Mai flexed her arm whilst running her tongue over her teeth. As soon as she had entered the Culling’s circle nanites had cured every ailment and physical weakness in her body.
I’m born again! It was a taste of what the rulers of the city experienced every day. At least it was to her understanding.
Every single scar was gone as well. Her skin was utterly free from blemishes and she smiled at the clarity of everything she looked at. The Celestial Court was fixated with perfection, although only those citizens with access to advanced nanites, like those on the eighth mile or above, could access HEALING which would remove scarring. It didn’t stop them wanting to emulate the lower milers, however. No matter where people were from, tattoo templates and even duelling battle scars were something to be worn at will, nanites adding or removing them, as necessary.
Didn’t realise I was getting short-sighted, she looked about her, enjoying her new-found clarity of vision.
“You think you’re getting away with this?”
The shock of the sudden healing had completely made her forget her pursuers. Turning, she laughed at the state of the thugs who had chased her. Not one of them was without some sort of injury.
Unskilled at free running, they’d tried to rely on their Thug Profession’s skills instead. She counted at least three arms and legs with bones jutting out, indicating compound fractures, whilst others clutching at their chests as if they’d broken their ribs and even a few missing teeth.
BLEEDING, STUNNED, and CRIPPLED glyphs hung above them. They grimaced as they activated their HEALING skills, nanites forcing the yellow bones back beneath their skin, teeth growing back out of their gums.
“Come get me.” She moved to the very edge of the Culling’s Quest Circle. Even leaned her head slightly forward, baring her teeth in a challenge.
Snarling, one of them grabbed at her, trying to pull her from the circle. With a yelp and the sound of sizzling flesh, he jerked his hand back.
“Oh, got a booboo? Tell you what, join the Culling and you can have a go at me,” she raised her hands in a fighting guard, throwing a couple of punches, making sure she didn’t hit the edge of the circle by mistake.
“You won’t last past the first day. The one milers will kill you, slow.” He drew his finger slowly across his throat.
Mai’s mouth dried at the threat. The people living on and below the one-mile limit of the city were the most desperate of all. Their Social Scores would never recover and those at the true bottom of the city were from families which had been there for centuries. Millenia even.
Her mind raced as she finally grasped the full ramifications of her action. Not only had she run from the sewers, but she was now entered into a life-or-death competition.
It’s the only way I can get back to Li. If I win this, we’re set for life, even to her that thought seemed hollow. She wasn’t a born killer, and from what she knew of most of the Culling entrants, the guard who had spoken was right, they were utter psychos.
STEP AWAY FROM THE CULLER!
The warning was both audio and visual, popping up onto her retinal monitor as well as filling her ears.
A drone zipped over to hover above Mai’s head. A hyper-velocity small calibre minigun popped out of its casing whilst laser targeting dots appeared on the foreheads of all of the thugs.
“Yeah, step away fuckers,” laughed Mai as pedestrians scattered in all directions. If there was one thing every loyal citizen of the Emperor learned, it was that you didn’t want to be anywhere near trouble.
The thug drew a finger across his throat once more and then led his battered group away.
CULLER FOLLOW ME
Another guideline appeared as the drone rotated and then hovered away, a red FOLLOW ME sign floating above it. As she followed it pedestrians started to clap, calling out for her name, wishing her luck, wishing her dead.
Heartbroken at the loss of her friend, shocked at seeing someone she’d been close to being killed in front of her, adrenaline still coursing through her veins after the chase, and now deluged with praise and scorn at the same time, Mai stumbled along.
How the Hells am I ever going to get back to Li? She tried to gather her racing thoughts, to get her emotions in check. Grief warred with anger, hope with despair. If I make it to the top one hundred, I’ll ascend, become part of the Celestial Court and then Li and I will be set for life!
***
The journey to her new home passed in a blur. First the drone led her to a monorail where she gratefully sank into the seat, ignoring the stares of the people around her. Grief, shock, and exhaustion took their toll and she slipped into a deep sleep, waking only when the drone gave her a light shock.
Rubbing at her eyes she glanced at her retinal monitor to check the time. Nearly three hours had passed since the monorail had pulled out of the station. Looking around, she saw she was the only passenger still in the carriage.
The drone moved towards her, stun gun crackling.
CULLER, EXIT THE CARRIAGE
Mai held her hands up, rapidly standing and heading to the open carriage door. Stepping onto the station platform, she spotted a single person roughly thirty paces away, standing in a pool of darkness, a glyph above their head marking them out as a Cull Master.
