Chapter 145: Chapter 145 Taunting
Two birds with one stone.
That was why, three months ago, after receiving his wife’s diagnosis, Drake began preparing himself once more. He abandoned the bottle, returned to training, and pushed his body to its limits. Every drop of sweat, every bruise, and every painful workout was fueled by a single thought.
He wasn’t fighting for glory anymore.
He was fighting for the woman who had never given up on him.
Since he could no longer trust the friends who had once deceived and abandoned him, he had no choice but to shoulder everything himself. Fortunately, he wasn’t alone. His young daughter, who had witnessed both his rise to championship glory and his devastating fall into the mud, refused to stand by and watch.
Determined to support her father, she became his assistant in the arena, helping him however she could. Her presence made a world of difference. Every time he saw her working tirelessly by his side, he felt a renewed sense of purpose and motivation.
Now, after securing his first victory since starting over, that determination burned brighter than ever. Excitement surged through his veins, causing his entire body to tremble. It wasn’t just because he had won a fight; it was because, for the first time in a long while, he felt that he was finally moving forward again.
"Well, well, well... look who we have here. Isn’t this the washed-up champion from two years ago? The same guy who couldn’t even defend his title and got dethroned a year later?"
A mocking voice suddenly rang out from behind him.
Drake didn’t need to turn around to know who it was, but he did anyway. Standing there was the current reigning champion, the very man who had beaten him to a bloody pulp last year and taken everything from him. Now, he was back once more to defend his championship belt.
Drake merely glanced at him before turning away, showing no interest in entertaining the man’s taunts.
Unfortunately, being ignored seemed to irritate the champion even more.
In a flash, the man grabbed Drake by the front of his tank top and slammed him against a nearby locker. The metal rattled violently upon impact, and a sharp jolt of pain shot through Drake’s back, forcing a grunt from his lips.
"Ugh..."
The champion loomed over him, his muscular frame radiating intimidation. Standing at roughly five-foot-eleven, he was about the same height as Drake, but his bulky build made him appear even more imposing.
Drake clenched his jaw and met the man’s gaze without backing down.
"What do you want?" he asked coldly, his eyes blazing with hostility.
A slow, sinister grin spread across the champion’s face.
"I want to pound you into the ground just like I did last year," he said, his voice dripping with arrogance. "I hope you haven’t forgotten how that felt."
He let out a disdainful snort before turning to leave. However, his gaze suddenly shifted to the young girl standing nearby. She was clutching Drake’s water bottle and had been about to approach him, but the moment the champion’s eyes landed on her, she froze in place.
The champion smirked.
"Oh? You even brought a little assistant with you." His eyes narrowed mockingly. "I hope she won’t cry later when I wipe the floor with you."
With those final degrading words, he burst into laughter. His entourage quickly joined in, their mocking voices echoing throughout the lounge as they followed him toward his private room.
It was obvious why he had come.
He wasn’t here for any legitimate reason. He had come to taunt Drake, to humiliate him, and to reopen the wounds of his defeat from a year ago. He wanted to chip away at Drake’s confidence before they ever stepped into the arena.
After all, he had used the exact same tactic last year.
Back then, he had relentlessly mocked and provoked Drake before the match, feeding him insult after insult until Drake’s temper got the better of him. By the time he entered the arena, he was already agitated and emotionally compromised. The champion had capitalized on every mistake that frustration created and ultimately claimed an overwhelming victory.
Now, it seemed he was trying to repeat history.
The champion had never been ashamed of playing dirty. On the contrary, he reveled in it.
This was an underground arena where money, reputation, and survival were on the line. Nobody cared how a victory was earned as long as it was earned. There were no referees handing out penalties, no officials reviewing grievances, and certainly no one willing to hear Drake’s complaints.
The underground world had its own rules.
Weakness was exploited. Kindness was mocked. Honor was treated as a liability rather than a virtue.
If Drake couldn’t accept that, then he would simply become another stepping stone for those who could. In this place, there were only two choices: dominate or be dominated, break others or be broken yourself.
"Dad... are you okay?"
Drake’s daughter asked cautiously as she stepped closer to him. She had heard every word the champion had said. Even at her young age, she could tell how humiliating and hurtful those taunts were. Her heart ached for her father, but she swallowed her own worries and forced herself to stay strong.
Drake looked at her and managed a reassuring smile.
"I’m okay, baby. Don’t worry about me." He gently patted her head before taking a deep breath. "Dad’s going to do his best to win. For your mom... and for us."
As he spoke, he quietly sorted through the turmoil in his heart. He had already learned this lesson the hard way. Last year, he had allowed anger and frustration to cloud his judgment, and it had cost him everything. He refused to make the same mistake again.
Instead of shaking his confidence, the champion’s taunts had only strengthened his resolve.
A fierce determination burned within his chest as he clenched his fists.
"Come on," he said, straightening his posture. "The fight starts in a few minutes."
"Okay, Dad."
His daughter nodded obediently before handing him his water bottle.
"Drink some water first. You need to stay hydrated." Her expression turned serious as she tried her best to act like a proper assistant. "I’ll go get another bottle ready for when you enter the arena."
Drake couldn’t help but smile at her earnestness. Taking the bottle from her, he felt some of the weight on his shoulders lighten. No matter how difficult things became, he wasn’t fighting alone anymore.
Drake took the water bottle from his daughter and poured some of its contents over his face and hair, the cool sensation helping to clear his mind and drive away the lingering frustration from earlier. He then took a mouthful, swished it around to freshen himself up, and swallowed the rest in a few long gulps.
Once he was finished, he handed the bottle back to his daughter. The little girl immediately passed him a towel, which he used to wipe the moisture from his face, neck, and arms.
After making sure he was comfortable, she quietly stepped aside and let him close his eyes for a brief power nap while they waited for his match to begin. She knew how important it was for him to conserve both his strength and his focus before stepping into the arena.
