With a deafening crash and a showering of splintered wood, Owen went sailing through the thick, double redwood doors of the hotel. A few meters away, I stood, breathing hard, with a grin plastered on my face. Behind me lay the wreckage of what used to be a grand hall. Now, it was ruined: the white, so-clean-it-glowed banister of the stairwell was left sporadically splintered, the thick carpets ripped and tattered, and most of the various sculptures toppled and some crushed. The people had already gone, screaming in fright like the building was on fire. No security had been called, presumably because it was Owen himself who was wrecking the place, which was a blessing for me. I was barely holding on in the fight one on one. If others were added into the mix, I would be as good as done for.
So far, the score for Revives had reached five to two, with me leading. The injuries I’d gathered in the fight were enough to make any normal person faint from the pain, especially when considering every bad injury had to be followed up by an even more painful Revive. With two broken arms, one shattered collarbone, and so many broken ribs I’d lost track, I certainly had not been having the time of my life today.
Thankfully, Owen was not faring much better. Although I couldn’t claim to be winning the fight, it was getting more and more even as the fight carried on. In fact, the Revives had been helping tremendously. Every time I stood up, I could feel the power coursing through my muscles was noticeably stronger than before. After five of them, the current power I had surpassed what I had started today with by leaps and bounds. Flux was not stingy; with great pain came great gain.
With a rumbling groan, Owen sat up from the wreckage, shedding pieces of wood as he did. By now, the people roaming the sidewalks had already run off, while others had gathered in a circle, their innate curiosity overriding their fear. Of course, they still gave the strange man who had just crashed through a door a wide berth.
“How long are you going to keep this up old man? ” I asked as I stepped out of the building. “Just give up already.”
“And then what?” Owen asked. “What is your plan after this? You gonna turn me into the IG? And then? How are you and your thirty-member gang going to take over the entire operation I have set up? A small gang leader like you cannot even comprehend the logistics behind running a gang on the scale of Fight House.”
I smiled. “Well all that seems like a problem for me to figure out, doesn’t it? So don’t worry your old head about it. If I were you, I’d be more worried about how I’m gonna pass the time in the white little box IG’s gonna put me in.” Owen would be a big catch for the Toronto division of IG, though they would never come out and do it themselves. Though they claimed to be the police force of the world, they really only stepped in in dire emergencies. Usually they just left the people to their own devices. After all, society had been fundamentally changed ever since Flux had allowed humanity to revert back to the old rule of survival of the fittest. There was no going back to pre-Flux society, though strands from it were still present today.
Owen grinned at my quip. “You seem quite confident that you’re going to win this fight,” he said. As he spoke, a weird sensation of danger slowly began to coil in my gut. “Weren’t you supposed to pull out after keeping me distracted for exactly fifteen minutes, and not a second more? Haven’t you wondered why these fifteen minutes seem so much longer than usual?”
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The coil suddenly tightened, so hard it hurt. Panic spread through my brain. He’s right, it’s been way longer than fifteen minutes. Did something happen to Ren? But that doesn't explain how he knew exactly what our plans were.
Sucking in a deep breath, I calmed my racing mind, but I was a beat too slow. Taking advantage of my momentary panic, Owen had closed the gap between us almost instantly, landing a punch straight into my gut. I flew back into the hotel lobby, landing hard on the carpeted floor and rolling for a bit. I knew instantly that I had broken some ribs again; despite my Revives, my body was still not strong enough to handle a full blow from Owen.
Knowing I had to Revive before he could follow up on the attack, I quickly sucked in another breath, this one incomparably more painful. Readying myself, I closed my eyes and grit my teeth…but nothing happened. No intense wave of pain followed.
Opening my eyes again, a flash of confusion passed through me before I understood what was happening. It had happened before too, albeit never this soon. I was clearly out of practice.
It was some sort of protection mechanism, the body trying to save itself from pain. It was the same instinct that stopped you from cutting yourself on purpose, only much more powerful.
Panic struck again as I heard Owen coming up. I could almost hear the smugness in his thundering footsteps. I closed my eyes again, steeling my resolve. If my body doesn’t want to feel pain, I’ll force it to.
With a long shout, I forced myself up into a sitting position, much to Owen’s surprise. Taking advantage of that, I quickly stood up and executed the fastest backward roundhouse kick I could. Spinning on my right foot, my left heel crashed into Owen’s cheekbone before he knew what hit him.
The jarring movement brought with it undulating waves of intense pain. I grinned to myself in victory despite it, my face strained and teeth gritted. My subconscious could stop me from Reviving, but it couldn’t stop me from fighting.
However, the pain was still intense. Not the kind that sharpened my senses, it was the kind that dulled them. I could tell that my thinking was slowed, numbed. I certainly could not fight like this for long, not against Owen.
Speaking of Owen, he had just gotten up from the ground, rubbing his aching cheek. His face was darkened; the man was obviously not a fan of being kicked in the face, although I couldn't imagine why. I was still bent in pain, struggling against the agony to catch my breath, but it was pointless. My shallow breathing didn’t help much in stopping the pain, nor did it provide much oxygen.
Owen, seeing my distress, let out a savage chuckle, content that the fight was in the palm of his hand now. “Finally hit your limit, huh?” he asked as he sauntered over to me, savouring the moment.
However, his moment was cut short when a wooden pole came flying from the sky, crashing into his forehead with pinpoint accuracy.
“Whoo! Headshot!” Ren’s voice drifted down from the stairwell. A smile spread on my face, relief crashing into me as I finally got confirmation that he was alright. And now, the fight was certainly going to be much easier.