One, two, three... I haven't even used my full strength, and you've already fallen?

The hulking, green-haired leader was something of a big shot in this sector. His name did not belong to any Earth language, though if one had to approximate it, it sounded something like "Soh."

Soh’s gang was four times the size of I尔森’s, boasting a full fifty members. Unlike the ragtag, unarmed wretches under I尔森, Soh’s men were clad in relatively well-fitted armor and carried, at the very least, a bladed weapon. Some even wielded laser firearms scavenged from the gladiatorial arena guards. In the context of Sakaar, such a gang constituted a formidable force. After all, a larger group meant higher consumption, and on a planet as resource-starved as Sakaar, anyone capable of sustaining so many mouths was not to be trifled with.

Soh relied on his brute strength and a personality that was swift, precise, and ruthless. When others were still standing back to observe, he would be the first to charge, snatching up the choicest spoils. His green hair held no special significance on Earth or even on Sakaar—it was merely a natural byproduct of the radiation that plagued the planet—but it had become his personal emblem. This was Soh, the Green-Haired Wild Wolf. Though, those who had suffered at his hands preferred to call him the Green-Haired Mad Dog.

Beside him stood his wife, Vanyu, who also served as the gang’s second-in-command. It was said that most of her race were breathtakingly beautiful, yet she was so hideously ugly that her own family had discarded her on the Sakaar scrap heap like refuse. But do not be fooled by her aged and grotesque appearance; her capacity for malice was beyond that of any ordinary person. This was, perhaps, to be expected. In a place like Sakaar, there were no shortage of people willing to risk their lives, and someone with Soh’s temperament would have been nothing more than cannon fodder, long dead, had it not been for her schemes. Their gang’s rise to power was undeniably the result of her methods.

As this group emerged, the lone scavengers in the area panicked. Some, however, felt a spark of greed and began to shadow them, hoping to profit from the chaos. Regardless of what people thought of Soh, they followed suit once his group began to move; the stir caused by this so-called "Sakaar Idol Project" was simply too great. While they had seen vast wealth before—the Grandmaster possessed treasures far more opulent, and even the scraps discarded from the arena were richer than this—the contrast was stark. Unlike the exalted Grandmaster, this was some unknown, nameless small-timer. Such a contrast ignited the greed of everyone present.

From afar, I尔森 and his men witnessed the scene. After a fearful exchange of glances, three of them turned and fled into the wasteland without looking back. In the face of such a terrifying opponent, even being discovered as someone who worked for Joss would result in being caught in the crossfire. After all, on a Sakaar where there was no law, only the Grandmaster, human life was as cheap as grass.

Watching the three run, the others felt a momentary urge to follow, but seeing their boss still standing his ground—and even beginning to run toward Joss’s residence—they hesitated, eventually choosing to stay, each harboring their own private thoughts. "Boss I尔森, what should we do now?" a one-eyed man whispered, leaning in close.

I尔森’s expression was grim. Without looking back, he replied, "Remember, from now on, call me Astolfo. We’re taking a detour. We need to reach the... producer as quickly as possible and warn him. If we can just weather this storm, he might finally understand what kind of place Sakaar really is. We can discuss everything else after that." Having decided to follow Joss, I尔森 felt compelled to warn his boss to flee before colliding with these madmen.

"Yo, yo, yo? Who do I see here... isn't it the little beauty I尔森?"

Just as I尔森 was conferring with his men, an discordant voice cut in. Startled, they turned to find that Soh had somehow arrived right beside them. "So that’s how it is. You’re working for that guy now? That’s fantastic. Why don't you lead the way for us?" With a nonchalant flick of his wrist, an axe half the size of I尔森’s body was slammed into the ground beside him, while Soh’s men surrounded them with sneers. There was no doubt that if I尔森 dared to utter a single word of refusal, he and his brothers would be bleeding out on the spot with no hope of survival.

Soh wasn't interested in his answer; preventing him from warning Joss was enough. After a few mocking taunts, he ordered his men to seize I尔森 and his group, then roared with laughter as he continued toward Joss’s residence.

*Damn it... I warned him not to do this. Now he’s going to die, and I’m going to die here with him...* I尔森 thought, filled with bitter resentment. But it was of no use; the situation was dire, and his group of seven or eight unarmed men stood no chance against Soh’s band of cutthroats.

The journey back was short. Despite I尔森’s desperate wish for the road to stretch on forever, they arrived in just over ten minutes. Seeing the newly renovated house, Soh’s gang erupted into frantic cheers, inciting the trailing scavengers to a similar frenzy. I尔森 and his men, however, were pale as death. Their utility had reached its end; they would now serve only as prisoners, destined to be killed or sold off.

"Wait? What is that?" Suddenly, someone’s voice cut through the mania, drawing everyone’s attention to the house.

Outside the building, a slender, handsome young man was busy scribbling in a notebook. Behind him, several tentacles were hard at work, hanging people on an iron rack as if they were drying laundry. The man noticed the commotion, slowly looked up at Soh, and asked, "What are you here for?"

"Haha! You must be Joss, right? I came here..." Soh laughed up at the sky, resting his massive axe on his shoulder as he looked at Joss. "Big brother, are you still hiring?"