It was strange how normal life as a slave felt. The routine Jonas found himself in was almost enjoyable, and his newfound love for fighting and Sinning had made all the trouble he had gone through worth it. That wasn’t to say that Jonas wanted to remain a slave, or that he didn’t hold a grudge against the Hurts gang, he just felt that without being sold into slavery, he would still be scouring Sun City in search of what Sin even was.
Not only was he an amateur Sinner, but he had made a new best friend, had learned enough martial arts to protect himself in the Overworld, and he had a newfound understanding of himself, and his mysterious past. Jonas knew that one day he would escape the Hurts gang, and that goal required him to surpass a tremendous mountain, as he needed to fulfill his bet with Ahmed. The morning of the bet was intense, but the prospect of eating food had nearly taken up all of Jonas’ focus.
“Grub time,” said a gloomy voice as the low-level gang members began bringing trays of food to all the slaves.
“Just on time,” Jonas said delightfully, “I’m starving.”
“No,” Simon shook his head disapprovingly, “I’m starving, you’re just hungry,” and Jonas chuckled as he gracefully accepted a bowl of cold porridge from Simon and added it to his small collection of food that sat in front of him.
“Are you nervous?” Simon asked nonchalantly, his voice was a bit odd and it told Jonas that no matter how he was feeling, Simon was nervous for him.
“After today,” said Jonas as he shoveled porridge into his mouth with his dull wooden spork, “You’ll never miss a meal again.”
“I look forward to it,” Simon smiled, “I’ve been thinking about it lately, and maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to become a fighter,” and Jonas looked at his friend with surprise.
“I thought you weren't interested in the life of a Sinner?”
“I wasn’t,” Simon admitted, “I just think that being able to protect yourself, and having the physical means to make a living, well, it might be a good skill to have once we make it back above ground.”
“I agree, and once I establish myself as a fighter, I’ll make sure I help you discover your Cardinal Sin, and I’ll share all my resources with you,” Simon felt touched, and there was a glimmer of desire in his eyes that hadn’t been there for a very long time.
“You don’t need to be nervous, I’m going to win this bet. I’m not the same person I was when I first got here. I know it hasn’t been long but I can see things a bit differently now. I’m not meant to be down here living as a slave, but I think I was supposed to come here, to meet you, and Ahmed, and to learn what I’ve learned.”
“I know,” Simon nodded his head, “Finish your porridge and get ready for the fight. This might shock you, but I care about your well-being. You can save the grand speeches for after you win.”
“That does shock me,” Jonas leaned back against his cage and began crunching on his two apples, one in each hand, “The only person that ever really gave a shit about me is my brother and he’s kind of an asshole. You’re not really like a brother though, more like a cool uncle who will sneak you beers.”
“Fuck, I’m not that old,” said Simon indignantly, “I died a few months after my thirty-fourth birthday.”
“How old was your kid?”
“Thirteen,” he said quietly, “She was just getting ready to start high school,” and Jonas didn’t have much to say, because he knew how much Simon missed his daughter.
“I think the fifth floor is probably cooler than high school, right?” Jonas asked rhetorically, “Pearly gates, only nice people, and your teachers are literal Angels, I mean nothing could beat that.”
“I know,” said Simon calmly, “I just wish I could have gotten to know her better; I wasn’t always the best dad.”
“No point in beating yourself up over it,” said Jonas, “You’re already dead, so there isn’t anything left to regret.”
“That’s a good point,” said Simon, “I still worry about my wife though, we didn’t come to Hell together, so I have no idea what floor she was even sent to.”
“She should be on the first floor,” said Jonas, “If she started the house fire and killed both you and your daughter in a psychotic break, I’m assuming they won’t hold her accountable.”
“You’re probably right,” said Simon who had come to that same conclusion on his own, “Hey, would you do me a favor, lad?”
“Lad?” said Jonas with a strange expression on his face, “Why are you so formal all of a sudden? Weren’t you just taking a shit in front of me like ten minutes ago?”
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“Just hear me out,” said Simon, and Jonas could tell that he was being serious.
“Alright, but you already know I’ll agree.”
“You’re going to take the Hell Challenge right?” Simon asked, and Jonas instantly knew what the favor was going to be.
“Yeah,” he said, “Once I fully unlock my Sin Scars I’m going to go take the test to become a Sinner.”
“I don’t know where my wife is and I’ll probably never see her again…” he trailed off as he fought his ego and tried his best to force the words out of his mouth, “With that said, If you ever end up visiting the fifth floor would you mind taking a quick peek for my daughter, just to check up on her?” and for the first time since they had met, Jonas saw Simon have a look of both fear and desperation on his face.
“Obviously,” said Jonas, “But why don’t you come with me and check on her yourself?” and Simon gave him an extremely heavy look.
