Ethan stepped into his path.
"Come on."
Marcus stopped.
Ethan raised one finger.
"One minute."
Marcus looked at the finger.
Then at Ethan.
"One minute for what?"
"One minute on the mat."
Marcus sighed.
"I have work to finish."
Ethan smiled.
"That's what I thought."
Marcus walked away.
Behind him, the laughter followed.
But nobody noticed something strange.
Marcus's right hand had closed into a fist.
Only for a second.
Then it opened again.
The Challenge
By 7:15, the gym was full.
The morning class had begun.
Pads cracked.
Feet moved.
Coaches shouted.
Marcus worked along the edge of the room.
He had forgotten the incident.
Or at least, that's what everyone assumed.
Ethan hadn't forgotten.
He kept looking toward him.
Finally, during a break, Ethan called across the room.
"Marcus!"
The janitor stopped.
Ethan was standing in the center of the main mat.
Around him stood nearly twenty fighters.
"Come on."
Marcus sighed.
"What?"
"You said you trained."
Marcus nodded.
"Years ago."
"Then prove it."
Victor Kane, the owner, had just entered through the office door.
He stopped when he heard that.
"Ethan."
Ethan turned.
"Yeah?"
"What's going on?"
"Nothing."
Victor looked at Marcus.
Marcus gave a small shake of his head.
"It's fine."
Ethan smiled.
"See?"
Victor frowned.
"Training isn't a circus."
"I'm not making it one."
"You are if you're dragging staff onto the mat."
Ethan shrugged.
"Then he can say no."
Marcus looked around.
Every eye was on him.
He could have walked away.
That would have been easy.
But then he noticed a young fighter near the back.
A seventeen-year-old named Daniel.
Daniel had been coming to Apex for six months.
He was quiet.
Nervous.
Always apologizing.
Ethan had recently started using him as a demonstration partner.
Marcus had noticed something.
Daniel was afraid of getting hit.
Not physically.
Psychologically.
Every time Ethan stepped forward aggressively, Daniel closed his eyes.
Marcus had seen it several times.
And nobody had corrected it.
Marcus looked back at Ethan.
"Fine."
The room went silent.
Ethan smiled.
"Really?"
"One minute."
Ethan laughed.
"Good."
Marcus placed his mop against the wall.
He removed his work shirt.
Underneath was a plain gray T-shirt.
His shoulders were thicker than anyone expected.
A few fighters exchanged glances.
Ethan rolled his neck.
"You want gloves?"
"No."
Ethan laughed.
"Of course."
Marcus stepped onto the mat barefoot.
He stood in the center.
No stance.
No guard.
No bounce.
Just stillness.
Ethan circled him.
"You sure about this?"
Marcus said nothing.
"Last chance."
Marcus looked at him.
"Are you going to fight?"
Ethan smiled.
"Yes."
"Then stop talking."
A few people laughed.
Ethan's smile disappeared.
He stepped forward.
The first attack was fast.
A jab.
Marcus moved his head two inches.
The punch missed.
Ethan threw a cross.
Marcus shifted again.
Another miss.
The room became quieter.
Ethan threw a low kick.
Marcus lifted his leg and checked it.
The sound cracked across the gym.
Ethan stepped back.
Marcus hadn't even changed expression.
Ethan attacked again.
Three punches.
Low kick.
Hook.
Marcus avoided everything.
Not dramatically.
Not quickly.
Precisely.
It was as though he already knew where every strike would land.
Ethan became frustrated.
He charged.
Marcus moved.
One step.
That's all.
Ethan's momentum carried him past.
Marcus touched his shoulder.
"Balance."
Ethan turned.
"What?"
Marcus pointed to his feet.
"You're standing too tall."
Ethan's face reddened.
He attacked harder.
Marcus stepped aside.
Ethan stumbled.
Marcus caught his elbow.
For half a second, neither moved.
Then Marcus released him.
"You're angry."
Ethan stared.
The timer beeped.
One minute.
Nobody spoke.
Ethan looked at the clock.
Then at Marcus.
Marcus stepped off the mat.
"Where's my mop?"
Someone pointed.
Marcus picked it up.
He started cleaning again.
Behind him, Daniel whispered to another fighter:
"Who is that guy?"
Nobody knew.
The One-Finger Test
Ethan wasn't humiliated.
Not yet.
He told himself Marcus had simply gotten lucky.
Movement.
Timing.
Age-old tricks.
Nothing more.
But the image of those missed punches stayed in his mind.
Especially the final movement.
Marcus had known.
He had known exactly where Ethan was going.
By noon, Ethan had convinced himself that he needed to expose Marcus.
The afternoon class was smaller.
Only eight fighters remained.
Victor was in his office.
Marcus was cleaning the mirrors.
Ethan walked toward him.
"Hey."
Marcus continued wiping.
"What?"
"You got lucky this morning."
Marcus nodded.
"Okay."
"That's it?"
Marcus looked at him.
"What do you want me to say?"
Ethan smiled.
"I want another round."
"No."
"Why?"
"Because I have work."
"You afraid?"
Marcus sighed.
"You're repeating yourself."
Ethan stepped closer.
"One minute."
Marcus looked at him.
"Still?"
"Still."
Marcus put down the cloth.
"Fine."
This time Ethan brought gloves.
Marcus didn't.
They stood opposite each other.
Ethan attacked immediately.
Marcus blocked.
Ethan followed with a body shot.