Jonas Ariel knew that Yotama Yuki was out for blood because every time she threw a punch, or kicked at his head, he could tell the attacks would do real damage. Saying that they were fighting each other would be an overstatement. It was more realistic to say that Yuki was chasing Jonas like she was a predator, and he was her prey running for his life.

Not my wine collection!” she shouted, but it was too late, Jonas had already kicked it over and dozens of bottles went flying. They cascaded off the shelves, creating a waterfall of colorful liquids and broken glass as they hit the floor and burst.

“Oops,” Jonas said, while not sounding very sorry at all. His eyes were bruised like a panda's, and he had blood leaking out of most of his orifices. Yuki, on the other hand, looked completely fine as long as her messy hair or crazed expression weren't counted against her. They had been fighting for a few minutes, but true to her word, Jonas was still unable to hit her and in his frustration, he decided to take it out on her furniture.

“I swear to God, Jonas!” Yuki's bullseye-shaped Sin Scars began to violently glow as she charged at him, “You’re so dead!” Jonas smiled and blood leaked down his chin, he dodged her kick and rolled across the floor toward the table that was always full of sweets.

“Just your deserts!” he yelled, and Yuki watched in horror as he started throwing pastries. One of them splattered all over her luxurious sheets, and one lemon tart nearly took off her head as she dodged behind the lounge.

“Jonas!” She screamed in anger, but she was too stubborn to come out as she refused to take an icing bath because she hated being dirty. He threw cream horns, éclairs, French pastries, Italian sugar sweets, and also Japanese chocolates were hurled at her and every other thing in the room. Jonas threw the messy food at anything in sight, and multiple times he had almost pelted Yuki's head from her trying to peek out the lounge.

“Sorry, Yuki, let me clean the mess-up,” Yuki peaked over the edge to see he was wearing a devilish expression while heading towards her bed. “Maybe I’ll use these nice silk sheets.”

“Don’t you fucking dare!” She jumped from over the lounge and charged him down like an angry bull, but she was too slow to stop him as he jumped on the bouncy bed, grabbed one of the pillows, and threw it at Yuki. She instinctively dodged, but panicked as she turned her head and watched it land in a huge puddle of wine.

“Oops,” said Jonas, “You should have caught it!” He grabbed her other pillow and chucked it in the direction of another large puddle of booze. Yuki had steam coming out of her ears as she chased him around the room and sent as many attacks as possible, but Jonas felt cocky as he dodged, ducked, and weaved. It made his Sin Scars glow as bright as neon lights. He quickly glanced at her hands and noticed that her Sin Scars had begun to flicker, signifying that she had lost control of her Sin.

“Why are you getting so angry?” he egged her on while leaping out of the way of a knockout kick. “I just wanted to help.” Very suddenly, he sent a punch toward Yuki, who promptly twisted out of the way and sent an attack back at him. It was too slow and he dodged it. 'I'm going to hit you,' the taste of blood felt so sweet in his mouth, and he felt it calling out to his Pride. It was telling him to get revenge on her, to prove that he wasn't her punching bag.

He could see the fury in her pretty eyes, and he loved every second of the fact that she truly was trying to hurt him. He knew that they were longer friends, but at least he wouldn’t have to arrogantly hear her complain about her miserable life when she was living better than most people on the surface of Hell.

“Maybe you forgot what it’s like to live life without luxury,” said Jonas as he leaped around her room, throwing or kicking anything in his path.

“You broke my stuff!” She was seething beyond anything she had felt in years, “I risked my life for all of it, and you just destroyed it!”

“You knocked out my tooth,” said Jonas, “I needed that.” He was ready for her next attack, he knew in his heart that he could get her back.

“I’ll knock out your brains!” She tried to kick him in the head, but he saw it coming. He dodged under her foot and gave her ribs a crushing blow that sent her flying backward. She splashed into a puddle of wine and broken glass, and turning over on the spot, Jonas saw that her make-up had been ruined, her hair was drenched, and her clothing was soaked through.

