'WHY DID YOU DO THAT?!'
Slamming a fist into the table and nearly punching a hole through it in the cafeteria, Pethant confronted the normal-looking man who always seemed like he is fixing the camera somehow. He is now refitting the electronic components as well as the brand new lenses carefully, and he paid no mind to the ruckus going on around him.
'And what's with the deal with broken cameras.....' Pethant growled, looking down at the man who's total focus appeared to have been on the ancient device. He isn't that much of a dick to physically interrupt someone when it comes to camera maintenance, as he knew first hand how much effort and work goes into it.
Instead, he sat down right across from the man and simply stared at him. He WILL get the answer he wanted, and the question is a matter of when.
There are not many missions today judging from the number of cameramen relaxing in the tier 2-4 cafeteria. Most of the eyes are locked onto the two of them near the center of the room, and Pethant slowly came to the embarrassing realization of what he has down to the seemingly harmless man in front of him.
Finally, the fitting is complete as the man placed the replaced components in a plastic bag. Then, he took off his goggles and looked up directly into the soul of Pethant.
All of a sudden, immense pressure weighed on Pethant's body from all directions as if he has suddenly been thrown into the endless depths of the ocean. His lungs already crushed and crumbled underneath all that force.
Swallowing just barely, Pethant forced himself to breathe.
However, the rush of blood into his head nearly caused him to faint. Gripping tightly into the table and crushing the layers of composite materials in his hand, Pethant forced himself to focus and return the gaze. However, his vision is also blurring at the moment, as all he could hear in the noisy cafe is his own struggling heartbeat.
The man in front of him smiled, and all of that pressure is gone.
'How did you know it was my footage? Was it because I was the only other person there?'
'SHIT! That's right!' Pethant said loudly, pointing his finger excitedly at the man in front of him. Then, his face turned red as obviously that wasn't the reason he figured it out. Scratching his head with awkward laughter to bridge the silence, he looked to the side and murmured underneath his breath, 'The only way footage of that quality and style can be made is through anything with an analog component.....'
'Oh?' The man in front seemed genuinely surprised by what Pethant said. So this brute did do some homework before coming here.
Now that everything has calmed down, and he no longer felt like he is about to have a heart attack, Pethant finally got a good look at this strangely ordinary man in front of him. He is wearing a white t-shirt that revealed his slim frame underneath. He had a short buzz cut with black hair and an ordinary-looking face. His eyes are medium-sized, and his nose flat with a barely visible ridge.
If this ain't a base video game character model come to life, Pethant doesn't know what is.
He placed his hand over the trusty camera on the table and said, 'you are correct, I did capture the footage with the predecessor of this one.'
'Pre.....predecessor?' Pethant blinked a few times, trying to understand the man's words.
'Ah yes.' He said, 'but my work is complete here. See you later.'
'WAIT!' Pethant said, reaching out with his hand, 'I am not done yet.....Why did you take the footage and still gave me the credit?'
'Why not?' He replied without looking back as he stood up and walked away, 'I wasn't the first one they asked anyway.'
'But why did you not claim it?' Pethant chased after him, picking up the suit with him and dragging it alone, 'is it pity? Did you pity me?'
'?'
The man's blanket reaction says it all, and finally, all of the rage boiled over from within Pethant.
'...I CHALLENGE YOU TO COMBAT!' Pethant declared, drawing the attention of the entire cafeteria. That declaration alone killed the rest of the conversation, 'If I win, you owe me an explanation.'
'What if I win?' The man asked, turning back halfway and looked at Pethant in the corner of his eye.
'I.....will do anything for you!' Pethant yelled out, as all of the eyes in the entire cafeteria are focused on them.
'Sounds like a shit deal.'
'PLEASE! I...I need to know...' Lowering his voice, Pethant thought back to all of the obstacles on this journey of his.
He needed to know if he really had it, if he would only ever remain as the Discount, the one incapable of being an actual cameraman. He has given up on one of his dreams before, and if his second dream is to shatter right in front of him, he at least wanted to know why.
Pethant plead, and for some strange reason, the other cameraman in the cafeteria joined in on the plea, Pethant looked around with utmost confusion, but a few of the cameraman hollering at the man appeared to be sincere while the rest had a sly look on their face.
They thought he was a joke! Pethant gritted his teeth and walked in front of the man.
'Are you going to do it?' He asked once again, this time with a slightly calmer tone with a touch more desperation, and the man finally gave up and nodded.
'I guess I will do my daily training this way.....good to mix it up.' He murmured with a low voice, though Pethant couldn't hear a thing due to the thundering cheers from the crowds in the cafeteria.
What is going on...really?
The indoor battle arena 3 was booked out for Pethant's challenge with the man, and the battle went right ahead with nearly all of the cameraman in the C institute watching over. He swallowed hard at the crowd's strange enthusiasm for the fight, but none of this matters right now.
'The rules of this fight is simple.' The referee of the official challenges explained, 'whoever beats the snob out of the other and takes the most embarrassing photo first wins!'
'MATCH...SET...BEGIN!'
