"Fine," I said begrudgingly. "But if I am going to be putting my life on the line, I might as well get my money's worth. I need Donnie's services. We can talk about the fight when I'm done."

"And how can I be certain you won't try to run?" Green skin narrowed his eyes.

"Leave your bodyguards behind," I shrugged. "Between all six of them, I'm sure they will manage somehow."

Toad laughed and nodded to the buff, bald guy. He and the rest of his boys surrounded me. "Take his guns and escort him to the club at 9 pm."

"9 pm? That's not nearly as much time as I need to—"

"For once in your life, shut up, Donnie."

"I look forward to seeing you fight," Toad said and left out the back door.

As soon as he left, the buff dude walked up to me with his palms outstretched, an eager look on his face. It was as if he was begging me to resist so that he'd have some excuse to brutalize me, not that he could, but I wasn't going to rise to the bait.

I offered up Ebony and Ivory without much fuss, and he inspected them each for a long time. "What is trash like you doing with guns these exquisite?" he demanded.

I shrugged. "Right place, right time."

"They're mine now," he said, sliding them into two pistol holsters by his side. I thought it odd that he had a holsters waiting and ready to go. He saw my lingering stare.

"Is that going to be a problem?"

"No gun is worth dying over," I answered nonchalantly, letting the guns go for now. I could've refused him and fought back, but Donnie needed to work, and I could always get my shit back.

Then, I turned to Donnie and helped him to his feet. "Oh, thank God, Dante. I thought I was a goner."

"Oh, I wouldn't start celebrating if I was you. I want a passport, driver's license, credit, the whole works. And it better be the best work of your goddamn life. If I am going to be putting my bacon on the line for you, you're not cutting any corners."

"Okay, okay," he raised his hand in surrender. "You got it. I've been saving an identity for a premium client, but I suppose you deserve it for saving my bacon." He strolled into the back, and I followed after him into a reinforced backroom where he had multiple monitors set up, a full picture studio, a printing press, and a few other machines I did not quite recognize.

The soldiers strolled in after us, scanning the room. Donnie hopped onto his computer and started typing away.

"I deserve a whole lot more than your best. You're going to pay me back the difference?"

"Oh, come on, Dante. The old you wouldn't have minded bashing a few skulls in."

"Well, the new me understands the value of anonymity and money."

"Keep it down, both of you," Baldie barked. "If he can talk, then he's clearly not working hard enough. I want us out of here before nightfall."

Old Dante or Axel would've found the mouthy guard offensive, but I had bigger priorities. I allowed Donnie to toil in silence and waited for my time. He paused to take my photo and took brief breaks to update me.

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"You're Peter Jason Quill now."

My eyes went a bit wide. Fucking Star Lord!

"Hey, don't look at me like that. I don't get to choose the name; I just make do with what I've got. The identity is perfect. Disappeared a while back, should be in his twenties, kind of around the same age as you. I've been nurturing it since I discovered it way back in the 90s. He's got a high school diploma, credit cards, and everything," Donnie grinned.

"That's a lot of dedication, Donnie," I said, not quite believing the fucking coincidence. With my luck, the asshole would probably show up at some point and lay into me for stealing his name.

Donnie grinned. "Why, thank you. It feels great to be appreciated."

"How much longer now?"

"Not long," Donnie folded his arm, leaning back into his ergonomic chair. "Everything is about ready for print."

"Fucking Awesome. Step to it, double time!" I said with a wide grin, earning a disgruntled look from Baldie. He sauntered over, cracking his oversized knuckles. "Didn't I tell you to—"

The kick to the nuts caught him entirely by surprise. The five other mooks moved, but it was already too late. Two Orochi blades flickered out, nailing the two closest suckers to me in the forearm and chest, turning them to wriggling messes while my other hand materialized a pistol. I dropped two guys before the third one wizened up and dodged, ducking behind an old printer in the far corner of the room.

The two others, still reeling from the dagger throws, were barely on their feet.

Dragon's breath. That's some nasty stuff. I pulled the trigger twice, ending the paralyzed pair.

Another bullet went into the skull of Baldie, who was trying to claw his way up to his feet.

That left the last guy.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," I said as I slowly circled to cut him off. Beside me, Donnie had gone white and scampered under his desk when the first gun went off.

I grabbed a stapler idly by his desk and chucked it beside the printer. The last shooter swung up, shooting like I predicted he would. Before he could realize that he'd been played, I fired two shots into his chest.

"This killing thing is not half-bad when you know what you're doing," I smiled in satisfaction as I stole back my guns for the second time that week. I also got back the Fingers of Orochi.

"I got to put a leash on you or something."

I also stole Baldie's dessert Eagle, which I hated to admit had better damage than both Ebony and Ivory at the moment. But my babies had room for growth.

While I was looting, I also came across two grenades and a flashbang.

They were not-so-subtle reality checks that reminded me all it took was one competent fighter, and I'd be done for.

Not one to waste money, I stole the 5 grand they were carrying between them.

Whistling, I idly thought that the fight club must pay very well. The entire exchange also earned me 12 more red orbs, bringing my count up to 42.

A few more bouts of mass murder, and I could buy my second weapon. I was split between Ophion and Arbiter. The latter was a metal-as-fuck Axe that detonated with demon energy each time you swung it. Given my luck since I'd arrived in this world, It'd be nice to have that kind of Fuck-you power in my back pocket.

Ophion was more of a traversal and a strategic battlefield weapon. Useful in all sorts of situations. I could imagine the look on a mook's face when I suddenly yanked his body in for an uppercut.

Honestly, I was leaning either way.

My attention swept back to Donnie, and I noticed he was shaking. He flinched when I made eye contact.

"Please don't kill me," Donnie begged immediately. He might be a coward, but at least he was smart.

"Just get me what I want, and you'll be fine."

He looked conflicted. "How can I be sure that you won't…"

"Lead you into a trap that forced you to murder six people in cold blood and make your life far more complicated by drawing the attention of the very people you've made it a point to avoid?" I said with a steely stare. "Don't test me, Donnie. Do as you're told. Besides, you're far more valuable to me, alive."

"I really didn't mean to…" he started but stopped, then sighed and went back to work. Thankfully, he didn't push me by trying to draw things out. I had a driver's license, social security number, passport, and credit information.

Satisfied, I smiled before tucking away the new papers into my jacket pocket. I made to leave, with a fidgeting Donnie behind me, before I suddenly swung around.

"One last thing. What can you tell me about those fighting pits Green Face was talking about?"

Donnie rapidly blinked before he started answering. "Uh…right. They pit superpowered people, mercenaries, martial artists, and just about everyone they can find against each other and stream it live. People make bets on it, and you can probably figure out the rest."

"Huh," I rubbed my chin in thought. "Who are the fan favorites right now?"

"You still want to fight?" Donnie asked.

"Maybe. It pays to know your options."

"What about me?" Donnie gulped. "What are my options?"

I raised a brow. He certainly got balls.

"Tell me what I need to know or die," I shrugged. "Simple as that."