Shark hunting Spartacus

- Spartacus to the ring! – was heard the voice of the «announcer».

On the trampled field, surrounded by the public, stretching his muscles stood a man about two meters tall. He looked about thirty or thirty-five years old. He looked very big and powerful, with a fashionably trimmed beard. Crunching his bones, the fighter stared intently into the eyes of his approaching opponent. Everything about the man was that of a ruthless predator, lacking only a tiger's growl.

Spartacus, on the other hand, seemed noticeably smaller in build, though he had a muscular and also quite sturdy body. He shook his hands, balled his fingers into fists, and stood in front of them. They ducked slightly and prepared to fight.

The night ring, far away from the city on a vacant lot, was lit by the headlights of the cars surrounding the spectacle site. And with them a crowd of people, mostly men, who were betting.

It was already beginning to dawn, and it was time for the final round. The previous defeated fighters also joined the fans.