Jonas soon realized that he wasn't wrong when he said that people in the gang would start to take notice of him. Although gang leadership hadn't stopped by his cage for a chit-chat, that didn't stop the rest of the slaves, low-ranking gang members, and the blue-collar fighters from acknowledging the fact that a new prodigy had been born in the Hurts gang, one that was managed by Brow.

There was certain respect and politeness afforded to Jonas that he hadn't received before. Gang guards stopped harassing and swearing at him, and some of them even gave nods when he was out and about. The slaves gave him both looks of envy and admiration, as some of them were jealous of his circumstances, while others wished to be like Simon and Johnson, to be by his side while enjoying the fruits of his labor.

Although the various fighters hadn't dropped their rat skewers to chase his tail and beg to be his followers, they still spoke to him rather respectfully, and none of them dared to pick a fight. Most of them still didn't want to involve themselves in the impending beef between Wolf and Jonas, and it was this fear that kept the fighters from getting too close to either side.

Neither Jonas nor Wolf had had much contact since their argument in the gym, but that didn't stop most people from recognizing the bad blood between the two of them, or from realizing that the last time Brow had a talented fighter under his management, that fighter was assassinated, and most people knew the story of Keal. Combined with Jonas' exploits against both Pete and Ralph, it was easy to assume some sort of conflict was soon to arise.

However, Jonas was still enjoying his newfound fame and respect, he didn't pay much attention to Wolf, at least he wouldn't pay him much attention until he was ready to fight him to the death. Out of all the things that triggered his anxiety, the thought of murdering Wolf would sometimes cause his heart to palpitate, or his thoughts to turn negative, and the stress would form beads of sweat on his furrowed brow., and

After his second fight in the arena, the next few weeks for Jonas felt like a blur. If he wasn't getting his head punched in by Ahmed, he was getting drunk with his best buds in the slave room. Occasionally, when it was time for bed, a certain guard would tap on the bars of his cage and Jonas knew he was being summoned like a call-girl. His heart would flutter, as would the butterflies in his stomach, and he would allow himself to be led toward the room that belonged to Yotama Yuki. There they would indulge themselves in fine wines, hot baths, sugary sweets, and sometimes even share personal stories. They had truly become friends.

Pride had only contacted him once since the second fight, and it was more of a congratulatory visit that was meant to be short and sweet. He warned Jonas not to slack on his training, told him to be wary of Wolf, and reminded him that new truths could be revealed once he was a more accomplished Sinner. Jonas was eager to learn more about his past, but he unintentionally felt that this was less important than becoming a top-five fighter, and perhaps the call of the arena had begun to drown out the call of his crusade.

"Do not waste your time with the admiration of sewer rats. We are long to be worshiped by much worthier crowds," perhaps Pride had realized Jonas' new distraction, for he had chided the youth the last time they had met.

Jonas always looked forward to his time in the fight pits, and although he wouldn't say that being beaten black and blue was fun, it was a necessary evil to help him grow stronger. He practiced a multitude of techniques, some more reasonable than others, and he sharpened his martial arts against the likes of Ralph and Ahmed.

It was a few weeks after his second fight that Jonas found himself smiling as he watched his two friends, Simon and Johnson. They were sparring with Ralph two against one, and although it seemed impossible for the two of them to beat the giant of a man, Jonas noticed that they were starting to hold their ground against his powerful attacks. This was a far cry from their first bouts of sparring, where Ralph would toss the two of them around like sacks of potatoes.

Ralph hadn’t improved as much as Jonas, but he had already been considered in the top ten strongest, although the first five members were considered many times more talented and stronger than the next five members. Regardless, both Jonas and Ralph were considered rising stars among the slave fighters, and with a little bit of time, both of them would be central figures in the plan to escape the gang headquarters.

Ahmed was in a class of his own, but he had hit the peak of his talent as a Sinner, and although he could further refine his technique or acquire more experience, the fact that he wasn’t going to become stronger overnight was obvious. This all came into consideration when coming up with the diabolical plan to overthrow the Hurts gang.

Jonas was the one who had gone through the most changes recently. He hadn’t gotten any taller, but he looked to have gained more weight because his body was starting to look more like an Olympic athlete and less of a malnourished slave.

His martial ability had continuously been refined, like a piece of hot metal being hammered over and over again until the impurities had been pushed out. Learning from his mistakes in his fight against Jake Davidson, Jonas had put an extreme focus on improving the quality of his footwork, as well as making sure that he was fast enough to keep up with the various speedsters of the world.

“Stop bulking up for now,” said Ahmed, who was impressed at the sheer athleticism of Jonas’ body, “Once you pass two hundred you’re going to start sacrificing speed for strength, and you don’t want to sacrifice speed,” Ahmed was also at two-hundred pounds, and had been so for many years.

“Got it, boss,” said Jonas, who didn’t like the idea of skipping a meal or two, “I’m getting to the point where I think I could make my charge into the top-five.”

“Not yet,” said Ahmed while shaking his head, “You can’t beat me, let alone Wolf.”

“I think I should try sooner than later,” argued Jonas, “I wasn’t ready for any of the opponents that I beat, but I managed to do it anyway.”

“A little bit of luck,” said Ahmed, “Mostly talent, and the fact that your instincts for Sin are just as good as a Hellite. You don’t want to go attempting to murder Wolf and fucking it all up, it would be bad for all of us,” he gave Jonas a serious look.

