Jack immediately swung his fists out towards the man, no Vat-Born, no, Rudolph. Rudolph dodged and moved back several feet quickly.

Jack got up wincing as he felt the bruises Rudolph had just inflicted on him.

"Looks like you have some decent fighting skills," Rudolph said as he planted his feet firmly into the group and tucked his right arm back. While shifting his arm into a blocking stance.

"But your just another Birthed."

Jack dodged out as Rudolph swung his fist towards him. The crimson strike passing by his face with only a hair's breadth between them.

Jack kicked Rudolph in the knees, forcing the man to drop suddenly. Rudolph grunted as his left hand switched from blocking to swing towards Jack's face. Uppercutting the man with a brutal strike.

Jack was sent flying.

Crashing into a sink almost fifteen feet away. Blood spilled out of Jack's mouth like a river, spilling on the group and dying it a crimson hue.

Jack felt his bone's creak and muscles groan as he slowly got back up. Falling onto his knees when he managed to get out of the wreckage. Rudolph smiled as he slowly made his way to Jack, stopping several feet away from the man to make sure he didn't pull anything.

"A Birthed sure got a lot of nerve coming to this part of the city. You're either brave or stupid."

"Why not both?" Jack asked as he slowly got up, leaning on a nearby chair for support.

"Because people like that don't last a week in this city."

Rudolph grunted as he shifted into a combat stance. Keeping his breathing even as he fists readied themselves. Jack shifted his footing, putting them into a vague combat stance he had learned from Babina. She had always been the more martial of the two.

Jack looked at Rudolph.

Aside from his Christmas themed appearance, he noticed a vague pattern on his skin, curving elegantly this way and that. Forming into a hundred dances of red snowflakes, he couldn't see anymore, but the image itself told Jack that this wasn't some random Vat-Born who had assaulted him. This guy was of high quality.

"Would you stop eyeing me like a slab of meat?" Rudolph said with a chuckle.

"Just seeing that your pretty Christmas themed all the way. Was the guy who made you a fan or something?"

"You could say that."

Both men stared at each other for several minutes. While in novels and movies it was seen as tense and epic Jack just saw it as boring and awkward. It's hard not to feel that way when both men who were currently beating the shit out of each other decide to take a break.

Jack would also politely ignore the fact that all of the blood that had been spilled currently had been inside him at one point.

Truly, they had both beaten the shit out of each other.

Jack moved first, pulling out a pistol that he had taken from their hideout in the Nice and Dandy. Rudolph immediately jumped to the side as Jack fired his first shot on the job at him.

The bullet lodged itself into the wall of the room they were in, causing cracks to appear on the wall. Jack didn't have time to notice anything further when Rudolph struck a brutal fist to the head.

Jack was sent flying.

Crashing into a wall with a resonant thud, the blow shook Jack's bone with a tremendous force. His bones shaking violently within, each second that went by Jack felt his bones rumble, trim, and quake with powerful energy.

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What was this?

This wasn't normal?!

"Guess you noticed what your bones have been doing right now?" Rudolph asked as he watched Jack's body shake and quiver and joint, his flesh underneath wiggling and waggling slightly. Showing him that something that wasn't normal had been surging through Jack.

"What the hell did you do to me?!" Jack shouted his voice reverberating through the entire room with anguish and fury.

Having your bones, shake, rattle, and dance beyond your control was not pleasant or nice.

"Should be obvious giving my appearance, now shouldn't it?"

"Wait, are you telling me Santa's doing this!?" Jack yelled.

"What, no. The fuck did you pull that from?" Rudolph asked.

"Your appearance," Jack said.

"That's racist."

Rudolph then smashed his foot right into Jack's face, the bones in Jack's nose crunched as he was sent flying into the wall he had just pulled himself out of.

The strike causing Jack to see little black sheep dancing and flying around the room with happiness and contentment.

Rudolph smiled as he pulled out a small mechanical contraption, the piece was about the size of a normal Birthed hand. It had several crimson dots plastered around it, with a microphone on the top of the device which beat several times a minute when activated.

A small black rod made of iron pointed out of the bottom of the device. Which seemed charged with some electricity.

"You all good there?" A voice said. Coming out of the device, it was static and messy, with the a's sounding like they came from a disabled bettle. These things were new, Rudolph guessed. So they still had some improvements to work on.

"Yeah, I'm good."

"Great. We just finished with that kid here at the safehouse. We wanted to know when you'd be back when you checked out the alarm."

"Just finished up here, guy didn't even prepare to fight a Vat-Born. Didn't have any Augments on him."

"Okay, take him out and meet back at base."

"Got it, hey did you want me to bring some p-"

A bullet smashed into Rudolph's hands, the shot tearing through his fingers with ease as they ripped apart the device with brutal efficiency.

Rudolph turned around, his eyes widening as a second shot smashed into his shoulder. The round sending him back a couple of feet.

Jack grimaced as he felt the bones in his hand's wiggle and rattle with increased wiggliness. The recoil of the gun had left his left hand pretty much useless for the rest of this fight. But he figured he could still get a third shot in.

Sadly that fantasy hit the dust when a crimson spade shot outward of Rudolph, slicing apart the gun jack had been carrying with him. Jack reacted fast.

Throwing himself out of the way as the spade sliced through the area where he had just been. Tearing apart the wall behind him with a furious rage.

Jack watched as the tail quickly shortened back to Rudolph. Blood leaked out of the man's shoulder. Finally adding some new blood to the fight scene in a quite literal sense. His fingers were ripped apart. With some useful pieces of his device now stuck inside the man.

Rudolph grunted as he tore apart his fingers. Ripping off any chunk of flesh that had been struck by the shrapnel.

"Looks like I underestimated you."

"Yeah you did," Jack said as he readied himself into a basic combat stance.

"You have several minutes to surrender before I beat the living fuck out of you."

"Trying to stay confidant, boy?" Rudolph laughed as he slowly readied himself into the same stance.

"You were hit by me several times without the stupid mask on. No way in hell you're fine after the beating I gave your stupid ass without your Augment. I'm guessing you have several minutes left before collapsing."

Rudolph didn't see what reaction Jack had. But a grimace would fit it perfectly. Jack had slipped on the mask when Rudolph had been talking to his partner. He had immediately felt power well up inside him when he put it on which was new. he hadn't felt that way when he first put it on. So maybe he needed to be hurt or something? Anyway, it looked like Nate had gotten away.

If he survived this Babina would have his head.

"So you have two options, either die peacefully by me crushing your skull. Or die painfully as I tear your ribs out."

Jack sighed as he heard the words. Either way, he was going to die. Babina would have his head if she found out. And Rudolph would probably murder him before he got to tell her.

So with a big breath. Jack ran forward. And then jumped out the window.

Man Fita. Fake Hand translated from Italian. Originally made as a way for Gladiators in First Rome to hold weapons. Man Fita was made to be able to switch your main hand. The idea behind it was that the more fighting you did, the more damage your dominant hand would go through. Usually leaving it heavily broken or torn apart. The fighting stance was designed to have the damage to be diverted to your less dominant hand. Such a technique was brutal, but many soldiers would rather have their less dominant hand they barely used for anything to be cut off than their actual dominant hand. Due to what the fighting style did it was called Man Fita, translated into English as Fake Hand. The fighting style would slowly die out as the centuries passed and new forms of war were perfected and used. It was only due to the Great War, and the infamous Roman 154 Assualt Legion, and the German 766 Trench Legion. Known as Dita Rotte and Eisendolche, translated to Broken Finger and Iron Dagger. That the fighting style would regain popularity.

- History of European Martial Arts by John Robert II