Today was the day. The day I was going to fight The Bruiser, also known as Armfourth Thryceson… Hell of a name. The weather was awful as I looked out of my rooms window, my mood the same as the weather, poor. If that's the right wording for it. I felt ready to fight, raring to go. The recent loss of my sparring partner and their message to me that they were moving shop had helped contribute to my poor mood.
I had a feeling he was more than just a normal person. To think he was a big business mogul. Even stranger to call that man my first real friend in this life. It took me some time, but I figured it out as I began to use my ki against him. Why it was that I enjoyed hitting him so much. It wasn't just my blooming sadism, but something more integral to who I am.
It wasn't apparent in the first few hits, but it became more and more pronounced as I used my ki more prolifically. Every time I hit him a portion of my ki would exit my body and circle his central crystal before it was spit back out and absorbed. The man, thing, was refining my ki naturally. Improving my ki control even boosting its effectiveness. In the sessions since I began using my ki to empower my body I noticed a clear difference in its responsiveness and even just last sessions near all-out attack had saw me gain tremendously.
My total Ki reserves had dropped, but instead the quality of my ki had risen by a notable margin. When I figured it out, when I felt it… I couldn't hold myself back anymore. I was almost slavering to beat him down. Even going as far as to compromise my wish to hide my abilities. I still wasn't sure if it was going to bite me in the ass or not, but… I wasn't too afraid of that truly.
Instead, I found a kindred spirit. His drive to improve is nearly as fanatical as my own. His preparations, his sparring ground proved that too me. Combined with his endless thirst for punishment. He wasn't just a masochist seeking release, no. He was a man seeking the very peak. We were iron, and together we sharpened each other. Tested one another.
Truthfully, I was hitting the peak of what I could receive from him, and likely he was the same. Instead, I had, deigned to ask him for his number. A means to contact him. Something that I found distinctly awkward. Perhaps I could consider him a true friend and perhaps he would think the same of me, but I wasn't sure. Were we simply two individuals who saw each other as useful? Or perhaps did he feel the same drive I did to reach the peak.
The question, the contemplation had made me feel melancholic over the last few days. It almost fits the weather outside. The cavern rarely had weather. It was usually the same dry foul-smelling trash smell that hung in the air. This was thanks to the absurdly massive Air vents on the cavern roof that sucked in the excess moisture and kept the cavern livable.
If they ever shut down, I can imagine how catastrophic that would be. The filthy garbage below the fetid rotting corpses would rot and fester faster, disintegrating into a mass of sludge from the heat and humidity. The sludge would begin to stick and slough, filling the channels with muck and garbage. A slow trundling molasses of death. Slowly turning the cavernous city below into a swamp of disease and death.
Instead, the vents worked. Keeping the moisture low to none, instead letting the corpses and trash below dry rot. Making cleaning up easier, the smell more bearable. The temperature livable. The vents were for the most part self-maintaining, but the whole of the cavern took it upon themselves to keep them running. Entire quadrants chipping in to replace vent parts for the massive engines under the hood when the government failed them. Which it did, often.
Instead, the vents were worshipped in a way. Those able to repair it revered, and the whole profession seen as gods work. I imagine they were aware, even the churches, of just how bad it would be should they fail. Which meant they were in surprisingly good condition despite the government's continued failures. Still, even with their continued care and worship cracks were showing. Not now, maybe not in the coming decade, but someday the vents would fail catastrophically. Or perhaps the massive engines around the core of planet would finally kick it. The whole planet is like a patient living via a ventilator. Their every breath counted and measured. Waiting till the inevitable end.
Ultimately, all this led to the current conditions outside. It was raining. A black greasy rain that stung to the touch. The sucked-up moisture was split between two purposes. The first purpose had the water cycled and refreshed and used as wastewater for the surface dwellers. Only to find it flushed back down to the city below to be cycled and redistributed for their drinking water.
The other use had the water slowly banking itself into the vents. Acting as coolant to keep the massive engines within… cool. Naturally, as the moisture built up it would hit a point where the engine had too much moisture. As such it would vent it out, creating rain in the cavern. One of the few weather events the cavern dwellers ever dealt with.
