John was stopped by the bodyguard.
While waiting at the door, he took one last look below—the sofas designed to match the environment and space, and the high-end bar with hollowed-out pillars filled with exquisite glass bottles, were all filled with socialites raising their glasses.
The Bolago ring finals were a feast.
The boxers cared about money, honor, and the future.
The spectators cared about violence, bloodshed, and emotion.
The gamblers cared about odds, wins, and surprises.
And in the higher levels above the central ring, in this area of bright lights and feasting...
Someone was at ease.
They did not even need to step into the scene or linger in the air thick with stimulants and blood, yet they still played an important role in this competition.
John caught a whiff of perfume.
It turned out the powerful had their own kind of stimulant.
He rubbed his itchy nose and, under the guard's sharp watch, pushed open the door to meet his real employer.
