Morning came. I stretched and threw some clothes on that I had made a point to order the previous night after pigging out. I shoved the garbage in a corner like a true slob and went straight to stretching and training my telekinesis by throwing around trash. I wasn't entirely sure how long I had to wait, or if I had to be somewhere, but sitting in my room moving items with my mind seemed acceptable for now.
It wasn't long until I heard a knocking at my door. A guy wearing a staff shirt was sitting on the other end, "The boss wants to see you." Was all he said before he started walking. I was still wearing my under-suit remnants as underwear and socks, and even still had my boots. My clothes were similar enough to what I wore yesterday, but different enough that I couldn't be called out for not changing.
I followed him to the elevators, and we went down. Neither of us spoke as we opened up to another floor much like the ones above. The only difference was that instead of single metal doors with electronic doors they were double doors, and larger. In fact, the ceiling even seemed a good foot or so higher. The floors were still carpeted, not the plush kind, but the typical office space rug.
The double doors were placed far apart, a quick scan mental ping showing empty large rooms. I could sense the manager's energy from just ahead as we turned a corner and entered a set of doors with a reserved sign on them. On entering I was greeted to a cushioned floor, the room itself looking almost like a dojo. In the center was the manager and a crew of staff fiddling with a series of machines.
"Brought her boss." The manager turned to look at me with a weighing look before nodding. "Good job, get back to what you were doing." "Sure, thing boss." And walked off, leaving me with the manager as the crew finished their tasks and promptly left.
"This is the sparring floor; one of the three we have. Each floor is equipped with a side room filled with equipment and weights. There is also a dedicated exercise floor above the spar rooms." I nodded, mostly due to me not knowing what else to add.
"Today I reserved this room to test out your abilities before officially hiring you, now before we begin, I'll need you to sign these waivers."
He hands me a tablet the words were mostly fine, but I flipped open my scouter letting the glass extend as I looked over the contract… before getting bored and flipping to the bottom.
"At least you tried to read it…" He sighs before double checking. "Right, now first question. What is that?" He points to my scouter.
"My scouter, it's like a smartphone." That didn't help. "A tablet? I can record, call, access online, interact with my ship, so on so forth." He nods. "Can you send me your contact details?" I do so. He grabs what looks like a radio from his belt and keys something in and clicks it on. "Can you hear me?" I hear him in surround sound. Both from my scouter and from him. "Yup, both from the scouter and you."
"Good, we have our fighters wear earpieces so we can give them orders mid fight easier than having to rely on hand signs. If its fine with you, we'll just use your scouter."
"That sounds fine." I wasn't bothered, no in fact I was more than happy to keep it on me. I didn't want it getting stolen or something.
"Now, first we can test your strength here on the punching machine. Just give it your best whack." He steps aside and I find myself facing a strangely familiar object… It almost looks like the machine from the anime… Except maybe a bit smaller, compact?
"Am I liable if I break it?" I wanted to break it.
"Break it? Heh, give it your best shot kid." I wasn't sure if he actually wanted me to try or if he was saying it, but well, I wanted to break it for some reason. I took my stance, I considered flicking it, but… I wasn't sure if that would be enough honestly… A full powered punch might be too much… Eh, I'll feel it out. I punch, with a little bit of Ki enhancing me…
My fist impacts the bottle capped shape end, the cushioned part for my fist to hit. It depresses into it, and it doesn't stop as I hear something inside snap. The cushion continues through completely boring out the machine's interior leaving an empty husk and a scattering of machinery smashed into the opposite wall.
"Maybe a little too much strength…" Maybe a flick would have done better… I turned to the manager, his glasses halfway slid down his nose as he stared trembling. He takes a shaky breath before pushing up his glasses. I think I saw them flash, but that almost seemed too much.
"You said you're a Saiyan, right Rettas?" Oh, he used my name! "Yup." No reason to deny. "Can you explain to me, or rather what makes your species, uh, different from others?" Different? That's a vague definition for defining a species, and he must have realized that after a moment.
"Right, like I'm a fire devil. Our species sees in a type of infrared, hence the glasses. We can tolerate extreme heat, even getting stronger as we essentially bake. Our body expanding, muscles growing."
Oh! That sounded really cool!
"Like so, does your species have anything special?"
Uh… We shoot lasers? That would sound stupid, as would turning into a giant monkey when we see a full moon. I could go for the most basic physiological advantages. Seeing me think he added, "You don't need to tell me everything, like I told you our strengths, but I didn't tell you our weaknesses."
I nod to that. "Saiyan's are a warrior race. What doesn't kill us literally makes us stronger. Broken bones reknit and become tougher, ripped and torn muscles too. Essentially as long as an injury is survivable, we adapt near limitlessly, hence why we are so crazy about finding fights. Our home planet has insanely high gravity due to the benefits of high gravity on our body training.
