Street Cultivation, page 9
Chapter 11: Bonus Melee
With powerful warriors charging from every side, Rick did the smart thing and leapt for cover.
There was no actual cover to be found in the arena, of course, but he managed to jump beside one of the fences before he was attacked. He noted with some discomfort that the entrance paths had all been closed off, trapping them all inside until the melee was done.
He realized he should have asked more about the rules and cursed himself under his breath. But during the previous round, he'd been given points separately for making it through and for being the last person standing. Though he didn't see a timer anywhere, the distinction implied it might be possible for more than one person to get through a melee still conscious.
Though as he watched the brawl spread out, he wasn't sure that he'd be one of them.
The huge man who looked like he should be brawling was throwing freaking lightning from his hands. Not just a flashy trick, either, but bolts that moved faster than anyone could possibly dodge. They didn't appear strong enough to take someone down, and there was some inaccuracy, yet they were sending people flying in all directions.
Others had pulled out their own tricks. More than a few threw aura spheres. Someone had lit up in green flame. Another had summoned a shield and sword that glowed a brilliant white. He didn't know who was doing it, but he heard the sound of aura gunshots. There was just too much going on at once...
So he focused on the woman swinging a spiked club directly at his head.
Rick dodged backward, but she came after him just as quickly. When he tried to dodge again he ended up stumbling, somehow turning it into a roll. By the time he got back to his feet she was right on top of him again, swinging her spiked club overhead, but he managed to grab her arms before she could properly build up momentum.
Not wanting to test her in direct combat, Rick instead redirected her momentum, sending her stumbling into others. One of the aura shooters caught sight of her and released a sphere. It was batted out of the air with the club and then the two of them were engaged, but Rick had no time to notice because he had to dodge away from bursts of flame coming in his direction.
It was just too much. Too many opponents, too many variables - the exact opposite of the tactical one-on-one matches he'd trained in. He didn't even know how many opponents he was facing and briefly wished that he'd counted, but now it was too late.
Then he felt a pain in his chest, followed by the sound of a gunshot.
He looked down numbly and saw a hole in his shirt, with a spot of blood behind it. For a moment he thought that he was dying, but realized that it had only been a low caliber aura pistol. If it had been firing lucrim bullets, he would be dead.
But there was no time to think about that, because a bolt of lightning shot through him the next moment. His defensive core couldn't begin to defend against it and he shook violently, overwhelmed by the pain. Before he could recover, someone hit him in the face and he slammed back into the filthy floor.
Lying there, Rick stared at the barbed wire spinning overhead. The smart thing to do was just stay down. While he wasn't outclassed in this fight, he had no superiority over any of his opponents, so he didn't have much of a chance in a chaotic melee like this.
However... his biggest problem was lack of experience, and he wasn't going to gain any experience lying on the floor. So Rick slowly managed to pull himself back to his feet.
As soon as he was up, someone targeted him again, but he managed to slump out of the way of the aura spheres. He devoted all his attention to trying to stay upright, tracking all his opponents and make sure that none of them could take him down.
The first thing he needed to do was categorize all of them, get an exact sense for all the threats he faced. That was easier now, as several others had gone down and not risen. Four physical brawlers, two aura shooters, the man with the lightning, the woman with the club, the flame guy...
Before he could focus too much, the melee enveloped him again and he was forced to defend himself. Yet it was getting a little easier. He didn't have eyes in the back of his head, but he was getting a sense for avoiding obvious openings. There was a rhythm even in the chaotic melee, so if he could just master it... yes, just a little more, then he could begin fighting back...
A bell rang and the remaining fighters slowed to a halt.
Though his body wanted to collapse on the ground, he ended up just standing there. Not to prove his endurance, but because he was stunned. The entire match had finished without him properly attacking anyone. That wasn't awful for his first battle, and it was probably a valid tactic, yet he found that he was disappointed in himself. Not good enough.
"Hey, not bad, man." Henry came up beside him, grinning. "I got my face bashed in during my first match and had to take like three days off. I think you should sit down, though."
"Yes... maybe sit down..." Rick numbly went with him, moving through one of the open doors to the bleachers.
He realized that the stands had partially filled during the match. Given how noisy the crowd was when no one was fighting, he was surprised that he hadn't noticed them. His focus had been entirely on the battle, though if he'd known he had such an audience, he might not have been able to ignore them and ended up choking.
"They had..." Rick shook his head sharply, trying to banish his confusion. "Everybody seemed to have invested heavily in an ability core. Is that standard here?"
"Oh, definitely. Makes you stand out from the crowd."
"Does that matter?"
"If you want to get picked out for the important matches, it definitely does." Henry pointed his chin toward the opposite side of the stands and Rick realized that there were seats beyond the bleachers. They were cloaked in shadows beyond the main lights, but enclosed viewing areas wrapped around half the arena. "Nobody important will be watching a random melee like this, but there's more than just fighting in the Underground. Lots of people bet on the matches, or even sponsor fighters. If you get lucky enough, you might get a patron."
