“OH. MY. WORD. LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! If that doesn’t get your blood pumping, I don’t know what will! It appears a star has been born. Will Lightning Leonard live up to his insane debut? You all know there’s only one place to find out!”
After twelve gruelling rounds, and a brutal thirteenth, the announcer’s glowing praise was music to Jay’s ears.
Jay couldn’t see an audience, but he felt one somewhere. He took a bow hoping, wherever they were, they saw him from the front.
“I need a breather after that one folks! But the next fight is coming right up, and you won’t want to miss it!”
The voice abruptly stopped. Jay's surroundings grew fuzzier, detail slowly slipping away from him. Stone and sky merged together, fading into endless white. Soon it was just Jay and his unconscious opponent.
Eventually, he disappeared too.
What next?
Four beige walls boxed Jay in from the void, followed by a wooden floor and a ceiling painted in the same forgettable beige. Jay looked around the dramatically dull room, pleased to find no greatsword-wielding barbarians alongside him. Only his drenched gloves, slowly forming a puddle in the corner, kept him company.
The lonely room’s cool dry air felt delightfully average, and that suited Jay just fine.
Jay clenched and released his left fist. Not only was his arm dry, it had fully healed too. He ran his fingers down his forearm. Nothing. Not even a scratch. Even the spot where Valorus had cut through to the bone felt completely normal.
He traced the bridge of his now unbroken nose. It was fucked up, but no more fucked up than it was yesterday. Two breaks in the last hour hadn’t even left a bruise.
Congratulations Lightning Leonard, you have won your first fight in the Second Chance Coliseum.
Your profile has been updated. Would you like to view it?
Profile?
Yeah, I guess.
A larger table replaced the golden text in front of him.
Alias
Lightning Leonard
Organisation
Second Chance Coliseum (Soulbound)
Grade
E
Rank
973
Offence
1000
Defence
954
Strategy
902
Instinct
856
Vitality
986
??????
?
Nine hundred and seventy third?
I hope these aren’t out of a thousand. Jay thought, eyeing his offence ranking. He flicked down to the bottom of the table, wondering what the final row meant.
You have unlocked the statistic: Speed. It will now show up on profiles when you view them.
Speed
789
It made sense that speed was his highest placement. But if the rankings were out of 1000, he was mediocre at best. And even that was a stretch.
Another screen appeared the moment Jay dismissed the table.
You have been awarded 3010 contribution points.
Your visa has been extended for 7 days.
“What’s a visa?” Jay said, aloud this time.
Your visa denotes the time you have remaining in the Second Chance Coliseum. In E grade you are allowed a maximum of 7 days in between fights.
“What happens if I don’t fight in the next seven days?”
You will fight before your visa expires.
Ominous…
Thank you for competing in the Second Chance Coliseum.
“That’s it? Or are you gonna start talking again? Some more answers would be nice.”
The screen simply vanished, leaving Jay alone in silence.
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His soaked red gloves sat in a puddle of rainwater in the corner, the only spark of colour in the drab room. Even the door, the only feature apart from his gloves, was painted in the same monotonous beige.
Jay laid down and stared up at the ceiling as he played back the fight in his mind. Existential reflections could wait, they’d always be there, such vivid memories of the fight wouldn’t last long.
It was tough, and ugly, but he’d still clinched the win. That was enough for now, but would it be enough next time? Surely he couldn’t rely on a thunderstorm to bail him out every week?
And what about the voice behind the weird golden screen?
To say it helped was a bit of a stretch, but it certainly seemed on his side. Even if the whole situation was probably an accident. What did it mean by “Especially if you want to find him”?
For someone without a weapon, and with no experience fighting swordsmen, Jay felt alright about his performance. But alright didn’t win fights. He knew nine times out of ten he was losing that fight, and that was being generous.
He needed to get stronger.
“Forget what you think you know about fighting. Forget your limits. Become more.”
What did the voice mean when it said that? Was it trying to steer him towards attacking with the storm? If so, why not just tell him?
Or was it about fighting like a gladiator, not a boxer? His punches were useless against the relentless champion, his kicks even worse.
What if his next opponent had a sword? Would he have to use one too?
But he only had a week to learn?
Eyes closed, Jay started a mental list of things he needed to figure out. Jay's List of Confusing Shit. He imagined writing his questions down in red permanent marker.
1. Where the fuck am I?
2. Do I really have to fight in a week? If so, how do I prepare for that fight?
3. Who was the voice in my head? Where can I find them?
He left the list at that, although truthfully he could’ve added at least ten more entries.
The four walls wouldn't tell him anything, but maybe someone outside them would.
The gloves could stay in here, Jay had to look for answers.
----------------------------------------
A cloudless sky and the afternoon sun looked down on Jay as he emerged into open air; heat and humidity replaced the room’s sterile coolness. Golden rays of sunlight bounced off tan stone buildings above him. The tall structures surrounded Jay, although not too tightly.
A jostling crowd of people blocked everything below eye level, although the crowd itself was a sight to behold. A woman with lavender-tinged skin brightly smiled at Jay through a mouth that had slightly too many teeth before an eight-foot-tall giant barged in front of her. He stared down at Jay with three closed eyes, all flitting side to side behind their eyelids.
Nobody’s pushing him out the way.
Didn't mean they wouldn’t try. The entire crowd fought for position, each member wrestling their way to the front for the chance to speak.
“Great performance Mr. Leonard, are you interes-”
A swinging elbow cut the first pitch short.