SPEAK TO THE CULL MASTER
DO YOU ACCEPT YES/NO?
She pressed YES. It wasn’t as if she had an option. She’d entered the Culling and it would be pointless to refuse to speak to the one person who could help her find out what she needed to do.
“Welcome Culler, you have taken a brave step,” their voice was husky, soft. “Walk with me, I shall take you to your barracks. You can meet the other cullers tomorrow in the morning.”
Mai glanced around, even though she had known the time she hadn’t actually parsed that it was evening. Looking back, she saw the Cull Master walking casually away from her.
Sighing, she hurried to catch up.
“You will have noticed that you’ve been assigned a number. It’s assigned randomly. We have cullers who have been signed up since the last culling. You are one of the last to join. Congratulations, we hit quota this evening. Tomorrow will see training start.”
Cull Master leading, they exited the station. A large building loomed in front of them with bright ads proclaiming that it was a Culling training zone.
“Before we enter, I must warn you. This will be nothing like your time in the sewers,” at Mai’s sudden head swivel the Cull Master chuckled. “Yes, I know everything about you, including your sister Li. Sweet child. Missing you awfully. I wouldn’t.”
A blade appeared at Mai’s throat, the Cull Master suddenly behind her. She relaxed the fist she had made.
“Those that swing twice, die. Every. Time.” The blade was gone, and the Cull Master was in front of her again. “What’s coming next won’t be easy. You may not even survive to get into the Culling.”
“Wait, what?” Mai asked, stomach knotting. “I thought we were meant to fight each other in the Culling.”
“Oh you are,” they laid a hand on her shoulder, “but the training is very selective. I’m sure you’ll do well.”
The Cull Master’s hand slowly trailed off her shoulder, the touch light enough to raise goose bumps.
“I should warn you, if you try to start fights, or try to cull someone without permission from one of the instructors, you will be eradicated. It would be a shame to lose someone such as you. I don’t know why, but I’m drawn to you. I have a good feeling.”
“But if someone attacks me?” Mai tilted her head, trying to work out whether the Cull Master was usually this chatty, or it was because she was drawn to her. She really hoped that drawn wasn't a euphemism for attracted, as the Cull Master set her nerves on edge.
“Then by all means feel free to defend yourself until either a drone or an instructor intervenes. Just be careful not to kill them.”
They continued walking, neither speaking. Mai’s mind was racing.
All I want to do is get back to Li, get back to my old life. I promise, I’ll be good this time! She wasn’t sure who she was promising to, but hoped that some god, somewhere was listening.
***
A buzzer sounded the next morning and Mai sat up quickly, her head slamming into the bunk above hers. Stars exploded in eyes and she yelped in pain.
DAMAGE! 3%
HEALTH – 97%
It had been late when she’d arrived at the Culling bunkhouse and she had numbly followed a guideline to the bunk with her glyph on it. All the other inductees were fast asleep.
Climbing under her covers she hadn’t thought she’d be able to fall asleep, especially as a couple of the others in the room were snoring fit to burst.
“Suck it up. You’re going to feel a lot worse when I’m done with you,” growled the owner of the bunk above her. He’d been one of the snorers. His accent showed that he wasn’t from her level.
Dropping down off his bunk took a while. When he finally landed he was out of breath. He was fat. Fatter than any person she’d ever seen. Buddha looked positively sleek compared to him.
Cheeks so puffy that his eyes seemed to be permanently closed, it seemed he had taken an instant dislike to her. She didn’t know why he was so antagonistic towards her, but just the fact that he’d snored so loudly had made her dislike him before they even spoke.
She said nothing. Upon arrival at the Culling base she had been told in no uncertain terms that fighting would not be tolerated. Punishments were extreme and a culler would be eradicated as the Cull Master had put it.
Naturally, a couple of cullers hadn’t believed it. In the middle of the night she’d been awoken by a fight further down the room. From the sounds of it, someone was either in the wrong gang or smelled, it was hard to tell from their accents. Those from the lower levels tended to speak a lot quicker than those at the higher levels. Watching the holodramas, she’d always been amused by the slow drawl of the actors playing ten-milers. It sounded as though they were trying to speak as slowly as possible whilst their mouth was full of plums.
Still, the fighting had only lasted as long as it took the drones to arrive. There hadn’t even been a warning. One second people were fighting, the next they were being blasted apart by hypervelocity needles or turned into human candles by flamethrowers.
