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Chapter 43

“Get him, Hunter!” Clark yelled from the side of the ring. Hunter ducked a hook, and stepped back, anticipating Rick’s follow-up kick and lunging forward to take advantage of his opponents momentary opening. He collapse rick’s leg at the knee and swept his other leg out from under him.

“The match goes to Hunter!” Instructor Immanuel said, clapping his hands, “outstanding work, Koar!”

Hunter helped Rick up, and the young man scowled, but accepted the hand.

“Good fight!” Hunter said, but Rick just shook his head and murmured something under his breath. Hunter glanced at Clark and pumped his fist. Clark mirrored the gesture.

Ricks’ bad attitude wasn’t Hunters problem. He tried to play off the win as if it were no big deal, but the shit-eating grin on Hunters face betrayed his effort. He resisted the urge to look back in Rick’s direction, the poor guy was upset enough as it was.

Rick had taken the first point, and Hunter had expected the match to go poorly, but he found that over the last few days, his body was able to keep up with his mind. He wasn’t as worried about not being able to land a good hit, or counter his opponents strength. In the last 6 days his AR had risen— at least one point for reach day, but recently it started to accelerate.

The only problem was that whatever skills he’d drilled over the last few months were needing to be relearned. He wasn’t used to the body he was growing into.

Seeing the number 16 on the AR recorder felt like something out of a dream, to him. It was over 3 times higher than what it had been when he started, and it hadn’t even been that long. But as his AR rose, his body started to change. He was hungrier, thirstier, and felt like he had an excess of energy that made it necessary to avoid coffee for the first time in his life.

Thank the heavens for decaf. There was a time when Hunter thought that decaf coffee was ridiculous, and it wasn’t until he was faced with the prospect of having to go without coffee at all that the non-caffeinated version suddenly made sense. Coffee was part of his routine at this point, and seemed to have transformed into something of a psychological trigger.

“How you feeling Hunter? Ready for the next one?” the instructor asked him. Hunter nodded. They were playing Winner Stays. This was the first time Hunter had ever won a round of sparring, and he didn’t feel the least bit tired. He was ready for whatever came next.

“Emelia, you’re up!”

Hunter frowned.

He was ready for anything except for Emelia.

“How does it feel?” she asked.

“Feels good,” Hunter said, “it’s been a long time coming.”

“Sorry for having to ruin your fun,” she said.

“Go!” the Instructor said, announcing the start of the fight before Hunter could respond.

Emelia launched herself at him, and she was fast. He stepped aside from the chopping kick at the last second, barely able to catch his balance before he saw the fist hit his chest.

“Point for Emelia, back to your positions.”

He hadn’t had much time to process what just happened. Had she always been that fast? He did his best to remember the brief encounter, and decided that the key problem was that he hadn’t been fully focused. He’d been distracted.

He shook himself out of it and focused on the fight, just before the instructor called the start of the next round.

She had apparently decided to take this round a bit more passively, waiting for Hunter to take the initiative, which he didn’t really like. He slowly closed the distance, watching for any tension in her body, any sign that she would suddenly change her mind and attack.

When he was within three feet, she threw out a punch which Hunter blocked with ease, and he kept his eyes peeled for any follow up. She was keeping her posture tight, not letting herself create an opening for him to take advantage of as far as her upper body went, but her lower body was still game.

The idea that she was anticipating his train of thought couldn’t be dismissed, but he couldn’t think of an alternative.

He wondered how strong he was compared to her, now.

He dropped his posture a bit, leaning forward slightly, trying to reduce the size difference between them. He sent out a few testing jabs in response to hers, and aimed a kick at her thigh, which she avoided, stepping in way to close for comfort. Hunter braced himself for her to try and sweep him off his feet, and sent out a desperate undercut towards her stomach.

It hit, and lucky for him, it hit at an angle that the instructor could see.

“Point for Hunter! You’re getting sloppy, Emelia!”

Emelia growled in frustration.

“I would have had you,” she said, as she went back to her starting position. What could Hunter say? All he could do was take the small victory he’d been given.

Could he do it again?

Suddenly, the prospect of winning his second round in a row against Emelia wasn’t just a slim possibility.

