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Location: An empty parking garage in Palegreen City

Three days had passed since the dinner meeting and Ethan had yet to make a decision; he hadn't even called Kaya for a chat. As a matter of fact, he hadn't even brought it up with Eli, even though he was 90 percent certain the boy would say yes to it. He was in no rush, even though there was every reason to rush. For now, he set up a fight for Eli with someone else, a 2 star bounty so it was lower stakes.

From the sidelines, he stood next to a bunch of people in suits, while also wearing his own, happy to continue wearing it after the dinner meeting. He enjoyed watching Eli fight, this was his second one since joining Primal. He dodged punches, kept light on his feet, and retaliated with attacks of his own. It even looked like he could move even better on a hard surface like concrete.

His opponent, a muscular goat, just a few inches taller than Eli, went by the name of Umo. A world renown MMA fighter, who had dominated the scene before he joined Primal. It was shocking, really, that someone could go above and beyond what was thought possible, and be a champion in their own sport, only to be just average when compared to everyone else in Primal.

Fighter

Umo "Ace of the State" Turner

Umo threw a few punches at Eli. He kept up a good pace, very good form, if not for Eli's small frame, those punches would've landed. He did get a good few sits in, but now it looks like Eli had learned his pattern and his habits. The fight was over, Umo just didn't realize it yet. All that was left to do was for Eli to end it, nice and quick like.

Umo took a few steps away from Eli. There it was, he was getting ready for a strong headbutt, one that Eli had been struck by earlier with devastating consequences. But now, Eli could predict it. Eli counted down in his head, the time it would take for Umo to be at the perfect range; sure, there was a bit of margin for error, but those didn't cross his mind.

Umo dashed forward, going for a powerful headbutt, powerful horn aimed towards their target's chest. Eli answered the attack with a swift leg sweep, slamming his foot into the goat's ankles, knocking him right off his feet and onto the ground. Lying on his back, the worst possible place you could be in a fight, Umo was completely vulnerable.

"Sorry, bro," Eli apologized, before striking Umo into the chest with a downwards punch. Much too quick and strong to block or roll out of the way, the goat took the full impact of the punch, his hands rising up, then falling.

IT'S A KNOCKOUT!

The audience, other than those rooting for Umo, clapped. Although Umo's Handler, sitting on the opposite end of the arena from Ethan, couldn't help but commend Eli's skill and strength at his age; he still wasn't happy with the results of the fight though. At least there was a consolation prize waiting for him.

A group of medical professionals ran up to Umo's unconscious body, going to check up on him. One of them inspected Eli, making sure he wasn't too hurt. Bruised, scratched, but nothing that would require one of VAV's regenerators. Doctor's conclusions: No fighting for a few days, eat plenty of protein rich foods, and get plenty of rest.

"Great work, Eli," Ethan walked up to Eli, "Never doubted you for a second. Er... Not that I have ever doubted you in the past."

"Mmhm," Eli grinned, "That guy was pretty great. I wish I had horns so I could headbutt like him." He said, jerking his head forward slightly. "There are those one prosthetic ones, you'd buy one of those if I asked, right?"

"How about I answer that before you ask: I'm not buying you prosthetic horns," Ethan groaned. "Let's head on home, I want to take a nap." It was early in the morning, earlier than what even Ethan was use to getting up at; Primal's fights were either held at the earliest or the latest of hours, no in between; well, there were, exceptions to this, albeit rarely.

It was probably about time to talk about the tag team, he would have to ease into it. Mention that he'll be fighting a serial killer later. At least wait until Brook was with them. "Hey, Ethan, I know you just had a fight, but I have another one that you might be interested in. It's what me and Brook talked about at that meeting the other day."

"Never feel sorry for setting fights up for me." Eli smiled, as the two walked down the street. "Who am I gonna be fighting?"

"Well, first things first, let's not rush here. But the thing is, they want it to be more than just a regular fight, I talked with some fellow Handlers, and they are wondering if you'd be interested in a 2 vs 1."

"2 on 1, huh?" Eli nodded, "Do you mean I fight two people or me and someone else fights one person?"

"The second one." Ethan held up two fingers.

"Hell yeah!" Eli cheered, "I already know the person I want to do it with. My new friend Pocketknife."

"That was pretty easy, glad you're easy to work with." Ethan sighed in relief. He remembered Eli staying at Pocketknife's. "Want to call up Pocketknife and tell him to come over here?"

"Oh, don't have to do that. Pocketknife is already on his way to the apartment. Should be there right now."

Ethan stopped in place, caught off guard that yet another weird fighter from Primal, one he had only heard the name of so far, was now at his house. "...Pardon?"