Our tails improve our balance, are prehensile, and if we lose it, it can regenerate. I also believe we can regenerate lost limbs if given time. The biggest caveat is that our appetite is insane to make up for how much energy our body burns."
He was typing like mad on his tablet. "Can you, confirm your durability?"
"I assume you have an idea already?" I was certain they reviewed my fight last night, they being the other higher-ups. I doubted this guy was the only boss.
"We have some idea, but… would you be willing to test it?" Before I could respond the door opens, both our gazes look over as the dicer enters. He was wearing more casual attire. Notably his face wasn't covered. His face had a bony plate over it. He had more plates sticking out from his skin on his arms and legs.
"Needed me manager?" I also noticed him holding his blade, though it was sheathed.
"Good timing Klaud." He sighed at that. "In front of the newbie manager?"
"Haven't hired her yet, but she's looking more promising by the second."
"Oh, really how'd… the hell happened to the strength machine!?" He was openly gaping at the gutted thing.
"She did."
"S-She did that?" They shared a glance before both looked too me. "So? How about it? Care to test?" The manager said, though Klaud looked briefly confused.
"Hit me with the best you can, what doesn't kill me makes me stronger after all."
He then looks to Klaud. "Wait, now?" "Yes, as hard as you can." He looked between me and him. I extend my arm out and walk towards him. "Here, if it cuts it cuts. I can just re-attach it" Probably.
He pales. "You serious?" He looks at me and the manager. "Deadly, now get to it." The manager orders. Klaud gulps, and draws his blade, gripping it in two hands. He levels it along my arm, looks to me again with indecision, I totally wasn't grinning… Nor was I looking forward to my arm getting cut, nope. Definitely not. But… I will admit the idea of seeing his sword levelled at my arm did send a surge of anticipatory adrenaline.
Would it cut? Would it fail? I felt my breath get a little heavy, definitely not creepy as he gapes for a second. "Well? Get on with it!" The manager yells, jolting Klaud out of whatever was going through his mind as he pulls out the blade, His stance perfect as he swings down, his bone white blade glistening as it swings down. I catch the after-image and feel something hit my arm with a wet thud.
"W-what the fuck!?" His blade was stuck in my muscle, jammed in. He even began wiggling and sawing it, and only stopped as I bit my lip. I totally wasn't enjoying this, nope. I was just happy that I couldn't be cut. But I could almost feel my skin shifting, adjusting, adapting. "Could you, uh, help? Please?" Klauds words bring me out of my euphoria, "Huh, oh sure, gimme a sec." I grip the blade in my hand, careful not to break it as I schluck it out.
The wound spurts blood briefly before clotting, the two of us watch as the skin almost wriggles, slowly reknitting itself. "You a fucking gene soldier or something!?" He says with astonishment.
I look at the manager with a burst of pride. "Meh, it's just a mundane blade Klaud, not like it's a nano-blade or vibrating blade. The healing factor's really good though. Means we can be loose with the fights. Just need to make sure you're not too tough." He was tapping away at his tablet, only occasionally glancing at my rapidly healing wound. The blood dripping off Klaud's katana and the small pool of blood soon the only sign I was even cut as a new person enters.
He was tall, purple, and had four arms. Two of them were definitely body builder arms, whereas the two front ones were more normal fit arms. On each of his fists were knuckle dusters, they gleamed almost iridescent.
"You called manager?" He glanced around, his eyes closing briefly like a lizard. He didn't think anything strange about the blood nor ask the manager gave him his purpose. "I need you to hit the new recruit."
He didn't question that as he began to stretch, bones and muscles cracking and popping. "How hard?" Was all he asked. "As hard as you can. Hit center of the chest, see if you can't break anything." I turn my head briefly, inadvertently opening myself as I feel something hit me in the chest hard, I hear a series of crackles as I am pushed just a smidge as I absorb the blow.
I rub my chest and look up at the purple guy flapping his hand. "You alright?" I find myself asking him, less out of care, but more a genuine curiosity. The thought that him hitting me and breaking something… Mm… never mind.
"Yea, luckily, I have shock absorbers under the dusters. What about you? Honestly felt like I was punching an alloy wall."
"Think you bruised something." I say, opening my shirt a little to show off the rapidly purpling bruise. "Yup, definitely a bruise." I look over to the manager looking for his input. "Am I in?" I ask.
"We could always use more weirdoes, but I need to confirm one more thing."
I waited, so did the other two people in the room. Klaud was just, standing in a corner looking at us.
"You're not planning on staying, correct?"
"Definitely not, I need money to get my ship and get back to picking fights."
"Alright, we can use you then."
