Oswald is seen, getting tended to by his servants, whose coloring looks more dark grey than black right now. His head being stitched up by them, bruises having cold presses pushed into them. He looks at the camera crew and smirks.

"Like you were told, Wish.

You're a mediocre singles competitor, compared to Black. You'll never get reach his heights, and you only bring him down.

And I'm still gonna bankroll your team, by the way. Because Black might need to find himself a teammate who is actually on his level. Even though you showed some fire tonight, you're a D+ player and Black is more a B+ player.

Also, how dare you, trying to get a pop from MY people? This is CHICAGO! If you think I was going to lose to you, no matter your ranking, then you'd be sorely fuckin' mistaken.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get showered up, then go home to my wife and kid."