TUSMON VS. RUSA
“I figured out how you were dodging all those shots,” Rusa declared immediately once the fight started.
“Oh, did Phon tell you that to?” Tusmon asked with annoyance as he reloaded his pistols.
“No, I figured it out myself,” the girl answered with a hint of pride. “It only took a few seconds after watching you and knowing the basis of your Curse. Thinking about how it must pertain to evidence, there’s only one obvious answer: impacts and trajectories.”
“Studying bullet holes and impact wounds are some of the key points of evidence analysis, is it not? It’s very important to know where shots and attacks came from after all. Your Curse must let you see those bits of evidence and immediately know the trajectory of the attacks. However, your eye works in real time, letting you see the crime as it’s happening, not just the evidence it leaves behind. Am I correct?”
“Yes,” Tusmon answered flatly, not denying anything. He then fired a shot at Rusa without warning and was completely unfazed when it missed. “And your Curse does something similar. You may not be able to see where I’m aiming exactly, but from my movements and the angle of the gun, you’re able to calculate it and act accordingly. It would seem that either of us trying to attack from a distance is pointless.”
“I concur,” Rusa rushed at him and tried to do a swinging kick at his head, but he dodged easily, knowing where she was going to attack. “And let me guess, your eye also works for close-range moves, and you could tell the direction I was headed based on my footsteps.”
Tusmon responded with a punch back at her, but she jumped off to the side. “Right again. It seems it's all out in the open. And with that in mind. This is going to suck, isn’t it?”
And suck it did. In the exact opposite of the blink of an eye, an hour finally passed, though it felt like several more. The pair had been jabbing at each other relentlessly, yet neither dared to get too close to the other. It was a never ending brawl of swings, punches, kicks, jukes, none of which ever connected. Tusmon could see every action Rusa was going to take, while Rusa could study his body and figure out his intentions.
Stolen novel; please report.
Both knew each other's moves before they even had a chance to land. It was like watching children pretend to hit each other, scared that they’d get in trouble if it got out of hand. What started as an interesting dynamic quickly delved into the most boring fight of the competition, at least for the spectators. The only time something unique or interesting happened was when one would pick up a piece of shrapnel or a manhole cover left behind by Kalter and attempt to use it to no avail.
After a long span of neither opponent getting closer to winning, the crowd started getting restless. Some took breaks to stretch their legs and get food, while others left the arena entirely—watching the feed on their phones as they explored Drome Coli just in case they needed to suddenly return.
《Drim: And that’s how I met The Angler.》
The commentator had started telling any stories he could think of to help pass the time, especially those that might be otherwise unknown to the general public and would interest them. But Drim eventually started running out of anything compelling that wasn’t also at least mildly confidential. A few of the others stopped by and chatted with him a bit until they too got bored and had to leave.
At some point , to give Drim a break, they switched half the monitors in the stadium to random episodes of Fiend TV, and Chorus eventually gave in and let them broadcast something new. For those watching at home, the new content became the focus of the screen, with Tusmon and Rusa still duking it out, minimized to a corner that viewers practically had to squint to see.
More hours passed until they were well into the night. Both Fiends had slowed down immensely, their movements getting sluggish, but they still pressed on and fought tirelessly, never stopping for even a second. And then it finally happened, the clock ticked midnight.
Rusa suddenly stopped moving the moment she aged up a year. She jumped backwards away from her opponent and took a few calming breaths. The woman was now reinvigorated. All of her fatigue was washed away, and she was ready to fight again, endlessly, and yet…
“I surrender,” Rusa raised her hand in defeat. “This is boring. I’ve already wasted most of a year of my life on this. I can’t take it for even another second. Gonna go sit and read.”
“Uuaahhh?” Rallie yawned. “It’s finally over? Oh, uhh, Tusmon wins! ...yay… I’m going to bed. We’ll be back tomorrow with more Fiend fights. It’ll be much more engaging than this, I promise. But it better not be bright and early. Swear to Cosmos if it’s bright and early…”
~Unfulfilled Wish~
Rusa: Faster internet and technology speed. Too Cosdamn slow to keep up with my insatiable need for new content.