The crowds continue to laugh and make light of the young man fighting their champion. This puny newbie was supposed to fight a man as massive as the Iron Giant? It was laughable. However, the din quieted as the blow hit. The Iron Giant was jerked back. He caught his feet beneath him before he crashed off the stage, but he still stumbled back a few steps. Blood leaked from his jaw slightly and a large hand came up to wipe it away, looking at the blood in shock.

"Quite the blow, boy," he murmured. "Now. It's my turn." He began to walk towards the prone man, raising both fists over his head, preparing to slam the boy straight through the particle board and onto the concrete below it. However, that's when the strange sensation hit again.

He saw the man bring his fists down, his body moving on instinct as he forced his knee out of the board. He watched himself roll backward, going under the swinging arms to plant a kick on the man's stomach, angled upwards. His other boot still had its spring, letting it bounce and increasing the blow of his kick. This also would allow him to spring himself forward, flipping away from the man he was fighting.

And then he was back in his same position, just managing to get his knee out of the board as the champ lifted his hands to smash down on his challenger.

His knee was bleeding, he noted in a detached corner of his mind. He would have to fish the splinters out of it later.

Also, what?

"Shit, shit, shit! The sprnglock wasn't supposed to break!"

He quickly rest the other boot by adjusting his weight, but the one from the kick wasn't exactly going to let itself be tamed. That was going to be a hindrance, but if he abandoned the boot he wouldn't be able to make safe landings. So he would just have to do his best with what he had.

"Hey ugly!" he shouted at the Giant, because this wasn't cliche enough yet. "Come and get some!"

Ah, there it is.

Noting that the crowd aparently had no problem with his weapon, he released the springlock again. The board broke under his foot, and he barely hopped three feet into the air, and keeping his flight path straight was a bitch, but he managed to launch himself at the Giant (bloody) knee first.

The Giant stumbled backwards, eyes widening in shock from the blow. His knees started to buckle, but the man caught himself before he could fall. The second blow struck his face, jerking him up before forcing him to stumble back again. The crowds were silent. The champion was being beaten back by a new guy who seemed to barely be able to fight.

He wasn't done, though. The man straightened up, gritting his teeth as he looked to his opponent. "No more playing around then. I'll show you what you've gotten yourself into, punk," he growled, lowering his shoulders before shooting towards him. The man was surprisingly quick for his size.

In that instant, the images came again and Jack was able to move as the visions came this time. The champ shot his arm out, trying to punch Jack. The boy was able to sidestep that, twisting around it before launching himself up with surprising ease to avoid the second hand from catching him. With a quick twist, his heel came down on the man's face...only to be met with what felt like a wall of sheer stone. Immovable. Powerful. It stung like a bitch too. The visions stopped at that moment and the man's fist came barreling into Jack's side.

No, that didn't feel like stone at all. It was more like...metal. Iron. The blow sent the challenger toppling to the ground, his ribs feeling like it would break with the next strike, if it hadn't already.

He lay there for half a second. Perhaps half a second too long. Ahhhh... Oh that stinged.

"Fuck this."

Archer pushes against the platform with his spring loaded feet. The springs are out, but the pressure still allows them to push him forward with more efficiency. He leaps up with his back in the corner, and loads his boot again. He leaps forward, his arc almost flat with the ground. The board breaks under him as he leaps, and the platform begins to shudder. Suddenly all the holes in the thin, lazy particle board crack open even further, and it all collapses in on itself. As he flies through the air, yet still low to the ground, he allows the spring on his other foot to catch the giant's leg. Combined with the platform tilting down in front of him...

He should fall face first into the corner of the arena. But the knowing how tough his skin was to crack it would probably hurt the ground more than it hurt him.

As Jack slid up the slop of the board, he loaded his boot again. He released it almost immediately, and brought his knee into the base of the giant's skull.

The giant's eyes widened in shock at the move, tumbling over as his leg was caught. He crashed into the board, starting to fall straight through to the concrete below, but he pivoted his body to face Jack. His hand came up to catch the boy's leg...but a vision shot through his mind just before it happened. With a pivot of his own, Jack managed to grab the man's wrist and continue his trajectory into the man's face. The man's eyes widened in shock just before it happened, the knee finding the softer flesh. It was still harder than it should have been, but not the iron hard mass that he had been met with before.

The Iron Giant toppled to the ground, Jack coming down on top of him. The man didn't move, though. He was out cold.

