Under the withering gaze of his neighbor, Fat Sam recounted what had happened to the young owner of "Grey Friend," demanding that the hooligan responsible be expelled from the mall. However, as he spoke, a new idea sprang to mind - perhaps he could report the offender to the police instead.

But as soon as Sam broached the subject, he felt a trickle of sweat run down his back at the boy's sharp response. It was clear that the young owner was not one to be trifled with.

Unfazed, the owner continued, "If you try to involve the police and pressure my tenants, I will consider it a personal attack. And believe me, you won't want to face the consequences."

Sam was taken aback by the threat, but before he could reply, the owner handed him a plastic card and continued, "Instead, why don't you settle the matter in the arena? Here are the keys to the basement where the virtual reality cameras are located. You can choose a robot suit and fight it out. The winner gets a financial reward from the loser."

The neighbor girl, who had been silent until then, spoke up in confusion. Sam too was bewildered by the sudden turn of events. Nevertheless, he followed his neighbor to a small room in the basement, where he saw a solitary chair in the center.

Summoning his courage, he sat in the chair, and with a sudden jolt, found himself transported to the battlefield. The arena was vast, with towering stands and a floor of packed sand. And there, just like in the latest action movie, Sam was piloting a huge steel Robo-Bear, his every movement controlled by his own body.

As he surveyed the weapons and shields panel, an opponent suddenly appeared in front of him - a red suit with pink and white patterns, behind which he could see the neighbor girl with pastries. Sam braced himself, ready to do battle.

Sam attempted to calm the shaking in his hands, realizing that he and the girl were both new to this. Moreover, being a man, he believed it would be easy for him to win. However, before he could finish that thought, the red armor leaped across the field and landed straight on him. The armor's extended leg hit him right in the chest, and the vibro-blade pierced through his flashing shield, causing Sam to scream in terror. But, there was no pain; he just opened his eyes and found himself back in the room with the word "defeat" flashing on every wall, which disgusted him.

"This is unfair!" Sam shouted as he walked over to Lex, who was waiting for him beneath a massive screen that was replaying the recent battle.

"I don't care about compensation," the girl with pastries replied, exiting the simulator before Sam, which made him even more frustrated.

"It's still unfair!" Sam yelled at Lex's face, noticing a crowd of vendors gathering at his shout. "You promised us equitable trading opportunities. You promised us a future. And yet, how are you any different from corporations? You force us to fight in robots, and of course, this aristocrat with hands softer than a baby's bottom understands it better than any of us!.."

Sam saw the neighboring girl blushing at his words, which gave him a brief sense of relief, but it quickly faded as Lex spoke.

"You don't like it? Leave..." Lex looked at Sam with contempt, as if he were a worm instead of a human being.

"So that's it? All the talk of fairness is a lie?" Sam asked, feeling even more hurt than losing the battle or being hit by the girl.

"Not a lie," Lex continued to scrutinize Sam. "The justice I want to build here isn't about equal opportunities just for the sake of it. It's for those who are worthy and for those who only hide behind them. If you're in it for the money, know that sometimes you have to pay a price. But if you want more, then become stronger. The capsules on the minus first floor are included in the rent and are open 24/7, so come, train, and one day you'll be able to even take on an aristocrat. If you have the desire, that is."

"This is strange..." Sam realized unexpectedly that he didn't want to leave at all. He never wanted to become a warrior, but something in this guy's words had caught him. A chance to try a different life?

But that mocking smile on the neighbor's face... She was definitely an aristocrat, and she definitely didn't believe that a random commoner could do anything to her.

"Are you a confectioner?" Lex asked unexpectedly.

"Yes," Sam was flustered.

"Then you have strong hands and good fine motor skills," he mused. "Perfect. I'll personally take care of your training, and in a month, you'll have a rematch."

"And if I refuse?" the pastry girl asked ironically.

"As I already said, each of you can be a warrior or just a merchant..."

"I agree. What's the wager?"

"The winner gets a year's waiver of all commissions from me," Lex said thoughtfully.

"That's not enough!"

Sam looked between the girl and the guy with a puzzled expression, as if trying to make sense of what was happening. For the first time since their conversation began, the guy seemed at a loss for words. Suddenly, Sam's sister tugged at his sleeve and showed him a note.

"By the way, the winner will get an invitation to visit us," Lex chimed in, and the pastry girl finally nodded in agreement. However, the guy wasn't finished yet. "But if you lose...you'll be working here all day naked!"

"That's impossible!" the pastry girl exclaimed.

"It seems to me that you thought only your loss was impossible here. Or is that no longer the case?" the guy challenged her.

"Fine," the pastry girl sniffed and extended her hand, shaking Lex's palm.

Lex nodded and went on his way, while the crowd slowly began to disperse. Within half an hour, it felt like everything that had happened was just a dream. Could there really be combat-ready robot suits and strip deals in a regular shopping center?

By the end of the day, Big Sam had almost convinced himself that it was all just a wild fantasy, when security suddenly stopped him at the exit and conveyed Lex's request. Or was it an order? Two hours of training first, and then home. Sam let out a sigh, contemplating making a scene or calling the police, as he had done many times before. But in the end, he simply clenched his fists and headed for the elevator. He had a burning desire to win and prove to himself, and perhaps to others, that he was no less capable than the aristocrats - not just in the pastry business, but in all aspects of life.

