A cocky black belt filmed himself mocking a sixty-three-year-old's gray hair, completely oblivious to the military elite combat tattoo on the old man's arm.

Tyler backed up two steps, his eyes wide with confusion and dread. "Victor? What are you doing here? I told Marcus I was handling this myself!"

Victor laughed—a short, ugly bark that carried no warmth. He ignored Tyler completely, his gaze locking directly onto Thomas Vance, who remained standing on his porch, silhouetted against the cabin's warm interior light.

"Handling it?" Victor said, stepping forward while his four men fanned out in a standard perimeter sweep, their hands resting deliberately near their jackets. "You humiliated the brand, Brooks. You cost me two hundred thousand dollars in pre-sold streaming buys for Atlantic City. The whole combat world is laughing at my headline fighter because some retired grandfather swept the floor with him."

Victor stopped fifteen feet from the porch stairs, pulling a thick cigar from his coat pocket and tapping it against his thumbnail.

"So I had my analysts look at the footage," Victor continued, his eyes drilling into Thomas. "They tell me this isn't just an old man. They tell me this is Sergeant Major Vance. A living legend in military combatives. A man whose name used to make certain defense contractors sweat blood."

Thomas didn't answer. His breathing was slow, even, regulated. His eyes tracked the four men moving through the shadows—two flanking the left perimeter near the woodpile, two holding the driveway flank to the right.

"What do you want, Vancevic?" Thomas asked, his voice cutting through the damp night air like a razor.

"I want my money back, old man," Victor said with a cold grin. "And you’re going to help me get it. We set up an unsanctioned rematch. Private venue, high-roller pay-per-view. Tyler gets a scripted win, or better yet, we put you against one of my real heavyweights from the overseas circuit. The 'Vance Combat System' against Russian combat sambo. We will clear two million dollars in a single night."

Thomas looked at Victor with profound, weary indifference.