Jonas' dream room was quite bare: Wolf was quite the minimalist. There was a king-sized bed with musty linens, a large wooden wardrobe, a wooden table, and a lazy boy chair. Spread across one wall was a massive Canadian flag, and in the corner of the room was a bench press and a rack of dumbbells. It felt strange being in Wolf's private area, and the room still had his lingering smell.

"I'm going to need some fresh bedding and some candles for the smell," the minimalism didn't bother Jonas; it was reminders of Wolf that made him uncomfortable. The room was massive and almost the same size as a small apartment.

"No problem," Brow crossed his arms and smirked. "It's nice, right?"

“Not bad,” Jonas said while feeling the rough stone walls with his fingertips.

“Not bad?” Brow gave him a strange look. “You lived in a cage for a year, and all you can say is not bad?”

“I just thought it would be a bit more luxurious.”

“You want luxuries?” Brow shook his head. “You earn them, just as you earned the room.”

“I’d like a mini fridge,” Jonas named off his Christmas list, “Plush blankets, an office desk, a laptop,” he stroked his chin as his eyes examined the main room. “A couch and probably some end tables over there.”

“Let me just call IKEA and see what I can do,” Brow felt like smacking him, but he found the inner patience not to. It was apparent that Jonas didn't appreciate how expensive and difficult it was to get furniture into the Hurts gang.

“So, how does this work?” Jonas asked. “What privileges do I have now that I’m a top-five fighter?”

“Do whatever you want,” Brow shrugged his shoulders. “There aren't many rules: don’t attack gang members or try to escape. If you win your fights, you can come and go as you please and do whatever your heart desires. You're a top dog, so make sure you act like it."

“Not bad,” said Jonas. He smiled while thinking about all the times he’d make his way down to Yuki’s bedroom.

“And when I say you need to win your fights,” Brow narrowed his eyes. “I mean, you better fucking win your fights. The gravy train will stop rolling if you’re not making money for the gang.”

“No shit,” said Jonas. “They’re not giving me this room for my pretty face.”

“You got that right. Anyway, I’m going to check out my room. Once you've won your first fight, we can talk about getting you some new furniture,” Brow turned to leave.

“Which will be when?”

“Two-three weeks from now, I think. Fights for the main card always require more preparation and build-up,” Brow was halfway out of the room. “I’ll see you in the morning for breakfast. Good work, Jonas,” and the door closed behind him.

Jonas made a face because it felt strange when Brow called him by name. He shrugged his shoulders, shook the eagle-eyed gangster out of his mind, and headed toward the giant bed, where he pulled off the sheets and pillows and tossed them to the floor. He jumped on the bed, and the mattress springs creaked as he fell onto his back. The fabric was old-fashioned and scratchy, but it was still better than sleeping with Wolf's scent lingering around him.

The room and all its benefits: privacy, comfort, and relaxation brought a smile to his face as he lay on the bed. Jonas sniffed the air and was only able to smell himself. Then, it occurred to him how disgusting he was. Just as he prepared to visit his bathroom, a knock came on the door.

"Come in?" Jonas sat up. He knew it wasn't Yuki because the knock had been too hard. The door creaked open, and Ahmed crept inside. "Ahmed, what's up?"

"You should lock your door. Anyway, we couldn't talk with Brow right nearby. I still had some things I wanted to discuss."

"Come in," Jonas went to the table and pulled out chairs. He beckoned Ahmed, and the two of them had a seat.

"I'd offer you refreshments, but I don't have any."

"I'm fine," Ahmed narrowed his thick brows. "How are you feeling about the room?"

"It's great—nice and roomy, but I haven't got to check out the bath."

"Clearly," said Ahmed. "You're a mess. I've never seen a person who could so casually sit while covered in blood and bile."

"Alright, alright," Jonas pushed his matted bangs out of his face. "I'll take a bath as soon as you go. What does your room look like?”

“Like this one,” Ahmed said. “I’m a minimalist, so it’s quite bare, too.”

“I can’t believe we finally made it. It’s crazy how much has changed since the time Brow assigned me as your dummy slave.”

“Not that much,” Ahmed smiled. “You’re still annoying and a bit crazy,” Jonas smirked. They had been together for almost a year, and within that time, they'd fought each other every day: sharpening their bodies, Sin, and friendship. Ahmed was rough around the edges, but he was the closest thing to a big brother that Jonas had since being separated from his real brother.

“Tomorrow, I’m going to talk to Simon and Johnson. We need to start planning how we’re going to get the fuck out of here. Did you know the entrance to the gang has a password to get in and out?"

"I agree that it's time to go. However, I was unaware of a password. I haven't been in the entrance hall for hundreds of years. How did you learn this?"

"Brow told me. He said that Howard and Thomas only share the password when they're here at headquarters. We will either have to wait for one of them to open the door or find out which gangsters know the password while they're here."

"Brow told you?" Ahmed looked surprised. "He's an idiot."

"He is," Jonas agreed. "I think he just assumed I'd never try escaping, so he flapped his gums because he's important again. Perhaps, he thinks he'll get the password," Ahmed nodded in agreement.

"So, how does that change the plan?"

