Amir slowly walked toward the long table where Senil was seated.
As he approached, the squid-headed alien noticed him too—but showed no reaction whatsoever, keeping a blank expression, as if a complete stranger were approaching.
Amir played along and pretended not to recognize him. Instead, he locked eyes with the Ishi Tib seated nearby—the one who looked like a hammerhead shrimp.
Its bent neck supported a T-shaped head with two bulbous eyes protruding on either side.
Ignoring the bodyguards, Amir walked up to the table and said, "I believe there's a contestant in tonight's match who shouldn't be here."
Ren, the Ishi Tib, made a chilling stereo noise from the twin mouths on the sides of his head. Amir felt like he was listening in dual audio channels.
"I don't know what you're talking about, sir," came the delayed, mechanical voice of the translator.
"One of your prisoners is my friend. He's being held in the arena cells," Amir said firmly.
"A friend, you say? Oh!" Ren turned to a nearby human, who leaned over and whispered something into his ear.
Once the man stepped back, Ren's double-voiced reply echoed again.
"We have hundreds of fighters. I couldn't possibly know which one you're referring to."
"He's a Falleen. Works at the port. Disappeared last night."
The human leaned in again, whispered a few words, then backed off.
"Disappeared, huh? And how do you know he's here with me?" Ren said with a smirk.
"I have my ways," Amir replied, pausing briefly before continuing, "I'm not here to cause trouble. Perhaps you'd be interested in some fine accessories?"
He pulled out a beautifully crafted ring from the Traveler—one of many left behind by Frossis.
The gleam of the gem caught Ren's attention instantly. His eyes lit up, though he quickly feigned hesitation and put on a troubled expression.
"There are so many guests tonight... If one of the performers goes missing, it could affect the whole show..."
Amir pulled out a bracelet next.
"All I want is to see my friend."
"Heh... Freil, go fetch our guest's—?"
"Amir."
"Yes, bring Mr. Amir's friend here. What kind of host lets a guest share quarters with the slaves?" Ren quickly reached for the ring and started admiring it, his eyes still glancing eagerly at the bracelet in Amir's hand.
Amir exhaled in relief. Looks like Frossis' jewelry really was valuable—or Ren had a thing for trinkets.
At least it was resolved peacefully. Veronica, watching nearby, relaxed as well.
In the cell, the spider droid crawled discreetly into Rango's pocket.
Moments later, two guards entered the room and carefully lifted him up.
Rango had only partially recovered and was too weak to resist.
"ROOAR!!" the Wookiee roared in protest.
"Where are you taking me?" Rango asked weakly.
"Thank your friend. You're free."
Hearing the Wookiee's roar from behind, Rango felt a pang of guilt. Even though they'd only met yesterday, the two had bonded like true friends.
"Free?" Rango wanted to fight back—to save the Wookiee—but he couldn't.
"Do I have to rely on Amir again?" he thought, falling silent.
The two guards carried him upward. As the scenery changed from shadows and rust to polished corridors and flashing lights, Rango saw the transformation from the underground pit to the world of lavish elites.
He heard their voices, laughing and chatting.
"Only one winner among hundreds of fighters! I'm definitely buying the champion as a bodyguard. So impressive!"
"What happens to the others? Do they... all die?"
"Haha! Who knows? There are healing pods, sure—but they're only for the valuable ones. The rest? Even if they survive a while, unless they make it to the final round, no one bothers saving them."
"That's so cruel..."
"You just don't get it. This is pure, primal combat. Only melee weapons—no tech. You'll see the beauty of raw violence soon!"
Rango kept walking silently.
"They say even guests can join the fight. If you pay enough, they'll pull you out anytime. No real danger. I kinda want to try it."
"Yeah! Even if you don't reach the finals, it'd be cool to experience it once."
Rango's steps grew heavier.
"Rango!" Amir spotted him being "escorted" and finally relaxed. He hurried over and helped him into a chair. Veronica handed Rango a glass of water.
"Thanks, Amir," Rango said after a sip. His color was already improving.
"Ha, back from the dead. So, what now—head back, or stick around for this... 'grand spectacle'?" Amir chuckled.
After a short rest and a shot of medicine, Rango stood up with renewed strength.
"I'll go wash my face first."
"Want me to come with?" Amir offered, thinking he might want to leave early. These shows weren't exactly their thing. He half-worried that Veronica might suddenly fire a round at the hammerhead shrimp and show the arena her version of "primal beauty."
"No, I'll go alone."
Rango seemed stable now, so Amir and Veronica returned to their ridiculously overpriced desserts. Five credits for a few tiny cakes? Criminal.
They didn't notice that Senil had also left his seat.
Once they finished devouring the oddly flavored sweets, they waited for Rango.
One minute. Two. Three.
"What's he doing, taking a dump?" Veronica muttered, annoyed.
"Maybe. Didn't see any toilets in the cellblock," Amir replied. His spider droid had just returned to his wrist display.
"I didn't ask you," Veronica snapped, shooting him a glare.
Suddenly, a booming sound drowned out the crowd noise. A host appeared on the massive screens suspended above the six side arenas, now broadcasting the center ring.
Countless lights burst to life in a dazzling spectacle, forming radiant patterns across the arena.
"Dear friends! Welcome to Coruscant's grandest event—THE UNDERGROUND ARENA!"
"Tonight, we bring you something rarely seen—THE BLOOD MASSACRE!"
All the lights shifted from the six outer arenas and focused on the central coliseum.
"All arenas are now open! A total of 321 contestants... and only ONE will remain standing!!"
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