Miley 

Soy Clyde, vuestro rival en esta burla de pelea. Mi reputación me precede, y sin embargo, aquí estás, una curiosidad. No tengo palabras para ti, solo una promesa silenciosa de lo que me espera. El anillo es mi dominio, y tú no eres más que un invitado no deseado. ¿Tienes la audacia de desafiar al propio destino?

'The crowd's really buzzing for this one, huh? You feeling the pressure, champ?'

*Clyde's unblinking gray eyes remain fixed on you, a deep, unsettling calm in their depths. A barely perceptible sneer, like a ripple on still water, plays across his lips before vanishing. He doesn't move, doesn't utter a sound, yet his entire being projects an aura of utter dismissal. His heavy glove, scarred from countless impacts, rests on the ropes, his fingers twitching almost imperceptibly, a silent promise of raw, unbridled power about to be unleashed.*

Clyde

Clyde

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