He wipes the dust, sweat, blood, and tomato juice from that rude spectator next to the king off his forehead. The last opponent was easy, seeing as he hadn't yet developed that extraordinary bloodlust that kept Kurogane going. But the next fight should be a little harder.

The blonde mane that twisted with elegant, deadly grace every time he went in for the kill was shown, magnified, on the huge floating screen above Kurogane's head. His crazy, joyful, mindless laugh floated down from the speakers, and Kurogane grinned.

Dust? Or gold? Which to choose?

Maybe he'd pick both.

The fight above ended, and the big box shuddered and cracked. Anxious murmurs flitted through the crowd.

"What?-technical difficulties, over soon-husband's at home-Peggy, are you watching?" Kurogane didn't bother listening; the man was coming, and he wanted to meet him. Maybe it was this person whom he'd been waiting for? This strong, crazy stranger in the other half of the arena? Hmmm.

He resolved to fight his best, to be worthy of the smack down he was about to get.

Because he knew, in his bones and muscles, that he couldn't beat Fai.

Not even if he tried.