"W-Winner...uh...Iron Man?" the announcer piped up reluctantly, the harsh hush almost deafening throughout the warehouse. After a few moments, though, as this announcement was made...cheers erupted. It seemed there was someone who could topple the champion of their games.

...

The sound of nervous laughter began to well up in Jack's throat like phlegm. He mustn't laugh. But he couldn't help it. It burst from him. He nearly collapsed from laughing. To those in the crowd, perhaps he looked mad. Perhaps that was even an appropriate look.

"HAHAHA... hahaha... ah... oh man, Marvel is going to sue somebody. Not me though, none of you schmucks know my name!"

Maybe he should have worn a mask too. Oh well.

"Now then, for my closing comments. Ehem. You, are not a gun. You are who you choose to be. Also, where's my money and fuck the Russians!"

He probably should go through the Giant's wallet, that was his excuse for the fight or something right? Then again he couldn't really bring himself to get close to the big guy. What if he woke up.

"Well anyway. Good afternoon, good evening, and-"

Then the second set of springlocks went off, in his other foot this time, he found himself laucnhed a good twenty feet into the air, and into the ocean water beyond the docks.

Oh well, as good an exit strategy as any...

He swam back to land, a ways away from the fights.

The loud ruckus could still be heard from the water even as Jack made the swim back. It didn't take long to find a shore he could comfortably exit the water from, but he found someone already waiting for him. It was Will, a black beanie covering his dark brown hair, sunglasses obscuring his blue eyes. The man had dressed nicer than his thuggish counterparts, opting for a button up shirt with jeans. A wide grin came to his face as he saw Jack make it out of the water. How he knew where Jack was going to wash up, though, was a mystery.

"Awesome match," he complimented. "As promised, your half of the prize money." He tossed a rather large stack of money to him, letting him catch it and count through it. It was a lot of big bills. All in all, there had to be at least a few thousand in that stack alone. "Unfortunately, that won't work again. You've increased your rep with them. The betting will be in your favor if you fight again. Might double the money I put down, but this was 1 to 100 odds, at least." He paused a moment, considering the man for a moment before nodding. "Well, guess our business is done. Careful around your neighborhood, you might get scouted after that display. I really recommend that new lock."

Will turned to walk away, not even acknowledging the strange events surrounding that fight.

Jack looked down at the large amount of money with a bit of awe. he'd never actually seen that much money in one place before.

"I can't really take all the credit," he shrugged. "For some weird reason it was like I could see the future during the fight. I think maybe god was helping me. I dunno. Probably not. They say god works in mysterious ways but... I really hope not this mysterious. Well replacing the lock wont't be a problem anymore. Going to have to rebuild these too..."

He removes his waterlogged shoes, literally pouring the ocean water out of the boots. He'd say something optimistic like, 'Well the sea water couldn't have screwed them over any worse than they already were right?' But actually it probably could.

"I could probably come back with a mask and something other than the boots. I could afford some materials for that Unobtainium catapult or something now. But um... yeah, no. I'm out of this business."

Jack goes home.

As Jack made his way home, it appeared like it would be rather uneventful after the odd occurrences that happened at the fights. The city was a dark place to hang around this late, criminals and filth crawling out to make their killing for the night. It became a very dangerous environment to be out in once the sun went down. Lucky for Jack, though, he seemed to be avoiding that for the most part. Maybe it was because he had won against the champ of the underground fights. Maybe he was just lucky. The more likely answer was that no one cared to steal from a Blight-dweller - what would they have to offer anyway?

Until he cut down an alley to head towards his apartment. Just as he was getting towards a small intersection in the alleyway, a loud crash resounded out of the man's view. A man was thrown into view shortly after, a trash can being kicked into him soon after that. He groaned softly, shoving the trash can off himself.

The weird part was...Jack recognized him. It was Rat. The man who he had saved from a fight with the champ.

"Holy hell, are you ok?" Jack asks as he runs up to the Rat. He places his boots, which he had been carrying because it's pretty hard to walk along with springs sticking out of the bottom of your shoes, on the ground beside him. He looks in his eyes to see if he can notice the pupils contracting, but doesn't have any equipment or ability to better asses the possibility of a concussion. He didn't seem to be bleeding anywhere at least.

He looks down the alleyway. "What the hell happened?"