"It means that our final stand will happen in the entrance hall. We'll wait for Howard and Thomas to return from the top side. Then, when they open the door, we'll jump them. However, they'll be hard-pressed to stay together because the rest of the boys will be causing mayhem and destroying everything. Hopefully, Thomas leaves to stop the slaves because that gives us a chance to kill Howard."

"You think they'll separate?" Ahmed stroked his beard.

"Probably. Even with me, you, and Yuki, Howard would be confident in beating us and still send Thomas away."

"That's a good possibility. However, what if a member of the gang can contact either leader? That would mean our element of surprise is gone."

"That's true," Jonas sighed.

"Don't worry so much. We made it this far; we'll make it even farther," Ahmed clapped his shoulder.

The two of them spoke for a bit longer before Ahmed decided to call it a night, but Jonas wasn’t too upset, as he wanted to enjoy a bath. He watched the old warrior close the door, and Jonas locked it. Then he made his way across the room and pushed open a wooden door to the bathroom. It was nowhere near as extravagant as Yuki's, but it still had a claw-foot bathtub, sink, and toilet.

“Bath time,” Jonas turned the silver taps, and he watched as hot water blasted into the white tub. Eventually, the bath filled up, and Jonas hopped in and watched the dried blood melt off his skin and fade into the hot water.

Thirty minutes later, Jonas was dried and standing naked in front of his wardrobe as he contemplated what to wear. There wasn't a vast selection, and anything left behind by Wolf was sure to be too baggy on Jonas' body. However, he grabbed a pair of prison slacks and put them on. He'd be sure to ask Brow for new clothes and shoes tomorrow. Jonas knew he wouldn’t be there for too long, but he figured he should enjoy every second of his luxuries because he had worked hard to earn them.

Once again, Jonas hit the mattress and stretched his body. He stared up at the mossy ceiling and closed his eyes. It wasn't long before he finally fell asleep.

He opened his eyes some hours later. He had expected to hear the crow of slaves, but there was nothing but silence. The quietness was unfamiliar to him, and it took a lot of energy and determination to push himself off the bed. Jonas' body was programmed to know the time without any clock. Jonas knew it was the crack of dawn, and breakfast was on the way. Soon enough, there was knocking on the door, and Brow's voice called out.

"Food time, open up," Jonas crossed the room and opened the door. His manager was holding a large tray of food. "Don't expect me to bring you food every morning. I'm only here because I wanted to see you before I leave for the surface."

"Thanks," Jonas took the food and set it on the table. "Where are you headed?"

"To get supplies for you," Brow flexed his fingers. "Make a list of what you want, and I'll try my best to get it. Oh, and don't ask for anything crazy. Just stick to the basics, and I'll get you better stuff when you've won some fights."

"Medium clothes, size ten shoes, bedding, some pillows, and toiletries. Also, could you have some guys come in and get rid of Wolf's old stuff?"

"Fine, just leave your key with me," Brow waved his hand. "Eat up, and I'll see you tonight. We've got big things ahead of us, big things!"

After eating, Jonas left to meet his crew for their sparring session, and he felt strange walking around the gang headquarters without supervision. Just as he entered the fighter's wing, Jonas caught sight of a handsome, light-skinned gladiator leaving the showers. Jaden Jackson would probably have been the most popular name among the blue-collar gladiators if it hadn't been for Jonas' popularity. He was only a few years older and had won numerous fights already. He wasn't part of anyone's crew, and some small-time gang banger was managing him.

“Sup, Jaden,” Jonas stuck out his fist, and Jaden beamed while returning the greeting.

“What's good, J? I’m surprised to see you're still alive,” Jonas gave him a cocky smile.

“They can't get rid of me that easily. I just officially became a top-five fighter."

“Are you fucking with me, bro?”

“Didn’t you hear about the fight earlier?”

“Everyone heard about the fight earlier,” Jaden shook his head in disbelief. “They said your ass killed Wolf, but I didn’t believe it.”

“Well, believe it,” Jonas crossed his arms.

“Holy fuck,” Jaden was shocked to the point his jaw nearly hit the floor. “You’re a top-five fighter, then? Like for real?”

“Hell yeah,” Jonas had always found Jaden quite hilarious. He was the guy who always made exaggerated facial expressions and had a contagious laugh.

“Fuck, man, let me check out your bath when you ain’t using it.”

“Check out my balls,” Jonas scoffed. “You're not getting your crusty ass in my tub."

“Damn,” Jaden looked offended. “It’s like that, huh?”

“Unfortunately, it’s like that,” Jonas felt playful. “If you want the tub, you just have to kill me and become a top-five fighter.”

“I’ll stick with the cold public shower,” Jaden frowned as he and Jonas came to the doors of the fighter’s barracks.

“Jaden,” Jonas said while opening the door. “If you want to see some birds flying the nest, you should hang out with Simon and Johnson for a bit,” for a moment, Jaden squinted at Jonas, trying to figure out the meaning.

“Birds flying the nest?” he mumbled to himself, and the meaning dawned on him. He gave Jonas a small smile before nodding his head. “Got it, bro, thanks,” and he said nothing else on the topic. Jonas couldn’t be sure whether Jaden was trustworthy, but he had turned himself from a dummy slave into a top-twenty fighter in less than a year, and he was only twenty years old.

Jaden was talented and likable, so Jonas didn't see a reason not to include the young fighter in his escape plan. However, he still wanted to have his crew vet him.