"Huh. Does that happen often?"
"Most of us are grubbing along, just hoping for that." Henry sat back and sighed. "Honestly, I think I have a better shot of getting picked by one of those independent mystics. No, for me the Underground is just about earning a bit extra on the side."
"Fair enough." Rick mentally set such subjects aside and focused on what mattered. "How did I do? Do I get any kind of reward for participating?"
"Ah, yeah, let me get that set up for you."
Henry pulled out his own phone and showed him how to get the official app for the Underground. It was unsigned, and Rick was a bit nervous about putting it on his phone, but he figured that he didn't keep anything important on there anyway. Eventually it was all set up and he connected his account, soon being given a clear screen:
[Melee Performance:
Participation +3
Endured Match +7
Fall (x1) -1
Passive -1
Total Reward: 8
Cumulative Points: 11]
The system was easy to understand, at least. He assumed the "Passive" modifier was a penalty for not getting involved with the fight, but since it only cost him one point, that meant that just dodging was an entirely valid strategy. Not a satisfying one, and he resolved to do better, but this was about being successful, not about his pride.
"Ah, yeah, lost a point for not attacking." Henry read over his shoulder and nodded knowingly. "You can get -2 or -3 for that, though, so it's not as bad as it could be. Anyway, what you want to do is get 100 points as quickly as possible, so you're not thrown into the worst matches. Believe me, these melees are chaotic, but they're gentle compared to the other options."
"That's nice, but you never answered my more important question. Do I get paid for this? You can't exactly buy food with 'points'."
"For that, you'll need to talk to Alger. I mean, usually someone else handles it, but-"
At that moment Alger appeared beside them, grinning down. "I usually try to greet the new arrivals! Come right this way, into my office... these stands can be so noisy, can't they?"
The crowds parted when he strode away, so Rick and Henry followed after him. They left the main arena and returned to the office-like area. It was surprisingly quiet in comparison, enough that he realized that his ears were still ringing from the fight. He'd need to be careful not to end up with long term damage from all this.
"That wasn't bad!" Alger sat down on the edge of his desk and pulled his legs up into crossed position. "A bit cowardly, but I liked that you were trying to get a read on your opponents. I think I do like you a bit after all. Would you like another little gift?"
"Uh... no thank you." Rick didn't need to see Henry's nervous expression to know that he did not want to see what Alger would force him into next. The owner of the Underground sighed in disappointment, but nodded as if he'd been expecting it.
"You already got the program on your phone, yes? And you'll get your money from one of my associates. I just wanted to welcome you." Alger hopped to his feet with one hand sweeping to his chest. "There's so little space left for a noble warrior in our society! Oh, there's lucrim left and right, but where's the soul of it all?
"There was a time when combat schools ruled the world, and powerful individuals could change the course of history! We were better men and women then, seeking power and respect above all else, living for the thrill of combat! Now... now the bureaucrats rule the world and control the lucrim. Fights like these are the last refuge of the true warrior!"
Rick just stared at him, unsure how to take such a speech. He decided that nodding would be a good idea.
"So glad you agree! I really do think you have the spark of a warrior in you... try not to get killed, will you? That would be inconvenient for all of us." With that, Alger hopped up and sped out of the office, leaving both of them sitting uncertainly.
After a pause, Rick cleared his throat. "Is he always like that?"
"Yeah." Henry sighed and slumped back into his chair. "From what I've seen, anyway. He liked my first melee too, but I don't know how often he-"
"A lot." The gruff voice interrupted them and they turned to see the biker from before entering the room. "He gets depressed if he goes more than a day without finding someone to get excited about. You did okay, kid, but trust me: you want to get to 100 points as soon as possible so Alger can't throw you into the meat grinder."
Though Rick wanted to ask about that, he wasn't sure where to start. Before he could, the biker opened a lucrim-reinforced and ether-enchanted safe on the wall and pulled out several wrapped bundles of cash. Rick felt a moment of pleased surprise before the biker tugged out only a few bills and handed them to him.
"There's your money. Aside from that..." He flicked a crimson marble into the air and Rick barely managed to make his body move in time to catch it. "That's all you get. See you next time, kid."
It was enough. Rick rolled the marble slowly between his hands, feeling the lucrim within. Roughly 250, which was small change to most true warriors, but significant for him. The money might help, but the raw lucrim was what would let him get rid of the aura leeches. He was tempted to try to apply it to them immediately, but realized that this might not be the best place for that.
"Come on." Henry tugged his arm to pull him up. "They're pretty casual about things around here, but if we lurk around the offices they'll get mad. But good job today."
"Thanks, Henry. And thanks for bringing me here."
"Not a problem, man. You want to stick around and see all the other fights? I wasn't going to fight because I have to work tomorrow, but this is what I do a lot of nights."
It would be good preparation for potential future matches, but Rick found that he was too tired. Even if he hadn't taken a debilitating injury, he'd taken a serious beating. "Maybe another time. I'm wiped out for today."