Their bunk room was now short of five one milers and even a couple of eight milers. Obviously the one-milers had singled out the eight-milers for some special attention. Taking advantage of the eight-miler’s reputation for being nothing more than pampered mummy’s boys. The smell of their burnt flesh still lingered.
Bending down to get the wash bag she had been assigned, she was completely unprepared for her bunk mate’s attack. It was subtle, a mere hip bump, but it sent her sprawling.
With a crack she felt more than heard her head slam into the bed frame once again. She rolled onto the mattress, clutching at her head.
DAMAGE! 2%
She hated those reminders of her vulnerability but there was no way to shut any official messages off. You just learned from an early age to ignore them. Back in her old life it hadn’t really mattered. Now though, she was beginning to think it was going to be a matter of life or death in some situations.
“Oops. Sorry, my fault. I’m clumsy.”
As much as it hurt her to do, she bit down on a retort. Having seen what the drones did to the cullers who broke the rules, she was in no way going to give them a reason to cull her. He leered at her, baring his teeth slightly, eyes so narrow they practically disappeared.
“I said, I’m sorry,” he leaned in, his morning breath washing over her like a particularly rancid fart.
“Not a problem. Probably couldn’t see me over the curve of your fat gut.” Maybe she wasn’t so good at biting her lip after all.
“Why you …” he didn’t get to finish his sentence as a message popped up on their retinas.
ATTENTION: CULLERS TO ATTEND BRIEFING ROOM
DO YOU ACCEPT YES/NO?
Stabbing YES without a second thought she rolled off her bunk, slipped past him with a smile and a simper, and followed the guideline, nodding to the other cullers as they followed their own lines. Some returned the nods with friendly smiles. Those were rare.
Most either glared in a way they thought was intimidating – it rarely was – or shied away. She made a note of both. But mostly she looked at the latter.
A lot had puffy eyes. She’d heard some crying during the night, especially after the fight, but had been too tired to let it keep her awake for long. It seemed as though many more had stifled their sobs, or cried in silence. They were clearly going to be the first to die in the Culling if they didn’t toughen up.
Not that I’m some sort of born killer, but at least I have the experience gained in the sewers. That gave her pause for thought. She’d not given a thought to the skills and experience she’d earned whilst in the sewers.
Compared to most of these people, I’m hard as nails. It made her smile to think that. It meant she had a better chance of getting back to Li. Then she remembered Andries and the way he died, what being in the culling entailed, and the smile died too. She’d happily have swapped her skills to get back to Li and their old life together.
His absence was like a hole in her very being. It gnawed at her and she had to consciously think about pushing it down, or else she’d end just as puffy-eyed as those she’d identified as weak. And if she’d identified them as weak, it was guaranteed that the harder elements had also done so.
The guideline led them into a large hangar-like room. Cullers were pouring into the open space from doors all around. Far more than she could count. Looking back, she saw a glyph marking her dormitory as ‘Alpha’. All the others were similarly named using the all-but dead language. It was spoken by some subsets in one-mile, and also in historical holomyths, so she had a vague idea it was some sort of phonetic alphabet.
Around the walls were bleachers, and in the open area were various training stations. Each marked by a rotating glyph. Instructors with exclamation marks above their heads stood next to them all. Each one looked like they’d entered a competition for the meanest sentient in the universe.
They look like they could kill me in the blink of an eye and still make the pain last for millennia, she thought with a shiver.
A woman stepped forward. She’d been gene spliced with what Mai guessed was a lizard. If that wasn’t clue enough, her dress uniform filled in the gaps. She was a Dragon Warrior, one of the Emperor’s elite foot soldiers. Bred for combat, they had a fearsome reputation. A single Dragon Warrior had once taken on ten rogue cybersassins and not only destroyed them but managed to keep nearly three limbs. One of her favourite holomyths had been made about it.
Perfectly logical that they’d have one as a head instructor, they’re just the sort of person needed to keep the cullers in check.
There was no name above her head. Merely Dragon Warrior. Mai couldn’t tell if that was supposed to be a descriptor, or a name. She shrugged. It didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things as she wasn’t here to make friends and definitely wouldn’t see the woman again once she entered the culling proper.
“Cullers,” her voice was dry and husky, amplified by nanites so that everyone present could hear. “You are in training area fifty-one. There are two thousand of you here, two hundred to a dormitory. You will train and compete with your dorm mates. In case you didn’t know, there are five hundred training areas in total.”