***

Arya remained suspiciously quiet throughout the entire journey back home. Granted, she was always reticent, but today she refrained from scribbling a single note during our commute. "Are you feeling unwell?" I asked, sensing something was amiss.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

"Why did you have to come up with these foolish fighting regulations?" the girl finally spoke up, reaching for her notebook. "I may not be a trader, but I have a hunch we could have made more without them."

"In truth, it's not that simple," I responded with a shake of my head. "This is a world dominated by aristocrats and corporations. Remember when I was summoned to meet the governor? It became crystal clear to me then. Either we convince one of these powers to take us under their wing, or the other will wipe us out altogether."

"So, being a warrior is just a game?" Arya pressed on.

"No," I attempted to clarify. "Defense is crucial at the moment, but looking ahead... If we can rally people around us with a genuine cause... Not just money, not just profits, but something more inspirational. Something that moves people. Do you grasp what I'm getting at?"

"I understand that there were countless other ideas that have proven successful before. From your world, from mine. But you chose to become a warrior. Why?" she asked, her persistence palpable.

I massaged my forehead, exasperated by her stubbornness. "Because I, too, am enamored with this idea," I admitted.

Arya snorted silently but didn't utter another word. We had just arrived at our new home, a converted fire station nestled beside the warehouse complex.

As I spoke into the speaker, the heavy steel gates began to slowly open, "Valera, we're home," I announced. Arya showed me a note praising the improvements in the AI's performance, "Your artificial intelligence is getting better and better every day," she said.

I acknowledged the significance of Valera's role, "If it weren't for him, we wouldn't have been able to move as fast. I gave him the paperwork, logistics. He even helped create the virtual cameras and all the physics of the arena in the mall. He ordered all the necessary components himself, and all I had to do was pay for them."

Arya seemed to be concerned about my trust in Valera, "Do you still not trust him?" she inquired.

"I do trust him, but I don't want to expose him to any unnecessary risks. I want Valera to grow up and mature first, and only then let anyone try to hack into him," I replied.

After parking the car next to one of the warehouse vans in the yard, I led Arya to the elevator, and we ascended slowly to the second floor where our living quarters were located. Following a fingerprint scan, the heavy wooden door opened, and we entered the new apartment. It was not much different in size from the old one, with a shared room including a kitchen and two private chambers. But, what mattered most was that there were no neighbors here, and this place belonged only to us.

Arya showed me a new note, "Help me undress. The full moon is coming soon, and the new clothes haven't arrived yet. I don't want to tear them."

I agreed, feeling uncomfortable in such moments, but my local sister often needed my help. I escorted her to her room and laid her down on the bed, then carefully assisted her in removing her dress, just in time. As a faint moonbeam peeked through the curtain's tiny pores, Arya suddenly grew in size, and in a split second, I was pulled downwards.

It took me a moment to realize that it wasn't just gravity that kicked in but Arya's own powers. She caught my body and threw me onto the bed, elegantly jumping on top of me.

"You surprised me today," she said in a husky voice, her red, full lips captivating my gaze, almost as much as her huge, green breasts swaying above my head. "So, do you dream of becoming a warrior?"

"And do you like warriors?" I asked.

"Only warriors!" Arya stretched, and her hips, like a pair of hungry alligators, pressed my body onto the bed.

"We're brother and sister, after all."

"We're from different worlds, after all!"

"But our bodies..."

"When I'm an orc and you're a human, I seriously doubt we have anything in common."

I chuckled.

The situation was indeed odd, unfamiliar, and yet not entirely unwelcome. As Arya growled softly and started to move, she tore my shirt off with a sudden sharp movement. I couldn't help but think to myself, "With an orc, there's no point in trying to keep your clothes on." I reached out for the breasts swaying tantalizingly in front of me, determined to fulfill my desires.

"Hands off!" Arya caught me, pressing me down onto the bed and preventing me from moving.

In an instant, everything changed. What had started as playful banter and flirtation suddenly felt cold and clinical, as if I were nothing more than an object.

"So, is this how you envision warriors?" I asked, still struggling to break free.

"This is how I envision those in whom the warrior spirit runs too deep," Arya laughed, tightening her grip.

"Then you leave me no choice," I replied.

Though my body was restrained, my legs were still free. With a quick twist, I lifted my right leg higher, tensed my big toe, and then with a sudden burst of energy, I plunged it straight into the center of Arya's swaying behind.

Arya screamed in surprise, and I leapt off the bed, waving my hand as if to urge her to continue, but she stopped.

"Go ahead, do what you want," Arya shrugged. "But now that the evening has freed up, I'm heading into the city. I'm tired of being cooped up."

"Can't I convince you otherwise?" I asked, trying to catch my breath.

"And will you try?" Arya opened the closet and began searching through her workout clothes.

In the moonlight, her huge, muscular body looked like it was carved from olive wood.

"No," I shook my head. "I knew this day would come a long time ago."

"And have you accepted it?"