The water itself was treated at least, but more like water mixed with bleach. It stung and burnt the skin if touched, but its purpose was clear. A clever dual purpose for venting the water. It also served as a cleaning agent to help clear the muck and grime from the alleys. Something the cavern dwellers latched onto with incredible enthusiasm.
They had massive lit funnels focusing the torrential rain into smaller alleys to blast out garbage and gunk. The blocked alleys cleared, and the garbage blasted down the alleys until it hit the many sewer entry points throughout the cavern. The trash and garbage moving into massive recyclers that churn and break down the garbage and waste. Repurposing them for the cavern dwellers.
The rain was seen as a good omen. A day of celebration, of renewal. A time where even the poorest can gain from the massive piles of waste moving down the alleys and through the slums. On such a day my fight was planned. It was a good omen, apparently.
Watching the milling crowds below, the bright lights and floating neon balloons filling the periphery. I could see the milling crowds, the children tugging on their parents' sleeves as they all gathered. Despite the rain, vendors were out in force. Peddling and hawking goods and signed goodies. The atmosphere was alive, pulsing like a living thing.
I had recently eaten and already stretched, only waiting for the battle to come. Watching those below, those eager to see me. Those about to witness me. It set me on edge, gave me a sense of pressure, a feeling of something weighing me down pressing me down. It only made my blood burn. Even as I heard the rumors, the harsh whispers as people talked about Bruisers improvement. I could feel him. His ki pulsed as it flowed and flared.
I breathe in and out. My scouter rings in a familiar tone as I answer. "Manager." I state. Already knowing who it was. "You ready to go Rettas?"
"Always." He laughed, but I knew he was just as giddy as I was. "What do you think? Can you win?"
I felt a twitch, a feral grin staring back at me in the window. "Was there ever any question?" I said, knowing that I would never truly lose this fight. Not if I were to go all out, but that wasn't the point. The question was, how hard do I go?
"I like your energy! Head down to the ring, we're just about to start and the crowds all riled up and ready."
And the call cut. I took one look at myself. Our eyes locked onto each other, eager. I stepped closer, our lips near touching. My hand trailing along my mirror images body. "I promise. We'll win today. And win and win." I didn't know who I was talking to. What I was talking too. But it felt right as I felt something inside me stir. A dormant feeling, a desire long locked away like pandoras box being slowly slipped open.
I made my way down to the arena. Rows upon rows of staff members and fighters lining the walls to cheer me on as I move. Once I get down to the arena floor, the paths become filled with die-hard fans. The cheering and stamping of feet near shaking the earth. I could feel it beating into me like a drum. Like the drums of war, thumping and beating.
I walked, letting the emotions wrap me like a cloak. I wore it, letting it guide me as those following me went silent. Many of them quiet as they watched me walk to the arena, the words on their lips. This would be remembered. I stepped before the iron slabs, a final check over me by the physicians as was usual before the match even began. The air stilled, anticipation filling the silence.
The sound of scraping steel from the doors lifting deafeningly silent as we walked onto the arena. We took our position, the arena fresh and clean. Smelling of sand and sun. The moment our eyes met A resounding boom echoed. The sand dispersed, the crowd cheered and went wild.
Bruiser had hardly changed outwardly, save for the massive gauntlets on each of his arms. I could sense his nervousness, the fear, but underneath it was an admirable will to challenge me. Before me was a prepared warrior. No longer a child clutching a candle, but a hero wielding his weapon of choice.
"You've gotten stronger." I spoke, my ki carrying my voice to him. He didn't flinch, only spoke back to me. "But it's not enough, is it?" I laughed, because he could finally truly see it. No, perhaps all of them could sense it before. The monster that was before them, but now, now he could recognize the mountain before him and just how high it truly was. The monster in a girl's skin across from him. Yet he did not back off, instead he raised his arms in challenge.
His eyes burned as the announcer began. The air between us is electric. We watched each other, evaluating, gauging… We looked relaxed, but our minds were on a hair-trigger so thin a shadow could trip it. Just waiting for the call. Even a single member of the audience crying out fight would have started our brawl. Such was the tension between us.
I had waited, waited and waited. The wait only made bearable as I felt his strength growing more and more. If I utilized my ki blasts and flight, well, this wouldn't even be a fight. Instead, as I stood against him, I sensed the full force of his prowess. His presence near physical. He had awakened, but not wholly. The energy in his body coursing through his body empowering it.
