When Ava came to, a few minutes later, she was in a rather comfortable twin bed in her suite. Sam was sitting in one of the armchairs, worried; Ava had expected this. Maxim Konstantinov, their target, was sitting in the other, also visibly worried, which Ava did not expect.

“You’re awake,” Maxim said. “Are you all right?”

Ava blinked. This felt… upside-down. Topsy turvy. Like something was very distinctly not right.

“Yeah, I’m fine, just… fainted,” Ava said, a little awkwardly. “Kinda hit me that I’m probably gonna kick it in the next few days.” Maxim laughed uproariously, his voice shaking the cabin.

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about,” Maxim said in his thick accent. Sam briefly prayed that he wasn’t going to follow up that statement, and that Ava wasn’t going to put two and two together and realize she was being insulted.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ava asked, quizzically. “You think I’m gonna beat you?”

Oh, fuck, here we go, Sam thought to himself, dreading what was almost guaranteed to happen in front of him.

“No,” Maxim said. “You have absolutely no chance. However, I will not kill you. I only kill warriors with enough prowess to give me a good fight. You… are a child, not a warrior.”

When Sam looked at Ava to see how she was taking this, her tanned skin had gone beet red.

It immediately occurred to him that, in the short time they’d known each other, he hadn’t really seen Ava get properly angry before, and the sight was a lot funnier than he had reasonably expected it to be. For someone who could turn a Hummer into shards of metal with one punch, she wasn’t really the most intimidating when someone successfully hit her buttons; she looked like a little kid about to throw a tantrum.

“Shut the fuck up,” Ava said. “I’m not a warrior? Come on, do you know how many fights I’ve been in, in my life?”

“Enlighten me,” Maxim said, amused.

“I stopped counting at two hundred and fifty,” Ava said. “I’ve won twenty in the three months since school started this year.”

“Very impressive, for a young girl,” Maxim acknowledged. “Do you want to know how many, in my sixty-five years, I’ve won? Not how many I’ve been in, but simply my victories?”

“I’ll bite,” Ava said. “Tell me.” Maxim took a second to do some quick mental math.

“I’ve killed at least fifty thousand men,” he said. “Five thousand, that I can remember, in single duels. The others in mass combat.”

Ava blinked, a look of shock on her face.

“My point exactly. For you to even come close to matching me, in your youth, you would have to be born a beast of slaughter,” Maxim said. “I see the spirit of a warrior in you; your offense at my comment alone indicates that much. However, that spirit must be nurtured over time. I have that time on my side. You do not.”

Man, for the guy we’re supposed to kill, this guy has strong Yoda energy, Sam thought to himself. Something doesn’t feel right about this.

“I’m told your name is Ava?” Maxim asked.

“That’s me,” Ava said.

“I have a proposition for you,” he said. “Accompany me to the gymnasium near the top deck of this ship; they have a sparring ring set up. I would like to spar with you; illustrating my own power to you would prove my point about the gap that lies between us, and I am honestly very curious as to the nature of your own.”

“Perfectly fine by me,” Ava said, smirking. “Give me a minute alone with Sam, though. We’ve gotta take stock of a couple things. I’ll meet you there.”

“At your convenience,” Maxim said. “I don’t do much for leisure, so I will be there, waiting.” With that, he exited the cabin, ducking slightly to ensure that he’d fit through the door.

“So, what’s your take on this dude?” Ava asked.

“He’s… a lot cooler than I thought he was gonna be,” Sam said. “Like, this guy’s really nice. I kinda feel bad about us having to gank him.”

“Doesn’t he kinda have a Master Roshi thing going on?” Ava mused.

“My mind was kinda going to Yoda,” Sam said. “I get what you’re saying, though.”

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When Ava got to the gym, Maxim was waiting for her, just as promised, standing in the sparring ring. Ava climbed through the ropes and assumed a fighting stance, her torso hunched forwards slightly to protect her chest and her fists up to protect her face.

Maxim, however, simply stood there, unmoving.

“Give me everything you have, young girl,” he said. “One punch with all of your energy.”

Ava grinned like a maniac. He had walked directly into what, as far as she knew, was going to be an instant kill and an easy ten million dollars. She charged forwards, went for a haymaker directly to the center of his chest with her full force, and… felt unexpectedly large amounts of pain when her fist clanged into his chest with the sound of the world’s loudest gong.

Maxim nearly doubled over, laughing.

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I love that trick.”

Ava looked nonplussed as she clutched her throbbing fist.

“What the fuck was that?” Ava asked. “What the fuck did you do?”

“You have just witnessed the Code of Steel,” Maxim said. “When I am hit, my body reflexively turns into steel, protecting me.”

“That’s fucking cheating,” Ava said.

“No, it isn’t,” Maxim said, matter-of-factly. “This is why I have survived to the age of sixty-five without a worry in my life: because there is very, very little that can actually harm me.”

“Well, let’s see what else you can do, then,” Ava said. “You can’t possibly be winning these fights just by not being able to take damage.” Maxim smiled.

“In due time, you will see,” he said. “For now, I have made my point excellently.”

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Meanwhile, just one deck above the gymnasium, Scott and Luke had just finished playing the cruise’s nine holes of miniature golf.

The whole thing had been, frankly, unimpressive; maybe it was simply the fact that the teens were, well, teens, and towered over all of the decorations that would have been perfectly-sized for a six year old, but overall it seemed as if the course had been there more to tick off a box and provide a novelty, than to actually be a good miniature golf course.

So it goes, Scott thought to himself as they turned in their putters and Luke received a cheap plastic pin for being one putt under Scott’s score.

