After Vi had been abandoned by Caitlyn, he set off to take out his rage in opponents in the ring. He was on a rampage, knocking out other fighters left and right. It was the only way he could fill the void. But, as time progressed, Vi's mental and emotional state got worse, causing him to lose more of his fights. He began to snap at others, get lost in drinking, and his only friend, Loris, eventually gave up on him and left Vi to fend for himself.

Vi was hopeless and lost, but he didn't stop fighting. It was the only thing he was good at anymore.

So, he kept going. Wake up, fight, drink, sleep, repeat. It was a terrible and destructive cycle, but what more did he have to lose?

After yet another fight and harsh beating, Vi slowly trekked up the stairs towards his residence, but his legs felt like thin sticks trembling under so much weight. He only reached halfway before he collapsed on the landing between the stairs. But this time, he didn't get back up. He just laid there, having given up. He didn't know if he could keep going anymore. All he could feel was the sharp gravel beneath him and the dirty puddles drenching his clothes. He stared at the wall, his frustrated and once lively eyes now full of weariness and dullness.

"Fuck…" He muttered defeatedly, his words slurred from the alcohol he drank after the fight.