“Well, well…what have we here?” The dark hair of the lanky, yet built, man covered his face somewhat as he leaned forward. The young woman he had as his assistant looked a bit surprised as she looked at the person who sat in the biggest chair in the building. “Uh, s…sir? What do you mean?” The man stood up and chuckled to himself. “After all the time and effort I put into this damn tournament…and some little shitsqueak decides to pop in a fuck it all up. I guess I have to get down there. Amala!” He snapped his head to look at her. “Work with security. Get everyone out of the building. I’ll take care of him.”

She nodded as the five foot ten man walked closer to the window. Whoever this asshole was, he would easily be able to see the man in the box seat far above the seats before him. Dressed in a type of suit, for once, the pirate was decked out in a white shirt and black blazer, along with his usual black pants and combat boots. Emblazoned on the jacket’s right chest pocket was an embroidery of golden thread to make out the initials G.M. Lastly was the small pouch that rested on his back, at the waist attached to his belt. Suddenly, the window broke and pieces of glass fell into the crowd that had begun to rush out beforehand anyway. One with the eyes to notice the movement would have seen the mystery benefactor’s arm sling as though he had thrown something, which could explain the glass.

But when he suddenly appeared next to the ring, with his eyes locked on the man in the middle, it could be seen that things were serious. “Ok then, shit stain. You wanna come in here and fuck up my tournament? Then I’ll be your opponent. Do you know how much money I had to put into this little shindig? Trust me when I say you probably couldn’t even match it if you had won the jackpot at Caesar’s Palace.” He jumped suddenly and easily cleared the ropes to land before the slightly shorter man in the ring. “So, tough guy…The name is Gren Meliden. Don't care if you care or not. Why don’t you tell me what the fuck you want before you get thrown through a wall? Or should I just get to the bashin', eh?”