Reward

Chapter 66 - Reward

The receptionist looked up from her clipboard when Mike mentioned Clark's name. She froze for a moment, her eyes widening as the pen stopped in her hand. Around them, the gym continued as usual. Gloves struck heavy bags, shoes scraped across the mats, and coaches spoke beside the ring, unaware of the tension at the desk.

“Clark hasn't been here since his last loss against you,” she said. Her voice was polite, but the surprise on her face was obvious.

Mike stared at her. He had never met her before, yet she already knew who he was.

“How do you know me?”

She gave a small shrug. “People here know who you are.”

Mike glanced toward the ring. The coaches and corner men he had recognized earlier were still gathered beside the ropes. He had come here because he believed Clark was connected to what had happened to Claire, but now he wasn't even sure Clark still came here.

He turned back to the receptionist. “Listen, young girl—”

“Anna,” she interrupted, lifting her chin.

Mike paused, then nodded. “Yes, Anna. I'm here to see Clark and It's about his sister, Claire.”

Something changed in her expression. She studied him for several seconds before slowly placing the clipboard on the counter.

“You really don't know?” she asked.

Mike frowned. “Know what?”

Anna glanced toward the ring before lowering her voice. “Maybe nobody told you what happened after the fight.”

“What happened?”

“Well," She sighed."Clark was badly injured after the Amateur Cup. The doctors said he suffered a severe brain injury and was taken to the hospital immediately, his family was told they would have to wait and see how he responded.”

“When was this?”

“After the Amateur Cup.”

“I know that. How long has he been in the hospital?”

Anna hesitated. “Since the fight night, he was still there.”

Mike stared at her.

“He never recovered enough to come back here,” she continued. “He hasn't been able to box since that night, and still hasn't regained consciousness.”

Mike's fingers went still against the counter.

“What are you saying?”

“Clark is in vegetative state. The doctors don't know if he'll wake up and his family has been hoping for improvement, but there hasn't been much.”

For several seconds, Mike couldn't respond. The sounds of the gym seemed to fade into the background.

His mind returned to the Amateur Cup.

Clark coming at him in the final round.

The opening.

The punch.

The impact of his glove against Clark's jaw.

At the time, Mike had felt nothing but relief. He had won, and the referee had raised his hand while the crowd cheered.

Then the system message had appeared.

Mike's eyes narrowed as the memory surfaced. The reward window had flashed before him after the fight.

Claire's Breakdown.

He had accepted it without thinking. Back then, he had assumed the system meant Claire would finally understand what she had lost. After everything she and Sam had done, he had wanted her to regret humiliating him.

Now those words seemed different.

Mike remembered Claire after the fight. Her nervous behavior and the way she constantly looked over her shoulder. Her relationship with Sam falling apart. Sam's anger and drinking. Danny's sudden return.

Then he remembered Claire standing before him that morning, bruises covering her face.

His stomach tightened. The pieces that had once seemed unrelated were beginning to form a single chain.

It had started with the Amateur Cup.

His victory over Clark had triggered something he still didn't understand, and whatever followed had spread through Claire, Sam, and Danny.

Mike had wanted Claire to suffer emotionally for what she had done to him. He had never imagined that his victory would leave another man in a hospital for life.

He pulled his hand away from the counter. “Where is he?”

“He's still at the hospital.”

“I need the address.”

Anna studied him for a moment before reaching beneath the desk for a small notepad. She wrote down the hospital's name and address, tore off the page, and handed it to him.

Mike read it once, then again, committing the details to memory before folding the paper into his pocket.

“Is he still in the same hospital?”

“As far as I know.”

Mike nodded and turned toward the entrance.

“Mike.” He stopped.

Anna kept her voice low. “Whatever happened between you and Clark, he didn't deserve this.”

Mike looked at her without answering. His eyes dropped for a moment before he finally said, “I know.”

He opened the door and stepped outside.

The sun had climbed higher, and the cool morning air was already fading. Mike stood beside the entrance with one hand inside his pocket, his fingers resting against the folded address.

He could tell himself the fight had been legal. Clark had chosen to enter the ring, Claire, Sam, and everyone else had made their own decisions afterward.

But none of those excuses changed what he remembered, Clark's face when the punch landed.

Mike pulled the paper from his pocket and unfolded it.

He had spent months believing he was the one paying for Claire and Sam's betrayal. He had been humiliated, betrayed, and laughed at, and he had believed his anger was justified.

Now he was standing outside a gym with the address of the man whose life had been shattered by his victory.

He had thrown the punch.

He had won the fight.

And whatever the system had meant by that reward, its consequences had reached far beyond anything he had imagined.

Mike folded the paper and put it back into his pocket. Then he started toward the nearest bus stop.

As he walked, one question kept returning to his mind. What was he going to find at the hospital?

He didn't know if Clark would ever wake up. He didn't know what Clark's family knew, or why the system had connected Claire's breakdown to a fight that had nearly destroyed Clark's life.

But he knew he needed answers.

When he reached the bus stop, Mike stood beneath the shelter and watched the traffic pass. His fingers remained wrapped around the folded address in his pocket.

A bus appeared at the far end of the road. Mike stepped toward the curb and waited.

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