Jack was squeezing through the crowd to get a better view and looking for Muerte and Long. He never imagined he would be looking for death so soon in his life. Death was nowhere to be found. People were discussing the fight around him, and he got some details from them.
Long was a Hong Kong triad member cooling off in USA and Muerte was an ex Mexican cartel enforcer.
»Where the hell did they find these guys?« Jack thought to himself.
He could understand getting a Nazi and a special forces guy in need of money fighting for money in a Chicago warehouse, but things got real very fast. This was no longer just about money and a friendly fight. As he looked up, he saw the seats on the two platforms were full.
One side was full of Latinos probably Mexicans, and the other was full of Asians who with Jack's limited knowledge he guessed were perhaps Chinese. They must have a separate entrance for the platform, so the VIPs don't mix with the riffraff was Jack's guess.
Jack saw a silhouette walking down a staircase from one of the platforms. It was a topless Asian with shaven hair, and Jack guessed he was Long. Very soon someone was walking on the stairway from the other side.
As the guy came into view, Jack gasped. He was at least 7 feet tall wearing a sleeveless west, had a muscular body, face like a horse with a thin mustache and long black hair. His eyes were like a dark abyss as Muerte turned around and faced the crowd. If Jack was still wondering if a guy could deservedly carry the nickname Muerte, he was now utterly convinced.
The Nazis and the black guys cleared the spots near the seat for the fighters, and the two new fighters sat down on them. Soon each of them got company. Attendants were taking care of their hands as supporters cheered them on.
As they got seated, Jack looked at the giant Mexican and noticed he had tattoos all over his arms chest and even his face. Especially unnerving was a skull tattoo right between his eyebrows. Jack knew these tattoos have special meanings but he didn't know what they mean, but he was sure it was nothing good.
Jack inspected the Mexican first, and after some wait, he got his stats:
Name: Ángel »Muerte« Dengra
Strength: 8
Constitution:10
Endurance:6
Speed:4
Dexterity:5
Perception:5
Intelligence:5
Wisdom:4
Willpower:6
Charisma:4
Luck: ???
Other than constitution and strength nothing was outstanding about the guy.
He clicked on details in his mind.
Ex Mara Salvatrucha, MS-13 member. Wanted for murder in Mexico. Wanted for rape and murder in Guatemala. Wanted for questioning in San Diego, California.
»What the hell is Mara Salvatrucha?« Jack frowned and took out his mobile to google it.
The results made him look at the giant a couple of more times as he read them.
Mara Salvatrucha or MS-13 was an international gang initially based in Los Angeles, California while most of their members came from El Salvador. According to Wikipedia, they were one of the most brutal gangs in the USA and their preferred method of killing was using a machete and hacking people to death.
»How bad do you have to be to get expelled from such a gang?« was Jack's next thought.
There was no mention of Chicago as a city where MS-13 was active anywhere on google, so Jack figured Angel was a lone wolf here getting in business with the local Latino gangs.
He looked at Long. The guy was probably less than 6 feet tall and had a giant dragon tattoo all over his chest. He looked fit but not overly muscular. His face revealed calmness and confidence as if this was just a walk in the park for him. Jack used inspect on Long after getting his visual read.
Name: Long Huo
Strength: 7
Constitution:7
Endurance:9
Speed:9
Dexterity:9
Perception:8
Intelligence:7
Wisdom:7
Willpower:8
Charisma:6
Luck: ???
His strength was ok, but his speed, endurance, and dexterity were extreme. He clicked the details and got more information.
Member of Wo Shing Wo or WSW. Wanted for murder in Hong Kong, Wanted for questioning in Toronto, Canada.
Jack was having a headache. So many gangs he never heard of are in his neighborhood. He googled, and Wikipedia provided answers for WSW. A triad originating from Toronto, Canada which moved their base in 1931 to Hong Kong. They were involved in extortion, drug trafficking, gambling, and prostitution.
Jack figured they had a turf dispute and rather than going into an all-out war the higher-ups decided to settle the matter using their strongest fighters. It was a sensible thing to do since an all-out war in the open would draw the attention of the authorities, and the collateral damage would probably outweigh any gains they may have. They would also both weaken themselves and exposed their backs to other gangs to exploit.
Jack decided to just stay for this fight and get the hell out of Dodge the moment it was over. He was not interested in a High noon moment in his life.
The time for the fight soon came, and the announcer just said the names Muerte and Long. He didn't make them join them in a private chat. He was probably scared shitless by them and rightfully so.
Apparently, they haven't participated here ever before, so they had no fight records. Jack was sure they had plenty of fights in their belts by the way they were both calm and collected watching their opponents.
The announcer just said: «All bets are final. Fight.«
Jack was not interested in betting since both odds were a positive 80 it meant the bookies judged a 50% win rate in either way and the stats didn't show him a clear favorite as they did before.
The giant crouched and spread his hands as the Asian moved left and right with his feet doing some kung fu stuff with his hands. Giant slowly closed in, and the Asian moved forward. When the Asian was within reach of Muerte, he ducked right as Muerte's hands were trying hit him in the face.
Muerte exposed his side and Long kicked him in the knee with full force and jumped away. The giant didn't even flinch and turned around to grab him. The Asian knew if Muerte got close to him he would be toast, so he just circled around and waited for his chances. Soon the same situation happened again. Duck and kick at the same knee.
Muerte was getting annoyed at his opponents fleeing all over the ring, and he changed his tactic. He ran towards the Asian and tried to kick him this time, but the Asians speed was far superior. He ducked and punched at the same knee he did two times before.
By now Muerte was feeling the pain, and he hobbled. Long took the initiative and closed in. Muerte swung his right hand again at Long. Long was just trying to dodge and kick him again in the knee as before when he noticed the speed of the swing was not a full force one like before. Longs leg movements already betrayed his next action was the same kick as Muerte leaped on him. Using his massive size as an advantage he surprised Long, and they both crashed on the floor of the ring.
Once Muerte was on top of Long he held one hand on Long's throat and just punched away with the other ruthlessly. It was punch after punch after punch. The announcer didn't know what to do.
It was apparent he was trying to stop the fight before someone got killed, but he didn't dare to.
He looked up towards the VIP seats, and the higher-ups were both standing and yelling at each other. Muerte kept pummelling Long who by now didn't even move his hands. Long's face looked like a bloody mess. There were blood and mucus on the ring sprayed around his head.
Muerte held Long by his throat and looked up for instruction what he should do. The Asian yelled something, but they could not hear from the crowd's noise and screaming. The Chinese took out his phone showed it to the Latino boss and dialed.
After a few seconds, the Latino boss just showed Muerte to rise up. The Chinese boss was visibly upset. The start was very promising for them, but Muerte found a way to use his extreme size and the limited space of the ring to turn things around.
Jack took note of this.
»Never underestimate your opponent. Even if he is a big, dumb, slow guy. Or you will end up without a face.« thought Jack.
As Muerte rose from Long's lifeless body and started hobbling towards the stairs, Jack was already on his way out.
He had enough of adventures in Chicago's underworld in one day.
He didn't want to see who will fight for the Cosa Nostra or the Puerto Ricans or whoever else may come here...