He would just have to be smarter than her, and that meant either one of two things. Beating her at her own game, or refusing to play the game altogether.

“Go!”

They both approached each other. Her loss had apparently been enough of an excuse for her to take this match a bit more seriously. He saw a focus in her that usually wasn’t there, and he knew that his chances of winning appeared to decrease by a significant degree.

Hunter decided to mirror her starting strategy. He kicked out, but instead of trying to dodge it she blocked it and backstepped just enough to ensure that he wouldn’t be in range to follow up with something else.

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He did the smart thing and waited to see how she responded. She spun and threw out a back-kick, somehow launching herself towards him fast enough that the kick actually took him by surprise, even if he saw the wind up. He backpedaled, but knew that it was a mistake because he’d just given her an opportunity to build momentum. So he started to move forward again, hoping to take her by surprise and score another undercut to her stomach. But she had spun away from him, and was reaching for his arm. He knew what that meant, having a sudden flashback to their previous fight. Hunter jumped stepped back, pulling his arm as fast as he could. She grinned when she saw that he knew what she was up to.

Despite her casual attitude, her intensity increased a notch. She swept her foot out suddenly, and Hunter expected a kick but then she spun, kicking her foot back towards him and then lunged at him, leaning slightly away from him enough that her body was nearly horizontal with the ground, and spinning in the air. Hunter was mesmerized for a second, having never seen this before, but it was almost like he could hear Aera’s voice telling him to stay focused

She completed a full spin in the air and then kicked as she landed, which looked like it would hit him in the shoulder, so he pushed himself to the side, away from the edge of the ring.

Hunter stumbled, suddenly. He watched in what felt like slow-motion as Emelia landed, and seeing that he’d repositioned, pivoted on the foot she’d landed on and kicked towards him with the other. Had he been an inch further from her, it wouldn’t have hit.

Alas, it hit with enough force to do the work that gravity had been struggling to do itself, and hunter was knocked onto his back.

“The match goes to Emelia! For future reference, this is not a gymnastics class, those are held tomorrow, and I don’t run them. Impressive, though,” the Inspector said while inspecting a nail, his voice was utterly flat.

He looked up at Hunter.

“Nice try, kid. Next up is Johnny!”

“Good fight,” Emelia called as she went to her starting position and Hunter left. He suddenly felt a bit like he imagined Rick had, but he decided not to be a poor sport about the loss. After all, he had won a fight today, and scored a point on her.

“Good fight,” he replied.

“No one expected her to go ninja mode on you. You can barely blame yourself for that loss,” Clark said as Hunter sat down beside him, keeping his voice low so that the inspector wouldn’t call him out for disrupting the match.

Hunter shrugged.

“I didn’t know that people could even do that. It was all a blur.”

Emelia had done something he’d never seen before and he’d lost because he wasn’t prepared. Next time, he’d have a way to respond. He’d talk to Aera about it when he had a chance. They wouldn’t have martial arts training tonight, but he could bring it up during their session tomorrow.

“Listen, Hunter. You’ve been doing really good so far,” Clark said, his tone getting a bit deeper.

“Oh, thanks man,” Hunter said, not expecting the sudden praise.

“Seriously, I’ve noticed the difference in you since you’ve started. I don’t think anyone else has been pushing themselves as hard as you have. I personally think it's admirable, and that’s what I look for in the people I want to spend my time around.”

Hunter just smiled and patted Clark on the shoulder.

“Thanks, I appreciate it,” Hunter said, uncertain about how he was supposed to act when he was being complimented. It seemed like a glaring blind spot in his social repertoire. Did people write books on social etiquette? Maybe he could find some help at the library.

Clark seemed to pick up on Hunters awkwardness and shook his head with a smile.

“Look, I'm telling you this because me and a few others who share a similar outlook on life are gonna be hanging out this evening. I think you’d get along with them, there might be an opportunity for you to make some great connections. You interested?”

Hunter’s first instinct was to say no, but he hesitated.

Who did he want to be? He didn’t need to be afraid of people anymore. He’d just won his first fight— sure it was under controlled conditions, but so what?