Another instructor, male, spliced with what looked like gorilla genes knuckled forward. He too had a glyph which merely said Gorilla. She’d seen Gorillas in holomyths. They were the shock troopers of the Empire. Utterly ruthless in combat, and able to soak up an amazing amount of punishment, they were an enemy to be both respected and feared.
“Every skill has a rank, as you all know from your past lives. Your dead lives,” the Dragon Warrior said, turning to face them as she bared her many, many sharp teeth. “What was in the past is in the past, unless you have skills from that past which can help you now. HEALING, for example. If you have HEALING you can use that from the start. If you don’t, you’ll have to learn it.”
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
Mai looked around and saw a couple of her classmates looking smug. They wore clothes which easily marked them out as seven milers, maybe even eight-milers. She didn’t know if they were looking smug because they had HEALING, or had skills they thought were going to help them out in the Culling. Either way, it made her want to punch them.
Another group that looked particularly happy was the ex-military. They’d obviously got a stack of deadly skills which would make the Culling far easier for them.
It’s not fair, it’s as if the odds are completely stacked against anyone who had a normal life. She tried to remember what sort of person had Ascended from previous Cullings, but drew a blank. No doubt they were all ex-military, gangers, or urbexers. We’re just fresh meat for them to get a bit of practice on!
She realised that the Dragon Warrior was still speaking and tuned back in.
“… weapons are the same. Five ranks. Each rank grants a plus five per cent bonus for a maximum of twenty-five per cent. Usually that’s a bonus to the ability to cause a CRITICAL HIT. CRITICAL HITS do more damage.”
She paused, looking over somewhere to Mai’s left.
“You have a question?” Mai couldn’t tell if the Dragon Warrior was surprised, amused, or about to rip the person apart.
“Yes ma’am,” came a somewhat nervous voice. “How do we actually level up?”
Mai closed her eyes. It was clear that the Dragon Warrior was about to explain that, but some people just couldn’t keep their mouths shut for a few Emperor-damned minutes.
“You kill opponents. Everyone here, whether they already have the skills or not, will go through weapons training. Upon completing weapons training, you will have one rank in the weapons we train you on. That’s a plus five per cent bonus to CRITICAL HITS. In addition to having the USE skill for that weapon.”
Dragon Warrior cocked her head, “It goes without saying that there are a lot of you here who will already have reached rank five.”
Mai didn’t need to look around to see who this was directed at. Urbexers, gangers, ex-military would all have experience at killing.
“How the fuck are we supposed to bloody survive against trained killers?” groaned a man next to her. Looking over at the previously grinning Seven-milers, she saw that the smiles had been replaced by sickly grimaces.
Mai was about to reply to the man, when she realised what Dragon Warrior had said. She’d used the word ‘opponents’ and not ‘people’ or Cullers. Opponents. Did that mean that if she’d been able to have weapons in the Sewers she’d have been able to rank up?
Biting her lip, Mai decided to keep that to herself. No doubt the non-civilian Cullers already knew this, but there was fat chance they’d be explaining it to the other Cullers, and she’d take any advantage she could if it meant getting back to Li.
“And every rank,” the Gorilla continued for the Dragon Warrior, “increases the base time duration limit of a skill by ten seconds, as well as decreasing the cooldown by ten seconds. All to a maximum of?”
He stood, tapping his foot as he waited for someone to fill the gap.
“Fifty seconds!” a ganger called out.
“Correct! Fifty-seconds. All skills have a base limit duration of sixty seconds, with a sixty second cooldown, so use them wisely! Whilst sixty seconds in the kitchen is nothing if you’re using the CHEF skill, sixty seconds whilst fighting for your life is, quite literally, a lifetime.”
Whilst the gorilla was talking, Mai pulled up her SKILLS menu, quickly scrolling down to the weapons menus. Picking USE PISTOL at random, she opened it up and blink-clicked on the Ranks.
To say it was daunting was an understatement. But, having already faced ‘opponents’ in the sewers, she had the seeds of an idea forming in her mind.
“This is where you will train for the culling. It is also where you will deploy from for the culling. Not all of you will progress from training. Once deployed you will find yourself in a planet-spanning Bloody Royale. There will be sub-events involving capture the flag, domination, king of the hill and anything else the Celestial Court decides to throw at you.”