“Don’t mind him. You showed impressive essence manipulation at the end, would you b-”
Someone promptly dragged the next speaker back into the crowd.
It reminded Jay of his last few press conferences. Reporters circling like vultures, hunting for a headline. Nobody cared about the fight, just manufacturing drama to make the suits at the top more money. At least this group looked more interesting than the bland journalists plaguing Earth’s boxing rings. Even if they were just as predatory.
“Red Star boxing gym. Does Andre Allen still coach there?”
Jay's head snapped to the side, trying to locate the voice.
It had more depth than the others, and Jay picked up faint traces of an American accent. Although the voice intrigued him, the words caught Jay's attention more.
How does he know Coach?
Amid the chaotic crowd, one figure stood steadfast and immovable. Jay turned to face the man behind the new voice.
He was a head shorter than Jay and wore his long ginger hair in a topknot. A pale, stocky frame poked out of the young man’s gaudy turquoise kimono, and the handle of a samurai sword rose over his shoulder.
“How do you know Coach?” Jay snapped, frustrated at how little he knew about literally anything.
“I don’t know him. I just recognised the logo. I was never a big boxing guy back on Earth, but I watched a fight every now and then.”
Jay’s eyes lit up at the mentions of Earth and boxing. The man must’ve seen Jay ease up, an earnest smile flooded across his face the instant Jay dropped his guard.
“Back off everyone, he’s not joining any of your alliances. Starting today I am officially Mr. Leonard’s agent. Any unsolicited offers will not be appreciated.” He barked, parting the crowd and waving Jay through. “I’m Akira by the way. You have no idea how nice it is to find someone else from Earth, there’s only like five of us on this damn island. Let’s find a nicer place to talk.”
Maybe he had no idea, but a friendly face was a welcome sight for Jay’s eyes too. Especially if they liked boxing.
He followed Akira through the huddle of people, catching a few flailing arms and batting away grasping hands as he weaved his way through the path Akira carved. Jay had to fight his way out, but the sweat from the fight mixed with the sweat from the heat helped him slip through the crowd.
After Jay escaped the crowd, and could finally breathe properly, he scanned the square around him. Red and white stone tiles chequered the ground, occasionally broken up by citrus trees bringing life to the courtyard. Multi-storey stone buildings snugly wrapped around the open-air square, reminding Jay of a mediterranean plaza, carved from the cityscape. Several curious faces emerged from their windows, noticing the hubbub below. Most simply retreated back inside, but Jay spotted a few waves directed his way.
Jay flicked his head away from the mob of people, eyes locking onto a fountain in the square’s centre.
Jets of water burst out of a statue’s raised stone spear. Its wielder stood in a battle pose, one hand lifting his weapon up to the heavens, the other raising a shield in front of him. Jay watched the water crash down on the gladiator’s stoic stone expression. The stone resisted erosion, holding strong against the onslaught, but the water was never-ending. Continuously spouting from the spear and falling atop the statue.
The constant battle between resilience and resistance.
Jay snapped out of his daydream. Akira was already near the edge of the square.
The fuck was that?
He kept his eyes trained firmly forward, refusing to glance back at the fountain as he jogged after Akira. Thoughts of the statue still lingered in Jay's mind, refusing to fully fade away.
Jay furrowed his brow and added… added whatever just happened to the list.
He had the feeling the list was going to get a lot longer before he started getting any answers.
Akira fiddled with a silver coin, leaning against a building at the square’s edge. When Jay caught up, he kicked off the wall and waved Jay into a narrow alleyway. Tan stone walls shrouded the alley in shadows. Only a sliver of sunlight reached Jay from above, threading through the steep cliffs either side of him.
“What was the deal with that fountain? I couldn’t stop thinking abou-”
Akira jerked his hand up.
Jay's neck hairs jolted upright.
A wave of oppressive heat engulfed Jay, sinking its incorporeal claws into him. The sweltering grasp forcibly pulled all the moisture from his mouth.
Akira spun around. His eyes widened, gripped by fear.
Jay twisted his neck to the side, but Akira's sweaty hands wrenched his face back.
His pleading face locked onto Jay's.
“Whatever they say, don’t trust them. They don’t care about you. Leave as soon as you can and go to the Celestial Swords tavern. Ask for me. Please.”
Jay nodded back. Akira flicked a sweaty strand of hair behind his ear before turning and sprinting away.
Leaving Jay alone with whatever stood behind him.
----------------------------------------
Jay slowly turned his head.
The shadow of the man behind him completely blocked out the square, almost filling the entire alleyway. The towering figure plodded towards Jay. Grey, stone-like skin cracking and crumbling with each pounding step. Several glowing embers nestled in his thick red beard. They singed his skin but remained unnoticed. The pockmarked spots of charred and missing hair littering the man’s head told Jay this wasn’t the first time.
He glared at Jay, watching him sweat and squirm before the heat finally went away.
“Sorry ‘bout that buddy. Boss said to scare off all the others so she could talk to ya first. Plus I had to make sure you was the right one.” He said with a dopey smile, only then realising his beard had caught alight.
He smacked his chin with a bare hand, extinguishing the flame before blankly staring at Jay.
“No worries… I'm Jay… what’s your name?”
Jay held out his hand, politeness overcoming his fear of the man crushing or burning it.
Jay knew fear in a man’s eyes. He’d beaten enough opponents down to recognise when they mentally broke.
Akira wasn’t just scared of the man in front of him. He was terrified.