Madsen had no intention of eating dirt like Miller did.
The gulf in experience between a nobody and a level two was clear. Madsen was light on his feet, and immediately started to control the range between us by dancing back and forth from me. He’d punctuate each sway of his body with a speculative jab from long range, again designed to keep me away from my own attack range. There was one flaw with his strategy. What Madsen didn’t know was that my stats were far beyond that of any normal human. I could last longer, punch harder, and take more hits. Trying to tire me out by keeping a gap wasn’t going to work. I could go for as long as I needed to.
My biggest challenge was shifting the fight in my favour. William was right, knocking someone out cold doesn’t depend on their HP as much as you might think. It was entirely within the realm of possibility that Madsen could knock me silly and win the round; he just needed to land some solid hits and send my brain running for the exit. I’d be down some pretty good money if I didn’t win.
His ability forced me to use a high-risk strategy. I needed to get into his space and fight back, I couldn’t let him control the arena forever. I tucked my head and stepped in after one of his punches. I threw one at his gut, landing a glancing blow that didn’t steal much breath. Though it did tell him that staying back and playing it safe wasn’t going to be easy.
“Not gonna’ lose to someone like you,” he hissed. That hit hurt his ego more than anything else, because he flew into a flurry of more ill-intentioned strikes aimed at my head and stomach. I blocked as best I could, using my elbows and forearms to frustrate his attempts. He’d graze my skin, one even leaving a small cut against my left cheek that started to bleed down my face.
I studied him closely, trying to learn his tells and strategy. He’d been practising for this. There weren’t any easy openings to exploit like with Miller before. I decided that my best course of action was to make things trickier for him. I started to back away towards the edge of the arena where the fence was located. Hands, eyes and legs poked through the slats, clawing and pawing at whatever came close.
He tried to hit me with a right hook. I tucked myself under his armpit and wrapped my arms around his stomach, using my strength to flip him around and push him up against the wooden barrier. He threw an elbow at my back to make me break the hold, but that wasn’t where I was weakest. I thrust my shoulder into his stomach and squeezed against the wood plank behind him with all of my might. The old wood started to fray under my fingertips.
I could feel him hitting my back and shoulders, but I wasn’t budging until I was ready. I waited patiently for his fight to die down, before stepping back and beginning my counterattack. He’d tired himself out trying to escape my hold – and how he had to try and stop me from hitting him in the jaw and abdomen.
I unleashed my own flurry of punches, not giving him a moment to rest and cover. The crowd around us was screaming in our faces. Egging us one to fight even harder. I got some good hits in, bruising his left eye socket and leaving a welt on his cheek. Madsen decided to give me a taste of my own medicine, wrapping his arms around my neck and wrangling me until my back was facing the fence. We wrestled for a minute straight, trying to free ourselves from the position without giving up position. Just when Madsen thought he had me locked down, I threw up my right leg into a flying knee.
The strike landed squarely on his chest and arms, and sent him flying back into the middle of the arena, arms and legs flailing as he lost purchase on the dirt floor. He rolled over several times before coming to a dead stop. I hadn’t tempered my strength properly again. I’d surely fractured a bone or two. If I did, he didn’t show it. He climbed back to his unsteady feet as soon as he could. There was a hideous red welt across his chest and forearms where I’d struck him. The crowd was torn between shocked silence and bloodlust fuelled frenzy. I’d bruised him really badly.
“What the hell!” he gasped. “You’re a monster!”
“Not so cocky now, are you?”
He put up his dukes again as I ran at him with killing intent. A left, a right, a left, a body blow. I continuously battered him with punches. Each time I did so he slipped further down the road to defeat, each attack made his life harder. Thus, the fight came to an end, not with a bang, but with a sudden collapse.
Madsen couldn’t go on for any longer. I whiffed his nose with another punch and he fell down to the ground like his strings had been cut. The crowd went completely berserk, another upset victory for me. The referee stepped in to stop me from kicking him while he was down. I wasn’t planning on it – the guy looked like minced beef already. He was swollen so much that he didn’t even look like the guy who stepped into the ring with me
“Here’s your winner, Ren Kageyama! Another shocking upset! What an incredible fight!”
I decided against any further theatrics and retreated to my side of the arena. Vincent was waiting for me with a shit-eating grin; “That was incredible, you blew Madsen halfway to Blackwake with that knee!” I looked back to Madsen, who was being attended to by several people. They cleaned down his wounds and made sure that everything was in the right place, before hoisting him back up to his feet and back to the opposite pen. The crowd applauded his effort politely.
“Good thing it looked so convincing. They’ll be betting on me next time.”
Vincent nodded, “Right. Momentum’s building on your side now. They’ll get a rush of blood to the downstairs region and go all in on you.” He showed me the ten silver bars that he’d gotten from our combined bet. “We can use these in the next fight,” he declared.
“Madsen was tough, if the next guy is even better I don’t think my dirty tricks will work on them.”
“That’s fine. Either way we come out on top. The last spot I managed to get you is versus Beckett Som.”