Standing in the left corner of the arena is Pethant dressed in his full armor. His camera is on, his muscles tight and toned and his veins bulging all across his body. On the other side stood the slim man. He had his analog camera in his hand ready and prepared the fight.
Pethant may be generally new in the Cameraman's Association, but he knew all of the basic ropes. With his strength alone, he was able to get himself to Tier 4 cameraman, as he is able to participate in missions for power levels of Earth Quaking and Below. The challenges are nothing new to him, but this is actually the first time he actively challenged someone else. Being the big dog at the lower tiers, he was always the one getting challenged.
Looking at the man in front of him, Pethant blinked nonchalantly when the man disappeared from his field of vision during the blink.
Then, he heard the sound of the camera shutter behind him. Pethant turned around and swung his fist with his armor, hitting nothing but the air in an empty whoosh.
'This concludes the fight! The Spectator wins!' The announcer declared with Pethant still facing the wrong direction. He spun around in a hurry and was about to unleash his questions and rage when he saw the image of a striated glute with white underwear. There is a hole in the peak of his buttocks.
That hole...Poking his finger back behind him, Pethant checked the position of the hole.
There is no mistake...he did remember pulling out the white underwear with the hole this morning thinking to go out on a blaze of glory today with it.
That, he did.
'The DISCOUNT also buys discounted underwear!' The crowd exploded into mocking laughter, with Pethant dropping to his knees in defeat.
How is that physically possible? He is wearing a thick military trouser with belts, inside of a full suit of armor. How the hell did the so-called Spectator get that shot?
Wait, he may have heard the name before.
Then, in the remainder of his visual field, he saw an outreached hand from the Spectator.
'Why...' Pethant asked.
'You ask too many why's, and not a lot of hows.' The Spectator replied, 'you won't progress that way.'
Pethant's eyes widened at what he said, and he took the hand.
'I am sorry about that...' The Spectator said into his ear, and he sounded genuinely remorseful, 'my bad habit...it came out again.'
'What do you mean?' Pethant asked, and the Spectator simply grabbed onto the wrist and flickered the both of them out of there.
He was moving so fast that for the entire second, all Pethant can process is the sound of wind crackling by his ear and the images of the hallways and corridors dashing by. Then, he blinked again and found the two of them sitting on top of the highest building in the C institute overlooking at the various office buildings, arena domes, and outdoor parks.
'I need an explanation.....still...I know I lost.....but!' Pethant demanded though he knows that he is in no position to really do anything.
'Tell me, why are you a cameraman, Pethant?' The Spectator asked, looking into the views of the afternoon sun before putting on a pair of cheap shades.
'I.....I was a pro fighter then. A long time ago.'
'I fought my last fight in tier 3, and...I realized something. There is a certain boundary between 3 and 2, or going from River Bending to Earth Quaking...and I am just not built for it.' Pethant said, his mind traveling back to his past, 'In order to get to the next level, I needed exponentially more time or a little more talent, and...'
'You gave up?' The Spectator asked bluntly.
'I realized I didn't like to fight as much as I liked to watch it. That's when I first became a cameraman.' Pethant said, clenching his fist, 'I wanted to see the limits of human power, in this superpowered world! That's why I worked harder than I ever have been just to get promoted to tier 4! You still get everything the fighters get in a fight as you are right in the middle of the action!'
There is a battle to be fought within Pethant, and perhaps now isn't the time for him to confront his fears just yet. That part is obvious to the Spectator, and he didn't say a word about it.
'If you were able to fight at tier 3, why did you wear the armor?' The Spectator asked, looking curiously at the man.
'The armor isn't for me.' Pethant said stubbornly, 'it is for the camera.'
The Spectator seemed genuinely amused by the answer, and he laughed out loud.
'Speak for yourself, you always have the broken camera.' Pethant pointed towards him and complained.
'I suppose you are right...' The Spectator said, turning around and reaching his hand out towards Pethant. That's when he saw the various scarring across his fingers and knuckles as well as the thick layer of calluses, 'I am Jon Bo, and please don't call me the Spectator.'
'You know, I have heard of that name around before...' Pethant said, scratching his head and taking Jon's hand.
'Yeah, maybe...' Jon looked and muffled his words.
'Ah! You know what?' Pethant asked, slamming both of his palms against one another and gestured towards Jon, 'can you take me in as your disciple?'
'What did you really expect to learn from me?' Jon asked with a hint of wonder and curiousity in his tone.
'I want to learn all of your techniques!' Pethant said, raising his fist up high as Jon looked ever more displeased, 'I want to learn your mindset in framing your shots, your timing, decision making, your post-processing skills....'
With every word Pethant has spoken, the look on Jon's face dissipates slowly and slowly. Then, he burst out into laughter again and nodded his head.
'Hahahahaha you are an interesting one, Pethant.'
'Huh? What do you mean? What else could others want to learn from you?' Pethant asked, looking directly at Jon with a straighter face than constant lines in space-time itself.
'Yeah.....nothing else.' Jon said with a light smile.
'By the way, this isn't going to be a Jiraiya/Naruto relationship, more like a Saitama/Genos one!'
'You can count on me! I am a good cook!'