The last match of the day for me was Sandman, who kind of flowed up into the ring as a living sandstorm, attracting a lot of attention, and coalesced in front of me.

“Um, yer looking pretty impressive, Dynamo,” he said somewhat awkwardly, as he shaped his fists into mallets.

“Thanks, Marko,” I replied simply, hands also up. “I’ll make this quick.”

His face twisted at my reply, and he was about to say something with bravado when the referee shouted, “Fight!”

A second later he was looking at me after my arm punched clear through his concrete-hard chest with a loud crack, and his whole body froze. A second later, it collapsed around my arm into loose grit, leaving my fist on the other side, holding onto an unseen handful of sand.

The ref blinked. “Uh, TKO and match to Dynamo!” he called out, a bit confused at the speed of the takedown, even for me.

I dusted off my arm, letting that handful of sand fall to the ground. There was a swirl and shuffle after a few seconds delay, and Marko rose up out of the sand, managing to look both regretful and chagrinned.

“You never waste words, do you, Dynamo?” he muttered, shoulders drooping.

“There’s a reason I’m seeded higher than you, Marko,” I chided him, putting a hand on his shoulder for a pat as we headed for the stairs off here. It was still a big ring, although I hadn’t had to use most of it for most of the fights. “Say, how do you like spicy food? Dealer has a restaurant here...”

“Yeah? If it’s got beer, I’m good!” he agreed immediately.

-----------

“What do you think, Fuzzy?” Sama asked lazily. This was a rare chance to be a bit lazy, as if most of the world had decided that pulling shit while an Elder of the Universe and a few thousand bored super-warriors of alien races were around might be a bad idea.

“She’s an intelligent combatant, that is certain, but she doesn’t have the heart of a fighter. What’s with the sudden physical boost?” Briggs rumbled, curious.

“She took down the Wrecking Crew several months ago... and I mean, ALL the way down. Destroyed the weapons that gave them their Boosts and everything.”

“Ah, the incident with the Avengers, and Octavius. I, uh, understand she hunted Kraven across Africa, and turned him into a zebra?” he recalled.

“He’s still giving children’s rides at the Bronx Zoo,” Sama confirmed. “She’s doing an excellent job taking players off the board, or redirecting them.” She /flicked him a Markfile he scanned through in a second.

“The Beetle as a security chief?” Briggs grinned despite himself. “Electro. Clea and the Scarlet Witch, good, I don’t trust Harkness further then I can spit her... oh, the Blob and the Toad are off the board. That is excellent, well done,” he praised despite himself.

“Peggy wants to recruit the Frogger for SHIELD, he’s a natural agent. Look at the techno material.”

His pale violet eyes didn’t stop watching the less important competitions on dozens of screens as he did so, but they did flicker for a moment. “That’s a 20-Rank Dimensional Physics Thesis on both sides of the aisle,” he murmured in a low voice. “She made that?”

“Uh-huh. Points one through thirty-four,” Sama went on.

He flickered through them, and frowned slightly. “Most interesting. She put herself right into the heart of technological advancement in the States, and has been contributing to multiple nexus points, helping them jump hurdles to advance both the ceiling and the floor. She’s not making the key things herself, but she’s taking them over the edge...”

“Her body of work is very interesting, and it definitely isn’t stolen from any of us. Richards is rapidly moving into things equal to us, albeit in a narrow vein, and Parker is making exceptional progress in the chemical areas, especially with her Alchemical help.”

“We knew that was coming, but her contributions are remarkably prescient.” He flicked in more files from other sources, and smiled. “She has a talent for annoying Stark’s boy, I see.”

“She has an improvement for everything he posts. I imagine she does for Richards, too, but he doesn’t care.”

“That indicates a frighteningly intelligent woman, Sama.”

“Most interesting of all, I think she was supposed to be Jessica Drew.”

Briggs glanced at Sama curiously, then ran a few replays through his head of non-Arena activities caught on magical film and other files. “Okay, that fits as far as build goes. If she emphasizes her electrical powers, she might not even know she’s a Spider Totem, and she was definitely putting out a huge amount of juice in her duel with Comet.”

“Jessica Drew isn’t supposed to be a super-genius,” Sama pointed out.

He waved it away. “Given her electrical powers, evolving in a different direction is totally possible. More interesting is where she received her alchemical training from...”

“Yes, we are completely blank on her past, and since Phoenix reduced the one link we had to slag, it’s severed completely... unless someone shows up who knows something,” Sama grumbled.

Briggs half-smiled. “Adverse signs from her?” he asked calmly.

“No, the complete opposite for herself and that Dealer she associates with. I get very positive vibes off both of them. If a tad mercenary at times, the activities of them and those around them have definitely been bent in a better direction.”

