The other events that were taking place around the city weren’t too far a ride away, but all of them were nearly coming to an end. The night was growing old, and the chaos that had gripped the streets was reaching its peak. This didn’t matter to Wolf and his group, though. If anything, the timing was a big plus for them because it meant there would just be more money for them in the end. They had already collected what they needed from the guests at the previous locations, and their bags were heavy with the spoils of the night.
There were just a few thoughts that were on Wolf’s mind to do with all of this as they rode toward the next target. He didn’t know if his Vow was making him think more than he usually would, but he was beginning to see things or questioning things a little more clearly than before. His mind was dissecting the bigger picture behind the violence.
How long have the Black Hounds been running these underground fighting rings? Wolf thought, his eyes scanning the dark alleys they passed. Sure, they might have started small at the beginning, only a couple of venues here and there to test the waters. And not all guests are going to be big spenders; some just come for the blood. But even so, over the years, they would have had to have racked up quite the large amount of money.
Yet, where did all that money go? The Black Hounds have a lot of members, but it doesn’t seem like the wealth is going to them. Most of them still live like street thugs. Is it all going to the syndicate above them in order to keep the higher-ups happy? That’s where all of Chad’s money went that he lost, right? Directly to the syndicate. It makes me think what they would be using those massive amounts of money on as well.
Wolf pushed the thought aside as the group reached their destination. They charged into their next venue, weapons drawn and ready to make some chaos.
Out of all the possible venues, there were some that Wolf and his group had decided not to go to. There was a good reason for this: there was already a job being done at those locations by people they trusted. This was where Sheri, Na, as well as Aron were currently present.
Na had been taking part in the fights so far, and he had done exceptionally well, proving his strength and making it all the way to the final round. However, what no one had expected, not even the members of the Black Hounds, was that there would be a member of the Gilt Rats present. Not just a scout, but one that was relatively high-ranking: the member known as Evon.
Evon had taken over the whole venue by force and was currently in charge of the situation. The moment Aron had taken a step in to help Na out, Evon’s true colors were revealed. He made his intentions clear, ordering all of the members of the Black Hounds to block the exits and make sure not a single person could leave the building.
As far as Evon was concerned, today he would be taking all of the proceeds from the bets, as well as an extra "donation" from the Black Hounds’ event to support the Gilt Rats even further in their development. He was treating the entire underground ring like his personal bank.
Yet, there was one more thing fueling the tension while Aron and Evon had their small scuffle with each other. There was a specific reason Aron had stepped up to the plate so readily. He had been noticing Evon’s fighting techniques from the sidelines. They were familiar, strikingly similar to what the Black Hand had taught him when he was young, back during his days as a war orphan.
Aron had made the declaration right to Evon’s face: he could feel the fighting style was similar because he was from the same group as Evon’s own teacher.
"You think that’s meant to scare me?" Evon said with a sneer. He stretched out his hand above his head and flexed his fingers one by one. He was making sure the mechanical Exoskeleton attached to his limbs was working in perfect condition, the gears whirring softly.
Then, he placed his fists right in front of him in a solid guard.
"You think the fact that you know my teacher is going to scare me?" Evon repeated, his voice dripping with arrogance. "When right now, I have even surpassed my teacher in every way!"
Evon didn’t wait for a reply. He charged in, looking to strike with his powerful, metal-reinforced fists. Aron made sure to keep a sharp eye on the trajectory of the blows. As he dodged the first few swings, he reached out and knocked them slightly to the side with his batons.
He was only tapping them, but Aron could tell immediately that the man’s arms weren’t moving an inch from the impact. It was as if he was hitting a piece of reinforced metal cladding. The Exoskeleton was absorbing all the vibration.
As the hits were coming in, Aron realized that traps were being set up with every movement. He decided to stop playing defensively and go for it.
Evon saw what he thought was a perfect opening and twisted his body perfectly to hit Aron right in the face with a heavy hook. But Aron was faster. He slipped the punch, and instead of a fist hitting his jaw, the back of Aron’s baton was slammed into Evon’s face.
The crack of the impact echoed through the ring. Quickly, Aron continued to strike with both of the batons in his hands. He swung them in a rhythmic blur, avoiding Evon’s clumsy counter-strikes and hitting the man primarily in the neck, where the Exoskeleton provided the least protection.
After Evon had been hit three times hard in the side of the neck, his vision began to swim. He lifted his heavy hands to protect his throat, leaving his midsection exposed. That’s when Aron shoved the tip of the baton forward and twisted it right into Evon’s stomach.
A searing amount of pain went through the entirety of Evon’s body, causing his legs to buckle.
How is this possible? Evon thought, his breath hitching. Even with the exoskeleton boosting my strength... it feels like I can’t do anything against him!
Aron looked down at him, holding the batons up again in a ready stance, prepared to go in for the finish.
"Your teacher needs to reteach you," Aron claimed, his voice cold. "The fact that you know what group I am a part of, and the fact that you aren’t scared, means he didn’t teach you well enough. You don’t even know who you’re standing against."