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Salem knew that his arms wouldn't hold out forever, and the risk of him being swatted down like a fly from one of the other competitors grew greater with every second that passed. Still, he fought ever-vigilantly to keep his hold on the briefcase, despite the man in the rafter's attempts at slowing Salem down. But, as the cable started to swing, Salem started to sway alongside it, using the momentum to bring his lower-half up and around the handle of the briefcase - using his legs to clutch the cable to both free up his hands while also elevating his body to help prevent being struck down. In this inverted position, Salem would fight to get the briefcase free as he stared down at the canvas and the bodies sprawled across it, knowing that the second he pulled his prize down, he'd be taking a pretty nasty fall.

Salem's legs were wound tight around the handle of the briefcase, but that wouldn't stop the resurgent Jacob Griffin from trying to scale a ladder and pull the rookie down. With his hands free, Salem was managing to protect himself in a fashion that most people dangling in this position wouldn't have the luxury of, but that didn't mean he could defend himself from everything. As the stranger in the rafters let go of the cable, Salem would suddenly drop a few feet, inadvertently causing him to shove Jacob from the sudden decent as he felt the edges of the metal case digging into his knees. Gasping out in pain from the jolting sensation, Salem tried to shove Jacob off the ladder with the momentum from the drop before trying to work at the clasp once again.

The crowd was captivated as Salem hung desperately from the briefcase, his perilous dangle above the ring having felt like hours to the eager eyes of the spectating crowd. The rookie's face was becoming thick with crimson, blood having run to his head from being inverted the last several minutes. But regardless, Salem continued trying to force the briefcase down, digging his head into the side while trying to tear handle from case with the leverage of his upper and lower bodies working against one another.

Then, like a javelin of steel, the ladder Ryan threw flew up towards the sky and struck Salem square in the skull, the impact momentarily causing Salem's eyes to roll back. But, Ryan hadn't bothered to think what the force of his throw would do, the strength of his strike having carried over into the briefcase as Salem's head was wedged right against it. His body starting to go limp, the handle finally caved under the stress and force applied to it, snapping at one side and causing the Next-Generation Sensation to plummet helplessly towards the mat.

He could feel the ground rushing to meet him, the wind sweeping across his skin as he fell, barely conscious enough to keep his grip on the case as he fell from grace. Still, it didn't take much brainpower for him to realize he was in for a rough landing and likely a rude awakening as the sickening thud of Salem's frame smacking canvas echoed through the arena.

Salem's mind was numb, lost in a sea of blackness from the bone-rattling fall that had drawn cheers from the crowd, many of them caught up in the moment to realize they were supporting a man who'd drawn their ire as of late. Not even their enthusiastic shouts could reach the wounded rookie in his present state, the noise simply a dull roar that felt more like a blood rush from his stabilizing circulation.

The briefcase was in his wrapped-up forearms, he'd managed to endure the gauntlet and come out victorious, but the worst was yet to come as the enraged Ryan drew forth a chair and stabbed it into the lad's ankles. A lightning bolt of pain shot up Salem's spine, causing the Charismatic Calamity to flop a moment from the shock. Gasping in surprised anguish, he held tight to the case while his assailant began the assault.