Boyka’s return was a silent storm. He moved with a terrifying grace that defied his age and his injuries. In the opening rounds, he dismantled his opponents not with rage, but with surgical precision. He wasn't fighting for the money or the belt anymore; he was fighting to prove that a man can be more than the sum of his sins.

The concrete walls of the Zastavka underground prison didn’t just hold men; they held echoes of every bone Boyka had ever broken. After years of fighting for a title that meant nothing in the eyes of the law, Yuri Boyka was finally free—or as free as a man with a shattered knee and a haunted soul could be.

As he stood in the center of the CF ring for the final match, the lights blinding and the crowd roaring his name, Boyka looked at his taped hands. He realized that the cage wasn't around him anymore. For the first time in his life, the Most Complete Fighter in the World was fighting for himself.

The opportunity came in the form of a flyer for the "Undisputed Championship Federation"—the CF. It wasn’t just another underground brawl. It was a sanctioned tournament, a chance to step out of the shadows and prove he was the most complete fighter in the world.

He spent his days in a small community center, cleaning floors and praying for a redemption he didn’t think he deserved. But the ring was a jealous mistress. It didn’t matter how many candles he lit; the sound of leather hitting skin was the only hymn he truly understood.