“Even if I awaken my Cardinal Sin and learn a bit about how to Sin, I’ll never pass any Sin assessment, or have the skill to take the Hell Challenge. That kind of thing is meant for those talented youths like yourself.”
“Come on,” said Jonas, “You just need to figure out what your Cardinal Sin is, you don’t even know if you have a talent for it or not.”
“Probably Sloth,” said Simon, “It matches my personality more, all talk and no action.”
“Not true at all,” said Jonas, “You’ve been starving yourself for a week just so you could help me.”
“I like the punishment,” Jonas could tell that Simon wasn’t joking, “I like the pain of starvation, I feel like I deserve it.”
“Punishment for what?” Jonas asked sarcastically, “For being a good friend, or for unwillingly being murdered by your wife?”
“For not being a good man,” he added, “I know you’ll disagree, but you didn’t know me in my past life, I was extremely careless, and I regret all the times I didn’t pay attention to my wife’s mental health.”
“It’s not your fault that she went bonkers,” said Jonas, “Postpartum is a mental illness, it’s random and no one can help it.”
“Mental illnesses might be random, but they can be prevented. I could have saved my wife if I had taken her more seriously and if I had done so, I’d be alive right now and my daughter would be starting high school,” Jonas felt sad for Simon, but he also felt like his friend was beating himself up for no reason.
“Well,” said Jonas, “This might not mean much coming from a substance-abusing eighteen-year-old slave with abandonment issues,” he added sincerely, “I don’t think any of that is your fault because sometimes fate just toys with us and we get put into circumstances that we never really had any control over,” and as he spoke he thought about his circumstances, “Even if it felt like we were in control the entire time.”
Thirty minutes ticked by and Brow finally made his entrance into the slave room. He approached Jonas’ cage while looking rather nervous, and after fumbling with his keys for a moment, unlocked it.
“Don’t fucking lose,” Brow growled once more while his eagle eyes glared menacingly into Jonas’. In response, the young man stepped outside of his iron cage and gave a slight yawn that was extremely provoking.
“Just make sure you have some good food prepared for your new fighter,” Jonas said and he began marching towards the exit of the prison room. Simon couldn’t help but shake his head disapprovingly, he wouldn’t dare get caught talking to Brow like that. Inside the sparring room, most of the gang’s lower-ranked fighters were already in their pits, ready to beat their slaves.
Jonas locked eyes with Ahmed as he came into the room, and he couldn’t help but notice that there was a look of intensity that he had not noticed before, ‘He must be taking this seriously,’ and Jonas couldn’t help but wonder how much effort he would have to expend to leave with a victory.
As he reached the edge of the arena he started by sliding his old sneakers off and kicking them to the side, allowing his bare feet to sink into the old chunky sand that was full of blood and bits of bone.
His tan hands reached down towards the bottom of his shirt and he slowly slid it off, flinging it to the side, and revealing his muscularity to the rest of the room. If someone had paid attention to Jonas’ size when he first arrived they would be quite shocked to see the difference a week or so later, especially considering how pitiful the meal portions were.
Jonas pushed his fingers through his golden hair and swept his bangs back, his eyes had an unusual amount of concentration in them, and even Ahmed could tell that the young jokester was not planning on losing his left hand.
“Today we fulfill the obligations of our little bet,” Ahmed said, “If you can throw me outside the confines of this fight pit, you’ll win the bet and as a reward, I’ll bring you a beer every day,” and he paused for a moment as he examined Jonas’ expression, “However if you fail, I’ll cut off your left hand and leave it here in the sandy pit to lay among the other useless body parts that fell off useless slaves.”
“No matter how many times you say it,” Jonas began, “It’s not a fair bet, but no matter, let’s just get this over with,” and he took a large step towards Ahmed, officially beginning their spar. Simon stood nervously at the edge of the fight pit as he watched eagerly, wondering if his sacrifice had been made in vain or not.
Brow also stood next to him watching to see if he would finally have a new fighter that he could invest his resources in, allowing him to once again reclaim his fallen authority in the Hurts gang. His eyes darted back and forth between the two fighters, and even with his vast experience, he was unsure of what to expect.
Finally, one other person was also keeping an eye on the battle, Garth. Although his motive was often unclear, in his case he wondered whether or not he should have properly killed Jonas instead of just maiming him till near death. There was a sense of unease in his heart when he looked at the glowing Sin Scars on the back of Jonas’ hands.
Who could have possibly known that the little spar between an old goat herder and a teenage troublemaker, could have possibly been such a turning point that affected the lives of so many down in Little Wrath City?
Jonas made the first move as he began slowly stepping towards Ahmed, who stood his ground firmly like an unmovable object. Looking at his position, it appeared as if he didn’t have a single opening and yet Jonas continued forward as if that didn’t bother him at all.