Name: Alex Keaton

Epithet: Silent Lightning

Age: 23

Height :5'10

Weight: 72kg

Kengan Record: 7 wins, 0 losses

Appearance: a young englishman, dirty blonde hair and blue-grey eyes. Notably has a large plaster cover over his throat, the sign of a laryngectomy. The surgery has left Alex without the ability of speech, which he compensates for with sign language or writing.

Backstory:

5 years ago:

A Prodigy middleweight boxer, Keaton could've taken the boxing world by storm. A natural striker, his lightning fast frame could deliver thunderous blows far above his weight class, and coupled with his explosive evasions and an impregnable peekaboo style guard, he would have been the undisputed champion, with no room for doubt.

Alex coughed up into the gym bathroom sink, frowning at the blood.

"did he really hit that hard? Wow, I thought we were only sparring..." he said, swilling his mouth and washing the sink out.

4 years ago:

After the surgery, the doctors told Alex he should get plenty of rest, and concentrate on his recovery. Boxing was out of the question, and even if they allowed it, no organisarion would let a boxer recovering from a laryngectomy.

"Mr. Keaton, you should know that even though we've removed as much of the tumor as possible, the sensitive location means that there is the possibility of further growth. There are support groups that can..."

Alex let the doctors voice fade out as he stared at the wall behind him. His throat itched, but they said that should subside. He wonders if he can get out of the hospital early, get some roadwork in. Roadwork always helps, gives him time to himself. He could use that right now.

2 years ago:

Keatons grandfather was a phenomenal lightweight in his day, and despite being 85, still held himself like the champion. It was a poorly kept secret he had been involved in illegal fighting clubs and underground, back-alley organisations, something that had ultimately made him a pariah in the sports world. It had also left him with more than a few friends in high (and low) places, something he never had much use for until now.

Alex threw wild hooks into the heavy sandbag, bouncing it on its chain. A powerful right send it flying up, and as it swung back down, he caught it with a left straight strong enough to rip the bag, burying his arm elbow deep in sand.

"Alex! A word?" Stanley Keaton called, crossing the home gym to his grandson. Alex pulled his arm out, slapping his hand over the hole in a vain attempt to stop the sand pouring out.

"I know its been a bit rough, with your... you know?"* he trailed off, looking at the padded plaster on Alex's neck, the hole where his voice box used to be. He was looking thinner than he should, his training had trailed off after he was declared unfit for competition. Hadn't lost that special gift though, the fighting knowledge Stanley had drilled into him over the years...

"Well, anyway..." He kept on, blinking away his reverie "I got in touch with an old friend, and he knows some foreigners who have hold private fights, and it's all very hush-hush, but I think they'd be willing to let you compete!"

Alex blinked, removing his hand from the torn, deflated bag.

"Don't get my hopes up, Grandad." He signed. "Who's really going to let me fight now?"

"Well, heres his number, call him yourself and find out." Stanley replied, handing him a small card with a name and phone number on it. One side had a name in English, John Herbert, and the other had a single Japanese kanji: Kengan.

"Now you call that, and I'm going to whip you back into shape! Remember, you started boxing because you wanted to do what I could do, and this could give you that drive again!"

As if to prove his point, Stanley approached the limp, deflated bag. His right arm blurred, and he drove his fist through the leathery material before it had time to move in response to the impact.

"You're good now, I want you to get better."

Now.

The massive tattooed man fell to the floor, unconscious before his back hit the ground, heavy bruises peppering his body and face, one arm bent completely the wrong way. Above him, Alex Keaton raised a fist in triumph, sweating buckets, grinning from ear to ear. He was back.

Personality: Alex is a friendly sort, seeing fighting as a fun thing to do, a test of his skill and training, rather than a life or death struggle. He holds no grudges towards other Gladiators above a professional rivalry, seeking to get along with them to make his life easier. This easygoing, almost pacifistic nature is likely the result of his brush with cancer.

Fighting style: Alex is a world class counter-infighter, using superior speed and power to force opponents to make a move, and responding with powerful counters. His peekaboo style affords him a strong defence, letting him weather blows his footwork can't avoid, breaking fown his enemies with pinpoint jabs and short uppers.

"Special technique: Living Statue"

Alex has an uncanny amount control over his joints, and has learnt to tighten them to an insane degree. The benefit of this is that he can tense them at the moment one of his strikes impacts, and throw his bodies full weight into the attack, turning every punch a kind of pseudo fa-jin, making even a simple jab far heavier than his weight class suggests.

Defensively, Keaton can use this stiffening to weather blows without flinching. From the perspective of the opponent, they are fighting a man who feels like he is made from stone.

"Special technique: Lightning bolt"

Taught to him by his grandfather, the Thunderbolt is a loose jab not unlike a flicker jab, but performed in tandem with rotating the legs, core, back, and shoulders, snapping the arm out with immense speed. Alex added his own natural ability to tense his joints to the punch, meaning this blow hits with as much force as possible. More than one opponent has been struck by this and not even see the arm move.

"Special technique: Thunder bolt"

An evolution of the Lightning bolt, the Thunder bolt keeps the same technique of mounting the rotations through the body to build up an unbelievable level of speed and power, but this blow is thrown as a straight, allowing for even greater speed and power. The downside is the punch is relatively obvious, and is suited for a counter, making use of the opponents loss of balance or lowered guard for maximum results.

On the side of weaknesses, Alex lacks experience with grappling. Styles like wrestling, judo and aikido all present challenges, forcing him to work hard at turning the fight into a striking match, where he excels. Similarly, he has little to no training with kicks, instead using his legs for boxings signature footwork.