The Retired Young Mercenary Is Secretly a Billionaire Chapter 117: The Fight club!!

Miles stood silently for a while, his eyes sweeping across the buzzing training ground, the car lot glinting under the morning sun, and the steel lines of the two-story facility. Every detail was exactly as he had envisioned—or perhaps sharper, stronger.

"Good morning, boss. You’re early."

The voice was firm yet respectful. June stepped forward in her tailored business attire, clipboard in hand, her posture straight. Behind her stood a line of n in immaculate suits, the senior hierarchy of the company—commanders, strategists, and specialists, each chosen carefully.

Miles turned toward her with a faint nod. "Good morning. I like this place—it turned out beyond my expectations."

June allowed herself a small smile. "I’m glad you liked it, sir. Let introduce you. This is the man who will be managing day-to-day operations—"

Miles raised a hand, finishing her sentence himself. "Major Charles. Who doesn’t know the celebrity ex-Army Major Charles."

A tall, broad-shouldered man stepped forward, his presence unmistakable. His handshake was strong, steady. "Hello, boss. Nice to finally et you."

Their hands locked. Charles’s eyes flicked down, and for the briefest second, his soldier’s instinct betrayed him—he noticed the grip, the hardened calluses, the faint scars that spoke of countless battles. These are not the hands of a normal young man.

Miles’s gaze sharpened slightly. "What’s wrong, Mr. Charles?"

Charles snapped out of the thought, straightening. "Nothing, boss. Just... honored. Thank you for this opportunity. Allow to introduce the team leaders."

He gestured to the suited n at his side—n whose eyes were sharp, whose posture carried discipline. "These are our group leaders. Each commands a specialized unit. They’re trained, tested, and ready to carry out any operation at your command."

Miles nodded, his voice low yet certain. "Nice to et you all."

The procession moved toward the operations building, polished floors reflecting their steps.

Inside the command room, screens glowed with feeds of city grids, tactical simulations, and live surveillance. The atmosphere shifted into sothing sharper—focused, analytical.

June adjusted her glasses, then reported crisply, "Boss, we already have our first client."

Miles raised a brow. "That fast?"

"Yes," June replied. "It’s Miss Wraithbourne."

Miles’s eyes narrowed in recognition. "Celina? Replacing her existing security?"

"It seems," June said carefully, "she trusts you more."

A faint silence stretched before Miles responded, his tone even. "Trust is worth more than contracts."

The plans were laid out across the table—protection details, resource allocation, coordination between Charles’s units. Orders were spoken, refined, then locked in.

For Miles, it was more than a new company. It was the birth of sothing larger. A quiet empire, built on shadows and steel.

When the eting concluded, Miles left June overseeing the paperwork and logistics. He stepped into his car, the gates parting once more as the morning sun climbed higher.

The city center was alive with the hum of traffic and morning chatter. Miles’s car slid into the stream with quiet ease, but his eyes were always moving.

That’s when he noticed it.

A sleek car parked near a café. By the door stood a man in a black suit and tinted glasses, scanning the street with the stillness of a sentinel.

Wasn’t he in the training grounds just monts ago?

Miles’s gaze narrowed, then shifted to the car itself. His lips curved faintly. So... our first client is already here.

He parked at the corner, stepped out, and approached with his usual asured pace.

The man straightened imdiately. "Hello, boss."

Miles’s eyes flicked over him. "Hello. What’s your na?"

"I’m Finn, Miss Wraithbourne’s security in-charge."

Miles tilted his head slightly. "Finn... Tell , is it fine if I et your client?"

Finn gave a small smile. "Of course. I’m no one to stop my boss."

Miles’s gaze hardened just a little. "You should be careful. What if I was an imposter?"

Without flinching, Finn gestured toward the comms in his ear."You’re not. The team at the base already confird your arrival."

Miles’s eyes flicked to the device. "Good work."

He brushed past, pushed open the café’s glass door, and stepped inside.

