From death to fighting for his life. That was something he hadn't exactly been counting on. Nor had he been counting on being somewhere else entirely, though this place was at least somewhat less strange than the first one. He wasn't certain why he was expected to compete, quite certain he wasn't going to win -- but there were people running. Another thing he wasn't made out for, especially not in his current, mostly deathly-ill state.

The safest route by far would be to get out of anyplace there would be larger, faster, stronger people. Self=preservation was key, at least until he figured out what in hell's name he was doing here and what he was going to do. He skidded into a nearby booth, hoping the rotten wood and falling over door didn't obscure anyone intent on killing him.

"Hello?"