Viktor Vektor x Reader

Forty-Six

Your heart was in your throat as your eyes travelled over the crowd. People were going crazy, it felt like they were cheering for a once in a lifetime event.

Nervousness had never been a problem for you and that wouldn't change now. But still, you couldn't quite explain the feeling spreading through your chest.

Was it pride?

Probably, after all it was the essence that flowed through your veins and made you want to get back into the ring. You wanted to show the world that you were worth it, that you wouldn't just shut up and take it like a bitch.

Breaths stopped in your lungs as you raised your arms in the air and a flash of light blinded your eyes. Cheers turned into screams for your attention. There were cameras everywhere, the air seemed to be on fire.

You could feel a fire spreading across your skin. Excitement made your blood boil.

Was this what it felt like to be a champion?

Possibly.

But this was just an illegal underground fight.

What would it be like if you were to ascend?

Cameras on you, people chanting your name, wanting you to win. The thought was like a dream. And all that stood in the way of that dream was your last opponent in this league.

Soon the underground would know your name and the whispers would rise up and pull you into the light of the champions.

To where Viktor had once been.

"Vik...", it came to you in a whisper.

A smile softened your face and suddenly it felt all the better to be in the ring. It felt like you had taken up a legacy that Viktor had left behind for you.

You wouldn't let him down. Not him and not yourself either.

Tilting your head to the side, your eyes glanced over your shoulder to get an idea of your opponent.

Tall as a tree and just as broad, he had thrown his arms in the air just like you and was being celebrated by the crowd. A broad grin showed his gleaming white teeth.

The first thing you noticed was that his ears were normal. Every good boxer came to a point in their career where they suffered from cauliflower ears. That was a testament to how many punches they had taken.

Either he was a complete beginner or he had never taken a punch. The latter was rather counterproductive for you. Preferred thing would have been to fight a beginner.

But at that point, your new luck had run out again.

Gritting your teeth, you dropped your arms and approached him to offer a punch, as was proper in sport.

He eyed you appraisingly for a moment before striking. He was so rough that your hand dropped and a sharp pain ate through your shoulder.

You frowned in displeasure but didn't say anything. He would soon realise how unflattering it was to get on your nerves.

He was far fatter than you, similar thank Dexter, and wouldn't be able to move as quickly. That gave you a certain advantage. Especially since Vik had taught you that speed and stamina were a deadly combo.

"All right peopleeeee!" the referee's voice cut through the cheering. "Welcome to the last match of the season, all or nothing, here and now!"

The shouts grew louder again. Your soul seemed to vibrate, the ground shook under your feet.

Heat burned on your forehead as the referee turned to you for a private word. With a serious expression on your face, you leaned closer.

The crowd stifled all voice and melted into one huge mass. It smelled of sweat and honour. All or nothing.

"All right, I want to see a fair fight.", he looked you in the eye first, waiting for an answer. "All rule violations give penalty points. Unless you put on a hell of a show. In that case, fighting to the death is allowed."

Your opponent's gaze fell on you. A spiteful grin flashed at you.

"I don't want to be unfair.", he growled with confidence as if he had already won. "I'll let you live. But I'll take your legs and all the chrome on your body in return. Is it true that you were cut in half?"

A shiver made your spine cramp.

"I don't have time for half measures.", you spat at his feet. "I'll hang your bones on the wall. How much are your implants worth? I'll bet double that on my victory."

He bared his teeth in annoyance. A growl stuck in his throat.

"I'll show you!"

"Why don't you try? I've come back from the dead, someone like you won't stop me!"

You raised your arms defiantly and took a step back so that everyone could see that you weren't afraid. Quite the opposite. Perhaps you had never felt so sure of anything as you did at that moment. If this was the last fight, then you would disappear with a bang.

The referee exchanged a glance with you one last time. You nodded confidently and transferred the last few eddies you had to him. His eyes wandered over to your opponent.

"The stakes are 10 thousand!", he announced.

For a moment he seemed to consider. Then he nodded. Eyes glowing red. That settled the matter. He had accepted the bet.

You grinned with satisfaction. Anyone who bet on the same result would owe you a share of the fees. And everyone who bet against you lost everything.

All the more for you.

With a number like that, you could only guess at the amount. Nevertheless. It would be a start to paying off your debt to Viktor.

Ready to fight, you returned to your corner and tightened the bandages around your hands. Even though your knuckles were now made of cyberware, you still had the instinct to protect them.

White bandages clung to your skin. Your gaze darkened. You would only leave this ring when the white was soaked in blood.

"Let's gooooo, friends of boxing!",, the referee's enthusiasm spread to the spectators. "It's time. Let's get into the fight. Begiiiinnn!"