"Coach."
"I said no."
Eli quietly removed his hoodie.
Underneath was a plain black training shirt.
He wrapped his hands.
Not like a beginner.
Not like someone improvising.
Like someone who had done it thousands of times.
Raymond noticed.
His breathing stopped.
He had seen those hand wraps before.
Daniel Carter had used the same method.
Marcus stepped onto the mat.
"First round. Me."
Eli nodded.
"Okay."
Marcus raised his guard.
The crowd moved closer.
Eli stood still.
No bouncing.
No intimidation.
No dramatic pose.
Just stillness.
Marcus advanced.
Fast.
A jab.
Eli moved his head one inch.
Marcus followed with a low kick.
Eli stepped away.
Another strike.
Another miss.
Marcus frowned.
He increased the speed.
Eli kept moving.
Never attacking.
Never panicking.
Just watching.
After thirty seconds, Marcus stopped.
"Fight me."
Eli answered:
"I am."
The crowd murmured.
Marcus charged.
This time, Eli moved forward.
His shoulder slipped under Marcus's arm.
A small turn.
A controlled sweep.
Marcus hit the mat.
Silence.
Eli stepped away.
Marcus looked stunned.
Eli extended a hand.
Marcus ignored it.
He stood.
Derek laughed nervously.
"Beginner's luck."
Eli looked at him.
"Maybe."
Noah stepped forward.
"My turn."
Raymond closed his eyes.
He knew.
The real fight hadn't even begun.
Noah was different.
He didn't rush.