The aroma of roasted coffee beans t him, warm and inviting. At the corner table, Celina Wraithbourne sat with a half-eaten slice of toast, sunlight catching the edges of her hair.

"Mind if your old bodyguard has a coffee with you?" Miles said, his tone even.

Celina turned, the toast still between her teeth. Her eyes widened."M-Milesss!" she garbled, then bit, chewed, and swallowed quickly. "Miles! What’s up? Have a seat!"

Miles slid into the chair opposite her, expression steady but his eyes carrying the faintest edge of amusent. "What’s up? You already look tired. Trouble with business?"

Celina sighed dramatically. "Yeah... yesterday was hectic. I’ve got way too much on my plate."

"So the boss herself has to work this hard?" Miles asked, raising a brow.

"Yeah, yeah," Celina muttered, waving her hand. "I don’t have a young, talented girl running everything for like you do."

"You an June," Miles said, his lips curving faintly. "She is talented, indeed."

Celina leaned back, pouting. "Where did she even learn that? School and college didn’t teach anything useful like that."

Miles smirked slightly. "She has a good boss, I guess."

Celina rolled her eyes but smiled. "Really? Well... I agree."

The waiter arrived, setting down steaming cups of coffee. Celina leaned forward, curiosity sparkling in her eyes. "So? How’s the family? How’s Aunt, Uncle... and the cuties? I want to see them again."

Miles’s expression softened at the ntion. "They’re good. In fact, Mom is starting her own restaurant."

Celina nearly jumped in her seat. "Really?! Where?! I’m going to be a regular custor, I promise!"

"You’ll see soon," Miles replied calmly.

Celina pouted again, but the sparkle in her eyes betrayed her excitent.

"So," she asked, sipping her coffee, "where were you headed?"

"Just driving," Miles said. "Noticed Finn outside, so I ca here."

Celina grinned. "He’s a good bodyguard, right?"

Miles glanced toward the window, his tone flat. "Yes, he is."

Celina leaned closer, suddenly mischievous. "Hey... if you’re just driving, can I co with you? I’m bored."

Miles gave her a look. "What about your work?"

"No etings today," she said quickly, smiling like a child sneaking out of class. "It’ll be fine."

Miles exhaled. "But I’m headed sowhere... shady."

Celina’s grin widened. "That sounds adventurous."

"It’s an underground fight club," Miles admitted, his voice low.

Her eyes lit instantly. "That’s even better! Wait—fight club in the dayti?"

"They stream to virtual audiences overseas," Miles explained. "Big money on the bets."

Celina leaned forward, excitent dancing in her voice. "I knew it—sothing exciting! Co on, let’s go!"

Miles sighed, knowing resistance was pointless. "Fine. Let’s go."

Monts later, his car rolled away from the café, Celina sitting in the passenger seat, bright with anticipation.

Behind them, Finn followed closely in Celina’s car, his eyes locked on the road, the perfect shadow.

The underground fight club pulsed with raw energy the mont Miles, Celina, and Finn stepped inside.

Dim lights hung from the ceiling, flickering against the haze of smoke and dust. A squared ring stood at the center, its ropes stained from countless matches. The ground trembled with the roar of the audience—n and won pressed close, shouting, cheering, fists pumping in the air.

Despite the morning hour, the place was alive like midnight.

Rows of massive virtual screens stretched across the walls, broadcasting the fight to overseas viewers. Numbers flashed constantly—bet amounts rising and falling like a stock market fueled by blood. The digital counter ticked in red digits, climbing higher with every punch thrown inside the ring.

It was a different world here. One of adrenaline, violence, and money.

Miles led Celina and Finn through the crowd, Finn’s hand lightly touching his earpiece as he murmured orders into the comms, coordinating unseen eyes already planted around the facility.

At the ticket desk, Miles laid down paynt for a private cabin. With a subtle nod, the attendant guided them upstairs to a glass-fronted balcony overlooking the chaos.

The three stepped inside, the door sealing behind them, muting the deafening crowd into sothing bearable.

Down below, two fighters clashed in the ring.

