The middleweights stepped forward, a mix of curiosity and caution in their expressions.
Ronan stood beside the spin board like a proud game show host, one hand hovering dramatically over the start button.
"Alright, here we go," he said, eyes scanning the group. "This is for Match One, Fighter A. Let's spin it!"
The screen whirred, the names of all four middleweights flashing in a blur.
Damon kept his arms folded, leaning on one leg as if he was trying not to look too invested. Ivan, hands in his pockets, watched with a faint smirk.
The spin slowed. The beeps got louder and sharper until the name froze in big, bold letters.
THAMI ZULU
The South African grinned and stepped forward, bumping fists with a couple of teammates.
"Big Thami in the house," Ronan announced. "Now, let's see who's got the pleasure of fighting him." He slapped the button again. The screen lit up, the names scrambling once more.
Damon didn't say a word, but his eyes flicked toward José for a second.
