Chapter 147: Chapter 147 Threatened
Drake immediately retreated a step, raising his guard as he cautiously circled his opponent. Under normal circumstances, he would have looked for an opportunity to seize the initiative, but his thoughts were scattered. His attention kept drifting back to his daughter, making it impossible for him to fully focus on the match.
Because of that, he couldn’t afford to be overly aggressive. One careless mistake while distracted could cost him the fight.
But the reigning champion seized the opportunity and immediately unleashed a spinning kick. Fortunately, Drake had already taken a step back the moment he saw it coming; otherwise, the kick would have landed squarely on his face. Even so, the attack still grazed his arm.
Under normal circumstances, that brief opening would have been more than enough for Drake to catch the champion’s leg, twist it off balance, and transition into a grapple where he excelled. However, his distraction cost him the timing. By the time he reacted, the opportunity had already slipped away.
The champion wasted no time capitalizing on Drake’s mistake. As soon as he landed from the spinning kick, he launched into a relentless barrage of Muay Thai techniques, with vicious knees, razor-sharp elbows, and a series of unpredictable kicks thrown from every angle. Forced onto the defensive, Drake could do nothing but evade the onslaught, retreating and weaving as the champion pressed forward without mercy.
"Drake, you coward! What are you doing, running all over the arena? Have some balls and fight properly!"
The crowd’s patience was quickly wearing thin. From their perspective, Drake had done nothing but retreat and evade ever since the champion launched his relentless assault. He wasn’t counterattacking, nor was he attempting to turn the tide. Instead, he kept his arms raised in a tight guard, protecting himself while weaving away from every strike.
To the spectators, it looked like a completely one-sided fight.
There was no clash of power, no dramatic exchange of blows, no thrilling display of courage that they had paid to see. Watching one man attack while the other continuously dodged was frustratingly dull. They wanted blood, excitement, and spectacle. More than anything, they wanted Drake to stop running and fight back like a cornered lion, even if it meant going down swinging.
Noticing how distracted Drake was, the reigning champion immediately seized the opportunity. He shot forward, wrapped his arms around Drake’s waist, and drove him to the ground with a powerful tackle.
Before Drake could recover, the champion mounted his chest and began raining punches down on him. One fist after another crashed into Drake’s face, each strike heavier than the last. The crowd erupted as the champion completely took control of the fight.
A cruel sneer spread across his face as he grabbed Drake by the collar and pulled him closer.
"What? You’ve been waiting for that little girl to come back?" he mocked between punches. "You care about her that much?"
Another punch slammed into Drake’s cheek.
"What is she, huh?" The champion chuckled darkly. "Your daughter?"
His taunting words cut through the roar of the arena, aimed not only at Drake’s ears but at his heart.
As if suddenly jolted awake from a daze, Drake’s eyes snapped wide open. The confusion and distraction that had clouded them moments ago vanished, replaced by a terrifying glare fixed squarely on the champion.
In an instant, he seized both of the champion’s arms with a grip so fierce that the man’s expression twisted in shock.
"What did you do?!" Drake roared.
Before the champion could react, Drake drove his knee upward with explosive force. The strike slammed directly into the champion’s back, sending a sickening jolt through his body. Pain radiated through his spine and bones, forcing the air from his lungs.
"Ugh!"
The champion grimaced and clenched his teeth, his face contorting with fury as he struggled against Drake’s iron grip.
"You fucking bastard..." he hissed, his voice dripping with malice. "You’re dead."
A vicious grin crept onto his face despite the pain.
"And when I’m done with you, I’ll make sure that little girl suffers too."
"You!"
Drake’s eyes turned bloodshot, rage flooding through him so violently that the world seemed to be painted in shades of red. For a brief moment, all he could hear was the pounding of his own heartbeat.
Then everything clicked into place.
He finally understood why his daughter had yet to return.
The champion’s taunts had always been meant to provoke him into making mistakes during the fight. When words failed, the man had resorted to something far more despicable. He had taken the little girl and turned her into a bargaining chip, a hostage to distract Drake, threaten him, and force him into submission.
A wave of realization crashed into him.
The champion wasn’t confident he could defeat Drake in a fair fight.
Not that fairness mattered in a place like this.
This was an underground arena where dirty tricks, intimidation, and brutality were as common as breathing. There were no rules, no honor, and certainly no justice. The champion had simply chosen the method that gave him the greatest advantage.
And now, he held all the cards.
The man wasn’t even trying to hide it anymore. He was openly threatening Drake and his daughter in front of everyone.
The thought sent a chill through Drake’s entire body.
The fury burning inside him remained, but beneath it lurked something far worse.
Fear.
For the first time since stepping into the arena, genuine fear tightened around his heart like an icy hand. Not fear for himself, but for the little girl who might even now be at the mercy of monsters like the man standing before him.
He had forgotten.
Somewhere along the way, he had forgotten that men like these did not have the same bottom line he did. They had no principles, no honor, and no limits they refused to cross. To them, victory was all that mattered, and as long as they emerged as the winner, every method was justified.
The reigning champion was no different.
To retain his title and status, the man would resort to anything under the sun, threats, manipulation, hostage-taking, and worse. There was no tactic too despicable if it secured his victory.
Drake hated it.
He hated the helplessness gnawing at him, hated the fact that he couldn’t simply ignore the threat hanging over his daughter’s head. For all his strength, there was nothing he could do if the champion truly had people watching her.
The realization crushed him.
The strength that had fueled his body moments ago seemed to drain away all at once. His grip loosened, his fingers no longer able to hold the champion’s arms with the same iron determination.
The champion immediately sensed the change.
A vicious grin spread across his face as he tore free from Drake’s weakening hold and resumed his assault without hesitation. Fists, elbows, and knees rained down relentlessly, each strike carrying a cruel intent.
He wasn’t merely trying to win anymore.
He wanted to make the match as bloody and humiliating as possible, to break Drake’s body in front of the roaring crowd while crushing his spirit at the same time.
