Cap now sits in the holding cell of all the enslaved gladiators in the arena.

Around him is a string of "rivals" from all over the galaxy.

Most were as reluctant participants as he was, while others came here as lost people, preferring a place where they could at least die with some sort of honor.

Thankfully, his suit still held up, though there was a new addition: a metal wristband around his left wrist.

Steve made ten marks on the metal sheet as the days passed. His hair had grown a little longer and hadn't been trimmed in some time.

He was a bit slovenly at the moment, as he didn't have any hygiene products or razors to use that he considered safe enough.

So he just let it grow. But it was a little...itchy.

"So you're the leader of the Avengers." The speaker was a male Togruta, sitting on the bench across from Steve Rogers.

“Sort of,” Steve admitted. “I usually lead the Avengers, but any of us can take charge when we see fit.

"How can that be done?"

Steve shrugged. "It is."

"Mixed feelings," the Togruta said with a shrug.

Steve said, “It’s not as bad as you think. It’s easy to do once you understand how the whole team works.

"If you say so."

"Rogers."

Cap glanced up at the approaching guard, banging on the railing.

"Hoo-hoo," the super soldier greeted cordially.

The Devaronian from before gave Captain America a bland look. "It's your turn."

He sighed and stood up again.

He is indeed very popular recently. But that doesn't mean it's a good thing. It's obvious that he doesn't have any real time off.

It’s not every day that you see someone knock Nexus out in the eyes of the audience.

"So, how about our favorite fighter?"

Steve said nothing, just walked forward without looking back.

"I must say you are better than many. But that will only make your death more enjoyable for the audience.

“I’m not going to die.

As he walked toward the entrance to the arena, Steve picked up several items that were placed on the wall along the way.

A wide variety of weapons and tools, he chose to carry a pair of sharp armor and a shield.

As much as he missed his Vibranium Frisbee, he had to make do with what he had available.

Things went by quickly after he was introduced to the roaring crowd. A few moments later, the entertainment began.

Steve Rogers is really questioning himself now.

But... How did he come to this world, this galaxy, this universe?

Captain America looked up in time to see a six-legged shadow looming over him.

He tightened the straps around his arms and donned his armor, ducking just in time to dodge a green claw's attack.

The super soldier rolled over and over, grabbing the rusted shield on his back while trying to avoid the attacks.

He raised his shield just in time, barely blocking another sharp limb that was about to pierce through the shield.

Steve swallowed hard as the sharp limb was so close, but after a moment, he pulled himself together. Steve felt the creature begin to struggle and retract its limb, and he used his increased strength and momentum to pull it down to the ground as it retracted its claws.

He now comes face to face with his current opponent.

It was a large crab-like crustacean with six legs, three eyes, and a pair of sharp teeth that looked like they would tear right through him.

That's why he immediately stabbed one of the sharp bracers he had into one of Acklay's eyes.

The crab-like creature screamed in pain and hit Steve in the stomach with one of its legs. He was sent back, crashing to the ground.

Steve quickly got up, gritted his teeth, and rushed towards the angry Acklay.

"oops!"

Steve split an Arklay.

……

Steve is getting more tired every day. If this continues, eventually they will wear him down, which will lead to his death.

Above the captive audience of these gladiatorial games, the ringleader of the place sat in his private box.

He is a human male with a fair amount of scarring on his features. His attire is rather extravagant as he has plundered these over the years and purchased the best he could get his hands on.

What was once a cheerful expression is now a bored one.

"Captain Rogers is quite competitive," said one of the chief's entourage.

"A good rival." The human said disdainfully.

"Why is that a problem?" Zabrak asked.

“In a few minutes he’ll kill everything we throw at him,” the human said with chagrin. “I thought we were getting a battered veteran, not some pseudo-Jedi super-soldier. That damn droid screwed us over.”

"But Boss, haven't we delivered the credits yet?"

"But where's the fun in all this?" the human asked in exasperation. "Danger? Fear of losing?

"We actually lost a lot of credits in various tournaments," said a blue-skinned female, holding a data pad. "A lot of people have been betting on Rogers to win. In fact, even more people have taken a lot of credits away from us because of this."

"That's the gambler's fault," Zabrak said with a wry smile.

The Colosseum boss tuned into the banter among the entourage, groaning in exhaustion after seeing Steve perform a spin kick.

The leader, with a tired expression, simply stated what happened next in his mind.

"Try the Corellian War Dogs."

In a flash, new creatures joined the fight, Steve saw them and immediately took a defensive stance.

All the while, he was unaware that one of the thousands of spectators in the stands was staring back at him.

It was a woman with magenta hair, green eyes, and a light skin tone that could be considered ghostly white.

She was wearing a rather form-fitting dress designed to exaggerate her voluptuous figure to the many wandering eyes.

The woman soon began to move around the crowd, pulling a communication device from her belt to make calls.

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