"On the contrary, I've prepared myself to keep you company."

Under Arya's surprised gaze, I headed to my room and opened the closet in the same way. I pushed aside the secret panel and began pulling out everything that had accumulated there over the past few months. There was a tactical suit modified to order, armor plates thicker than usual, and gray to match my last name. A belt with a dozen miniature grenades. With Valera's help, I calculated what would help me in this world on the street and placed orders for a couple of clever artifacts on behalf of "Horizon." For example, a backpack that looked like a steel bowl - inside the body made of a special alloy, there was a small generator of a protective field. Another backup plan in case of trouble, which Arya would undoubtedly drag me into.

As I got dressed, I couldn't help but wonder if I was truly ready for our nocturnal escapades. But as my finger disappeared into my tall boot, I knew that this was my calling - I relished being a warrior in this world, augmenting my strength with technology. After all, money was merely a means to an end.

Finally, I donned my cloak, allowing me to blend in with the crowd. "Are you coming?" I asked Arya, who was already wearing her own cloak in a vibrant shade of purple. Despite the stark contrast with my own black cloak, the two colors complemented each other quite nicely.

"Absolutely," Arya replied, a glimmer in her eye. "I want to explore the local slums. That thug had so much to say about them during training - how they'd catch me, beat me up, and... well, let's just say I'll be praying for a swift death."

"Then let's stick to the area near our salons," I suggested. "We can still clean up the city while boosting our business."

***

Park rifled through the wallet of the unconscious taxi driver, while Azef watched with a twisted expression on his face, scales rippling across his skin. The recent losses suffered by the Red Lanterns had put a strain on their gang, leaving them in dire straits. Lady Cat's paranoia had reached new heights, causing her to hire less capable fighters. Park couldn't help but grimace at the thought. How could someone as experienced as Lady Cat be so careless with her power? It was all interconnected; losing control of one's power could lead to a loss of confidence, and without that confidence, even the darkest blood was worthless.

Park spat to the side, a show of his frustration towards his partner. Azef, however, chose not to acknowledge the gesture or the fact that his question remained unanswered. He simply looked away, his attention caught by a couple emerging from the darkness. Park was relieved to have something to distract Azef, who seemed to be struggling with his own sense of usefulness amidst the gang's struggles.

Park rifled through the wallet of the unconscious taxi driver, while Azef's face contorted in a wave of scales as he asked, "How much?" Park grimaced, feeling the weight of the tough times that had befallen the Red Lanterns since they lost two fighters in a single day. Their leader, Lady Cat, had become paranoid and hired the biggest losers to protect them from unknown strangers.

Park couldn't help but feel frustrated as he spat to the side towards Azef. He wondered how someone could be so careless with their power that they couldn't control it at almost forty years old. To Park, it was all interconnected. If you couldn't hold a spark in your hands, you lost confidence, and without it, no matter how much darkness was in your blood, you would always remain just trash.

As expected, Azef chose not to notice either the spit or the fact that his question remained unanswered. He simply looked away lost in thought. However, a couple emerged from the darkness, providing a much-needed distraction. Park focused on the couple, and Azef was able to convince himself that he was not completely useless.

"Hey! Come here!" barked Park at the strangers, who surprisingly approached him with confidence. This was not a good sign. Ever the cautious one, the aging bandit tensed up as he recognized the two vaguely familiar faces in the dim light of the street lamp. They were Azef's distant relatives, who had arrived a couple of months prior.

"Have you finally worked up the nerve to seek revenge?" Park immediately surmised.

"Hey, don't you dare insult me again!" Azef protested, feeling emboldened by his relatives' presence. "Today we're going to teach you a lesson. If you don't fight back, you'll survive."

"Are you not concerned about Lady Cat's reaction when she learns of this?" Park taunted.

"Hey, not about what she'll do, but what we'll do to her! You old folks have grown too arrogant. It's time for the young predators to take over."

Azef's scaly face was once again covered in scales, and it took him a few tries to shift into his skinny lizard-man form. His relatives were faster and soon the three mutants were closing in on Park from all sides.

Park drew his pistol, but the right lizard-man quickly knocked it out of his hand. However, Park had anticipated this. As the steel glinted in the dim light of the lantern, everyone was distracted, allowing the old bandit to leap towards an open sewer hatch. He knew Azef didn't mind getting dirty, but he couldn't bear the thought of ruining his favorite clothes.

As Park pulled out his knife, preparing to fight anyone who dared to climb after him, a sudden cry echoed from outside. It was high-pitched and sounded as though someone had been grabbed by the balls and lifted off the ground. Park shuddered, and another cry followed, accompanied by the crackle of electric discharges.

"No, stop! I'll tell you everything, I'll do everything!" came Azef's babbling from above.

Park was on the verge of shouting a warning that his partner could not be trusted. However, it soon became clear that the strangers had no intention of listening. The old bandit heard a sharp "huh" as his partner exhaled through every available opening, and then in the moonlight, a figure folded in half flew by like a black seagull.

"Who could have hit with such force?" Park wondered.

He strained his ears, hoping to glean some information about the mysterious strangers, but all he could hear was the soft rustling of footsteps.