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“They’re just for fun, no meaning,” Alessio said. “You probably shouldn’t count next time you see him close-up.” He smiled strangely. “Or maybe you should.”

Carlotta shook her head with a disgusted expression, then narrowed her eyes at Massimo. “Do you have a tally list too?”

Alessio chuckled and shook his head.

“I don’t require one,” Massimo said with an expression that suggested he wasn’t sure why Carlotta would even ask.

“He has a mental one.”

“And you?” I cocked an eyebrow. “You three always hang out together. I doubt you’re only sitting by while Nevio and Massimo kill people.” I lowered my voice for the last part as if anyone in this arena didn’t know they were killers. The noise level had risen up to painful dimensions when Nevio climbed up the steps to the cage, so I doubted anyone could eavesdrop anyway.

“Oh, I’m not any better or worse than those two, but I’m not the one smooching with you girls.”

Massimo gave him an exasperated look.

The door to the changing room opened, and Nevio’s opponent stepped out. He was sturdier than Nevio, very muscled but not as defined. A bit of fat had accumulated around his belly. He had a thorn crown inked into his bald skull and a huge skull with Jesus on his chest. The marks of the staking were also tattooed into his wrists and ankles, and his smile was on the verge of insanity.

“He looks crazy,” Carlotta whispered, appalled.

“He is clinically insane,” Massimo commented with a casual shrug as he leaned back in the booth.

“Should he even be here then? He can’t make rational decisions in his state.”

Massimo regarded Carlotta with furrowed brows. “Fighters don’t have to be sane.”

Alessio chuckled. “By society’s standards, none of us are sane considering our murderous tendencies.”

Carlotta looked truly concerned. She lightly touched Massimo’s forearm. “Still. I feel sorry for him.”

“He thinks he’s the incarnation of Jesus, and he attacked a couple of priests because their sermon suggested otherwise,” Massimo said.

Carlotta’s eyes widened, and she looked at the man, who’d by now reached the cage. “Wow.”

“Would you prefer to go outside with me while Nevio fights?” Massimo asked quietly.

I exchanged a look with Alessio, who rolled his eyes with a dry chuckle.

“I’ll be fine,” Carlotta said with a shaky smile.

“Just tell me if you need to go out.”

Stifling a laugh, I turned back to the cage, my belly twisting with nerves. Nevio’s opponent was insane, and insanity could be dangerous. People developed incredible strength if driven by madness. When the man entered the cage, I realized just how much taller and broader than Nevio he was. He was half a head taller than Nevio, who was already 6’4, and he had probably at least sixty pounds on him, though looks could be deceiving. Nevio was all muscle, and those weighed more than fat. Still, fear filled me as I watched the man cross himself with a too-wide grin.

Nevio leaned against the cage with crossed arms and regarded his opponent with condescension. He didn’t look concerned in the slightest.

“This will be a long fight,” Alessio muttered, supporting himself on his elbows and blowing out a long breath.

“You think the guy can beat Nevio?” I whispered.

Massimo shook his head. “No. But Nevio usually toys with these kinds of opponents.”

His relaxed stance changed the moment the referee left the cage and locked the door. I still couldn’t detect a sign of nervousness. He looked hungry and lethal, his dark eyes locked on his opponent with a deadly determination that sent a chill down my spine. Then one corner of his mouth darted up, but this smile—if you could even call it by that name—reminded me so much of the Joker smile on his back that my belly fluttered anxiously.

“I’m divine. Bow at my greatness!” the man shouted.

Nevio pushed himself away from the cage. “First, I’ll shut you up.” The man barreled toward him with a fervor that had the entire cage rattling and shaking under the force of his heavy steps. Nevio sidestepped the attack and aimed a kick at the man’s back, sending him flying against the cage. He whirled around, a wound at his head bleeding, and Nevio’s bare foot hit him under the jaw. The crack of the bone echoed through the arena.

Carlotta raised her palms in front of her face, but I couldn’t take my eyes off the equally brutal and grotesque display.

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