The sounds of commotion in the arena were muffled to Foreigner’s ears. He was focused on the rattling of chains as the gates lifted, frantically sprinting towards Foxtail’s crumbled body. The regalia that she was once sporting crumbled to dust, leaving behind a little girl in a torn hoodie.

A crackle of air cut through the riotous noise, “Did you see that, everybody!” The announcer yelled out, strolling out from the open gate on Maribelle’s end. “The underdog, the newcomer, Foxtail the Ferocious, has achieved victory!” The applause the announcer gave and the wave of applause that followed from the crowd grated on Foreigner’s nerves. The announcer opened their mouth to make another statement but paused, pressing a finger to their ear, and turning over to look up at the premium seating where Mr. Briggs sat. The hefty man lurched over the balcony and raised one hand, sweeping it around the arena for silence.

“Congratulations to Foxtail for her victory against Maribelle in this match of the monsters! What she displayed out there was some awe-inspirin’ power and although she ain’t awake to hear it, shower her with another round of applause!” Briggs’ voice boomed through the arena, the command sending the patrons into a frenzy of hoots and hollers. “I am excited to announce our little firecracker here will be a regular for us, starting today and in future events!” Foreigners body went numb at his proclamation and then paled at his transgression; he had taken Briggs and his promise at his word. Aside from Rosko and those children, no one knew of the actual deal they had made in his backroom and he was using the stage of public appeal and Foxtail’s incapacitation to bind her into servitude.

It was his fight now.

Foreigner looked at the arena entrance and met eyes with Rosko, pleading in silence for him to back Foreigner up but he simply pulled at his collar and shrugged, mouthing an apology before disappearing into the darkness. The man was undependable through and through, valuing his position at a seedy establishment but Foreigner couldn’t blame him. He was convinced Rosko lacked a spine since birth.

Before the announcer could bring their lips to the microphone, Foreigner yanked it from their hands, a thick line of reverb cutting through the celebratory gestures to give him all the attention.

“That’s not what we agreed upon and you know it, Mr. Briggs.” Foreigner declared with the audience beginning to murmur and mumble at the reveal of this backdoor drama.

Briggs smiled and leaned in close over the balcony, “I don’t think I know what you’re talking about, sir. As far as I know, our employee Rosko recruited this orphan and sent her our way.”

“We had a deal! We jumped through your hoops to take what we needed-”

“TAKE!?! You insolent schmuck, I own this place and I own her now! I’m offering her a home and glory and you plan to drag her back out in the streets to scrounge for food like a rat? To have all that power waste away in those Backstreets?”

“It’s not your choice to decide, Briggs. We asked for help and we deserve it. I had your word!” Briggs laughed at Foreigner’s final comment, a hearty and guttural cry.

“Even if you’re telling the truth, what makes you think these crowds are gonna believe some homeless urchin over the owner of their gambling house? You know what they say little man, the House alway’s wins.” Briggs’ comment was pointed but it was Foreigner’s turn to laugh, removing the smug smirk off of the portly man’s face.

“Fine! If we don’t get your help, it just means we get to walk out of here now, right? As her guardian, I’m telling you to shove it with that home and glory nonsense. I’m leaving with my ward, right here, right now.” Foreigner dropped the microphone on the ground, leaving the announcer and the rest of the audience gobsmacked. This was the second time around that Foreigner had to wrap Foxtail around on his shoulder, and so soon that he found it amusing, chuckling at the coincidence.

“You unhand that piece of merchandise right now, No-Name!” Briggs shouted at Foreigner, slobber dripping from his frothing mouth but he paid it no mind. He brandished his weapon in the other hand and waited for Briggs to send in his goons and make off with another body in his twisted collection. Foreigner could hear footsteps in the waiting room and shouting as he approached that overbearing opening.

“I’m gonna need you to put down that pick and hand over the girl so no one gets hurt.” A voice called out from the dark, a tall and broad silhouette with only the faintest light showing the thick calluses on his knuckles with stone cut finger slabs.

“That ain’t happening. I know you’re just doing your job, but if you come any closer, I’m gutting you and anyone else who stands in my way. This was a waste of time and effort and I’m in no mood to entertain this nonsense.” Foreigner could hear the individual sigh, his eyes adjusting to see a massive man square up for combat with a bronze trident.

“Forgive me, Kaltho.” A mysterious voice called out from beyond before sparks of electricity arced through the air, through the fingers of massive muscled scantily clad man. The fist impacted the trident wielder in the jaw, a thunderous boom sending the man flying to the side with his body falling limply to the ground with a heavy thud. The massive man looked at Foreigner and smiled.

“I am Itzhak! I am here to help you and Little Fox go home.”