"Yeah, that makes sense. Come on, let's go get something to drink. I'll buy for you this time, but after this, we're competitors. No friends in the Underground, huh?"
Rick wasn't sure how to respond to that. He gripped the marble tightly in his hand and hoped that he hadn't made a mistake.
Chapter 12: Special Event
Participating in an underground fighting tournament seemed like it should be the sort of thing that would revolutionize someone's life, but in the end not much changed.
Rick worked the fights into his schedule as if they were just an extracurricular activity. He developed a three day cycle: fight on the first day, training exercises to solidify his gains on the second, recovery on the third. Occasionally he extended the latter two steps as necessary, since he absolutely needed to avoid taking a permanent injury.
So far he hadn't been in serious danger. It seemed that many of the main melee contestants were just looking for a friendly fight. That wouldn't stop them from smashing you in the face or shooting you, but they weren't out to kill. A few times they'd ganged up on him and he'd gone down, but he'd only needed to use some of his winnings for healing with no long term harm done.
Of course, he kept hearing hints of much bloodier matches. There had definitely been blood left in the arena sometimes when he arrived, and based on the crowds, he could easily imagine more dangerous events. But so far, he'd played it safe, content with the smaller rewards available.
After the first, he'd competed in six general melees. That had earned him 1500 lucrim, a decent amount of extra cash, and 51 points. He'd intended to put all the lucrim toward getting rid of the leeches, but instead invested much of it into his combat cores, using the justification that he needed to get stronger if he wanted to keep earning. It might just be an excuse because he was getting more of a taste for combat, though.
In any case, he didn't regret another use of his winnings: doing a little better for himself and Melissa. When she aced a set of tests, he decided to splurge and they ordered out from a decent Chinese place. Both of them sat on the floor of their living room eating out of their to-go boxes when Melissa abruptly looked up at him seriously.
"Where'd you get the money for this, Rick?"
He didn't hesitate a second. "Selling meth."
"Be serious."
"Fine, I got it by taking meth. It's a very complex scheme."
That got a bit of a smile from her, but she didn't joke back, so he knew she was serious. Rick examined his sister for a moment, realizing that there was really no question as to what he should do. Obviously it was best to be honest with his own family. That didn't mean he couldn't stretch it out more, though.
"In all seriousness, I've been selling my body. A randy old rich woman-"
"Richard Hunter!" Melissa folded her arms and pretended to scowl. "If you don't stop messing around, I shall be very cross!"
He paused for a moment, finishing his current mouthful, then set down his box. "I'm fighting in a place called the Underground. So far it's been mostly safe, but I'm not sure that will last. I didn't want to worry you unnecessarily, but I get that it was a bit of a dick move to keep it secret. Sorry."
"Oh, is that all?" Melissa sat back and began chopsticking more food into her mouth. "I saw that you were in bad shape some days after you came back, so I was worried that you were getting into something drug-related."
"Seriously?"
"Not, like, dealing heroin or something. But I figure people who sell lucrim-related drugs probably need muscle to do things, and my imagination got away from me thinking about how you might have convinced yourself you had to get involved. But underground fights? That's not such a big deal."
"I'm glad you're taking it well."
"I mean, now I do kind of want to go with you and see you fight, but I'm guessing there's no way that you'd let me do that, huh?"
"Absolutely not." Rick spoke more sharply than he'd intended, but didn't apologize. He tried to never pull rank with his sister or act like a parent, but he didn't want that idea going anywhere. "It's been safe so far, but I'm honestly in over my head, Melissa. I need to get stronger and learn a lot more about how the Underground works before I feel remotely safe there."
"That's fine, I get it. I wish you didn't have to do this, but..." Melissa drifted off and he stayed silent to give her time to think.
But some time later, when she set down her box, he saw her hands trembling violently. Rick immediately pushed his food aside and moved closer to her, checking her forehead. No fever, but she was trembling all over and he could feel her body's lucrima destabilizing.
"I-I'm okay." Her words were barely a whisper. "This is... a m-m-minor one..."
"We should still take it seriously." Rick leapt up to fetch her medication and brought her a pill with a glass of water. Her hands shook when she took the pill, but she managed it without spilling much water. He considered taking her to rest, but she resisted when he started to pick her up.
"No... I was having fun..."
His instincts told him to carry her anyway, but she did know her own body better than he did. Besides, the shivering seemed to be subsiding, even before the medicine would have taken effect. Just to be sure, he passed some of his lucrim into her body. It disappeared into a void, as usual, but the emptiness seemed weaker than before.
There'd been a time when he'd hoped that small incidents like this meant that she was getting better. Rick no longer held much hope of that, he was just glad that the danger had passed. Melissa scooted a bit so that she could lean back against the couch, then reached for her food.
"Gimme." He passed it to her as he sat down beside her, their backs against the couch as they faced the dark television. Melissa shoveled food into her face for a bit before speaking up again. "Have you learned big fancy techniques like they always have in the movies?"
Rick chuckled. "You're joking, but there's actually more of that than I thought. The fights ultimately make money by attracting an audience, so I guess it makes sense."
