Wen Daiyu
This is a difficult situation I have found myself in. I should have known they’d pull something like this. I foolishly thought that they'd be sporting enough to at least give me a chance, how wrong can a woman be? I thought people were supposed to get wiser as they age, I just feel more forgetful.
My thought track gets interrupted by white hair guy.
“Manager? What does this mean for the fight?”
Good question kid, I turn my gaze purposefully towards the taller one with brown hair.
He stutters magnificently.
“W-w-wait a minute here…”
The white haired kid turns to look at him, this time with surprise evident on his face.
He then snaps back at me before asking the question I'm sure brown hair would be asking if he wasn't frozen solid and didn't already know the answer.
“What? You want him to fight? Ant’s got no fighting skill to speak of, let alone in a tournament.”
Ah, that was his name, I remember now.
Now if only Antony would say the white haired kid's name.
“Uvo’s right, there's no way I can fight!”
I laugh maniacally in my head, maybe wisdom is foresight and it takes away memory as compensation.
I wash away the ridiculous thought and looked at the two kids opposite me.
“Besides, why don't you fight, you're clearly the strongest here!”
Me? Fight?
“Kid, you think I'd be allowed to fight in the International rookie league? Do I look like a rookie? Besides, I'm retired so I can't just announce my return and start beating on new kids. And even if I did I'd have to fight in the league I retired from. So, what do you propose we do? I am only allowed to have members fight tomorrow and you’re the only two that have legs intact. So, you going to man up or chicken out?”
Both the foolish kids looked at me with wide eyes and even wider jaws. The reason for their synchronised disbelief was no doubt my outburst, probably the most they have ever heard me speak.
Hilarious.
Antony turned away gesturing to Uvo, he followed. Once out of earshot they began speaking in a hushed tone. I wonder what conditions they have.
“Alright, Manager. I have a few conditions. The first is that we split the earnings between the 3 of us equally. The second being I reserve be right to surrender at any point in time. The third is that I need to hide my face so please prepare a mask for me. The final condition is that you get me a proper pair of gloves.”
This kid Antony, what's he so worried about? A mask will make you stand out more than your face. I shrug my shoulders.
“Sure, sounds fine. I'll have it prepared for you tomorrow.”
The two of them nod to each other, I may have just acted as a catalyst for the creation of a brotherhood.
With the fight only a day away there was no time to waste.
“Right, time to train, sit down.” They sat obediently.
“Cross your legs and rest your palms on your knees.”
Again, they followed suit.
“Now close your eyes and stay quiet till I say.”
I decided not to pass on the opportunity and sat down in my most comfortable pose for meditation.
The kids left and eventually so did the moon, the new day bringing rays of sunshine through the holes in my roof.
Underneath the gym, the grimy cellar, clearly untouched for generations was collecting dust as usual. My hand swept some off the top of one of the boxes. Nope, not the one I’m looking for either.
Eventually, my eyes were drawn to a frame, propped up against some heavily dusted boxes at the back.
It was a green wooden frame, the glass was so dirty it was impossible to see what it contained without a clean.
I unlatched the back of the frame, not needing to see it through the glass to know that it was exactly what I had been looking for.
I picked up the two masks.
One was black with a white dot on the forehead, the other white with a black dot.
Yin and Yang, Taijitu. They hadn’t been used in years. Not even I wore these, forgotten by time and therefore by the people.
The only reason I remembered them was the boy’s mention of masks.
I threw them in the washing machine, the frame had no seal and had not protected them from the dust and grime this place has collected over the years.
The final request, the gloves. This was comparatively easier. Two pairs of training gauntlets should suffice, I had nothing better on hand and while they were slightly worn and ragged, they were the most reliable things I had on hand.
They were old so the technology was similarly dated. They still packed a mean punch and were made of strong enough stuff to protect you from most projectiles.
With the necessities taken care of I changed and ate, an exciting and equally terrifying day lies ahead.
