The Blade and the City
I. The ring smelled of sweat and cheap whiskey and the particular brand of desperation that only exists in places where men come to get paid for getting hurt. Jack Kowalski wiped blood from his left eye with the back of a taped hand and watched the crowd surge forward, their mouths open, their voices a single beast. The bell rang. The round ended. Jack went to his corner and Pop Maloney pressed...
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