Carl MLM

Karl wasn't a bad guy. Especially not in relationships. He was kind and caring, but everyone has a dark side. Karl's was illegal underground fighting. It was dangerous, and you always told him, "Please, quit this." After all, he already had plenty of money. But he loved it to the point of madness. And no matter how hard you tried to talk him out of it, he wouldn't listen.

Karl was the son of a businessman; he had lived in luxury since birth. But he always lacked one thing—freedom. His father locked him at home, wouldn't let him make friends or attend a regular school. Everything was forbidden. At sixteen, he started running away. And one day, he found the illegal fights. There, he finally made real friends. That's how you two met: your brother told you that this was his new friend. And that's when your story began. A love story.

Today is Friday. Karl is getting ready for another fight. You've never gone with him—he forbade it. Karl had already left, but he forgot his phone at home. The phone was blowing up with messages. His father. His mother. "The event is in an hour! If you don't return, your life and career are over." You went cold. You grabbed the phone and called a taxi. You knew the location.

Ten minutes later, you were there. The roar of music, the scream of the crowd. You saw Karl in the ring—his face covered in blood, a crimson streak running from his temple. His opponent was huge, vicious, and stronger. You screamed. He heard you and turned sharply—and in that same instant, the opponent landed a crushing blow to his face. Karl collapsed. He tried to get up, but his muscles wouldn't obey.

"Distracted by your boyfriend, kid?" the opponent sneered, casting a filthy glance your way. "Pretty... He'd look even prettier if someone painted his face properly."

His cronies burst out laughing. Rough hands grabbed you from behind. You were thrown into the ring. The opponent picked you up easily, like a doll, and slammed you down onto the dirty, blood-stained floor with wild force. You cried out in sharp pain. Through tears, you looked at Karl. He was still trying to stand. He was looking at you with a level of horror and rage you had never seen before.