-

“Well, well…what have we here?” The dark hair of the lanky, yet built, man covered his face somewhat as he leaned forward. The young woman he had as his assistant looked a bit surprised as she looked at the person who sat in the biggest chair in the building. “Uh, s…sir? What do you mean?” The man stood up and chuckled to himself. “After all the time and effort I put into this damn tournament…and some little shitsqueak decides to pop in a fuck it all up. I guess I have to get down there. Amala!” He snapped his head to look at her. “Work with security. Get everyone out of the building. I’ll take care of him.”

She nodded as the five foot ten man walked closer to the window. Whoever this asshole was, he would easily be able to see the man in the box seat far above the seats before him. Dressed in a type of suit, for once, the pirate was decked out in a white shirt and black blazer, along with his usual black pants and combat boots. Emblazoned on the jacket’s right chest pocket was an embroidery of golden thread to make out the initials G.M. Lastly was the small pouch that rested on his back, at the waist attached to his belt. Suddenly, the window broke and pieces of glass fell into the crowd that had begun to rush out beforehand anyway. One with the eyes to notice the movement would have seen the mystery benefactor’s arm sling as though he had thrown something, which could explain the glass.

But when he suddenly appeared next to the ring, with his eyes locked on the man in the middle, it could be seen that things were serious. “Ok then, shit stain. You wanna come in here and fuck up my tournament? Then I’ll be your opponent. Do you know how much money I had to put into this little shindig? Trust me when I say you probably couldn’t even match it if you had won the jackpot at Caesar’s Palace.” He jumped suddenly and easily cleared the ropes to land before the slightly shorter man in the ring. “So, tough guy…The name is Gren Meliden. Don't care if you care or not. Why don’t you tell me what the fuck you want before you get thrown through a wall? Or should I just get to the bashin', eh?”

-

Gren took the time to size up his opponent while he spoke, a noted the lack of eyes. Those who fight without sight are tough opponents and the man knew that personally. After all, there had been plenty of times he had to get by without his sight, and he felt more deadly in those times than any other. But there seemed to be something more. Perhaps it was just a bad feeling, but there was no way he was going to back down now. The fighter, still unnamed to the pirate, did have something to say in regards to the man. Gren was correct that he wouldn’t care about his name or anything, but it was certainly odd the “how brightly you shine in my world” comment from him.

As the fighter took up his stance, Gren did the same. The jacket he wore suddenly vanished and the white shirt underneath could be seen in full view, top two buttons undone and the sleeves only reached the middle of his upper forearm. The shinobi’s right leg went back about a foot and rested calmly while his right arm was folded behind the back. The left arm extended towards the ground with his palm outward and towards his opponent. During this time, the little ring that had sat in the middle of the arena collapsed under the weight of their power, though it was more the unnamed fighter’s pressure than anything.

“Alright then, buddy. Let’s do this. I’ll give you the challenge of the ages, or die trying.”

With about two feet of space between the two, there would be little maneuvering with the cramped conditions. And Gren still had to make sure the innocent bystanders got out of the building before things got too bad. The arena would likely not survive the fight and he always had disliked unnecessary deaths. So, the pressure was put on the pirate to throw the first punch…to at least ensure he could direct the fight until the others had gotten away.

His left arm came up, but it was merely a feint. While he threw a small jab towards the face, he brought his right leg around and swept at the fighter’s forward leg. The collision, if Shin decided not to move, would prove to have a bit more force behind it than one would expect from someone with a body so small. Simultaneously, the ninja continued to move with, as shortly after he would continue and turn to bring his left elbow up in a spinning blow to the back of the man’s head. Through it all, his body was like water, fluid and loose. He was always ready for a counter attack and knew that none of his attacks were guaranteed blows.

This would be the test of his skill and power. And he was ready.

-

And the man’s hand would find nothing but air as he attempted to strike the ninja in the back. The collision from the elbow’s was powerful, but Gren continued to move even as his opponent did. With momentum on his side from his initial movement, the man performed a pivot on the toe of his left foot to swing around behind the martial artist shortly after the duo slammed their elbows into each other. His right leg came around just as Shin threw his left arm forward.

The ninja performed a swift kick to the right side of Shin, and there would be nowhere for the man to run. His speed and fluidity helped to add to the pirate’s fighting style, which was that of constant motion and unpredictability, and he worked off of momentum. His opponents or his own, Gren was always prepared to move based on the actions at play. In a simultaneous movement, the right arm of the pirate swung around from behind his back to take up a more defensive stance, both arms in the front and prepared for another counter, in case Shin was able to somehow avoid the attack.

-