There was a ripple amongst the cullers. Mai was surprised. It was clear that most of the other cullers didn’t have a clue as to what the process was. Which was strange, since the Cull Master had told her about it the night before. Aside from the televised battles on the streets of the city, not much was known about the process of the culling. Those who won were too busy enjoying their new lives. Those that lost were dead. Even the wounded were finished off if they were deemed ‘not viable’. But she would have expected the others to know this. Was this what the Cull Master had meant when they said they were drawn to her?
“Your first task,” continued the Gorilla, “before we commence with training is to fight to the death.”
“Quiet!” roared the Dragon Warrior as the room erupted with shouts; some angry, some gleeful, most full of despair. “This will prepare you for the task ahead. Some of you have already killed.”
She gestured towards a group of one milers covered in gang tattoos and with rank glyphs hovering above their heads. Whilst most were just runners, gunners, or pimps, there were at least two gang masters. Mai made a note of them. Gang masters were gangers who had managed to survive long enough to either reach the highest ranks of power in their gangs, or even leave and form their own gangs. As such, they were more than worthy of her fear and respect.
Looking around, Mai saw that there were a number of gangs represented, as well as some groups of cullers who looked far too keen to get started.
None of them had rank glyphs like the gangers, but they looked just as dangerous.
“Others of you won’t even have been involved in a fight before this day,” continued the Dragon Warrior. “You all have reasons for being here. You will all have to kill at some point during the culling. If you are lucky, this will not be the last time you kill.”
“We will call out names.” The Gorilla gestured towards a league table that appeared on the far wall of the hangar. “You will kill that person. For this fight, skills will be disabled. You fight as you are, not what you can be.”
Mai’s nose wrinkled at the acrid smell of urine, feeling a desperate need to urinate, herself. Nerves made her mouth as dry as a desert and butterflies filled her gut. A couple of cullers vomited, and she could hear some stifling sobs. Others didn’t bother, openly weeping.
She opened up her SASS to double-check as to whether her skills could be activated. They were all greyed out. Shaking her head in denial she tried to activate FREERUNNING, a non-combat skill. Nothing.
Murmurs, curses and even the odd shout filled the air. Looking around, Mai saw shock, resignation, and anger on the faces of the other cullers. It was clear they too had tried to activate skills.
“You will face your fates with honour and fight to live.” The Dragon Warrior jabbed a finger towards a man who had dropped to his knees and was weeping, “Or you will die on your knees.”
“Let us begin!” The Dragon Warrior started calling out names. Those that were called started to walk towards their designated spots.
Fuck, she’s eager, thought Mai as a skinny ganger with jet black skin, tightly curled hair which was shaven on both sides leaving a bright red mohawk on the crest of her head, a dragon claw glyph and neon-glowing tattoos literally skipped over to her designated space. Her opponent, a small mouse-like man, followed with slumped shoulders. It was clear he’d lost his fight before it even started. Mai almost felt sorry for him before she remembered that one less opponent now meant one less opponent out in the city once the culling had started.
“Mai Xio, former five-miler. Chow Yun Fat, former seven-miler.”
“Yes! This is going to be easy!” crowed Fat. Mai winced as she realised she’d been drawn to fight her former bunk mate.
Fuck me, how is this fucking happening? Could my day be any shittier?
She was surprised that a seven-miler would be desperate enough to enter the culling but seeing his childish glee she wondered if he’d entered through desperation or boredom. Mai settled on boredom. And psychopathy. He was definitely a psychopath.
CULLER YOU HAVE TO KILL CHOW YUN FAT
DO YOU ACCEPT YES/NO?
Raising a hand that shook uncontrollably, she selected YES. Mai followed the guideline to her designated spot. It felt as though her feet were stuck to the floor, her heart was beating in a staccato rhythm, whilst her stomach seemed to be deciding on whether it could make her throw up and shit herself at the same time. Judging by the way her stomach was growling and twisting itself into knots, it was a fair bet it could.
They stood facing each other. Chow kept licking his lips, a bead of sweat hanging from his nose, threatening to fall but never doing so. He rolled his shoulders, cracking his neck and then his knuckles. With how fat he was, Mai was surprised he could do any of those movements.
“I’m going to enjoy this. Just like I enjoyed my other victims.” He smiled for the first time since they’d met, exposing teeth that looked as though they’d been filed. How had she missed that when he bared them to her during their mini-confrontation?
What the actual fuck! Mai only realised she’d actually taken a step backward when he laughed, holding onto his ample belly as he did so. He looks like a psychopathic Buddha. I can’t do this!
