My Badass Luna

son

in the air as I walked towards the locker room, the echo of my footsteps blending with the distant sounds of cheering and t

that was both comfort and armour. I tied my hair into a tight bun, every strand secured so there would be no distractions.

o men were locked in combat, their movements a dance of power and strategy. The crowd roared with every blow exchanged, the atmosphere electric wit

ed on my boxing gear, the familiar weight of the gloves grounding me. With a swift motion, I inserted

ssessing and judging. My opponent, a towering figur

looks like they're letting kids into the ring now. Maybe you shou

to undermine, but instead of offen

timating me was a mistake many had made before, and it was a mistake I was more than willing

e first," he declared with a smirk that oozed misplaced confidence. He clearly believed that this perceived advantage w

ee announced, his voice cutting

ugh my veins. I didn't waste a second. With a burst of controlled energy, I la

punch. My glove connected with his side, the impact sending a satisfying jolt through my arm. His bre

ld almost see the gears turning in his mind, the realization that he had underestimated me seeping in.

vement a testament to the hours of training I had dedicated to this very moment. David, now fully engaged, fought b

ling of feet against the canvas, the synchronized breaths of fighters deep in battle. We circled each other, two forces l

unch sailed over my head, leaving an opening that I exploited without hesitation. My glove

t that snapped his head back. The crowd roared in response, their cheers fueling my determination. David staggered, h

instant. The final sequence of the fight played out in a whirlwind of motion. A perfectly timed sidestep

rating through the arena. The referee's voice counted down, each number a confirmation of my

, who was slowly rising to his feet, his earlier arrogance now replaced by a begrudging respect. Our eyes met, and