"Don't allow him to gain the upper hand. You shouldn't give him that chance. No, no, no! What the hell are you doing!"
"What is he doing? Look at how San is shouting at him. The other man is really killing him there."
"I don't know. He is already looking wasted. And we had to place huge amounts on him. I mean he is good for nothing. A total waste!"
"Exactly."
"He is the definition of useless."
"I said that we should not give him the upper hand. Don't let him put you in that corner! Cobly are you listening to me? Cobly! Cobly! Are you listening? Cobly!"
Knuckles stung. Head throbbed and almost everywhere hurt. He walked in a slow pace, his legs dragging through the ground. He clenched his jaws so hard that he teeth began aching. But through the ache, he held it hard, in his last ditch effort not to let his mind break as his body has. His gym bag slung sloppily on his shoulder as he trudged on. The street illuminated by the full moon and the lights inside the houses surroundings it. The street was wide and long and silent, just for the reasons he chose it.
A pair of loud boys smoking cigars passed him by and Cobly kept his gaze towards the dirt on the street. He increased the speed to his steps. Tried to cut down into the alley in order to reach his apartment. A hand rested heavily on his shoulder and he stilled.
Peeking at the finger on his shoulder–covered in golden rings, tattoos covering every inch of the hand, more hidden beneath the sleeves of the black flannel shirt. The man was among the group who'd just passed by.
"Hey man, are you coming from the fighting ring?" the tattooed man asked.
"Am not."
The owner of the hand smiled. It was rehearsed and used for tactics purpose. "You are Cobly?"
Cobly faced the man, his teeth grinding against each other. "Yes I am. What can I do for you?"
"What you shouldn't have done, lost." The man grinned. His teeth which were decked in grills reflected against the moonlight. "Boys!"
Over the man shoulders, more men were strolling their direction.
"Who sent you? is it San?" Cobly asked apprehensively, using his good eye to observed his surroundings without subtlety. They were getting closer. He could turn around and flee, but it will be another race which he will still lose. His feet already felt like a bag of concrete and his whole body was shutting down. He could try to reason with them. The man who grinned his way didn't really look like the understanding type. Flannel shirt tucked into black slacks and paired with equally black shoes. His posture radiated 'messenger of the gods.'
In his deliberations, they smiled Cobly's way, surrounding him.The apple did not fall far from the tree as they all resembled their main man.
"What do you want?" Cobly asked again.
"Simple," the man said smirking, "you. Back there, you should have given it your all. You should have fought till all the bones in your body know what is hell and when you have felt like falling unconscious, through sheer will, for the love of San, for your patriotic duty to San, you break back up."
"I gave it my all," Cobly felt like screaming out. "That was my second match, I've won my first and was drained out. But San forced another match. Forced me to fight again. What else does San want from me?"
"Cool down. Cool down. Don't shout. If San didn't believe you could do it, he wouldn't have put you up for that. San is a decent man who engages in decent work. And the only thing he wants is to get a decent return on his investment." The man's hand pressed down on Cobly shoulder and Cobly held back a wince. "Mr Cobly, you haven't given him that today. Only embarrassment."
The man clicked his tongue, and the men started to advance. Cobly warily looked around him. "This night was the only night I've lost."
The tattooed man laughed bitterly. "Today was San's big win. He had great trust in you and staked his all. His associates staked high as well. You let him down tonight in more ways that other days fade faster than dust."
The men advanced.
Cobly freed his broad muscular shoulders, both of his bag and the man's hand. He was built well. Broad and bulked up muscles ripple through. Like a metal tank. He lifted his hand up to his chest and balled it into fists. His muscles tense. Stance ready.
A man barreled forward, Cobly stepped away and the man sailed to the ground. Another came, swinging high at Cobly, he used his left hand to wedge off the attack, giving back an uppercut that rattled the man's jaws. Two came at once, they lashed out in anger. Their attacks powerful but lacking coordination and strategy. Cobly weaved through their combined ferocious attacks like water. Grabbing the first one arms under his armpit. He swung low, towards the man's elbow and a sickening crunch was heard as the man's hand bent at an unnatural angle, the spineless man fell on his knees and began screaming his head off. The other man hesitated, Cobly didn't. He came at him, swiping his legs from under him. As the man fell like a damsel, Cobly held his head steady, suspending him in air before smashing his small rubbery head against the ground. The man laid still like a sack of potatoes, he could very well be dead. Cobly stood, he breathed hard that it felt like he was taking out the entire oxygen and depositing carbon dioxide for the others. His expression like a carving knife. The remaining, their expression hesitated and fearful. They tethered between the lines of retreat and attack. The main man gave a war scream and the atmosphere pumped. Confidence level boasted and the others all charged at Cobly screaming like a bunch of resuming school girls. Cobly tried to relaxed his shoulders, putting more weight into his fists. Their fists came. He weaved, punched, weaved and punched. His body sly and like flowing water–what was that, when he was known as the slopes of the Jade mountain. His muscles didn't restrict his movement, it gave him the edge. Different face passed through his eyes and he analyzed those attacks with his good eye. Hitting jaws so hard that the dentistry will be full by tomorrow. Jaws and ribs– his bloodied knuckles shattered through.
Through the fight, he wavered and a punch caught him across the eye. The hit was amplified by the golden rings on the assailant hand and Cobly's stumbled back. His waver, however slight, will cost him. Another came to his ribs and he felt the air leaving him. He held his ribs and retreated, but it was useless. They were at every angle. A flying kick found his sweat matted head and spots momentarily exploded in his eyes. He swung but he may very well be hitting air.
A vicious uppercut to his jaws lifted him up his feet. He felt himself hanging in the air before he hit the ground with bone breaking force.
Cobly staggered painfully into an upright position, his muscles expanding, thick vein sewn like a wool stood out on the back of his hand. He fixed each one a glare but with one eye swollen shut and the other leaking blood–it made little to no impact. A string of spittle slipped through his mouth and was caught by the ground.
"I will kill anyone who comes near me," he croaked in a muffled raging scream. "You think you can kill me. I've been a god in that ring for two years and all of a sudden, nameless thugs like you think they have a chance."
"Who said anything about killing," the tattooed man chuckled. "You think San will show you such mercy? He is merciful but such is too much. You will fight again, even if you have to do so with one arm."
"I will not," Cobly muffled out, spitting out blood."