Lemoria's slums were rife with shady businesses that thrived under the lax security. One of these businesses was an illegal fighting club, where gladiators fought to the death for a chance to earn some money.
Damian wanted to join this club, despite the risks. He had nothing to lose and everything to gain. He knew it was a matter of life or death, both in the arena and outside of it.
He had taken a job from the black market, a dangerous and secretive place where no one dared to cross the wrong people. Damian hoped he wouldn't end up with a bounty on his head for this.
He approached a man with a notebook in a dark alley. The man was dressed in black, blending in with the shadows.
"Are you one of the gladiators?" the man asked.
Damian nodded. He had changed his appearance to look like a muscular man with scars all over his body. He hoped to intimidate his opponents and impress the spectators.
"Go in. Someone will check you out."
