Ralph began to sway on the spot and then he fell to the ground with a thunderous clap that sounded like someone had dropped a dead cow from ten stories high. Jonas’ knee had gone completely numb and the only thing that prevented him from also falling over was his sheer willpower and his ability to embrace the pain. There was blood covering his prison scrubs, and he had a black eye and split lip, and overall he looked very terrible, but there was burning confidence in his expression and it gave the impression of victory.

Jonas had a very satisfying feeling in his heart, and the fact that such an insurmountable mountain had finally been climbed made him feel like pounding his chest like a gorilla, roaring like a lion, and stabbing an American flag into every chunk of land he could find.

The spectators watched in shock as Ralph lay bleeding on the floor, his eyes rolled back into his skull, but none were more shocked than Wolf and his pack, all of them wore ugly expressions.

“How was that, Wolf?” Jonas wore a provoking grin, “A lowly slave has now taken down your right-hand man, and your lover,” and Wolf wasn’t smiling nearly as politely as he usually did.

“Watch it, bud,” there was an extremely dangerous glint in his eye, a throbbing vein looked to be close to bursting on his forehead, and he had his fists clenched tightly. Jonas knew that Wolf was very agitated, and his instincts were screaming at him to back away before he had his throat torn out.

Although the various spectating fighters thought Jonas stupid for picking a fight with a dangerous top-five like Wolf, they were also secretly impressed that it had only taken Jonas three attempts to beat Ralph, and if any of them had been honest with themselves, none of them were confident they could knock Ralph out even if they were given ten tries. Jonas knew that if he wanted to establish himself as a fighter, he couldn't back down from fear. The wolves surrounded their pack leader, and there was a killing intent that permeated the room.

“I can do this every day,” said Jonas, there was a daring look in his eye, “I’ll use every single one of your wolves as my stepping stones, and eventually,” he smiled cruelly, “I’ll use you," and Wolf stepped forward but as he did, Ahmed stepped next to Jonas. There was trepidation in the old dog's expression, and for a moment he and the old goat herder stared each other down. Finally, it seemed as if Wolf had decided an all-out brawl wasn't worth it.

“Let’s hope you don’t slip and fall,” Wolf couldn’t be bothered to lose any more face than he already had, and he beckoned his crew to follow.

"What about Ralph?" Pete looked back at the bleeding giant, his expression looked hurt and confused.

“Just leave that useless fuck on the ground,” Wolf turned his head and growled, “Not like any of us can carry him,” and he left the room with his gang at his heel but Jonas noticed that they snuck glances back at the unconscious Ralph, there was an obvious surprise in their eyes and they began to worry they would be abandoned by their leader.

“Good work,” said Ahmed, “It wasn’t perfect, but I knew you had it in you.”

“Thanks,” said Jonas, he was feeling extremely sore since the adrenaline was leaving his system, “I can’t believe I landed that knee drop. Luckily, we practiced flipping off the wall.”

“Yes, but you never managed to get that much height when you practiced,” said Ahmed, “Though like usual, you perform best when under pressure.”

“I kind of want to try it again,” and Jonas looked at the wall but thought better of it, considering his kneecap felt like it was hanging on by a thread. He glanced down at the unconscious giant who was bleeding out of his skull, he resembled a large wolf abandoned by its pack.

Thinking back, Ralph had never actually gone out of his way to provoke Jonas, and in fact, the only reason Jonas ever had a conflict with him was because of his relationship with Wolf, and his height, one of those things wasn’t even his fault.

Jonas tore off a piece of his prison shirt and stepped toward Ralph, and much to the surprise of everyone who was still watching, he wrapped the bandage around Ralph’s head and tightened it so that it would help stop the bleeding.

“I’d try to carry you if I could,” said Jonas, “Sorry I fucked everything up for you,” he knew that Ralph would probably be alone from then on.

“Don’t show pity to the enemy,” said Ahmed as they began walking toward the exit to take an early night off.

“He isn’t my enemy,” said Jonas, “He’s just another slave that helped me get stronger, just like a sparring partner,” he looked at Ahmed, “Really, I should be thanking him.”

“Are you confident you could beat him again?” Ahmed wasn't surprised at Jonas' show of empathy, the young man had stuck out a hand to help him up, and had stood up for him when Brow had been saying cruel things. Jonas stopped for a moment and looked at his hands, his knuckles were red and swollen but he couldn’t help but feel a power radiating from them, and he looked at the glowing crosses that were clearer than ever, a smile appeared on his face.

“I feel like if I fought Ralph ten times, I’d win at least nine.”

“Not ten?”

“Anything can happen in a fight,” said Jonas dismissively, “I’m more confident in this belief than I am that I could never lose to Ralph. That’s the type of Pride I want, absolute confidence in my beliefs.”

“What about your capabilities?”

“Those as well,” Jonas gave a bloody smile as his stomach growled and he couldn’t wait to enjoy his lunch. The two split up in the fight pits, and when Jonas came back to the slave room, both Johnson and Simon were pleasantly surprised that their friend hadn't returned unconscious.

“What happened?” Johnson asked excitedly.

