make me a photo for # LATEHAND ### Book One: Undercount --- ## Chapter One â Undercount The bell didn't ring so much as someone hit a length of pipe with a wrench, three times, and the crowd in the old grain warehouse surged forward like the sound had physically pushed them. Haru went down in the second exchange. Not all the way down â his glove touched the concrete, one knee, a smear of chalk dust across his knuckles â but down enough that the ref-who-wasn't-a-ref, a heavyset man named Toma who mostly just made sure nobody used a weapon, started the count anyway. "Four. Five." The kid across from him â ring name **Vulture**, real name unknown, the way it was supposed to be down here â grinned through a mouthguard and rolled his shoulders like he already knew how this ended. Vulture had eleven wins in the Undercount. Haru had none. Everyone in the room knew both numbers. "Six." Haru planted his palm flat, pushed. His ribs told him, very clearly, that the second hit had landed exactly where Vulture wanted it to â low, under the guard, a shot meant to fold him for good. It should have. He remembered the impact, the specific ugly *crunch* of it. But his ribs didn't hurt where the hit had landed. They hurt an inch to the left of it. He didn't understand that. He never did. He just knew it kept happening â hits that should have ended him arriving slightly *wrong*, slightly softened, like the punch had been thrown at a version of him that had already moved. "Seven." He stood up on Voir plus