"And if I decide to stay?"
"Well… I'm not really sure to be honest, but within a year I guarantee people will figure out there's no point in fighting you."
And what was left unsaid was how I couldn't handle that. It would be so boring, infuriating even.
"Forget I asked. What was the test for?"
"Arms here is one of our upper-mid tier fighters. If we let him use his drivers, we may be able to break something."
Oh? I looked at the newly dubbed arms, and he nodded. "I just need to make sure to calibrate them for hitting a mountain." He said with a laugh.
"And the point?" I asked.
"In our business, well, fights are often choreographed, but challenges do occur. Especially from other arenas. We plan to put you on the road to championship, put you on all the casts and market the shit out of you. You're already spiking in popularity after last night. The plucky kid from nowhere beating a ranker? Not common.
First part of the plan is we have you fight Arms here with better dusters, but not his drivers. And we want you to lose."
Lose? Me? I didn't like that at all. "Think of it as body strengthening. From there we put you through the gauntlet, building your battle record until the rematch. At that point you'll both go at it for a big spectacle and should you win. Well… I guarantee every champion in the city will be chomping at the bit to fight you. So? Sounds good?"
I had to think about that.
"What about training? What equipment do you have? Gravity chambers? Something?"
"Unfortunately, we can't offer sparring, we need your fights to look clean and you learn too fast. In exchange we will pay for your food while here, and you will receive a bigger cut. As for training, I highly doubt we have the equipment for your needs and gravity chambers are highly illegal."
My tail swished back and forth in annoyance…
"I'll even provide a contract with you, a special service. If, in one year you manage to stick with it and you still haven't earned enough money to pay your fees and debt off. The company will pay for it."
I sighed…
"And you swear you'll get my name out there?"
"Kid, by the end of this, there won't be a single person that doesn't know your name on this planet."
He passes over the tablet, a contract on it. I actually read it. It's cut and dry, simple to read and empty of all the legalese.
"Fine."
My words, and signature were the beginning, the first steps towards stardom!
The next day… I was in the ring, the smell of bloody sand, the cheering crowd. It took everything I had to keep myself from grimacing as I faced my opponent. I couldn't even get myself pumped up for this. Even the crying crowds, the crazed announcer yelling and screaming as they introduce us.
Ironically, I must have been suitably serious. Like I was facing a true threat to an outsider, but I knew… I knew he wasn't a threat. He looked at me, a cocky grin on his blue flat face. But… I could sense his fear, how tense he was as we stared each other down.
"The Bruiser!!!" Was his name, the crowd screamed. "And our plucky new fighter, THE SUPER SAIYAN!!!" In a way, the words he spoke felt like knives against my heart. I heard the occasional shout and whistle, the words of encouragement felt like ice water in my veins.
"We'll make this quick Rettas. I promise, we aren't fucking with you." The manager cut in, my eyes flitting over to his spot in the arena. I felt my fists clench. My breathing was heavy and almost loud. The arena went quiet as I felt my thirst for blood fill the air. It was heavy, and I could almost feel it like sludge in my blood.
For a moment, I thought the fight would be called off as my opponent stilled, but he moved. It was like a challenge, no… Like a child standing up to a beast he had no hope facing. The announcer called out the start of the fight, not with exuberance, but instead with an almost plaintive cry. Despite myself, I felt myself smile at my opponent. His fists raised, his pupils dilating rapidly and shifting.
I moved to step but didn't even get the chance as he burst forward, his form expanding to near twice his size. The shock of his presence expanding so rapidly, the fight or flight in his eyes. I felt it in the very first punch as my bones crackled under the blow.
I could feel that spark, like a lone candle in the wind. So small, threatening to puff out with the slightest caress of the wind. Cupped within my hands, hungry eyes staring down. A single child clutching to the light, standing, defiant. My blood boiled. I felt his courage, his drive, his resistance.
His blows rained on me as I tried to move, not to avoid, but instead taking them. Pressuring him… I returned a blow after near ten of his, the blow cracking. Echoing through the area as I hit him, but he didn't relent, pushing and pushing as I beat him back.
I wasn't hitting too hard; I was hitting just right. I was a smith; he was the metal on my anvil. Every blow, shaking him, that burning flame in him flaring and growing as he hurriedly fed it all he could. I didn't let him think, I didn't let him see anything more than me. Hear anything other than me.
By the time it finished, I staggered back. My body was covered in injuries, my nose broken, my bones cracked and bruised. I gave him a defiant grin as he froze, his body no longer listening as our eyes locked. Predator and prey… And… I fell back and let my eyes close. I let the blood come out of my lips in a bloody cough.
He didn't hear the announcer call his victory, but from that day on… The Bruiser was never the same. And I looked forward to when we faced off again.