CHAPTER 2 — THE MAN THEY CALLED THE GHOST
That night, nobody slept.
Some prisoners prayed.
Others quietly wrote goodbye letters they knew would never be delivered.
At midnight, Ethan heard metal scraping beneath his bed.
He lifted the frame.
Hidden underneath was a tiny folded piece of paper.
It contained only four words.
DON'T WIN TOO FAST.
Confused, Ethan looked around.
Every prisoner pretended to be asleep.
Who had written it?
Why?
The next morning, guards stormed into his cell.
Without explanation, they shackled Ethan and marched him toward the arena.
Thousands of wealthy spectators sat behind bulletproof glass above the underground pit.
Champagne glasses sparkled.
People laughed.
Some were placing enormous bets.
To them...
The prisoners weren't human.
They were gambling chips.
A digital screen lit up.
TODAY'S FEATURE FIGHT
ETHAN KANE
VS.
THE GHOST
The arena suddenly fell silent.
Even the guards stepped backward.
One whispered nervously.
"No one's beaten him."
The lights went dark.
Then...
A single spotlight illuminated a tall, lean prisoner walking barefoot across the sand.
No scars.
No tattoos.
No emotion.
Just pale eyes that looked completely empty.
He had fought fifty-eight matches.
Official deaths:
Fifty-eight.
The announcer smiled.
"Place your final bets."
The bell rang.
The Ghost disappeared.
One second...
Two seconds...
Ethan couldn't even see him.
Then—
A fist slammed into Ethan's ribs with terrifying force.
He stumbled backward.
Another strike came from nowhere.
Then another.
The crowd roared.
Blood dripped onto the sand.
The Ghost finally spoke for the first time.
His voice was calm.
Almost gentle.
"You shouldn't have come here."
Ethan wiped the blood from his mouth.
"I didn't choose this."
The Ghost stared at him for several seconds.
Then something impossible happened.
Instead of delivering the killing blow...
He leaned closer and whispered so quietly that only Ethan could hear.
"If you want to escape this prison... don't trust the guards."
He paused.
Then added words that froze Ethan's blood.
May you like
"The prison warden is your father."
To be continued…