---

Location: Motel Old College Try

Pocketknife stood right in the parking lot of the motel, dressed in his signature purple jacket. Several cigarette butts lied at his feet, his hands were in his pockets, his eyes were glazed over, and one last cigarette hung loosely from his mouth. So this was the location Eli gave to him. Looked pretty nice. Not as good as his house, but he didn't exactly live in luxury either. He sniffed the stale air; place didn't smell as bad as it looked. But, what was this now? There was someone coming out of one of the rooms, she had been watching him from the window. A hyena. Despite her messy appearance, she was pretty hot, too bad she wasn't his type: His type was men!

That hyena was, of course, none other than Brook, who had made it to the bottom of the stairs and across the parking lot, now face to face with Pocketknife. "Uh, you okay?"

"Yeah, why?" Pocketknife looked up at her, no longer slumping his neck over.

"Well, you've been standing there for a good few minutes and you've probably smoked a whole pack." She looked up at the morning sky, it was quite warm for the time of day. "Plus, uh, you look pretty dehydrated, you might want to drink something. Preferably water."

"You my mom?" Pocketknife scoffed.

"No, but I will act like her if you don't hydrate yourself." Brook responded with a smile, putting on her babysitter tone. If this guy was gonna act like a kid, she'd treat him like a kid.

Oh, the nerve on this girl, plenty of chutzpa on her. Pocketknife was about to say something, trying to one up her on sassiness, maybe even bring up that he doesn't have a mom. That was when he noticed her t-shirt, a tank top for the band WJJ, a folk punk band that was founded not far from where he lived, with a relatively small but loyal fan base. "Wait a minute. You listen to them." He said, pointing at her shirt, surprising her.

"Huh?" She looked down at her shirt, "Oh, WJJ? Hell yeah! I listen to them almost everyday! They remind me of high school even though I got into them just a few years ago. Like five years ago. I was way out of high school by then." Just like that, the two of them, were instant friends. The bar to become friends with someone like Pocketknife was low, so was the bar to become friends with Brook. When you put two and two together, the bar for the two of them to become friends was through the ground and out the other side of the planet.

The two conversed, even sharing a cigarette, talked about their favorite WJJ songs, brought up the few criticisms they have for the music, even going as far to try to sing in an off key manner. "Let's get murdered, let's go to sleep and never wake up! Let's find a loophole out of this!" Brook laughed. "But yes, a great band... Nice to meet you. Makes me forget that it wasn't exactly safe to approach someone so dangerous and shady looking... Uh, no offense."

"Don't worry. I like looking dangerous. Not shady though." He shrugged, before immediately snapping into the next subject on his mind. "You fight?"

"Nope, but I know someone who does. Also my name is Brook. That's Brook without an e at the end." With the amount of times people misspelled her name on papers and documents, she had the need to specify that; she hadn't ever seen anyone misspell her name on a coffee cup though because, after all, she didn't drink that shit.

"Brook?" Pocketknife nodded. He heard that name before? "You know Eli?"

Brook's eyes widened, hearing the name from the stranger. She'd bet a good sum of money if this guy was with Primal. "Uh, yeah, are you his friend or are you here to fight him? He's already having a fight so someone kind of beat you to that if that's the case."

"Yes and yes. Would like either." He pointed at his chest. "Pocketknife. That's me."

"Oh!" Brook said, the realization hitting her finally. "You, you're the guy that Eli stayed with when he went out on his own."

"That's right."

"Damn, small world," She nodded, "I swear, Darnelle said there is only 108 of you but I feel now that I'm just surrounded by Primal fighters."

"I don't pay attention to that." He shrugged, "I just fight when can."

"Uh huh, feels that's a common trait. But anyways, Eli should be getting here sometime soon." She held up her phone. "Ethan just texted me and told me they're heading over now. I'm sure Ethan would love to meet you."

But, before Ethan and Eli could get there, there was a great threat on the horizon. A certain cat was walking over to the two. Brook was overcome by a great sense of fear, an instinctive sense of flight or fight, causing her body to lock up. Even the fearless Pocketknife felt a frightening aura rising above him. It was Mrs. Siebert, the motel's landlady. "Ms. Rivers! You, the coati," she shouted, "Clean that shit up!" She pointed to the pile of cigarette butts on the asphalt. "The parking lot looks like shit, but I don't want cigarettes lying around, understood?" She paused, looking at the two's frozen expressions. "Understood?!"

"Yes, ma'am!" The two said in unison.

"I'll borrow the broom from the janitor, just wait here." Brook said as she ran off to do just that, no way she'd stay on Siebert's bad side. In the distance, she could see the binturong and the white bat approaching them; the warrior and his handler finally returning from another battle, while the two goofballs had a fight of their own.

One quick cleanup later, Ethan and Eli helping out a bit, the group was back in the apartment. Eli and Pocketknife sat on the floor while Brook and Ethan sat in their respective couches. If the apartment felt crowded with three people in it, then it felt absolutely skin tight when there was 4 people in it.

