Win by pin only
The heavy bass of hip-hop thrummed through the arena speakers, reverberating off the metal rafters above as spotlights swept across the packed crowd. They roared their approval and disdain in equal measure—some chanting his name, others throwing up middle fingers when they caught sight of that familiar red mop of hair bouncing beneath the glaring lights.
Heavy boots against steel grating announced Ivan's entrance as he strode toward the ring with practiced swagger. His dark blue trunks clung to lean muscle. The Filipino's face remained impassive, though his lips curled into something between a smirk and a sneer as he absorbed the crowd's energy.
Halfway down the aisle, he stopped to acknowledge the sea of faces. Raising both arms high, he let the adoration and hatred wash over him—fuel for whatever performance awaited inside that squared circle. "LAW! LAW!" they chanted, some spitting onto the concrete floor below while others waved signs bearing his name.
With a final nod to no one in particular, Ivan ducked between the top and bottom ropes, rolling into the ring with fluid grace.