It was only right I follow suit. The arena quickly filled with our aura, flooding it. The cage only keeping it in by nature of its purpose as a barrier. So flimsy, but just enough that our subconscious minds prevented it from flooding over the crowd, likely knocking out if not outright killing those lesser.
"FIGHT!!!"
We moved before conscious thought formed, our two bodies slamming into each other with a momentous boom that pushed back the crowd. Both our bodies crackled with power, muscles rippling like braided steel whipping as we flexed. Our bones crackling from the thrum of our movement. Our breath came out in a hiss, as we for a moment stood. Our bodies locked. Our fists both impact each other.
Neither of us were harmed. Our ki roiled as it dispersed and deflected the blow.
The crowd was awed. Unable to speak as the air went dead silent. None dared to speak as we stared into each other. Bruiser towered over me, his fist the size of my torso easily. My own fist is almost infantile in comparison. And yet, I held my own. Some would say I was David, and he Goliath… They would be wrong. I was Goliath and he was David.
The next series of blows were near silent, our fists breaking past the sound barrier, only to follow with a rapid series of cracks and booms as fist met flesh, as bone underneath rattled and shook. All blending together into a single glorifying symphony. It became apparent as we traded blows that Bruisers gauntlets were holding him back. The mechanism within needing longer than he could afford to reload and rearm.
Well, it didn't matter much as our fists met, the metal on them crunching and crashing before the bewildered gazes of the onlookers. The two of us beating each other with no plan or goal seemingly, but this was just the opening act. A simple teaser. We both moved at the same time, A change in the tempo as if prearranged. I slammed my forehead into an oncoming fist, my other arm blocking the other. My tail whipping out to redirect the third as the fourth slammed into my braced stomach.
I held my ground, even as Bruiser shook minutely, losing out slightly despite the direct blow. And just like that, we disengaged. The crowd took the moment to breathe. All at once the sound of the crowd inhaling and exhaling echoing as we gasp. For once my sweat wasn't fake. My breath loss was not faked. My scouter crackled in.
"The bets are through the roof! We got exactly half and half odds!" The crowd was whipped into an intense frenzy. The crowd's faith buoyed the faltering Bruiser. He knew his chances weren't even fifty-fifty. Hell, they probably weren't one in a hundred. Still, just the thought brought him to new heights, his ki surging.
He slammed his fists together, shattering the remnants of his gauntlets under the cheering crowd. The question between us passing in just a look. Who goes first? I was unquestionably the winner of the last duel, but to the crowd was that true? In the end we let the crowd decide. And the answer was clear.
"SUPER SAIYAN!" They cheered and chanted, the plucky up and comer. He braced as I charged. In that mere moment we both judged, looked each other over and communicated in a way not normally possible. The moment my fist was blocked we assessed and understood. We spoke through violence not words.
How many bouts could we do? When should we commit? How much of a spectacle should we give, can give? Such were the questions as we worked into each other, slowly wearing down each other's reserves. Sequentially the questions found answers through action.
Bruiser was likely to fade first. His ki not nearly as full as my own. My years, if not lifelong training compared to his months. He wouldn't be able to endure long, no, even his body was hardly nourished by the flowing ki. Only barely keeping up with the brutal blows by virtue of his alien physiology.
Bruiser was redundant. His alien physiology gives him nearly three hearts and duplicates of every major organ. He was built to last, able to easily survive even if I ripped him in half. It wouldn't come to that, but it explained how he was even able to handle the force of my blows without crumpling. Even still I felt his bones and muscles quiver under every blow.
He was a poor shack in the midst of a typhoon. The battering rain and winds threatening to rip him to pieces as my fists hit like the torrential rain. As my mere presence buffeted him like near sonic winds. He wouldn't last, but for now he was like a candle burning both ends. Extending himself, pushing himself regardless of injury, less for the spectacle and more because he saw me for what I was. And he had the audacity to stare into the abyss to glean something to learn. A true hero facing against a demon king.
I was more than happy to oblige. Our conversation was done; I backed off. My feet sliding back, almost skating along the ground as I initiated the disengage. Bruiser taking the moment to collect himself. In a breath his body pulsed and expanded. His size nearly doubled as he engaged his fight or flight instincts. Pushing himself above and beyond.
