Seconds felt like years, minutes like centuries as Rothschild awaited his fate. After several minutes, the jury returned to their seats and a single juror stood up.
Has the jury reached a verdict?
Your honor we have. We, Jury of the Free World, find Evelynn Rothschild, guilty in excess of all charges. The Jury has unanimously reached the verdict of enforcing the harshest public execution we can throw at him.
Judge Allen let out a small sigh then looked to Rothschild.
Evelynn Rothschild, this court has found you guilty on all charges, the penalty for which is Public Execution, which the Jury has unanimously voted yes to. You are to be put to death publically for the world to see. You may pick from the list of assorted methods on how you die that will be given to you following the sounding of my gavel. May your god have mercy on your soul.
With the sharp bang of the gavel, the Judge stood up and left the room.
Rothschild began looking over the list as he was led to Washington Park. He shook his head. None of the listed options were what he wanted to do as his last act. He stopped and looked to the crowd, then shouted... What I want....I WANT TO FIGHT THE GHOST OF OTTAWA ONE ON ONE! NO ARMOR, NO WEAPONS! JUST FISTS! I WANT A GLADITORAL DEATH!
The crowd looked to the Judge, who looked at the Ghost.
I shall grant your request, but you will denied a warrior's death. You will die a disgrace to humanity, you will die alone, and you will die by my hands. said the Ghost coldly as he stepped out of his armor. His world war two, army green, coveralls flapped in the wind.
WCMY got set up as the Ghost slipped on his compression gloves. His mind was calm, his facial expression was blank as he prepared to fight the tyrant. Rothschild's mind raced, planning how'd he'd kill the Ghost with his bare hands. The crowd settled in behind the chined off fighting arena set up on the edge of Washington Park.
The Ghost lifted his head and closed his eyes as the sun warmed his face in the early Autumn day. This was Autumn Adorned Revenge, this was how peace was going to last. As the clock struck noon, the Ghost and Rothschild entered the ring.
Remember, this is a death match. Anything goes, so long as spectators remain out of harm's way. Ready Rothschild? Rothschild smiled and nodded. Ready Ghost? The Ghost simply nodded and assumed his fighting stance. Begin!
Rothschild rushed at the Ghost who promptly landed his fist square with Rothschild's sternum. Rothschild staggered backwards, but the Ghost didn't let up. The Ghost socked Rothschild in the ear, the shoulder, the neck and face before Rothschild found his footing.
Remember Rothschild, it was you who demanded to die my hands.
The Ghost took a deep breath and called forth his rage and anger. His hits became that much more deadly as this was controlled rage and anger. Each of hits was more and more precise than the last, and each hit felt to Rothschild as if he was hit by a truck. The Ghost had spent his time fighting while Rothschild spent most of his time in his office asking soldiers to do his bidding.
With a well placed hit, the Ghost uppercut Rothschild in the jaw, knocking him out. However, smelling salts were administered to wake him up. The Ghost splattered Rothschild's blood across the arena. Knees, hands, shins and feet were used against the tyrant. With another well placed hit, the Ghost shattered Rothschild's jaw entirely. He broke Rothschild's ribs, arms and legs as well.
The Ghost grabbed Rothschild by the neck and lifted him into the air. This is the last time I ever have to see your ugly mug alive. I will make sure history remembers the tyrant who decided to mess with the free world and was killed by a shadow living in it. When you get to hell, tell the devil the Ghost of Ottawa sent you.
The Ghost grabbed Rothschild by the upper and lower jaw and ripped the lower portion off of Rothschild's head. However, before the Ghost could ram the fragmented jaw into his skull cavity, a single gunshot rang out revealing a new faction, one the heroes were all too familiar with.