“Of course, I don't want to fuck it up,” said Jonas, "I feel like I’m just a few weeks away from beating Wolf, I'm almost there."

“Then wait a few weeks,” Ahmed shook his head because he knew the youngster was being too impatient. Sometimes, he thought, it was better to let youth learn from their mistakes. “You should skip lifting weights for the next couple of days, you don’t need the exercise,” Jonas felt a bit disappointed because his time in the gym was time spent away from his cage, and he hated being stuck in his cage all day.

“Fine,” Jonas mumbled, “But I’m working out at least twice a week,”

“That’s good enough to maintain your current form,” said Ahmed, “Let’s call the sparring session, I have to get some rest for my fight tomorrow."

“Good luck,” Jonas encouraged, but he knew that Ahmed didn’t need it because the desert warrior hadn’t lost a fight since he and Jonas had started training together.

“See ya tomorrow, Ralph,” Jonas waved to the big guy, and the trio of him, Johnson, and Simon began marching back to the slave room for lunch.

“Not working out today?” Ralph asked, he hadn’t been privy to Jonas’ and Ahmed’s conversation.

“Nah,” said Jonas, “Ahmed’s cut me down to a couple of workouts a week. He doesn’t want me to bulk up anymore.”

“Makes sense,” said Ralph, “I’m still going to go, I need to keep up the hard work if I ever want to be a top-five,” and he followed Ahmed out of the fighting pit. As they returned to the slave room, Jonas and his friends were locked up, and at that point, they were almost immune to the feeling of being caged away like animals. Instead of complaining, they talked animatedly about lunch.

Jonas was about to attack his second grilled rat skewer when something odd happened, a person came barging through the door to the slave room. He was out of breath, and Jonas immediately recognized him as the timid fighter that had been given the last of his stolen soap, during the shower before his first fight.

“Jonas, not good!” he heaved, “The Wolves just jumped Ralph, I don’t know if he’s going to make it!” Jonas felt his stomach somersault as he turned to face the nearest guard.

“Unlock my door, quickly!” but that small-time guard didn’t move at all, he acted as if he hadn't heard anyone at all. “The fuck are you doing?” Jonas looked at him stupidly, but after seeing the small smirk on the guard's face, Jonas realized that his cage wasn’t going to be opened by him anytime soon. There was an impending sense of dread building in his body as he crawled to his knees and tried to pry the padlock open, his fingers began to cut against the rusty bars, but he didn’t care at all.

“Jonas, it’s not going to budge,” said Johnson, his face had gone pale, but Jonas glared at him, and he immediately shut his mouth. Although Johnson hadn’t liked Ralph when they had first met, he had truly started to grow on him during their sparring sessions together.

“Fuck!” yelled Jonas as he desperately continued his attempt at breaking out of his cage. His fingers were split and bleeding from trying to pry open the lock, as was his lip from biting it so hard. The bleeding got worse, and eventually, the padlock of his cage was coated in blood, and it dripped to the floor, forming a small puddle. Jonas growled as he tried wrenching it apart with all the force he could muster, but it seemed that the iron lock remained true.

'Please,' he was desperate, 'Help me, help me, help me!' he felt like the bones of his hands were going to snap as he continued to yank at the padlock.

"Jonas, stop it, it's no use," Simon's voice choked, "There's nothing we can do," but Jonas wasn't having it, he didn't believe it. What was the point of becoming a Sinner, of risking his life every day as a slave fighter, if he couldn't even bend a single lock to his will?

'Break!' Jonas' mind was working furiously. He refused to lose anyone else, he wouldn't let Wolf take the only people he had. 'Break!' The skin of his fingers had split so bad that they were dripping blood like a leaky faucet, and he could feel the creaking of his knuckles. 'BREAK!' His eyes watered, and his Sin Scars glowed with a passionate light that hadn't yet been seen on his hands.

There was a snapping sound, and at first, the people in the room had thought it was Jonas' fingers, but as his cage door crashed open they watched his body flee the room with speed unbecoming of a human being, and they realized with dropped jaws that he had escaped. That guard who refused to open the door looked dumbfounded at the empty cage, the broken lock, and the slave door.

"Jonas, wait!" Simon was the first to come to his senses, "He's going to get himself killed," he stared daggers at the young fighter who had warned them, "You! Go get Brow and tell him what happened."

"Got it," that young fighter said, and he ran off chasing after Jonas. If Simon had spoken like that to any other fighter, he probably would've had his arm broken. However, that fighter seemed to admire Jonas.

“Wait, no, let us out too!” Johnson yelled, but that guard had come to his senses, withdrew his metal baton, and began beating their cages with it.

"Fuck off, you little slave fucks, you're not going anywhere, and your little pussy friend is going to die," the loud sound of metal on metal was echoing through the room, and it felt like it was vibrating their panicked brains. Then, that gang member went pelting after Jonas, leaving all the slaves in a rather confused state.

“Goddammit," Simon punched the wall of his cage, and his face was rather pale. “I didn’t think Wolf would make his move so soon, this isn’t good.”

“Well, fuck,” spat Johnson, “Jonas is going to get himself killed.”

“We need to have faith," Simon whispered, "Have faith that he can make another miracle happen."