“Got you!” Jonas cheered, but his expression changed when he saw the devilish look in Yuki’s eyes, they were like two dark abysses filled with murderous intent.

“Get out…” Her voice was a cold whisper.

“You’re the one who brought me here," Jonas felt goosebumps crawl across his skin, every cell of his body was telling him to shut up and leave.

“Get-the-fuck-out!” Each word enunciated rolled off her lips with the force of a dart. Jonas looked around the room and was startled at his handiwork. The once beautiful hotel-like room had been destroyed, and ruins were left in its stead.

“Fine,” said Jonas, there was a guilty tinge in his heart, “I’m gone,” he made his way toward her door while staying as far away from her as possible. He could hear her snarling behind him, so he quickly opened the door, took one last look at her, shook his head, and disappeared from view.

“What the fuck was going on in there?” The guard looked at Jonas in shock, “I thought she was killing you.”

“Tried to,” said Jonas, “I’ll walk myself back. Honestly, you might want to head in and help her clean up,” however, he couldn’t guarantee the guard wouldn’t have his head kicked off. That guard made a stupid expression, and as Jonas shrugged his shoulders and headed down the hallway, he couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for anyone who had to be stuck with that angry wildebeest.

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Jonas had his hands in his pockets as he marched down the hallway, his expression was extremely irritated. ‘What the hell was she thinking? She attacks me, knowing full well I can’t beat her, and then acts shocked when I played dirty,’ he scoffed, ‘It was dirty for her to try and fight someone weaker than herself, serves her right,’ Jonas felt his lips move as if he was arguing with her but knew that his thoughts were heard by only himself. It wasn't long before he quietly climbed into his cage, and refused to answer any questions from his two worried friends.

His mood wasn’t very good the next morning, and it didn't improve until the sparring session began and Ralph had come over while wearing a sling around one of his arms. He didn't look like a man who had been tortured the previous day, but his face was full of shock when he noticed that Jonas didn’t look like a guy who had seconds near death.

“Jonas,” he said, “I’m glad you’re okay. I heard what happened, and I just want to say, thank you. If you hadn't come, they'd probably have finished me off."

“Alive and well,” said Jonas as he smiled up at the big ginger, “I’m glad to see you’re doing okay. I came because my friend needed me, and I don't need a thank you, and I don't need to hear that you'd do the same for me. I did it because it felt like the right thing to do, in my heart.”

“You're a good man, Jonas,” said Ralph, “I don't think anyone would have done that for me, I don't even know if I would have done it for you. Either way, I owe you my life, and anything you need from me, I'll do, you only need to ask," and he stuck out his one good hand that was still swollen.

"Stop it, you're making me blush," Jonas grinned as he shook Ralph's hand, "How long till the sling comes off?"

"A week or two, I'm guessing. Not all of us have super healing, like you.”

“Very true,” said Jonas, “But not all of us have bones made of steel, like you,” Ralph smiled as he pointed at his arm.

“Not hard enough."

"Good to see you, big guy," Johnson clapped Ralph's back and glanced him up and down. "You still look like a sister-fucking hillbilly, but at least you're alive," Jonas laughed, it made him happy that Johnson had finally accepted Ralph as one of their own.

"You still look like two eight-year-olds in a trench coat, you baby-faced, mother's milk drinkin', moron," Ralph spat on the ground, and Johnson smiled broadly at the shit-talking.

"I don't disagree," said Simon, "I'm glad you're okay. I hope this puts an end to the beef between Jonas and Wolf, at least for a while."

"I don't think Wolf will make any moves, yet," Ahmed stroked his beard, "He'll wait until Thomas forces him into making a move, which will be when Jonas is as strong as a top-five fighter. Enough chit-chat, let's get sparring."

They only had four members healthy enough to fight, so Jonas paired up with Ahmed and Johnson paired with Simon. Ralph took a seat at the side and watched while wearing a slight grin. Occasionally he'd give advice, and other times he'd pound the ground with his good fist when either Simon or Johnson would get a good clean hit on one another.

