"Winston was the greatest Dracoviam fight trainer in England and America. His services cost a fortune, and he has an impeccable record of a hundred victories, completely undefeated in his native country and this side of the world. When he retired, he became an examiner. Someone who determines the strength of potential wrestlers to fight against. He could examine them as individuals or in a battle royale. He's the toughest because the companies that hire him can never get into fights because the fighters run away. He's obviously a high-ranking swindler who takes advantage of his power and his reputation. He keeps the money, and the companies lose a lot of money. But I think in this case, Winston has met his rival. This kid will definitely be very profitable!" Venomous turned to see Lincoln, who was standing in the middle of the square, breathing heavily.
Professor Venomous took out a microphone and heard his voice from the loudspeakers that surrounded the arena. "You can go back upstairs now, Lincoln."
Lincoln walked toward the door, following the sound it made as it opened. He gets on the elevator again, and the doors open, and he finds himself face-to-face with Venomous.
"How did I do, Professor?" Lincoln asked confidently.
Venomous showed that saber-toothed grin again and reached out and squeezed Lincoln. "Congratulations Lincoln. You are the new representative of Venomous Industries."
Lincoln sighed, knowing his efforts were worth it and that it was even more worth it when he got paid for his first fight. "It is an honor to work for you, Professor."
"Likewise, boy. Come on, we'll treat those wounds, and then you'll eat."
Lincoln's stomach growled, indicating hunger. "I can eat something."
"Well said." Venomus accompanies Lincoln to the building's infirmary, where he treats him, and then takes him to the dining room, which has a large banqueting table. In this, he served chicken with potatoes, steak, salad, and fish. Lincoln helps himself to a portion of each and begins eating, clearing his plate, and helping himself to get some more.
"Sure. You eat too much, kid."
"Yeah, I always get really hungry after a fight," Lincoln responds, speaking with his mouth full.
"It's understandable; you burn a lot of energy when you fight, and this seems to have been the hardest. By the way, don't talk with your mouth full; it's disgusting."
Lincoln swallows food. "I'm sorry, boss."
"Never mind. By the way, here's your contract and a copy." Venomous hands him two sheets of paper, one written in Braille.
"Contract? Without officially being your fighter yet?"
"Yes, it is just a formality. Many fighters feel more comfortable if it is in writing."
Lincoln takes the paper and proceeds to read it. This stipulated that Lincoln's payment would be fifty thousand dollars per fight, plus ten percent of the proceeds from bets, and that the amount of his salary would increase the more fights he won and the more he became famous in the organization. Among other benefits for him and his family, including a job offer to Lisa. "So with this, my family has come back to life."
"Absolutely," Venomous says, giving him a kit of stamp ink. Lincoln wets his thumb and marks it on the contract. "That's enough. Now let me take you home. Tomorrow I'll tell you when you'll have your first fight."
"Thank you, boss."
Lincoln finished all the food and then headed with Venomous to the exit of the building, got into the limo, and left. On the way, Venomous gives Lincoln the latest details of the battles.
"Do I need a pseudonym?" Asked
"That's how it is. It's part of a fighter's personality, and that's how he becomes better known. Like those Mexican wrestlers."
"Ah, I see... Can I pick my name?"
"Actually, you already have one. You get it the moment you appear in the fighter's log." Venomous gives Lincoln a Braille card and reads it.
"I wanted to choose my own name. But it's not bad at all; I like it."
"Excellent, so it's decided."
-Finally, they reach Albert and Myrtle's house-
"Good. We're here. I hope to see you at work tomorrow. I'll send a car to pick you up."
"Thank you, Professor." Before he goes down, Venom stops him.
"Wait, I have to give you this." The professor gives him a very large envelope. Lincoln opens the envelope and discovers that they are tickets printed in Braille.
"Here's twenty thousand dollars." Lincoln couldn't believe how much he got.
"It's half of the first batch. You'll get the other if you win tomorrow's battle."
"Wow… This… Wow… I don't know what to say. Thank you, boss."
"Don't thank me. See you tomorrow."
"Oh, yeah, sure. Until tomorrow." Lincoln gets out of the limousine and enters the house. "Strange, it's silent."
"Mom? Dad? Girls? Is anyone here, Pop Pop, Grandma Myrtle? Where is everyone?" Suddenly, Lincoln felt someone embrace him from behind, and before responding with a blow, the mysterious person spoke.
"Hi, love," Lincoln almost confused her with Lynn when he heard her say it. But this person's scent was different and familiar.
"Luna?"
"You guessed it, sweetie. Take your prize." Luna kisses Lincoln on the lips.
Lincoln pulls away from the kiss. "Luna, where's everyone?"
"Oops, they went looking for you. You're late, and they're worried; I stayed here just in case you came back."
"Okay, I'm back. You should call Mom or Dad to tell them."
"Why the rush? Luna pushes Lincoln and makes him sit on the couch. "Let's take time alone." The rock girl lifts her skirt, then lowers it with her pants, then zips up Lincoln and starts rubbing herself with him.
"Wait, Luna. Anyone... can come and catch us."
"That's what makes it fun," Luna says, putting her brother's masculinity into her. "Hmm. Oh yeah, baby, give your mama some honey." Luna starts moving her hips up and down.