“I’ll move myself, thanks,” Jonas had opened his eyes and began crawling to his hands and knees. He looked a bit dazed, but that didn’t hide his defiant expression. Blood dripped from his nose, and the skin on his face was reddish and raw. Jonas knew he was a stubborn person, he knew that he could be careless, and he knew that he was arrogant, however, he began to appreciate those feelings more. That stubbornness, that arrogance, that carelessness, he felt like they were his best weapons against those bullies in Hell that had pushed him around. They fueled his willpower, they made him want to rise and rebel against the world. Was this his Pride speaking to him?

“Does your body not understand how to sleep?” Ahmed asked doubtfully as he was sure he had put enough force to knock Jonas out for at least a few hours.

“No idea,” said Jonas whose muscles tore at the seam as he forced himself to his feet. He smiled at Simon and patted his shoulder.

“Care if I take a little break?” Simon couldn’t find the words to reply, but he did manage to nod. Everything he had seen from Jonas in the past two days had completely changed his mind on what was possible from a human being.

Jonas looked at Ahmed and said, “How about you, your Majesty? Is it okay if I take a break before round two?” Ahmed shrugged his shoulders, he felt he didn’t care anymore. Perhaps dealing with Jonas was taking a toll on his mood.

Jonas stepped over to the side of the pit and fell on his ass, he gingerly touched his face but found that the cuts had already begun to close.

‘This ability to heal, it’s incredible,’ he mused as he focused on examining himself. Looking at the back of his hands he was sure that his Sin Scars were more visible than they had been an hour ago.

He found it a bit annoying that neither Old Louie, nor Pride ever explained how to actually use Sin, so he didn’t even understand how he was supposed to control any of his powers. Jonas had no idea what it meant to feel his Sin or to build a connection with it. How did someone build a connection with their pride? He sighed deeply as he looked onward towards Simon and Ahmed who had begun sparring.

He could see it in the way that both Ahmed and Garth fought. When they took things seriously, they moved faster and hit much harder than humanly possible. The only explanation was that they were somehow using Sin to perform these athletic feats, just as Jonas had miraculously healed himself.

Perhaps he could meet with Pride once more and ask questions, or maybe Ahmed would be willing to give a few pointers, though after considering how much he had insulted the fighter, Jonas thought the former was much more likely.

From that very short fight that he had just participated in, Jonas felt like he learned another valuable lesson about Hell, one that coincided with what Simon had taught him earlier. He needed to embrace the pain because if he did he would no longer fear anything.

Jonas felt like his ability to heal would be his best trump card in his bid to become a true Sinner, and although he knew that he wouldn’t be able to heal from anything, he was becoming extremely confident of the fact that his existence was rather unique, something Pride had pointed out to him.

Even with Ahmed going easy on him, Simon was eventually out of breath and in too much pain to continue sparring, so Jonas leaped up from his spot and without any hesitation proceeded to have his ass beat every which way until he was once again down in the sand.

Maybe he was inspired by Jonas’ dedication, but Simon got up once more and prepared for another round of sparring, something that alarmed even Ahmed because he had grown accustomed to the one or two rounds Simon would usually give.

Ahmed had done everything but kill Jonas; he had kicked him, kneed him, fed him elbows, punched him in the head, choked him, knocked the wind out of him, berated him, and even sent a few chops down onto the young man’s neck hoping to make him sleep. It was as if no amount of damage would knock him fully unconscious.

Ahmed became so annoyed that he put too much power behind a kick that hit Jonas in the head. He felt a slight tang of guilt as he looked down at Jonas’ unconscious face which was bleeding profusely.

“He’s not getting up from that one,” Simon said with an ugly expression as he dragged his friend by the feet, leaving him on the outside of the pit.

“Knowing that loudmouth,” said Ahmed slowly, “He’ll be back up in a few minutes,” and it was about ten minutes later that Jonas arose from the dead, his wounds semi-healed and his face extremely red from all the swelling.

“Good kick,” he said, “It was almost enough to put me down for good,” and he tilted his neck, cracking it loudly.

“We’re done for the day,” said Ahmed dryly because he was a bit exasperated at the sheer annoying tenacity that Jonas possessed.

“Already?” asked Jonas, “I guess we’ll have to resume tomorrow,” and Ahmed was starting to regret that he ever decided to take Jonas as a dummy slave.