“I can’t do this! I can’t!” For a moment Mai thought she’d voiced her fears out loud. But the speaker repeated what he’d just said. All heads turned towards the man who had screamed. It was the mouse-like man.
Eyes darting all over, tongue flicking out, he looked as though he was about to run.
“Culler! You have accepted the contract!” roared the Gorilla, his voice making Mai’s bones feel as though they were vibrating. INTIMIDATED glyphs appeared over hundreds of her fellow cullers. If she’d been closer, Mai felt she’d very well have been affected the same. “There is no renegotiation. You have two choices. Fight to win. Or do nothing and die.” The Gorilla knuckled his way over to the man.
“No! I can’t! I’ve got to get out…” He didn’t finish the sentence as he sprinted away from the now-cackling ganger. His path took him towards the Gorilla.
Faster than anything she’d ever seen; the instructor snatched the man’s leg. In one smooth moment he reared up to his full height, nearly eight feet, rotated his arm and smashed the man into the ground.
Bones snapped, and blood spurted from the impact. Without a moment’s hesitation the instructor smashed the man into the floor again and again, whipping him back and forth, only stopping when the man’s leg was ripped from his hip. The body sailed through the air, cullers diving out of its bloody path. A loud splat filled the hangar as it hit the floor for the last time.
“Congratulations. You are through by default.” The instructor tossed the leg towards the now stunned-looking ganger. “Clean this up.”
“That’ll be you next bitch.” Chow prodded her with a chubby finger. “Only, I’m going to kill you slowly.”
“Save your breath,” Mai hated the way she stammered, “you’ll need it.”
Chow smirked, spreading his arms wide. “Wanna hug? You look like you need a hug.”
CULLERS ELIMINATION STARTS I5 … 4 … 3 … 2 … 1
Chow roared and charged towards her, arms wide. He moved faster than she thought possible for someone his size. Desperately she dove to the side, his grasping arms closing on thin air.
“Bitch!”
Rolling back onto her feet she came up into a boxing stance. Hands held high, she danced on her feet. Whereas he was flat-footed, she had the advantage of being light on her feet.
He swung, a massive haymaker.
She skipped out of the way, not even bothering to block, instinctively knowing that it would leave her stunned.
His other hand came for her and she slapped it out of the way, moving to the outside of his arms. A quick jab, cross combo was followed by a twin forearm block as he smashed his arm into her in a heavy backhand, the weight of the blow causing her to stagger slightly
Chow’s entire fighting system was basically huge crushing swings, followed by attempts to pull her into his embrace where he could literally squeeze the life from her. Fear had stuck her tongue to the roof of her mouth. If he got hold of her she was dead.
Face red, he lunged for her again. Neither spoke, both too focussed on the other to waste energy on witticisms. Moving backward, she threw out three quick jabs.
The first two missed, but the third hit home. Blood gushed from his nostrils and a cut appeared on the bridge of his nose.
HIT! 5% DAMAGE
BLEED @0.5% PER SECOND
Chow squealed like a stuck pig, snorting blood out of his nose, shaking his head, droplets of dark red blood flying in all directions, the BLEED glyph appearing over his head. She smiled as a small section of black appeared in his health bar. Knowing you’d hurt something, like the mogwai, or someone like Chow was one thing, but actually seeing it was utterly different. It was as if the Celestial Court was rewarding them, encouraging them in some way. But that couldn’t be right, could it?
Chow moved and it snapped her back to the present. She shook her hand as she matched his move, cursing herself for her inattention.
Face now completely florid, he roared and actually slapped his chest before coming for her again. One hand got a finger hold on her sleeve. Just as he started to pull her in she broke free.
Lungs heaving, adrenalin making their hearts pump faster, they circled each other. Bubbles of blood formed at his nostrils, and his mouth hung open as his chest heaved.
“What’s the matter? Victims don’t usually put up a fight?” Mai sneered, baring her teeth.
Chow charged, arms outstretched, and she flicked a hand out towards his eyes, fingers extended, the other hand slapping his arms down. There was the feeling of resistance for a brief moment, and then her fingers slipped into his eye socket.
HIT! 25% DAMAGE
BLINDED!
A glyph of a closed eye appeared over his head. Whilst his health bar had some black in it before, now it was filled with the stuff, the black shooting to the left in the blink of his ruined eye. Shrieking, Chow crashed into the floor, hands clasping at his ruined eye. Mai gagged, flicking her hand in disgust. It had been an instinctive motion. Action before thought. A glyph showing an eye with an ‘X’ through it appeared over his head.