I couldn't dodge it as we clashed again. His fists moving as if homing on me. I took them, feeling the brutal crushing blows cracking bone and mulching flesh. I rallied my ki, focusing it on defending myself, letting it burst where he hits to reduce the impact. It was instinct, but in those milliseconds where we clashed, my skill increased from sloppy to master craft. Each blast turning from a sloppy burst that did more to harm myself to simple pockets of air that absorbed his blow and cushioned like car air bags.
Suddenly his crushing blows became almost too easy to block. Even then I couldn't disengage. Which meant I could only go one way. Forward. I moved into his fists, further reducing their power. I got as close to his massive frame as I could. Following up with a series of quick blows. Focusing on speed and coverage rather than power.
His body rippled, the muscles underneath slowly tenderized as I rapidly hit them, loosening them, weakening them. Making an opening for a powerful blow as he tried to deflect or punish my audacity for stepping into his domain. Before I could make the blow, he shifts and twists, his two arms barring me access and slams me back denying me my prize. I huffed, our presence clashing. Three bouts and he was already lagging. Any further for him would be dangerous, lethal even as the ki within him rapidly depleted from his overuse. His body nearing its limits even as he overdrew.
The answer, the result I could give him was easy. Even if it was internalized long ago, I could still make it flashy, I only needed the base effect. Even then, I had hit a limit with its multiplying factor, but I wasn't sure how exactly it worked. Though I imagine it overclocked my body, I had the vaguest notion that maybe it did something more. But it wasn't like I actually knew… The stupid anime dropped the skill off the map after Goku learned Super Saiyan.
Either way, I had a convenient finisher to pull out. I took my stance, slamming my foot into the ground. The ground below almost denting from the force as I prepared. I let all eyes land on me, them waiting for my retaliatory strike. It was easy to make it look more impressive than it was. Inspired by countless hours of anime from my past life.
I flexed, pulsed my ki outward like a wave as I screamed out the technique like a protagonist would.
"KAIO KEN!" My aura burst out as a bloody red aura exploded around me, shattering the flimsy perceptual barrier surrounding us. Instantly my ki flooded out, but I flexed my control, guiding it to prevent the worst of the effects, instead the crowd found themselves drowned in my bloody essence for a single moment before being dispersed by someone in the crowd.
Bruisers' eyes were wide. His body shock still.
"RUSH!" I slammed down, vanishing before the arena liberally exploded behind me. It would end in this rush, this quick rush of empowered strikes, this I knew, but… Bruiser, he did not disappoint. I thought he wouldn't move, his body frozen in shock. But I barked out a laugh even as my fist closed in on him as I felt his body pulse and scream like a mistuned engine. A familiar red aura bleeding out of him, bleeding out like a punctured hose.
Our fists met, the contact point exploding out as he kept up for a brief moment. The backlash completely shredding the fence around us as the crowd scrambled, distancing themselves from the fight. Then, he faded. His heart for a brief moment stopped as his butchered technique stopped two of his three hearts, a hit from my fist and a burst of ki instantly reviving one of them. I followed not on beating him to a pulp, but instead on beating out the out-of-control ki from his body in a frenzy of punches.
It didn't leave him unscathed though. Instead, his flesh almost exploded from each hit. As I stopped, he exploded. His blood came out as a pressurized geyser, bathing the audience in his blood as he collapsed. A moment, another moment, and… "RETTAS WINS!!!" The crowd screamed to the point of collapsing, the medical crew came out and immediately dragged him off.
His vitals rapidly recovered as they closed his wounds and performed emergency aid.
"RETTAS IS OUR NEW CHAMPION!" The words caused me to freeze. Champion? Wasn't he just the mid-upper tier? The announcer went on and on, detailing my exploits for those not in the know as I stood in the ruined ring. I wasn't sure what was going on honestly, but as I prepared to leave, I felt a flare of ki. A man leaping onto the stage. The insane crowd quieted down as if shot with a tranquilizer.
"Super Saiyan! I, THE Piston King, CHALLENGE YOU!"
We all stood dumb, unsure. Confused. I looked at the equally befuddled announcer. My gaze acting as the ignitor, his lips moving.
"AND A CHALLENGER APPROACHES!"