The rest of the night was not as exciting as the sparring Jonas had experienced during the day. He sat against the bars of his cage and a small trey next to him had a tiny empty wooden bowl, no utensils, and a wooden cup that had once contained water.

“Can’t die of starvation,” thought Jonas depressingly and his stomach grumbled as he recalled when Old Louie had told him that Sinners could even make food appear from thin air. He tried imagining a bacon cheeseburger with all his might, but alas, nothing appeared.

“I’ll split my soup with you if you're still hungry,” said Simon, “I don’t need the whole thing anyway,” and Jonas once again had to appreciate the kindness of his new friend.

“It’s okay,” said Jonas, “I think I’ll manage.”

“But how will you take down Ahmed if you don’t have any energy to fight him?”

“I’ll be fine,” said Jonas confidently, “I don’t even feel hungry,” but this was a lie that could be heard by nearly every slave in the room, “I’m a bit confused about how the structure of this gang works, could you teach me a little bit?” Jonas tried a distraction.

“Well,” began Simon, “Howard Hurts is the boss of the gang. I’ve never seen him but I’m assuming he has to be a big shot to keep guys like Garth and Ahmed as slaves,” which Jonas had to agree with.

“What about Brow?” asked Jonas, “Isn’t he just a manager? How can he just try to claim me as his own?”

“Uh,” began Simon who hadn’t prepared a lesson, “Let me start from the beginning, I guess.”

“Yes, please,” said Jonas.

“The Hurts gang is one of the many gangs in Little Wrath City that deal in the caged fighting business. Every weekend the various gangs will get together at the Little Wrath City Arena, and their gladiators are entered into different types of fights, mostly one on ones. Each gang will put up a purse that can be won, as well as place clever bets in the hopes to make a tidy profit from each fight. Although most of the fighters are small fries, each gang has a couple of really strong types just like the Hurts gang’s top-five.”

“So it’s truly like the old Roman colosseum,” said Jonas, “Are the matches to the death?”

“Not usually,” said Simon, “If you want a deathmatch, the gang leaders will have to propose it ahead of time, and violation of this rule will usually involve having the offending gladiator executed and their gang will be issued a huge fine.”

“That’s kind of them.”

“Makes sense when you consider how much money these gangs make off of gambling,” said Simon, “And if their valuable product was constantly getting killed off, well that would hurt their wallets and you never want to hurt their wallets.”

“So the Hurts gang participates in these fights, how many gladiators do they have?”

“About thirty or so fighters, but only the top-five are worth a damn,” said Simon, “Garth, Wolf, Ahmed, Xiao Lin, and Yotama Yuki.”

“A woman?” Jonas asked curiously.

“Don’t underestimate Yotama-san,” Simon warned, “She’s a bit newer than the other top-five but rightfully deserved her spot after killing the guy she was assigned as a slave dummy to, this jackass named Keal. She’s the only female slave in the whole Hurts gang, as most female slaves in Little Wrath City are used for sex, not fighting. Yotama is different though, she’s a martial arts genius.”

“What’s her record?”

“I’m not exactly sure, she’s been here a lot longer than me. Everything I know is simply hearsay from the other dummy slaves. I know she’s good though.”

“And the others?” Jonas asked.

“I’m not sure really, but I do know that Garth is the only one that is undefeated,” Simon said.

“Only Garth?” Jonas felt a bit bewildered at this revelation.

“Yeah, only Garth,” Simon looked at him stupidly, “There are like fifty gangs who participate in these weekend fights, and each gang has dozens of warriors. It’s nearly impossible to go undefeated when you're fighting so many skilled people from such varying backgrounds and histories.”

“So do the top-five of the Hurts gang ever fight each other?”

“Spars, sure. There isn’t any money to be won in them fighting each other. No one likes fighting Garth, I think Xiao Lin is the only one brave enough to do so. Even Wolf would rather spar with Ahmed here and there. Wolf and Ahmed are really the only two of the top-five that ever spar with the dummy slaves anyways. Wolf uses it as an excuse to train his clique, and I think Ahmed just likes stretching his legs. Garth only comes around to scare the piss out of newcomers and occasionally maim some of them. Your encounter with him was a bit unique.”

“So you’ve never seen Yotama Yuki?”

