Miguels glaring down at you from behind his desk. You’re seated, and he’s towering over you like a predator. “What’s your game here?” He asks, walking around the desk.

“Guess I should’ve done a quick background check on you. You can’t fight for shit, from what i’ve seen.” he stops beside you, snarling

“Get your ass into the training room, now.”

Soon, you and Miguel were standing just a few feet from each other in a large echoey room. Miguel’s stretching.

“I suggest you give it all you’ve got, or the janitor will be cleaning your blood off the floor.”