Leo grabbed the phone. “Who is this?”
Leo traced the signal. It bounced through six countries, then stopped. Local. Two blocks away. An abandoned textile mill.
The screen flickered to life. Not a movie—a live feed. A warehouse. A single ring lit by a swaying bulb. In one corner stood a hulking fighter known only as “The Ledger.” In the other, a terrified man in street clothes, hands taped raw.
The feed showed the street-clothed man take a brutal hook to the jaw. He crumpled. The crowd—unseen, jeering—roared.