“Did you win?” Simon perked up from his spot.

“Of course,” said Jonas confidently, “Third times a charm,” and his two friends cheered in their cages as they prepared to celebrate with the grilled rat skewers that had just arrived. A bit later after lunch, Jonas got another bout of good news, as Brow eventually showed up.

"I was gone for three days and you managed to almost die, again," Brow growled, but Jonas noticed he didn't look very angry, instead he looked a bit pleased, "Good work on beating him, I'm impressed," and then he threw a bundle of soft fabrics through the door of Jonas' cage.

“What’s this?” Jonas began to unwrap them rather excitedly, like a kid on Christmas.

“Your blanket and pillow,” said Brow, “It’s late, but I had to leave for a few days on business, I picked those up at a thrift shop."

"Thank you," Jonas wasn't complaining that they were used, he was very excited to have something soft to lay on.

"I'll take them back and give them to Garth if you even think about losing your upcoming fight. Speaking of the fight, you'll be able to use the fighter's shower the morning of," Brow locked the cage and stowed away the key. Jonas ignored the threat and focused on keeping the conversation cordial.

"Is there soap?" he asked politely.

"You'll get a tiny amount, so make it last," and there was growing impatience on Brow's face.

“What about shampoo, and conditioner?”

“Jesus Christ!” Brow looked like someone had slapped him, “Do you think this is a fucking Hilton?” he took a breath and glared at Jonas, “You’ll get a single pump of shampoo, and don't ask for another fucking thing or I swear to the King of Hell I'll slit your throat to save myself from having to deal with any more of your bullshit.”

Jonas still wasn't a fan of being spoken to like an insignificant dog, but he knew he had to continue to play the part until he could be the one barking threats, a top-five fighter. The back of his hands glowed a bright crimson, he clenched his fists and swelled with pride. Brow strode away and Jonas imagined crushing his skull with a knee drop, perhaps he deserved it more than Ralph.

He examined the bedding that Brow had brought him, the pillow had a dingy pillowcase on it, but the material was soft. The blanket was musty, smelling like it had been stored in a closet, but it was good enough. He folded the blanket onto the cold iron cage and made a bed with it, and for the first time in months, he recalled the comfort that fabrics could bring: a soft pillow, a warm blanket, or a perfect mattress.

“Lucky bastard,” said Simon, “Let me use them tomorrow?”

“Fuck you,” said Jonas, “The only sweaty balls that belong in this blanket are my own,” and his two friends could see that he wasn’t going to budge, so they instead leached off his food and beer, which Jonas was happy to share.

Jonas found his cage quite boring, and most of the time he began longing for the freedom of the fight pit, and the gymnasium, for even if he was getting his ass kicked, it was better than rotting in a cage too small for himself. The only thing that truly kept him going was his two friends, Simon and Johnson, as well as the oversized portions of food that allowed him to feed the three of them.

When Jonas awoke the next day he felt like a million Sin Stones, and he couldn’t recall the last time he had woken up without a kink in his back from the cold iron floor. After devouring his breakfast, Jonas and his fellow slaves made their way to the pits.

“We need to get you ready for your first match,” said Ahmed, “I’ll be fighting too, so I need the practice.”

“Are you in the preliminary?” Johnson asked.

“No,” said Ahmed, “Top-five fighters are always on the main card."

“Who’s your opponent?” Jonas asked.

“Michael Davis,” said Ahmed, “He’s a top-five fighter of the Marino gang, we’ve fought before."

“And?”

"Two wins, two losses. This will be the tiebreaker that everyone has been waiting for.”

“If I had any money, I’d bet it on you,” said Jonas.

“If you bet your money on either of the days I lost, you'd probably have regretted it.”

“Nope,” said Jonas, “What’s life without a little risk, especially if you’re risking it on your friends.”

Ahmed shook his head but wore an endearing smile. It didn't last long as he needed to get serious, for they both had difficult fights coming up. He and Jonas immediately paired off for sparing, while Johnson and Simon paired off as they usually did.

Jonas was strong enough to beat the lieutenant of a top-five fighter, which meant that he was at least in the top twenty fighter slaves. Regardless of his position, he felt proud of his accomplishment, and although he wasn’t the strongest, he knew that his eighteen year-old-self wasn’t so easily bullied anymore, particularly by extremely large sadistic men who had a fetish for picking on smaller people.

'One day,’ Jonas swore to himself, ‘I’m going to kill Garth, and Rick,' he continued to recall the people who had screwed him, 'Those three human trafficking scum bags,’ he could just slightly remember the faces of his former employers that had caused his first round of enslavement.

He was talking a big game but he still had yet to kill a person, though he felt like deep down in his heart of hearts, it was only a matter of time before it happened. Jonas knew that murder was inevitable if he wanted to become a good Sinner, all of the strongest fighters he knew of had committed the act. Yotama Yuki had brutally killed her former lover, Keal. Garth enjoyed killing by the dozens, Wolf feasted with his pack, and even Ahmed had killed many people during his thousand years in Hell. Eventually, Jonas would have to get his hands dirty, and when that time came, he couldn't hesitate.