Her opponent continued to roll on the floor. Blood poured between his fingers and down his arms as he screamed and sobbed. Her nose wrinkled as the scent of urine filled the air.
Dizziness swept over Mai. She didn’t know if it was relief at having stopped Chow’s attack, or revulsion at the damage she’d caused to another living being. Then it came to her, it was the cold-heartedness of the whole thing. Back in the sewers it had been different, a heat of the moment reaction. Things could have gone differently. The fight could have been avoided if Fat John had given in, or people had been more diplomatic. But here, they were lined up and told to kill each other with no reason other than the fact they had been ordered to and to refuse to fight the appointed opponent was going to result in the certain death of the person choosing not to fight. And now she was having to actually think about killing someone.
TO PROGRESS TO THE NEXT LEVEL YOU MUST CULL THE CULLER
DO YOU ACCEPT YES/NO?
The message hung there, pulsing, waiting for an answer. But the fight was over. Chow was down, unable to fight, and the fight had left her. She felt drained, exhausted. Her limbs felt as heavy as lead. Muscles twitched and trembled all over her body.
“Culler,” Mai jumped, not realising that the Dragon Warrior was now standing next to her. “You must cull your opponent to move to the next level. If you refuse, you will be culled.”
“But I’ve won. Look at him,” Mai pointed to the still screaming Chow and the large pool of blood he was lying in.
“You haven’t culled him. You’ve neutralised him. That is accepted in the culling. It is not acceptable in training. Cull. Him.”
“How!” Mai swiped away the tears streaming down her cheeks. She didn’t know how long she’d been crying for.
“A chokehold is the least violent measure. Quick as well. Less chance of him fighting back.”
Mai retched. A chokehold was a simple measure. You simply attacked your opponent from behind, placing one arm around the front of their throat, whilst hooking your other arm behind their head. Done right, it sealed the blood flow to the brain.
Unconsciousness usually occurred in under ten seconds. The hold then had to be held for only a little longer to ensure death. It was intimate. You had to get close, to physically embrace them, and then feel the life go from them.
Weeping, Mai accepted YES. Feet dragging, she moved behind Chow. He lay there curled up in pain, his screams having subsided into a pathetic mewling. Kneeling behind him, she wrapped her arms around his neck and started to squeeze.
“No! No! Please!” he begged before she got the hold fully settled in. His feet scrabbled and he tried to roll. Hooking her heels into his groin, she gasped as he flipped onto his back, his bulk driving the air from her lungs.
Blood-slick hands clawing at her arms, he tried to break the hold.
“Drop your elbow, rotate your forearm slightly.” The Dragon Warrior knelt beside Mai. “That’s it. Squeeze harder.”
Her voice was gentle, motherly even.
Mai did as she was told. Chow scrabbled for a few more seconds and then went limp.
“Keep the hold on.” Again, that almost motherly voice.
Mai squeezed with all of her might, screaming in horror. Screaming in victory as a notification popped up.
CHOW YUN FAT CULLED
NEW SKILL! DIRTY BOXING RANK 1!
DIRTY BOXING +5%!
NEW PROFESSION – CULLER LEVEL 1!
She released Chow’s corpse, grunting with the effort it took to push his body away. Trying to hide the sight of Chow’s body and push what she had done to the back of her mind, she blink-clicked her SASS open to see how this affected her skills. Anything to push the thought of what she had just done to the back of her mind for a few precious seconds.
Standing, she tried to control her body as she was racked with the shakes. She’d had fights before, but never killed anyone like this. So intimate. This meant that whilst it was activated it would last for the base of sixty seconds whilst also taking sixty seconds to RECHARGE. Which, considering how quickly combat could proceed, was a very long time indeed.
Whilst she’d seen the description of the skill a long time ago, she decided to refresh her memory.
Dirty Boxing
Dirty Boxing is like unarmed combat but with much dirtier techniques. Biting, gouging, scratching and headbutts are all key components of this fighting method.
Whilst PASSIVE it gives a 5% chance to CRITICAL HITS. When ACTIVE it gives an additional 5% chance to CRITICAL HITS per rank. Dirty Boxers are able to SPECIALISE in one specific strike such as JAB, CROSS, UPPERCUT. Once, during each fight, they are able to ACTIVATE the SPECIALISM, conferring +10% to damage, and +5% to CRITICAL HIT.