"That'd be the second time this week you got on her bad side," Ethan groaned, scolding Brook. "I know it's easy, but let's be more careful." It wasn't like she'd evict them, he knew she'd never do that. But she was still a nightmare when she was especially angry. "Anyways, Brook, looks like you made a new friend." He said, looking over to Pocketknife, who was lounging back on the dirty floor. "You're Pocketknife, aren't you?"

"That's me, yeah." Pocketknife nodded, sitting cross legged. "When's the fight? You have a fight for me huh?"

"Well that's what we're gonna discuss." Ethan took his phone out, looking for the one called Pilotte. Weird that Pilotte himself wasn't here to discuss things; maybe that was a good thing, Ethan couldn't stomach the idea of a serial killer being in the same place he slept. Maybe Pilotte didn't even care who he was fighting. "So first, I want to warn you two, that the guy you're gonna be fighting kills people. That's just what he does for a hobby."

"A serial killer." Brook added, wanting to contribute.

"Okay, so?" Pocketknife asked.

"Yeah, so?" Eli repeated.

"I feel that's kind of an important thing to know before you fight someone!" Ethan explained, completely baffled. "I'm saying that both of you could die!"

"I don't plan to live long," Pocketknife grinned. "I say yes to serial killer man."

He doesn't plan to live very long, huh? That's exactly what Ethan and Brook said when they were teens, way back when, and here they are now; a pair of tired adults with their lives more or less put together, still living. Ethan than looked to Eli, wondering what his thought were.

Eli just shrugged, "Well, if I die, I die, at least I'll do it the way I want. That's what I said back when fighting Darnelle. The tiger wasn't aiming to kill me, yeah sure, but there was still the risk of death there." He rubbed his chin. "The idea of fighting someone who wants to kill me, sounds like a good learning experience. Fighting with the intent to hurt but not injure. Fighting with the intent to injure but not kill. Fighting with the intent to kill. They were completely different things. I don't think I've ever fought against that last one."

So it was agreed then. Ethan looked to Brook, both of them nodding. "Alright, you two, we're gonna call Kaya tonight and settle on a time. Eat right, train, and we'll tell you when you're gonna be fighting. Just, uh, please try to stay alive in this fight? I'll miss both of you."

"Oh, we said we were fine with fighting someone who kills. The risk of death doesn't bother us." Eli looked over to Pocketknife, both of them beaming with confidence. "We didn't say we wanted to die."

"So that all?" Pocketknife asked, moving to lie on his back.

"Guess so," Ethan nodded, smiling, happy to see the two of them in such high spirits at least. Confidence can raise your survival believe it or not. "I suppose that means you're working under, Pocket?" It had to be more official than that. Did he stumble his way into becoming the Handler for two fighters or did he have to do some extra paperwork?

"Talk to my dad. He handles." Pocketknife, still on his back, gave a thumbs up; although it was only a thumbs up from his perspective, it was more like a thumbssideways from where Ethan was looking. "Also call me Pocketknife. Not Pocket."

"Sick!" Eli hopped up. "In the meantime, I'm going to the park to take a nap." He headed off, already on his way out the door.

"Take a shower first, you're covered in blood!" Ethan yelled to him, prompting the boy to turn his back and walk to the bathroom. At least there was one thing that Eli would listen to him with.

With Pocketknife deciding to take a nap on their living room floor, Eli in the shower, the two friends could now discuss things as private as they could in this tiny tiny house.

"So, guess it's that easy, huh?" Ethan said, relieved.

"Guess it is." Brook nodded, going to the minifridge to grab a beer. Taking out a cold one, she cracked open the can and took a sip. "Guess all that's left to do is trust in these two? I was a bit worried, about how they'd feel."

"Feel about what?"

"I don't know, they feel like tools or weapons, don't they?" She sipped her beer, "I mean, technically they are, but I'm just happy they are with being tools."

"Yeah, agreed." Ethan said, watching Pocketknife nap on the floor. How does one fall asleep that fast?

"Well, anyways, that brings me to something that's been on my mind, even since we met with Kaya. That whole 'using Primal for rewards that are more than just money thing.'"

"Yeah?" Ethan asked, listening in on what she had to say.

"Think I've figured it out."

"Think I have a few guesses."

"It isn't beer, before you even joke about that." She said as she sat back down. "I want to bring 'you know who' to justice. I'm sure something like that wouldn't be out of reach of Primal."

Ethan paused, knowing exactly what she was talking about. A story shared only between the two of them, back in their high school days. "Yeah, I'm sure of it. Been waiting on him getting what's coming for him. I'm sure these two would love to see it too."

"You get your dad, I get revenge." She raised her beer, as if toasting an invisible man.

The way forward was lit, their minds were finally clear, and the fighters were ready. It was time for the true test of their strengths.

---

Not too much to say on this one. This feels like something that could've been in the last chapter but I chose to move it to the last one. The opponent in fight there, who didn't even get any lines, was simply there to show that Eli is still definitely fighting.

Also WJJ is a reference to AJJ, one of my favorite Folk Punk bands. The song they were singing there is Let Us Get Murdered