"Betting. Long before the first betting house, men were already doing it. 'Why?' you ask me. Well, there are several reasons for it."
A young man hurried through the streets of a metropolis, wearing long pants and a black jacket, its hood covering his head, making him look like a typical high school delinquent.
"The first is the adrenaline of the risk. Money? It's just a consequence of the situation. The gambling addiction doesn't arise from someone who wants to get rich, but rather from the person who can't let go of that feeling of frenzy. The feeling arises from doubt and belief; doubt if it's possible and belief that it can happen, without one there's no other. Risking everything... to win everything."
Reaching the entrance of a restaurant, he looked both ways, as if suspicious of the air. Lifting his head, the glass door reflected his face, but he instantly averted his gaze from his reflection and entered.
"I've gone far beyond that, because I have something that only a few people in the world have, I have Hyperthymesia, also known as super memory syndrome, I don't forget. Basically, everything I've experienced, felt, read, and heard is just a thought away from me. Feelings are always as strong as the first time I felt them."
Passing through the door, he observed the few customers having lunch in the establishment and quickly made his way to the back.
"You must be thinking I'm some kind of lucky golden boy, and I don't blame you for thinking that, but it's not quite like that. Remembering isn't always good... I at least have many things I wish I could forget..."
Descending flights of stairs at the end of the establishment, he came across a metal door.
"Honestly, it's lonely, to say the least, that's why I spend so much time talking to myself in my head; crafting stories, narratives, and imagining what it would be like to have a healthy conversation with another person, thinking about all the life situations I've already experienced or could experience, just like I'm doing right now."
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK
"I wasn't born in a golden cradle, no, not even in a cradle. My mother was a maid for a middle-class couple. When she first started working in that damn house, the family consisted only of a man and a woman, a few years later they had a son. That's when the problems started to arise."
"What's the password?" shouted a deep voice from the other side.
"The marriage wasn't working out anymore, the husband got fired and started getting drunk every night to 'cure' his anguish. One day, the bastard came home so drunk that he thought it was 'okay' to force himself on the maid... well, that's where I came from."
"Just open the damn door, Gordon!" he replied.
"When the lady of the house found out, she immediately kicked my mother out, and filed for divorce. The bastard disappeared the next day. I heard he died somewhere, I hope he suffered."
The creaking of the hinges came soon after, on the other side a tall, broad-shouldered black man looked down at the boy.
TSK
"It's just you, kid, how many times have I told you to stop coming here?" the man, despite his appearance and words, gently scolded the boy.
"You know, I don't have a choice..." he replied, laughing as if talking to an old friend. "I have no other way to pay off my debts!"
"You always say that... if you were a millionaire, you'd still come here..." Gordon thought to himself, but, with no choice, he let him pass.
"Be careful, Li, the boss wants to see you again..."
"He does? Well, I'll go talk to him then," replied Li. He didn't seem scared or apprehensive, just a little eager.
"This place is always the same."
Looking around, all he saw was a large open space, big enough to fit a few hundred people, a true arena with stands. No one would imagine that this place was underneath a century-old family restaurant.
Li made his way to the last room and, knocking on the door, he entered.
"Liii, my golden boy, there you are!" A large, fat man, sitting behind a desk, shouted as soon as he saw the boy entering through the door.
"Sir, I was told you wanted to talk to me..." Li looked him up and down. Despite the way the man greeted him, he knew exactly who he was talking to. An old mafia boss, the owner of this whole establishment, and ultimately, the man who raised him since childhood.
"Well, boy, always so direct! Can't a father talk to his son about mundane things?" Pointing to a chair, he continued. "Sit down first."
Sitting down, Li never took his eyes off the man. His black pinstripe suit sported a badge with just two words "Tai Lung", his name, and a reminder to everyone of who was in charge of that place. The dragon. This man once ruled half of the city, but for some time now, business had been going downhill.
"Li, you're a rare gem, a talent like no other, you'll eventually be the greatest fighter this country has ever seen!" Tai Lung said, intertwining his fingers. "You just need to wait a little longer..."
"Most famous fighters would have already started making a name for themselves at this age..." he grumbled.
"Well, you're not most people, you don't need to rush, everything has its mo..."
"You always say that! When am I going to have a real fight? When are you going to give me the opportunity to prove everything you say I am? I'm almost 20 years old..."
BANG
"WHEN YOU PAY WHAT YOU OWE!"
Tai Lung, seeing the disrespect, quickly made sure to put him in his place. Li recoiled in his chair.
"Listen, Jihan." Regaining his composure, the man straightened his hair and calmed down.
Jihan was Li's last name, he knew that when his 'father' called him that, it was a serious situation.
"When I met you, you were just a child, you lost your mother early and never had a father. I gave you food, water, shelter, and even a teacher to teach you how to make a living by fighting. And what did you do? You threw it all away!"
"I said I'll make it up, I'm just out of luck! If you gave me an advance..."
"ENOUGH! Enough of this nonsense!"
SIGH
Tai Lung sighed. Reaching into the desk drawer, he pulled out a package.
"Kid, you've always helped me out, so I'll give you one last hand, but you need to do me a favor."
"Just say it! I'll do anything you ask!" Li immediately perked up at the change in attitude.
"What I want from you is quite simple, it won't give you much trouble... kid, I need you to lose the next fight..."
Despite the indifferent manner in which the man spoke, Jihan's expression darkened.
"Lose... lose? I can't do that! You know very well," he refused without a second thought.
"I know that what I'm asking you is not easy. You may not believe it, but this is as hard for me as it is for you... besides, didn't I say you need the money?" he taunted, tapping the package in his hand twice.
Li lowered his head. Building fame, even in underground fights, was a good path to the top. However, being caught fixing matches is utterly destructive, forget the top, you won't even get out of the bottom.
Fighting clandestinely already sets a bad record for a fighter, fixing results is destroying one's own future. How could Li let an addiction override his dream?
"Son..." Li immediately looked up at the man. "I didn't intend to tell you this, but if it helps you make a decision, it's for the best." Tai Lung stood up and went to the office window. Without looking back, he began. "We're finished."
"What do you mean?" the boy questioned.
"To keep a business like this going, we need a lot more than just the establishment. We need to keep those who could end us away, and that requires a lot of money..." The man ran a hand through his hair. "The betting fees on the fights bring in good money, but not enough... Our business is in danger, Li..."
Li remained silent for a moment. Lung's request lingered in his head as he repeated to himself, "Yes, it's not about the money, it's for my father, he's always given everything for me, I need to do this for him."
"If it weren't for this, I would never ask you to throw a fight, you know..."
"I... I'll do it," he decided with a weak voice.
"Hah, knew I could count on you, my boy!" As if his mood had done a 180, the man smiled, handing him the advance. "Here, go have some fun, kid!"
Li perked up a bit, took the package, and headed to the door.
"I won't let you down," he said before leaving the office, too caught up in the amount to notice his father's expression.
Lung grinned from ear to ear.
"And how could you disappoint me, child..."