The weaker two of their group exchanged attacks for nearly five minutes before Simon managed to knock Johnson's world in with a flying head kick. Soon after, Jonas and Ahmed began a cataclysmic duel that was entertaining enough to be a fight on the main card.

The two of them had sparred together so many times that it was hard for them to deal any real damage to each other. It seemed like their fights consisted more of blocks, parries, and counterattacks, rather than knock-out punches or fight-ending moves.

Their Sin Scars glowed as they picked up speed and their attacks appeared as blurs. Jonas and Ahmed stood their ground as they tried their best to capitalize on their opponent's mistakes, and Simon realized the spar between the two reminded him of a game of chess between two masters in a park; making quick moves and slapping the timer.

From their attacks, sometimes an odd jab or kick would hit the opponent, and it seemed that time was the factor that decided who was the better fighter of the two. Jonas slowly took more hits, and he found himself tiring out. Suddenly, his guard was broken as Ahmed punched through his arms, and the old warrior spun his body into a roundhouse kick aimed at his opponent's skull. However, Jonas fell backward, performed a handstand, and kicked Ahmed hard in the chin. It caused the old warrior to fly back and land on his ass.

Ralph was open-mouthed, but the other two spectators didn’t seem as shocked, because they knew better than anyone else that Jonas would occasionally get a good hit on Ahmed.

“Good hit,” said Ahmed. He cracked his neck and smiled. “I thought you slipped.”

“Oh, I did slip,” Jonas said, and he reached over to help him up. “I just thought, why the hell not?”

“It’s one thing to capitalize on your opponent's mistakes,” said Ahmed, “That’s the essence of competition. It’s a completely new game when you’re trying to capitalize on your own mistakes, that’s what separates the amateurs from the experts.”

“Thanks,” said Jonas, who was always willing to adhere to the teachings of his old friend, “I wonder if I’ll be assigned a new fight soon,” he reached over and grabbed his beer. After giving it a sip, he noticed that Ahmed was wearing a disapproving expression. "I won the bet, I'll drink the beer when I want," he said with a playful expression while sticking his tongue out.

“You've just recovered,” Ahmed rolled his eyes, “I think you should wait at least a week or two before your next fight.”

“I want the experience,” said Jonas, “I need to fight all kinds of Sinners before I’m going to be able to put my life on the line in a serious duel against guys like Howard, or Wolf.”

“Diversity is good,” Ahmed agreed, “Fighting me all the time isn’t going to help you improve, but you need to stop relying on your healing all the time. Overdrawing your power is a sure way to lose yourself in Sin.”

“That’s the thing,” said Jonas, “I think I need to rely on it more.”

“I’m not understanding,” Ahmed looked worried, and his voice had grown quiet, “Didn’t I tell you how dangerous it is to abuse Sin?”

“The thing is,” said Jonas, “I feel like my situation doesn’t count.”

“Go on,” said Ahmed.

"I'm not like normal people. I don't mean to brag, but my talent is far out, and I can do things that other people aren't capable of doing. Whether that means I'm always using my powers or coming back from near-death experiences."

“Oh, looks like I was worried about nothing,” Ahmed didn't usually use sarcasm, “Jonas, do you think exploiting a power you don’t understand is a good idea?”

“Well,” said Jonas, he was finding it hard to explain that he was probably a Hellite whose power was sealed by some strange deity. “How do you know it’s a bad idea?”

“I don’t,” said Ahmed, “I’ve just seen way too many people get corrupted by Sin.”

“Yeah, but how many of those people were huge assholes?”

“All of them,” Ahmed conceded, “Just be careful and listen to your instincts.”

“Even if they tell me everything's okay," Jonas thought of Pride.

“I guess, even then,” Ahmed conceded, but he didn't look happy about it.

“Don’t worry so much,” Jonas gave a warm smile, “The only thing that will ever change me, is me.”