This was a massive increase on both. Reviewing her SASS she saw a new table had been added under the title of CULLER PROFESSION. It was simple, a column full of numbers representing the levels that could be achieved, with the number one being highlighted in green, marking her level. To the right of that column was another which chilled her to her core.
It too was simple. And utterly barbaric. In order to proceed through the levels, for which she could see no bonus for doing so, she would have to achieve a certain number of kills.
To hit level one, it required one cull. To hit level two required two additional kills. Meaning that by the time she reached level two, she should have culled four people.
A pattern became clear as she read down the rest of the column.
Progressing to each culler level meant she would have to kill the number of people required for the previous level, in addition to the number of the level.
This meant that if she was level three, she would have culled four people to get to that level and would need to cull six people to get to Level Four. Level four, plus the ten she had already culled, meant she would need to cull twenty people in total. It was utterly sickening. And with no bonuses to skills for achieving the level, it seemed they were worth nothing more than bragging rights. As well as being able to record her progress on the scoreboard.
Culler Level
Culls required (each level)
1
1
2
3
3
6
4
10
5
15
6
21
7
28
8
36
9
45
10
55
11
66
12
78
13
91
14
105
15
120
16
136
She became aware of the Dragon Warrior once more as she laid a hand on her shoulder.
“Congratulations. You’re a level 1 Culler. Your first kill automatically grants that status. From now on however, levelling up will be far more difficult.”
“Harder than this?” Mai gestured to Chow’s corpse as the Dragon Warrior helped her to her feet.
“Much. You will be neutralising or killing fellow cullers for the duration of the culling. As you progress through the levels, you will climb the scoreboard. Meaning that your opponents will view you as a greater threat, and a better way to gain glory for killing you. Boasting rights you might say."
“That’s just …” Mai failed for the right words.
“You’re here because you chose to be. I’m here because I was made a killer. Your choices led you to this moment. You squandered your freedom.”
Her tone was neutral, but Mai could sense the anger beneath it. There was also a sense of disbelief that anyone would squander the gift of freedom without a second thought. Mai nodded, too drained to say anything. Too drained to admit that she’d only entered through desperation. It would have seemed childish to state such a thing.
Only the most desperate, or psychotic, would enter the culling in the first place. Or the most stupid, she thought ruefully.
“Go and join your other victors.”
Mai walked across to the other victors, legs shaking like a new-born lamb’s. The red-haired ganger nodded to her.
“Good kill. He was a sick fucker. Glad he’s gone,” she finished with a double-thumbs up and a wide grin.
“Thanks,” Mai didn’t trust herself to say anything further. It made no difference to her, she’d still killed someone. Choked them to death with her bare hands. So close and personal this time, not like the ubexer fight. She didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or throw up. Maybe all three. That would certainly be something to give her fellow cullers to talk about.
From the faces of the other victors, most felt as bad as she did. Looking back across the hangar she saw that in some cases there hadn’t been a winner. More than a few pairs of corpses lay on the ground. From the looks of it, just over half of their dorm had been killed.
“What the hells?” she whispered.
“They were too badly injured. The instructors killed them,” the ganger replied. “I’m Dakota.”
Mai shook the hand that Dakota offered. “Mai Xio.”
“Yeah, I know,” Dakota pointed at the league table. It showed Mai’s name in bold golden writing on a background whilst Chow’s was white on red. Dakota’s name was displayed in a similar manner.
“Cullers.” The Gorilla stood before them once more, “Today was your blooding. You have now been fully accepted into the Culling. From now on, you will be trained in the arts you will need to survive.”
“Do not make friends with your training partners.” The Dragon Warrior swept her arm across the crowd. “Alliances may be formed, but don’t trust each other. Only one hundred out of an initial one million will ascend. All others will die.”
“Those of you who were injured in this initial selection should proceed to the medical block regardless as to whether you have nanites for healing or not.” The Gorilla warrior pointed to a red guideline which traced a path to a door with a flashing red cross above it.
“All other victors may return to their bunk rooms. There is no further training today. Lunch is at 13:00. Dinner at 17:00. Lights out at 23:00.” The Gorilla dismissed them with a wave towards the dorms.
There was a moment’s pause as the newly inducted cullers shuffled around looking at each other uncertainly before they slowly left the hangar. Behind them came the sound of dispersal drones clearing up the bodies of the losers.
Mai glanced over her shoulder for one last look at Chow. A drone had settled over him and was spraying the corpse with an acidic cleaning agent, a hose sucking the bodily fluids into tanks mounted on its top.
She barely made it to the latrines before vomiting.