As they turned to leave the course, Luke felt something grab his ankle, and yelped as he was quickly pulled down through the skylight. Scott, thinking quickly, grabbed his hand, and realized what had pulled Luke down- a human hand attached to an almost unnaturally long, stretchy arm.

Another arm whipped through and grabbed Scott by the back of his shirt, and the two went plummeting to the deck below.

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When the attack happened, Ava and Maxim immediately heard the loud thump of the two boys’ bodies hitting the deck.

“Hell was that?” Ava asked the burly Russian. He looked dismayed.

“We should look,” he said. “I hope there has not been trouble just yet. It is a bit early for fighting.”

With that, the two jogged out of the gymnasium and over to the grand atrium, where they’d heard the thump; immediately, they noticed the unconscious, seemingly limp bodies of Scott and Luke, along with a cackling, shirtless man, wearing a bondage mask that hid his face and hair entirely, who seemed as though his limbs were retracting into his shoulders as they watched.

“What the fuck did you do to my friends?” Ava asked, immediately angry.

“Oh, I just played a little prank,” the man said. “Just a little joke, and they took a little tumble.” He continued cackling through the straps of the mask.

“You know that the rules do not allow this,” Maxim said. “There is to be no combat outside of sparring until the tournament begins.”

“Oh, and I’m going to listen to you, Mister Champion?” the man asked, sarcastically. “You know they’re here to kill you, right?”

Maxim scoffed.

“I have already seen what the girl is capable of, and there is no way that she will be able to defeat me,” Maxim said. “And if either of the boys you have attacked are on her level, they are similarly hopeless. Your attempt at a thoughtful gesture is an insult to me.”

“Maybe it’s not about your precious feelings,” the man said. “Maybe some of us don’t like seeing the tournament committee make a mockery of this event.”

Maxim looked down at Ava.

“These are your friends,” he said. “It seems only right that you avenge them.”

“What, and you’re just gonna stand there?” Ava asked.

“If need be, I will step in and assist you,” Maxim said to her. “However, I will not take a kill that rightfully belongs to another warrior.”

Ava smirked, the bloodlust rising as always.

“Thanks for that,” she said as she moved towards the mystery man and took a fighting stance.

“Aren’t some introductions in order?” the man asked. “They call me Rubberman. Because, as you’ve been able to see, I have the Code of Rubber; I can turn my body into rubber and stretch it as far as my eyes can see.”

“Ava Hidalgo,” Ava said. “And I’m going to shove my fist down your throat so hard it comes out your ass.”

“Ooh, colorful!” Rubberman said. “I like that! You’re gonna be fun!”

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Sam, meanwhile, was sitting in the stateroom, alone, rifling through the bag of assorted marijuana products that Ava had gotten from the ship’s dispensary.

Some of the stuff, it seemed fairly obvious how to use- Sam could pretty easily work out that, in order to get high off of a medicated gummy bear, you eat it, or that to get high off flower, you break it up, put it in a pipe, and smoke it. Some of it, however, Sam didn’t have the first clue what he was looking at: there were all sorts of assorted cartridges for vaporizers and oils and tinctures, along with something labeled as a “live resin terp diamond” that looked somewhat like a yellow crystal and mystified Sam completely.

With all the stress of the day so far, and the realization that their mission was going to be a more ethically complicated one than he’d initially figured (which was truly saying something), Sam figured he could use a little weed in his system. He pulled out a disposable pen, which looked a bit like a Juul and was labeled “Blue Raspberry Wedding Cake,” took a puff on it, and coughed his lungs out.

“God, this shit’s strong,” Sam said to himself, blinking his cherry-red eyes, as he turned the stateroom’s television on and settled in for a marathon of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia to keep himself occupied until the others came back. “Man, I hope the others are okay.”

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The others were not, in fact, okay: two of them were in a questionable state in the ship’s grand atrium, and the remaining one, Ava, was getting ready to fight for her life.

As she dashed forwards to get in a quick punch, Rubberman’s foot stretched out in front of him and caught her leg, sending her directly to the ground.

“Son of a bitch,” she muttered as she tried to pick herself up. A flying fist from feet away caught her in the jaw and knocked her onto her back.

“Can’t get me if you can’t get to me, you stupid little girl,” Rubberman said as Ava made it back to her feet. She charged again, this time taking a hit to the solar plexus that knocked the wind straight out of her.

All the while, Maxim stood on the sidelines, stroking his long, grey beard with one hand and clearly gauging Ava’s fighting prowess. Noticing this seemed to light a fire under Ava; for some reason, she wanted to impress this crazy Russian man she was supposed to be assassinating.

Scott twitched on the ground a bit; that’s a good sign, he’s not dead, Ava thought to herself. We’ve still got our healer. She charged for a third time, this time anticipating the hit coming from Rubberman and dodging around his flying arm; unexpectedly, the arm wrapped around her and coiled tight, squeezing her arms against her torso as he walked up to her.

“It’s funny,” Rubberman said. “I expected this to be… well, a fight. Instead, it’s more of an execution. I’ve already taken out two of your friends, I’ve got you in my grasp right now, and I know the last member of your party is down there in the competitor’s deck.”

“You’re not going to touch Sam,” Ava said.

“Funny gesture, from the girl who can’t do anything,” he said, coiling his arm tighter and making Ava grunt in pain. “No, I think I am going to touch… Sam, you said his name was? I think I am going to touch him. And I think I’m going to carry out that colorful little threat you gave me on him, since you seem to care about him so much,” he gloated.

Is this stupid Zangief-looking asshole going to do anything, or is he just going to stand there on the fucking sidelines while I get murdered? Ava thought to herself, looking Maxim in the eyes as if to concede defeat and beg for help.

Then, an idea came to Ava. She grinned, bent her head down, and bit as hard as she could into the arm that was coiled around her.