“Beckett Som?”
“Yeah, he’s the real deal. Level three boxer from Pascen; he’s a regular with a positive win record. I think he might be a bit much for you but the crowd doesn’t know that. I had a nosey at the early odds and everyone thinks that you’re going to win.”
“I’m taking a nap.”
“Yeah, that’s right. Make it look convincing, take a fall.”
“I don’t think I’ll need to – this guy’s going to box rings around me.”
Vincent reached into his pocket for another cigarette, “Anything can happen. You might just be telling me a bunch of lies, I didn’t even expect you to beat Madsen. That’s why I’m having you put your own money up.”
“I got that,” I grunted. He didn’t need to explain it to me again. I licked my wounds and tried to rest up for the next round. This was a lot of damn effort for a pile of papers. I needed Vincent and Adam to trust me though – and taking a few hard knocks didn’t cost me anything except discomfort.
Onto the next.
“Back already?” Lilian was enjoying a busy night with many merrymakers visiting her tavern for a drink. The entire bar turned to face the unusual duo who passed through the front door. Cali and Tahar took a seat at the bar.
Cali kept her voice down, “Yes. I successfully confirmed Adam’s identity. Now I must create a plan to capture him.”
Lilian handed a beer to an impatient customer while she spoke, “It isn’t going to be that easy. Those Well’s Street Boys have hundreds of members by now, and not a single person with good sense between them.”
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“I will need to find an expert in the area to give me more information. Perhaps a map will allow me to plan my route.” Cali bowed her head, “Apologies for the dry subject matter.”
“You’re better company than some of these sad sacks,” Lilian bemoaned, “That guy over there gave me an entire sob story about not being paid enough for a job he did. Does he think that’s the kind of thing that a girl wants to hear?”
Cali followed Lilian’s finger to the back corner of the bar, where a familiar face was currently several pitchers deep into an all-out booze-fest. Ryan McDermott, the jovial fellow who they had run into while investigating the suburbs. He was drinking alone, and his cheeks were blooming bright red. He could barely sit up straight in his seat.
“Oh, him. He must have found his target eventually.”
“You know him? Forgive me for saying this, but he doesn’t seem like your type.”
“We are merely acquaintances, and I do not desire to speak with him while intoxicated.”
Cali didn’t hate Ryan. Hate was such a strong word, and strong emotions weren’t Cali’s forte. She found him irritating at worst. There were people in the world who didn’t hide their emotions so deeply like she did, she understood that. In fact, she was a little envious of people who found it easy to speak in such strong terms.
“See anything interesting during the trip?” Lilian asked, making idle conversation while she worked.
“It appears that Ren has gotten entangled in some dirty business again.”
Lilian wiggled her eyebrows and growled like a tiger, “Oh? Is that the case?”
“Your innuendo is noted and not appreciated.”
Lillian laughed, “I love you sometimes. Nobody else in the world reacts to me like this.”
Cali elaborated, “Ren was selected as a fighter - seemingly to earn money from bets.”
Lilian shrugged, “If he’s involved with them it probably means they’re being fixed. Is he any good?”
“He has no skill, and inhuman strength.”
“Jeez, what a hopeless guy.”
Cali knew that Ren probably had another reason to participate. He didn’t whittle away time getting into brawls like a depressed workman. “I will leave him to it. I must conclude this job before he decides that we are moving on.”
“Right, so he’s in charge?”
“Yes. That was one of the conditions when we started working together.” That time felt like a lifetime away now. Her perspective on Ren had changed radically over those months on the road together. Boorish, irritable, oddly moralistic. He was an interesting man who found himself in interesting places.
“I swear, you’ve got something for this guy,” Lilian insisted, “If you could get hearts in your eyes, you would.”
Cali felt like an outsider looking in on herself all over again. She shook her head and pulled down on the brim of her hat to hide her face from view. “I can’t tell. You know that. Ren said he didn’t want to do anything with me already.”
Lilian did a spit-take, “He said what?”
“He stated that my emotional state was not conducive to a romantic relationship. Whether that is the truth of the matter, or merely a reaction from his prickly exterior which demands that his inferior self not sully such a beautiful woman with his affections is unknown to me.”
Lilian sighed and rubbed her brow, “You’re going to make me turn grey, I swear to the gods.”
Cali suddenly had a sobering thought – she needed to get back to the hotel before Ren returned from his night at the fighting ring. Surely, he’d have many questions for them if he found out that they were okay. Cali didn’t want to face questions. For her, the roundabout effort of hiding from Ren was easier than answering them.
“We should be going. We have an early start tomorrow.”
Lilian started to pour another drink for a patron, “Yeah, yeah. Don’t be a stranger, you or your tall friend.”
Cali stiffly waved goodbye and headed back out onto the streets. She had come to ask Lilian for more information but had gotten side-tracked and asked nothing. She mentally berated herself for going off-topic. She needed to find a map of the district where Adam’s gang enjoyed control.
But first, they needed to return to the hotel and act innocent.