Inside a building looking like an ancient colloseum. The only difference is all the high tech hanging around. And the spectators don’t have to sit on stone.
“Ladies and gentlemen, enjoy Z3R0 M15535 vs The Shredder. Let the blood flow!” the stadium speaker announces.
In front of me stands my opponent. He has a beard and is also well-built like me.
“Three!” the stadium speaker counts down.
“Hey looser! Don’t you think this countdown is shit as well? I mean, why should I have to wait until you pee your pants to beat your f*ckin ass?” I provoke him.
I laugh at him. I can see his legs shaking.
Apparently only winning a single match of the tournament is already awarded with 1000 points.
This is free money!
Slowly and carefully I approach my opponent.
He stays still.
If heaty guy hadn’t surprised me back then, I would have flattened him.
I can’t let Mr. Beard catch me off guard with some stupid ability.
One step further and I can-
I throw my right hand at him. A feint. He stays unfazed.
In circles I slowly decrease our distance.
He’s calm. Are his legs really shaking or is it just my imagination?
I make one big step towards him, duck and go for an uppercut.
My hand stops. He caught it just before it hit him. A slight move.
I ignore his unusual way of fighting and twist my body to the left and beat him into his back.
He blocked it.
Dammit. His reaction is insane.
Right now, both of my hands are blocked.
Somewhere in the middle of the spectators.
“Guys, you think new guy will win?” I hear a person asking.
“Hmm, considering he really doesn’t have an ability… probably not,” another person responds.
“Not only that, he’s way too full of himself. Look what he’s doin,” a third person, a woman, adds.
“He was too rash. That’s the end I guess,” the first person concludes.
‘We’ll see about that,’ I think upon hearing them.
Even though I can’t use my arms, I still have my legs. I’m a wrestler after all. Not a boxer.
I kick him in his knee pit.
He makes a dull sound as he falls on his knees freeing my hands.
He did react instantly, but he couldn’t evade it.
Next, I throw a parade of punches at him, every few times a feint or a kick.
He blocks every single attack perfectly, but still takes one step back.
I’m stronger than him.
“Haha! I’m not even trying and you fall back? Don’t waste my time. If you won’t come at me, just forfeit!” I provoke him again.
His face starts growing some wrinkles.
“Oh, did I make you angry? Sucks to be too scared of attacking me. Haha, what a looser!” I make fun of him.
I did it!
He charges at me.
“Stop! Don’t fall for that!” some girl beneath the crowd screams.
I give her an angry gaze.
Luckily my opponent didn’t seem to hear her and tries to punch my head.
I block him, duck and punch him into his stomach.
He throws up blood. But he cunningly captured both my hands while getting hit.
Once again I try to kick him, but this time he blocks it.
I try to escape his grip with sudden movements, but it doesn’t work. He instantly reacts perfectly.
If he reacts too fast, maybe this is his ability?
I try one more time.
Mr. Beard twists my arm, forcing me to turn my back at him.
I kick back like a horse.
He suddenly lets go of my hand and grabs my leg.
A moment later my nuts are crushed by a left kick.
I let out a scream of pain.
This isn’t legal!
He follows it up with a kick into my side.
I choke and crash onto the ground.
He laughs, “Only words, no actions. Typical.”
He stamps onto my back.
Imagine getting your fingers cut off one by one with a rusty small sword. That’s the pain I feel right now.
It’s pain on a level where a normal human would have already fainted.
He continues to kick me and beat me into my face while I’m laying on the ground.
“Shameless bastard,” I hiss.
He answers laughing, “Shameless? Haha, let’s see how long you can keep tal-”
I topple him over and kick him with all my might into his face in a split second.
I grin, “I’m a wrestler. This pain is nothing.”
He stops moving.
I stay still and wait for him to get up.
Five seconds later.
“Shit, why would you kick me there? Seriously!” I shout at Mr. Beard who’s still not moving.
Another four seconds later.
‘Does this guy have a concussion? Although he dampened my kick with both his hands…’
Another four seconds later.
I kick some sand corns creating clouds of dusk.
Is this shit over already?
I touch my crushed nuts.
What? They aren’t crushed after all? And the pain is nearly gone as well.
Bells are ringing three times signaling the match is over.
“And the winner of this exciting match is ‘The Shredder'”
People are cheering and clapping.
I hear random people talking about this match.
“This guy, he didn’t even use an ability. Seems like the opponent sucked hard time.”
“OMG he really did it. I thought for sure it was over when he was getting trampled on.”
“The new guy really did it. What was his name? Kanus?” a familiar voice asks surprised.
“Clementine. His name isn’t Kanus. It’s Kanos,” another familiar voice corrects her.
“Wonderful, now he can fully pay me back his over priced mittens with interest,” a third familiar voice rejoices.
I spot my three mates, Clementine, Kenny and Austin among the spectators.
So that was why he willingly consented to buying me a new pair. I judged this bastard too early.
Another random person complains, “What a pervert, he touched his thing in the middle of the fight.”
I think shocked, ‘What da f-‘
Suddenly I realize something.
How come I hear them so clearly from so far away?
After the match.
“Oh, how come you’re uninjured after all of that?” Clementine asks me.
I shrug, “Beats me.”
I scan my body for any injuries, but can’t find a single bruise.
After that I ascertain relieved, “This is one convenient arena, healing you after the fight. I wish we had that in the real world.”
Clementine throws an irritated gaze at me.