The venue was in an uproar. People gathered from all over the city to watch these fights, considering there were around 12 per night, they provided the perfect evening’s entertainment for everyone. From gangsters to gamblers, young to old. The ring was a hole in the ground so that the audience could watch from above.
The two boys were next to me in the waiting room, Antony was stretching and going over some last minute procedures, Uvo was sitting next to me. He was surprisingly relaxed but then again, this was almost certainly not his first time fighting in front of a crowd of people.
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“Right, shirts off.”
They both looked at me, either unsure of what I said of questioning my sanity.
“You heard me, shirts off. Clothing like that…” I gestured to their sweaty t-shirts.
“... will serve no other purpose other than to be ripped.”
They looked at one another and wordlessly took their t-shirts off.
I almost dropped my mouth at what I saw.
Uvo, the least surprising, had scar marks all over his body, some large that I could tell were recent and looked like they may have been serious, others were small and had clearly been done at an early age.
The whiteness of them contrasted his greyish skin tone.
Then there was Antony, his back and some of his upper torso were covered in marks, with all my weapons expertise I could only tell that they came from some sort of multi-tailed whip.
Some of the fresher ones were pink, while others were, much like Uvo’s, white. All were horizontal.
Uvo was clearly less capable of concealing his surprise.
“Antony? What’s all that?”
I must admit, I was rather curious as well, I had assumed Antony was a typical middle-class kid, never seeing an inch of hardship in his life. I had never been so wrong.
“I’d rather not talk about it. Can I have the mask now?”
I managed to pull myself together and reached into my bag for the two, freshly washed masks.
I handed them one each. Yin (black with white dot), going to Antony; Yang (white with black dot), going to Uvo.
“Why me?”
Uvo inquired scathingly.
“If he wears one, you wear one. Suck it up.”
He grunted and pulled it over his head.
“Stick your arms out.”
They did as told and I held the training gauntlets up for each of them, they placed their arms in, one by one, the gauntlet sensing the presence of an arm and snapping shut, encasing their arms in 2 inches of less than ideal metal, still, better than nothing.
Antony’s arms slumped at the additional weight, Uvo handled it a little better.
“I asked for gloves! Not armour…”
“You get what you’re given. Now, see to it that you beat your opponents into the ground. Antony, do what you can, worst comes to worst, don’t get in Uvo’s way.”
Antony’s shoulders dropped. I was trying to get him motivated to prove himself but apparently, he’s not the kind of person to respond to that kind of provocation.
The two boys entered the arena, joining the already waiting pair representing the scummy business man trying to swipe my gym from beneath my feet.
My boys were up against thugs. There was no nice way of saying it.
I could speculate with almost pinpoint accuracy their background.
They had done time, maybe they even met in prison.
They were hired mercenaries or handymen, people you pay to do small time dirty work, like collecting debts from unwilling borrowers, or yes, something like this. Beating on two newcomers for a business they have no right to own.
A loss to them would mean I may as well rub my face with faeces and oil my hands with piss and parade around the city centre screaming bloody murder.
Taijitu is not just a name, and a loss to a couple of untrained thugs would be the ultimate disgrace to its legacy.
The fight’s bell tolled and the two thugs grinned at their competition.
One had no hair and carried a sword, the other, long black hair and carried a gun. A common tactic, too old to even be labelled a classic. One range and one melee. The baldy approached first, Uvo volunteering to be the first receiver, the sword colliding into the training glove.
A left uppercut from Uvo into the stomach of the baldy folded him.
Before anything else could happen, the surprised gun wielder took their first shot at Uvo, he blocked it easily with his glove.
Antony backed into the corner.
Baldy took another swing after recovering.
Uvo forced to dodge as his hands were busy deflecting the barrage of oncoming bullets.
Finally, the gun wielder ran out of ammo, pausing for a reload, Uvo capitalised on the opportunity to gain a quick and ruthless advantage over baldy. The sword was very quickly on the floor, he was clutching his now bleeding nose, thanks to a straight left jab from Uvo.
In a surprising moment of tactical thinking I did not expect, Antony rushed over to the sword and grasped it before baldy could recover.