“I still can’t believe you trained the reincarnation of Red Sonja!” Briggs grumbled, a grin threatening to split his face.

“Just wait until I find Conan and send him to you!” she threatened him. “Mary Jane Watson, of all people...”

“She’s had six matches already, and won them all, including against a Widow,” Briggs noted.

“She’s a Fourteen! Natasha would be lucky to beat her,” Sama sniffed proudly. “With a Sword, forget it!”

Briggs had to agree. A Seven Dragons Null Swordswoman was utterly terrifying with a Sword in hand. The reincarnation of one of the best swordswomen of history, trained by Sama? As if!

“I noted there’s a Black Cat come out of nowhere, too,” he mentioned to her.

“And superhuman.” Sama flicked one of his own Widows’ reports to him. “She’s very good, I watched two of her initial ranking matches. At least a Ten in Melee.”

“That is... very interesting. Do we have anything on her?” His brow furrowed. Ten Melees did not fall off trees.

“Not a damn thing. Apparently, she has been ripping off various individuals tied to money-making criminal endeavors up and down the East Coast.” Sama quirked a smile. “You remember that little blow-up Midas had over his E-Metals monopoly exchange there?”

“Mmm, yes. Been meaning to put some pressure on him about that some time ago. Something about, ah, inventory inaccuracies?”

“We’re pretty sure Midas was cleaned out of over a hundred tons of high-end Isotopes, including his entire supply of volturium, if his scrambling to meet some outstanding orders was any sign,” Sama told him.

“That’s... a very good thief,” Briggs noted diplomatically. “Does she take commissions?”

“Not that we know of publicly, and she’s been very good at how she’s disposed of her goods. Peggy’s tried to have her followed twice, and lost her both times.” Sama was definitely amused.

There was a mental /beep to both of them, and they glanced at the incoming report.

The Starjammer had just entered the system and identified itself. The two glanced at one another.

“Lilandra,” Sama muttered. “The Shi’ar will be following.”

“Corsair,” Briggs pointed out. “And the Brood.”

“Fucking Brood. At least the Phoenix Force isn’t going to eat a goddamn star this time around.”

“Hopefully,” Briggs said piously. “Still irritated we didn’t stop that scout back then.”

“Sneaky birds.” Sama’s eyes narrowed. “That means that idiot D’Ken is probably mucking around the M’krann Crystal.”

Briggs’ face hardened. “A trip to the Nebula finally in the works?”

“I wanna see Primus clean Gladiator’s clock at least once...”

“Mmm, so does he...”

-----------

“Great! You’re here!”

I blinked at Dealer, who scooted up to me, and promptly cast a Mass Simulacrum on me.

Naturally the spell couldn’t imitate the Wrecker Buff or my Pact, and instead just popped up thirty doubles of me at normal size, all looking similarly surprised at coming into existence. Dealer even had the ice statues to be converted hidden away and brought forth to do this.

“Kitchens, one through ten! Eleven through twenty, go help in the casino! Twenty-one plus, bars and serving here!” Dealer ordered, waving her hand, and black domino masks descended on each of the simulacra, each numbered, and server’s outfits wrapped up each of them.

They all looked at one another, then at me. I tossed up my hands helplessly, they all shook their heads the same way, and streamed away to start working.

“Yay! I can take a break!” Dealer breathed, looking at our large party coming in. “Oh, we just opened another section, so we’ve got room for everyone!” She leaned forward to me. “You would not believe how much delivery business I am doing for the low-tier stuff!” she stage-whispered.

“Hopefully at very inflated prices,” I murmured back, and she grinned widely. “Hocked any planets yet?”

“Two came through as ego raises in games, but they were mostly just rocks in space. Still, it’s the thought,” she replied casually, heading back to a new section dimensionally opened to expand the restaurant that was absolutely full of an active mix of aliens and humans. Several attractive female aliens in serving outfits were working there energetically, plainly keeping busy, and the air was full of a subtle and extremely complex array of odors that had my mouth watering.

Making other things water, too, judging by the aliens stumbling out of the jakes area in interesting hues and shades not quite standard for their species.

Our crew, which had now expanded to include all the Asgardians and most of the stronger women I’d beat on, soon had basically the equivalent of a small hall to ourselves, and the food was coming in with the drinks within minutes. Mr. Hill kicked back to the side with Grimm and Marko, and somehow I wasn’t surprised when the Brass Bull and Atlas wandered in, and the rest of the oversized Terran and alien muscle crew, sans the Hulk. Mr. Hill had rep with those guys.

“So, where IS the Hulk?” I asked Dealer, kicking back and chowing on some half-molten grade fajitas that most of the people here wouldn’t touch.