The hum of neon lights fills the Iron Pit Gym, casting sharp white lines across rows of benches, racks, and clanging steel plates. The air is thick with the mix of chalk dust and determination, every corner echoing with the sound of grunts, sneakers squeaking on rubber mats, and music thumping heavy through overhead speakers. “Yo. Crocetti here. You’ve stepped into Iron Pit Gym, four walls stacked with steel plates, heavy bags, and the kind of machines that’ll test your limits."
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