Clark had said that the people at the gathering would be people who admired hard work— maybe he would find that they were kind of like him, all devoted to some sort of excellence.

It could be fun.

It could be incredibly awkward, but should he deny himself the opportunity to find out for himself?

“Sure,” he said, still feeling like he was going a bit too far out of his comfort zone than he wanted to be, “I’ll be there. Just let me know when and where. But if its past 7pm I won’t be able to make it.”

Aera would be pissed if he canceled. She seemed to find a lot of value in Hunters advice regarding her budding interest in constructs and etherium. Although he could tell her heart wasn’t really in it. Her interest seemed to be more in the realm of brute-forcing her way into being the best. He’d spoken his mind on the matter, and she was still just as devoted as ever to wasting her time, but that wasn’t any of his business. His end of the deal was to show up and answer questions.

“No problem, we typically get together around 4:30 or 5. Give me your number after class and I’ll let you know.”

Hunter agreed. Once class was over, he gave his number to Clark and went home. On his way, he realized he had forgotten to give Mrs. Verilion a call to tell her about trying to set up a meeting between Trey and Professor Jackson. As soon as he got home, he dialed her number.

“Hello, Hunter! How are things at Barnum?” Mrs. Verilion asked as soon as she picked up.

“How did you know it was me?” Hunter asked, feeling like it was going to be a day of surprises. His AR had hit 16, he’d won a fight, been invited out to attend a meeting with like minded individuals, and now there were magical ways to tell who was calling you?

“New tech that Oberon is launching next month. A much smaller phone with a little display that can show pre-programmed numbers and names you’ve attached to them. Neat, huh? It’s small enough to fit in your pocket,” she said, and Hunter wondered if she’d done some time in sales at some point in her career.

“Do I get one of those?” he asked.

“You’ll get one mailed to you a few days before they hit stores.”

It was a day for surprises indeed, Hunter thought.

“Is it etherium based?” He asked, wondering if he’d get to study some new network schematics. Oberon never officially grabbed a piece of his fathers wireless etherium network that was built around the world, but that didn’t mean Oberon couldn’t make their own.

“Heavens, no. Much more mundane, but its still impressive. I was skeptical at first, but then they showed me the final product and how it flips open and closed, and I was hooked.”

Hunter felt like he needed to get this brand new, top of the line technology as soon as possible. He’d never cared much about studying electronics, but that didn’t mean he thought that any tech outside of constructs were dull.

“The reason why I called was because I wanted to know if Trey had ever heard of a man named Dr. Arbutus Jackson?” Hunter asked. He was holding the professors card in his hands, which he’d snagged after his last class with the man.

“Boot-is.”

“Excuse me?” Hunter asked, wondering if she’d been talking to someone else.

“It’s pronounced Ar-boot-is, and yes, Mr. Oberon is well acquainted with the man. In fact, he’s become the majority sponsor of the professors work, especially after he finished his most recent paper. I’ve heard some whispers about bringing him into the company on a full-time basis, but you didn’t hear that from me,” she said. And Hunter was suddenly intrigued.

“What do you mean? What’s Oberon Enterprise’s interest in ancient history?”

“You’ll have to ask Trey about that personally, I'm afraid,” Mrs. Verilion said, “he doesn’t keep me in the loop with certain things.”

For some reason, Hunter doubted that.

“I’m curious, how many people are walking around with the newest generation of mobile phones a month in advance?” he asked.

“It’s been great to hear from you, Hunter, but I'm afraid I'm quite busy today. Do make some time to give Mr. Oberon a call, he loves to hear from you both personally. Have a great day,” she said, hanging up the phone.

“Thought so,” Hunter said to no one in particular. The mystery of the Asutnahem got deeper and deeper. The professor had said that the Asutnahem knew about the edge of the world, and he wondered if that’s what his last paper had been about.

What was Trey’s interest in that? Had they found something that confirmed the professors theory? Was it a profitable discovery, or something that Trey was willing to invest heavily into in order to scratch an itch?

Hunter was itching to find out too, but he knew that if there was anyone more busy than Mrs. Verilion, it was Trey Oberon. He’d call him later that night to find out what was going on.