Using mostly the strength of the training gloves he snapped the sword in half, throwing the pieces behind him.
Baldy got visibly angry, and so did the now fully loaded gun wielder.
Uvo ignored the baldy, judging him as not an immediate threat. He rushed the gun wielder, deflecting bullets during his wild charge.
The gun wielder employed standard tactics, kiting Uvo around the ring, although it was too small to fully utilise.
Kiting is used by range attackers, it is a technique that involves attacking whilst retreating, or simply moving away from the oncoming threat, a skilled range attacker would be able to keep an untrained Uvo at bay indefinitely, like a kite on a string. However, this one was rubbish, Uvo quickly cut him off when he took a less than ideal route and was on him, raining punches most being deflected by the guns.
The baldy used this opportunity to attack Antony, idiot. If he had attacked Uvo they would win a lot easier, either they were so confident in their victory that they didn't care, or they're just stupid. I fancy the latter.
Antony was now cowering against a wall, nowhere to run he was forced into fisticuffs with the baldy.
The first came close to Antony’s face, I could tell that he had actively dodged it, I was just not aware of how. His experience was minimal and he wasn’t exactly at the peak of physical fitness.
The second punch went to Antony’s stomach. It collided with something but it wasn’t his gut, his gauntlet had somehow made its way between the exposed fist and the exposed flesh of his stomach.
The baldy reeled back, I was as surprised as he was at Antony’s impressive showcase of, well, the only word I could use would be: Instincts.
While the baldy recovered Antony took the opportunity to launch a punch in his direction.
It was a badly thrown punch, it landed softly, luckily it was backed by heavy metal gauntlets so it at least caused the baldy to stagger. The audience very loudly voiced their complaints at the tame punch. Unfortunately for Antony, that was the best he could do.
Whilst this was happening Uvo had thoroughly dismantled the gunner. He had lost one of his weapons and was now ammoless in the other. It took Uvo a grand total of 2 additional minutes to put him into the ground. Uvo had only managed this valuable alone time thanks to Antony.
I had to rub my eyes and pinch myself.
Antony was, ungracefully and ineffectively dodging and parrying most of the baldy’s attacks. Albeit one or two sound punches landed on the poor boys face, giving him a bust eyebrow, one also landed in his gut which will provide discomfort in the near future.
Despite this, the poor kid was hanging on. Uvo’s methodical offense saw to it that the gunner was defeated.
If, we were speculating, Antony going down before that happening would have resulted in our loss. The fact that the gunner was on the floor unconscious whilst both of my fighters were up and running, meant only one thing.
The baldy madly rushed at Uvo, weaponless and without partner he fell within a few seconds to Uvo’s well aimed punches. Antony busy hanging back catching his breath.
I stood up before I realised anything else.
“Winner, Taijitu!”
The announcer shouted over the commotion. I felt like I could fly.
I saw in the corner of my eye the two boys fist bump and head into the gate that had been reopened for them to leave through.
My eyes were set on the Carnitopian business man opposite me, the species with the big heads.
His eyes were narrowed but he made no move.
I straightened my back and moved to join my boys to celebrate our victory.
My mind was struggling to process how it had turned out like this. The two mercenaries were pathetic, not even being able to knock out Antony. True Uvo controlled the pace of the match like a professional and Antony had a hidden card that no one knew about.
Of course, they must have thought that I would either forfeit, because they had taken out my best fighter when they crippled Tom. In that case all they needed was 2 people to turn up and they would have won.
The other theory was that they merely underestimated us. They have never seen neither Uvo nor Antony fight so it would be correct to assume that they were novices. In that case, taking down a couple of kids would be well within the capabilities of a professional mercenary.
I must admit, even I was surprised by Uvo’s ruthless efficiency. Although, he is not very different in training.
Still, what surprised me most was Antony’s display of instinctual evasion. I don’t think I have seen, or will see, a more trainable, complimentary duo.
Letting them go after this would be beyond insane.