Among suburban America’s rivers and lakes, parking lots and strip malls exists a secret community of warriors: martial pilgrims, spiritual leaders, and sublime masters. Bowing to no temporal authority and
disregarding such mortal concerns as effectiveness, authenticity, racism, or taste, they clash with one another in underground fight clubs, heavily padded tournament halls, or black-backgrounded forums on the Internet.
Maybe you got into this business because you wanted strength or toughness or respect. Maybe you watched too much anime, too much Ultimate Fighting, or too many wuxia films. Maybe you needed a front for your drug dealership, or maybe you were just lonely. In any case, there’s no backing out now. The gloves are off, or in some cases on, depending on your style. Ahead of you, the road to hell is paved with broken bottles, splintered timber, and the curbstomped faces of your enemies. Right after that it’s paved with warrants for your arrest. Now come out and play.