Inside the locker room on the second night, the mood had shifted. No longer were there sidelong views and whispers. Coop Sabre was back and not just a tourist or for publicity. Oh no, he was there to fight. Even after the beating he took, Ramirez showed his banged up and bandaged face, shaking Coop’s hand while the board filled with names. Coop didn’t have to look at the board. He knew what was coming, who it was, and what to expect. That meant pacing around the room.

Fighters came and went, injuries more gruesome than the last filtering through after each fight. It became abundantly clear to Coop how important Ramirez was; him helping direct traffic, encourage and hype fighters up, then cool them down when they got back after a fight. That was the role TAKASHI used to occupy back when Coop breezed through before, meaning TAKASHI had become more elusive with Ramirez taking his spot.

“So, where’s TAKASHI?” Coop asked Ramirez.

“What do you mean?”

“Last time I was here, he was the one back here taking care of everyone. I know he’s kicking around,” Coop said. “I just expected to see him doing this still.”

“Nothing lasts forever, right?” Ramirez asked. “After I defeated him last year, he did that thing he does... you know what I’m talking about?”

“Where he frowns, crosses his arms and speaks in a low, gravely voice?” Coop couldn’t help but remember the last time they’d had that talk, the night before he left.

“Yeah, you know what I’m talking about,” Ramirez laughed. “We had that talk after our fight, only it was about him stepping back.”

“You mean retire,” Coop said.

“In TAKASHI terms, yeah. Not that he’s sticking to it. Tonight’s the first time he’s stepped back in the ring. That’s a big deal, I hope you know that.”

“You weren’t around when I was here, I don’t think.” Coop took a deep breath, trying not to let the moment overwhelm him. He knew TAKASHI was getting older and fighting less, but not that he’d stopped completely.

“Nah. I was here, but not fighting yet.”

“So you saw it, then?” he asked. There was no need to quantify further. If he was around, he’d know.

“You mean your last fight here? Yeah, I saw it. That’s why I wanted the first crack at you. Pride in Ushinatta. Showing you what happened to the guy in the crowd who saw you unseat the king and just... leave.”

“That wasn’t great of me, I know that now.”

“There’s a lot more to this place and these people than most think.” Ramirez paused for a moment, glaring back at the board and the old lady with her marker. “I think they’re ready for you now. Right?”

“The ring’s all set up,” she barked back.

“Thanks.” Coop offered a hand to Ramirez, him pausing for a moment before taking it and nodding.

“Good luck out there,” Ramirez said. “You’re gonna need it, wild thing.”

Hearing that name again sent a shiver down his spine. From down the hall, he heard the swell of a guitar, knowing he wasn’t just a distant memory to Ushinatta, but something much more important. The song was ancient at this point, but had become his calling card at Ushinatta, fitting to his fight style and attitude. Drums pounded and the female vocalist shouted out the first few notes, the crowd joining in while Coop gripped his new bat and adjusted his jacket. The cries sent chills down his spine.

“WILD THING!”

That was his calling card. Coop burst through the tattered old black curtain to the roar of the crowd while the song pulsated through the fighting pit. In the sterilized world of the fight league, he was the lone human that stood defiant to races of bigger, badder aliens, and had fallen. Here he was a legend, a god among the rabble who battled among the legends and lit Ushinatta ablaze before his uncle scooped him out of the relative obscurity of the Ushinatta fighting pits to better utilize—or monetize—his talents. He’d forgotten the power of that song, the sound of the crowd while he sauntered into the ring. Some pelted drinks at the chain-link fence, the fence catching the cups and bottles but still splashing on him.

Coop soaked it up, taunting them and eyeballing the ring. Much like the previous night, the ropes had been replaced with barbed wire, but now boards lined the outside with charge boxes, much bigger than just the ones electrifying the wires. He swallowed hard, knowing what was in store for them and how TAKASHI was the real wild man, assembling the deadliest of deathmatches for an old rival. Rolling under the barbed wire, Coop raised the bat high in the center of the ring, soaking it all in before his music faded and the familiar drum beat and wailing guitar hit from TAKASHI’s music.

The crowd needed no further prompting. This was his home, and these were his people. According to Ramirez, it’d been years since TAKASHI stepped into the ring. While it was a homecoming for Coop, there was no way he was the favorite of this crowd. His old rival emerged from behind the curtain, carrying the largest bundle of tubes Coop could imagine, taped together to form a crucifix. TAKASHI was never one for subtlety, carrying it over his shoulder while the crowd erupted. He pumped his fists while the chanted along with his music, waiting for the belted out chorus to chant, “THIS IS WAR!”

This was his moment, Coop thought to himself. TAKASHI chose when he wanted to fight again and who, and he chose Coop. Both men stood across the ring from each other; Coop with his new bat in hand, TAKASHI with his crucifix slung over his shoulder while a hush came over the crowd. History was about to be made in Ushinatta, with this being the final meeting between the man once known as the “Wild Thing,” Coop Sabre, and the eternal champion of the fighting pits, TAKASHI. Coop slid his jacket off, tossing it out of the ring, TAKASHI following suit with his elaborate red vest, exposing his scarred chest. The man had at one time been solid muscle, but now had a paunch that hung over his red, flame-emblazoned pants. A haggard looking older man in full protective gear stepped in between the combatants, raising his gloved hand up, instructing them to wait for his mark.

“Ready?” He turned to Cooper, who nodded, then over to TAKASHI. “Ready?”

TAKASHI nodded.

“FIGHT!” The referee brought his hand down, the bell ringing and the adrenaline pumped in Coop’s veins before he charged in, TAKASHI charging back.