When a Hitman Gets Haunted by a Ghost
Chapter 72: One Hell of a First Impression

Chapter 72: One Hell of a First Impression

The boxing ring smelled faintly of sweat and old leather, familiar. Kant glanced at the side where the ropes were looser. Perhaps he could kick the new guy into it and let him fall off the ring. Knock his pride down a few pegs, end it fast.

"You don’t look like much," the guy said, rolling his shoulders as he stepped into the center of the ring. "Shouldn’t take long."

Kant’s eyes sharpened. What was this big mouth’s deal? What could he gain from coming into a base of fighters to talk shit? Was he trying to get beaten up?

Silas made a quick introduction, "Hunter, Kant. Kant, Hunter. Are you guys ready?"

Kant gave a curt nod and Hunter smirked.

Minutes later, the ring had turned into a play of a fed cat toying with a rabid mouse.

Hunter lunged, but Kant read the movement too easily. A sidestep, a feint, a light shove to the back. The crowd reacted with another round of laughter as Hunter stumbled forward, barely catching himself.

"You—" Hunter whirled around, seething.

Kant exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. "No technique. No plan. Watch and think before you move." He clenched his fist and moved in for an uppercut.

Hunter absorbed the strike with his arm. Not bad for a rookie. One good thing about this guy was he didn’t get spooked by punches.

At some point, he managed to get behind Kant, trapping him in a headlock.

"Gotcha," Hunter huffed in a triumph. "That’s all you got?"

Kant dropped his weight, bending his knees to disrupt Hunter’s balance. The choke loosened enough for Kant to twist and shoot his elbow back into Hunter’s ribs—once, twice—forcing a grunt out of him.

"Not close." Kant grabbed Hunter’s wrist and yanked him forward, using the momentum to send him tumbling over his shoulder onto the mat with a heavy thud.

A question from the crowd reached them. "Think he’ll get up?"

"That was nothing. Kant’s going easy on him."

Hearing that, Hunter bristled and sprang up as if he’d just gotten a blood transfusion from the world’s angriest person.

Kant glanced at Silas. Clearly, the new guy had proved he had more than enough confidence and grit, so the fight should wrap up anytime now. But the leader gave him a nod to continue.

Damn it. What a hassle. After being out all day, Kant just wanted to get this over with so he could go eat dinner.

Hunter swung a hook at Kant’s jaw, but it was smoothly blocked and countered with a bonk on his head, like a game of whack-a-mole.

Laughter rippled through the crowd, fueling the heat rising in Hunter’s face. He wiped at the sweat on his forehead, eyes darting around at the amused expressions. The embarrassment stung.

"All that big talk just to get tapped on the head?" someone teased.

Kant moved in to drop him onto the mat the second time, planning to go a little harder this time to finish it.

A loud whistle cut through. "Hey, rookie," Jones called out, "his lower half’s open!"

Hunter’s eyes flickered to Jones for a split second, before moving back to Kant as he drove a sharp kick into his shin.

Pain exploded through Kant’s leg, and he staggered back, his balance faltering.

The crowd erupted into laughter and shouts of surprise.

"Strike!"

"Oh, he’s quick with it!"

"Get him back, Kant!"

Kant shot Jones a murderous glare. "Son of a bitch."

Jones threw his hands up innocently, a grin playing at his lips as if to say ’Don’t blame me for your weaknesses.’

Hunter sneered, moving in. "Was one kick enough to take you down?" he taunted, cracking his knuckles. "Whoever trained you did a shitty job."

The muscles in Kant’s face flattened. He slowly looked up, forgetting about the pain. "What did you say?"

"I said your coach must be half-assing his job," Hunter spat, his eyes sparking with excitement to have gotten under the calm guy’s skin.

Kant straightened, getting back in position. He flexed his fingers and gave Hunter a cold, calculating look. Now it was really on.

At first, it was just to shut the guy up. Then, it was about teaching him a lesson. Then, it was something else entirely.

Blood splattered, a bone or two cracked. Towards the end, the crowd grew apprehensive. Even Hunter stopped talking, focusing solely on staying on his feet. But when he finally hit the ground and didn’t get up, the room was dead silent.

Someone cleared their throat. "Well, that’s over."

"Guess we’re not getting any new bears anytime soon."

"Don’t think he’ll stay?"

"Stay? The only place he’ll stay at is the hospital."

"Who knows, he might return after he heals up. Guy’s got some guts on him."

"Nah. Not after this."

The crowd began to dissipate, the members walking away a little dazed after seeing one of their calm and controlled members mop the ring with the new guy.

"Cole would’ve whooped his ass for beating a newbie like that," one of the last voices commented.

"Yeah, well, he’s not here anymore."

Kant stayed still in the ring, his breath slowing but his mind racing. He hadn’t meant to take it this far, not really. His fists still ached, and his muscles trembled with exertion.

With the vicinity of the boxing ring abandoned by the spectators, only two remained nearby.

Jones watched Silas’ unperturbed expression with close curiosity. Meanwhile, the leader studied Hunter’s unconscious face thoughtfully, before looking up at Kant.

"I’ll call Alice, ask if there’s a free bed at the clinic," Silas started calmly. "You’ll take him there. Tell him he’s in once he wakes up."

"If he’ll still want to join after being put in his place like that," Jones commented, eyes bright with amusement.

Silas glanced at Jones with a faint smile, visibly on the same page. He turned to make the phone call but paused to add, "Kant, next time, don’t forget what this fight is for. You may be the same size, but your skillsets are not on the same level. A bear doesn’t rip apart someone for his pride."

Kant was left standing there dumbly as Silas’ steps retreated. He opened his mouth, but it was too late to say anything, so he shut it and stared straight. It felt as good as watching himself from the side, like some stranger.

Shit, why had he gone all out like that? Relentless, on a guy who was weaker too. He shook his head to clear his mind somewhat.

"Don’t beat yourself up for it. Pun intended." Jones chuckled and lifted the ropes to make it easier for Kant to drag Hunter out of the ring. "This guy’s got high potential but an insubordinate attitude. Silas let you crush him on purpose. To tame him."