Even in Darkness She Chose to Rise (Tatiana and Jasper) novel Chapter 487

Chapter 487 Consider Yourself Lucky

The savage rules naturally whipped the crowd into a greater frenzy.

Finished!

When Number 77 stepped onto the stage, the chaotic arena fell into a momentary, dead silence, followed immediately by an explosion of derisive laughter.

“Where did this pretty boy come from? Is he here to commit suicide?”

“Kill him! Break his arms and legs! Snap him like a twig!”

“He’s got a hell of a face–looks like a movie star. What’s someone that good–looking doing throwing his life away here?”

The crowd buzzed with speculation. Thanks to Norman’s striking features, he drew an immense amount of attention, and the betting odds shifted drastically against him.

The lights in the underground arena were harsh and murky, and the air was thick with the stinging stench of sweat, blood, and cheap tobacco.

Norman stood in the center of the octagonal cage, his hands wrapped in black bandages. His eyes were as calm as a stagnant pool.

His opponent was a two–meter–tall giant with knotted muscles and a roaring black bear tattooed across his chest.

The moment the referee signaled the start, the giant lunged forward with a smirk, his massive fist whistling through the air–and then, Norman vanished.

In the next breath, he reappeared behind the giant like a ghost. His left hand, stiffened like a blade, struck the man’s nape with surgical precision.

The giant stumbled. Before he could process what had happened, Norman’s right knee slammed violently into his kidney.

The massive, two–hundred–kilogram frame crashed to the floor, making shudder.

The roar of the crowd froze instantly.

ry ground

Humiliated, the giant snarled and scrambled to his feet, his eyes gleaming with a murderous light as if he wanted to tear Norman limb from limb.

Norman, however, wasn’t even focused on the fight.

His mind was wandering, preoccupied with how to organize a wedding.

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Even though Flowie didn’t care for vanity, he couldn’t let her be shortchanged. Whatever other brides had, his woman would have too.

There was supposed to be a proposal before the wedding, right? A proposal required a diamond ring.

Something too small would be embarrassing, but the big ones weren’t che winning a few more fights would cover the cost.

vondered if

Because his mind was elsewhere, his strikes lacked intent; he simply moved with fluid grace, dodging the giant’s frantic attacks.

To the onlookers, he looked like he was terrified of the brute, making his first successful strike seem like a fluke.

The audience began to chant again: “Hit him! Kill him! Kill him!”

The giant grinned, revealing a row of yellowed teeth, and taunted him in broken, Russian- accented English:

“Little man, I’m going to break your legs. Then, I’m going to show your girlfriend right in front of you what a real man feels like.”

Norman’s eyes turned ice–cold. His movements stopped without warning.

The giant had no idea he had just stepped onto a landmine. He continued his verbal assault, even making a lewd gesture toward Tammy, who was sitting obediently in the stands.

He had seen them backstage–the woman and Number 77 were inseparable, clearly a couple. His favorite pastime was winning a fight and then claiming the loser’s woman.

He didn’t realize he was currently dancing on the edge of a grave.

The next second, Norman moved.

side and

He was a blur. The giant had barely thrown a punch when Norman slipped delivered a hand–chop to the man’s elbow–a sickening crack of dislocating one echoed through the cage.

The giant let out a pained roar and stumbled back, but Norman gave him no quarter. He closed the distance and drove his right knee into the man’s ribs.

Thump!

The giant’s massive weight slammed into the chain–link fence, making the entire

cage vibrate.

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The stands crupted in screams and curses, but Norman was deaf to it all. He walked forward step by step, his gaze as cold as a glacier.

The giant struggled to get up, still spitting profanities, but Norman ground his boot into the man’s wrist. He leaned down, his voice so low only the two of them could hear:

“You said you were going to touch my woman?”

The giant finally sensed the impending doom. His pupils dilated in terro

was too late.

Norman’s fists fell like sledgehammers–the first punch shattered his nose; the second collapsed his cheekbone; the third sent teeth and bloody froth spraying across the floor…

The referee rushed in to pull him away, but Norman shoved him aside and raised his fist again

“Boviine!”

Tammy’s voice from the stands made him pause.

He slowly looked up and saw her standing, excitedly giving him a huge thumbs–up.

Norman took a deep breath and slowly unclenched his fist. He stood up, shook the blood from his hands, and looked down at the mangled heap of a man at his feet. He dropped a single, cold

sentence:

“Consider yourself lucky.”

Then, without a backward glance, he walked out of the cage, leaving behind a stunned silence and a horrific smear of blood on the floor.

A moment later, the arena exploded in a deafening cheer. The number “77” was now burned into the memories of everyone present.

Norman collected his hundred–thousand–dollar prize, already planning his trip to the jeweler.

But as he stepped out from the backstage area, two men blocked his path

The aura radiating from them was sharp and disciplined–these were no ordinary thugs.

He stopped, alert and ready to strike, but the two men suddenly bowed deeply.

“Sir, we’ve finally found you!”

The leader was a man in his forties with a jagged scar across his face, yet his eyes were filled with absolute reverence. He kept his head lowered, his voice deep and restrained:

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Even in Darkness, She Chose to Rise