"On the left!" the comntator’s voice bood over the speakers, sharp with excitent. "We’ve got **Rico ’The Jackal’ Martinez! Fast, brutal, a street-born brawler with six straight knockouts!"

The crowd erupted as the lean, tattooed fighter threw a wild hook, forcing his opponent back.

"And on the right," the comntator thundered, "you all know him—our undefeated champion! The mountain himself! Brutus Kane! The man who hasn’t lost a fight in three years!"

The ring shook as Brutus—a massive, muscle-bound figure—absorbed Rico’s punches with little more than a grunt. His counter ca swift and rciless, a hamring right fist that sent Rico stumbling into the ropes.

"Rico’s in trouble!" the comntator scread as the betting screens lit up, Brutus’s odds dominating the feed.

Celina leaned forward in her seat, her eyes glittering with excitent. "That’s so exciting, isn’t it?"

Miles glanced at her, his tone calm, almost amused. "I didn’t know you had an interest in these things."

Celina smiled, brushing her hair back. "Well... basically, it’s because of Dad. He likes these kinds of things—races, fight matches. Guess it’s in my blood."

Miles arched a brow. "So Uncle Victor has this side to him too?"

Celina chuckled. "Mostly because of business connections. You’d be surprised how many deals are made in places like this."

In the ring, Brutus slamd Rico down with a thunderous blow. The referee slid in, counting fast. The crowd scread in approval as the host raised Brutus’s arm.

"And once again! The all-ti champ of the club! The undefeated Brutus Kane!"

Brutus roared, his voice booming over the mic as he snatched it from the announcer. "Is there anyone out there who can defeat ?!"

The arena shook with noise. So laughed, so shouted, most cheered. No one dared step forward.

Up in the cabin, Miles’s lips curved into a small smile. He rose slowly from his seat, his presence enough to draw Finn’s wary glance and Celina’s widening eyes.

"It’s getting interesting now," Miles murmured.

Celina froze, alarm flashing in her eyes. "Wait—you’re not seriously—"

Miles’s smile lingered, his gaze locked on the roaring champion below. "Oh, I am."

The glass shimred with reflections of the ring, the crowd, and Miles himself—calm, composed, and deadly.

Celina leaned forward, her hand reaching as if to stop him. "Miles, wait—you are..."

...

Citadel City : Sowhere in the countryside.

The room was dim, blinds half-drawn, the hum of an old ceiling fan cutting the silence. Kyle sat at the edge of a leather chair, his hand drumming against the table until his phone vibrated.

He answered without hesitation."What is it?" His tone was already impatient.

On the other end, Luna’s voice carried a cold edge."Bad news, boss."

Kyle leaned back, exhaling through his nose."Oh, co on... already? What now?"

"There was a tip-off," Luna said evenly. "The Navy raided the Pacific base. The shipnts were almost out, but they were seized—including the carrier."

Kyle froze. His grip on the phone tightened, veins swelling across his knuckles."...What?" His voice dropped lower. "Don’t tell —it’s that serious."

Luna didn’t flinch. "There’s nothing that connects you to the base, boss. Not a trace of our production or operations. I made sure of it. Whatever was left—I burned it before stepping foot back on the mainland."

Her words were calm, but the implication was clear. She had erased everything.

"It’s just a little loss."

Kyle inhaled slowly, then exhaled in a hiss, his jaw clenched."A little loss is still a loss."

Silence hung heavy for a mont.

"Any update on who tipped us off?" Kyle asked, his voice sharp, dangerous.

"Nothing solid," Luna replied. "But my best guess... officials. The ones who used to get their bribes. After the Old Master died, the paynts stopped. So maybe..."

Kyle slamd a fist into the armrest, the leather creaking. His veins bulged, rage barely contained."I’ll take care of them first." His voice was like a growl. "Co to Citadel City. Now."

There was no hesitation in her reply."I’m on my way, boss."

The line went dead.

Kyle leaned forward in the silence, shadows cutting across his face. His eyes burned with resolve.