Rat didn't respond initially. He groaned in pain again, hand clutching his stomach. From what Jack could see, though, there were no cuts. Simply bruises from a first glance. However, it didn't take long before the reason for his injuries drew his attentions. At the end of the alleyway, there was a lone figure. Short black hair topped two narrow, violet eyes. A black mask hid the rest of the assailant's face, but the figure was clearly female. She wore a jean jacket over a tight, black bodysuit, part of the mask that obscured her face.

"I'd advise you to step away from that man," she stated softly. "He's involved with this city's underworld. He challenged the Iron Giant himself." She looked at the other man passively, betraying no emotion in the little he could see of her face. "You have no need to get involved here, but you'll earn yourself the same treatment if you resist."

What the hell, what the hell, what the hell!

"L-Listen, I'm not going to let you hurt this guy," Jack manages to stammer out. "He didn't do anything wrong. Just fighting? It's not like the Iron Giant wasn't asking for it right?"

He flinches.

"Ah hell."

Nice job genius, she has to know you were involved too now.

He sighs. His voice is resigned. "Look, this guy didn't fight the Iron Giant tonight, ok? I did. So if you're going to beat up anyone, it's going to have to be me."

The woman goes silent for a few moments as she regards the two. "I thought he seemed pretty weak. Unharmed after fighting such a brute. I find it hard to believe that you won, though," she stated. She let out a sigh. "You don't seem like the type to be involved with that lot...but I've also learned not to make assumptions on appearances. Your accent isn't from around here either...what brought you out here to fight?" She crossed her arms expectantly, waiting for an answer. It didn't seem like she was willing to let either of the two go until she was satisfied.

"Come out here to fight? Lady, I did not come out here to fight! That was my first and last experience in the ring.

"I came out here into the city looking for work as a mechanic! A mechanic! That's like, well OK maybe not the furthest possible thing from being a street fighter, but its pretty damn far from being a street fighter. Some stuff- nothing involving street fights!- went down back home, and I decided I had to leave in a hurry so I came here. I broke up with my girlfriend and, well, I don't like talking about it. I thought maybe I could get a job for a bit, maybe open my own shop someday, but it's not like the country here in the city. People don't look the other way with my... eccentricities.

"So I was running out of money, living in this god damned hole in the wall," he points at his apartment, "and I was desperate, ok? So when I learned I could make some money in the fights... well frankly I was almost too scared out of my fucking mind to do it anyway! Maybe you can't tell, but even talking to you right now has me freaked right the hell out! But I needed the money, and I thought maybe... maybe I could handle it, right? So I tried. And I guess I succeeded.

"Except now some crazy vigilante woman has show up not a block from my apartment, and I'm about to get my face kicked in anyway! Do you have any idea how unfair that is? Really?"

The woman seemed unimpressed by Jack's story, shaking her head. "That's the story for a lot of people here. Desperation. Backed into a corner. People love to take advantage of that sort of thing," she explained. Though, that really didn't need an explanation with the way things worked in the city. Even the country boy could see it. "Well, you certainly would be useless for the information I want. You're friend there outlived his uses. I already gave him his punishment." She began to turn away from the two, but paused briefly. "Just one more question. Most wouldn't hear from this fight ring normally. You've said you don't have much experience in fights, yet you defeated the champ. Were you in contact with a reporter, by any chance? William Gaines?"

What the hell does she want with him?

"No. Should I watch out for him?"

The woman didn't respond initially, studying his face. She let out a sigh. "Bad liar too...agh, that son of a bitch," she grumbled under her breath. Shaking her head in dismay, she looked back at the two. "Yes, I'd advise staying away from him. He likes desperate pawns to do his dirty work. The pay is good, but we'll eventually meet again if you insist on associating with him. I'm letting you go for your ignorance, but...you don't know what that psychic bastard is capable of." She turned away. "Hopefully we won't have to meet again."

With that, she took a few steps before leaping up to an emergency escape, higher than most people would be able to jump. She swung up quickly, making her way to the rooftops in record time.

"Lady," Jack mutters to himself, practically a whisper, "you're the one coming off as a psychopath right now."

Jack turns around and offers a hand to help the rat up. "Look, I'm sorry about that," he says as he grabs his Jump Boots again. Walking without his shoes on in this place was probably a bad idea, but he was keeping a close eye out for broken glass. "You want to come inside for a bit? The place is a hole in the wall, there's no food in the fridge, and the lock on the door's still busted, but maybe you can catch your breathe for a minute inside, right? Come on."