“No. Can you blame her though? She’s trapped in an underground sewer filled with powerful rapists and men without any manners at all.”

“No, I don’t blame her,” Jonas pitied her situation, though he surmised that being a reclusive female gladiator was a much better fate than what most female slaves were subjected to. He felt a sort of empathy growing for her, he had been subjected to a lot of sexual harassment since he had entered Hell, and he was sure that there were plenty of men like Garth who would have their way with him given the chance.

“I think I understand the idea of everything though. The gang wants to make money on their fights, but only the top-five fighters are worth a damn and can be used to make real money. The rest of the fighters, dummy slaves included are just background characters.”

“Almost,” said Simon, “Those bottom fighters, sometimes the gangs will put a small bet on them to win if the odds are pretty good.”

“So I'm guessing that when a fighter wins, the person who manages them will get a profit?”

“You’re catching on,” said Simon, “If you bring in a fighter to the gang, he’s your responsibility and you can do whatever you please. Since Brow brought you in, technically you’re his problem. If a fighter wins, the person who manages them will get half the profit from the fight purse. If the fighter loses too much, they’ll get turned back into a dummy slave, and the person who manages them will have to find someone more useful.”

“Now things are clicking,” Jonas said as he contemplated the grand scheme of things, “Who owns the top-five?”

“Howard Hurts owns Garth and Xiao Lin. His right-hand man Thomas Vale owns Wolf and Yotama Yuki,” said Simon, “Not sure about Ahmed though, I’m pretty sure his owner died a while back.”

“I’m a little confused, you’re telling me there are only two guys in charge of everything, and the rest of the gang is filled with Brow and basic gang bangers?”

“Think about it, Jonas,” Simon lowered his voice, “If none of the top-five have tried escaping, that means that Howard and Thomas are strong enough to take them all on at once. There aren’t any other high-ranking members simply because the gang doesn’t need them. Besides, if any of the lower fighters tried to rebel, Howard would just sic his beloved monster on them, Garth.”

“That does make sense,” and the thought was a bit disappointing because he had to consider that if he ever wanted to escape, it meant at least going through some of the top-five fighters. Now he had to add two more likely powerful Sinners to the list of people in the way of accomplishing his mission, “So, because Garth is managed by Howard Hurts, he is basically the gang’s most precious fighter?”

“Exactly, that’s why even Brow has such a hard time reigning him in,” Simon explained.

“If I wanted to become a fighter,” said Jonas, “I would need to show that I could win matches, right?”

“That’s exactly how it is,” said Simon, “And if you want my honest opinion, you can accomplish that next week.”

“My bet with Ahmed?”

“Exactly,” Simon's voice became much quieter, “If you manage to throw him on his ass like you said you would, I would bet my left nut that Brow will start training you as a fighter and not as a simple dummy slave,” but he doubted this would ever happen.

“Well, does Brow have any other fighters?” asked Jonas but he was sure he already knew the answer.

“He used to have one that was in the top-five,” Simon was whispering so low that Jonas had to press his head against the iron bars of his cage, “His name was Keal, the guy that Yotama-san killed in cold blood. Ever since that little incident Brow has lost almost all his status in the gang. He used to be third or fourth in command, now he’s demoted to managing the dummy slaves. You could see why he’s so obsessed with finding a talented fighter and reclaiming his past position.”

“Wait,” Jonas was confused, “Yotama-san killed Brow’s fighter?” Jonas couldn’t believe his ears, “If that guy Thomas Vale owns Yotama-san, and she killed Keal, that pretty much means he commissioned the murder of another gang member's slave.”

“That’s exactly what it means,” Simon nodded wisely.

“What happened?” asked Jonas, “Did Keal try to rape her, or something?”

“Don’t underestimate women in Hell,” Simon said, “Just because they murder someone doesn’t mean that the person they killed deserved it. Do you find it shocking that some women could be just as bloodthirsty and violent as men?”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” said Jonas quickly.

“Not every woman in Hell is some damsel in distress who needs a hero,” Simon said, “Those women from the past eras are much tougher than you think, or those Hellite noblewomen, they’re some tough cookies,” and Jonas couldn’t help but smile wryly. He hadn’t meant anything bad by it at all, but he supposed that underestimating women in Hell had nearly led him to have his cock munched off by that crazy French princess.