Match 12:

#38 Nimia “The Shelled Tiger” Altamirano

Vs

#37 Omar “The Lucky Man” Mernissi

Inventory:

1 Katana - "Darling" (Keeping the name)

2 .44 Semi-Automatic Magnums - "Sonya and Cleon"

1 9mm Semi-Automatic Pistol

67.5 million dollars (Note: Buying a boat barely made a dent)

The pool shimmered in the sunlight, spots of white floating amid the blue water as if replacing missing clouds. It was a wide rectangle in the middle of a stone yard, deep enough to sink a weighted corpse. Long chairs and round tables were set up along its edge, as though mimicking a public resort.

But it wasn’t. This was a private place. The private abode of Omar Mernissi.

Mister Mernissi reclined in one of those chairs, his head resting on its long cushion as he sipped his sweet drink through a curly straw. The blue in it mimicked the pool, which mimicked the sky. A lemon on its rim was the sun, outside a glass atmosphere, all held in the palm of his hand.

Mister Mernissi was a handsome man, blessed with good genes. A large nose and a solid jaw lent an almost heroic look to his tanned features, aided by a firm build constructed by personal trainers and fantastic metabolism. Short, dark, curly hair crowned his head, and a black chevron mustache completed his look.

Mister Mernissi dressed well, in his opinion. He wore the finest tailored suits to meetings across this ruined world, yet as he was now, he lounged in a light, grassy green button-up shirt, decorated with yellow lilies, and dark olive shorts. He could swim in them, if he chose. Loose flip flops rested on his feet, and a gold watch clung to his left wrist. Over his dark brown eyes, he wore a pair of sunglasses, their lenses tinged in gold.

And behind Mister Mernissi, in his three-story manor, stretching wide across the center of his private island, gunshots were ringing out. He’d always found something oddly charming about the sound. The sharp staccato, born with intent to harm. It was lovely.

The shattering of glass was interesting too, and he heard a thump of a body hitting the marble patio. A very solid crunch of bones there.

“Lovely view, isn’t it?” Mernissi asked, his deep, suave voice echoing out into the now silent air, “Well worth the price.”

“Eh. Looks tacky to me,” Nimia replied as she got off of the bodyguard she’d crushed into the ground, his electrified gauntlets still sparking in the open air as blood seeped into his navy blue suit, “Adding your own private pool when you have a genuinely clear ocean out there seems wasteful.”

“Heh. I don’t suppose you’d understand, but there’s a world of difference between swimming in a pool and swimming in the sea.”

“Course there is. Most seas are full of moss and algae that’ll drag you down if you move through it wrong, not to mention all the hot water fishies. But this looks clean. Purified, right?” She stepped closer, next to his chair, and gazed out into the distance, where a ring of towers stretching for miles blocked this section of the world from the toxins out there. “So it seems like a shame not to enjoy it.”

“You may, if you want. I wouldn’t mind. The pool is closer though.”

“And still tacky. You have a clean ocean, and you built a pool.”

“What’s your point? Swimming in a pool and swimming in the ocean are two very different things.”

“I guess. You’re pretty casual for someone I’m looking to kill.”

“Why wouldn’t I be? I’m confident in my good fortune.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Your fortune?”

He looked back at her, and admired the view. Altamirano was far taller than him, but there was an appeal in that too; her legs, both cybernetic, were modeled well, mimicking firm muscles with startling accuracy. Mostly white, in contrast to her darker skin tone, though there were black portions of the plating that made them really pop, defining the shape in ways natural muscle couldn’t.

It was a shame he couldn’t see all the way up to where flesh connected to steel, but the jean shorts she wore did hug her hips quite nicely. It was a further shame she wasn’t wearing something more racy than a simple orange t-shirt, tucked into her shorts, but it did fit her well enough, and he could see something of her decently sized chest. Enough that he wanted to see more.

Though the rest of her features were still eye-catching. Her face was pretty enough, if roughened from obvious hard living, and she did have quite the startlingly bright green eyes. Mixed-race, perhaps? Another shame was that she kept her black hair cropped so short, but it did have a practical appeal.

Especially eye-drawing though was her right arm. He’d seen it before, certainly; she did have televised matches, after all, but there was a new addition up at her shoulder, and quite fortunately, there was a noticeable tear in her shirt there that bared the two little insignias, set there in a mimicry of tattoos: a bear and a bull, one in green camo and one in crimson and gold, respectively. Interesting to see she liked to keep trophies...

“You’re dressed awfully casually for someone looking to kill me,” he replied with a smile.

“You sure take a while to say what you want to say. You also didn’t answer my question.”

“Humor me. Why the casual wear? Is the thirty-seventh unworthy of your full armor? I saw your match, I know you have a full set of cybernetic plate.” He smiled. “Did it receive too much damage in your recent bout?”

“...yeah, funny thing there. Turns out getting stabbed through the chest isn’t great for armor integrity. Add in every else I put it through and I either had to retire the suit or repair it.”

“You chose not to?”

She shrugged, looking sheepish. “Well I would’ve but it kinda–you don’t need to know this, shut up.”

“Fair enough. It doesn’t matter how you managed to lose your armor-“

“I didn’t lose it. If anything, it lost me-“

“-just that it managed to be missing when you could have used it against me.”

She blinked. “...Okay, bullshit. My screw ups aren’t your victories. Besides, I still got through all your bodyguards without a scratch on me.”

“And I get to see your lovely countenance as a result. I count that as a victory.”

Nimia quirked an eyebrow. “Still going to kill you here. Compliments aren’t preventing that.”

“No, you’re not.” He smiled at the gun she now pointed straight between his eyes. “My, you really dislike being tested.”

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

“Call it a quirk. It just really pisses me off when some dumbass thinks ‘you won’t’ is an argument.”

“So I see. Pull the trigger.”

The eyebrow raised again. “The fuck is this?”

“A demonstration. Go ahead. I know you can’t-“

There was a click. Nimia scowled, and moved to check the jam in her gun when there was a snap and the whole thing collapsed into pieces, disassembled in an instant as its parts somehow moved in just the right ways, leaving her holding the grip as bits of metal rained from the magazine well.

“...Right.” She sighed, tossed the gun, then swung her hand out, manifesting her darling in her palm as she aimed straight for Mernissi’s neck–and the blade burst like a bubble, flecks of steel and fire and frost swirling before they came back together once it passed his throat. “...What.”

Mernissi smirked, watching the 38th study her sword in obvious confusion, then frowned when she tried to poke him with the sword, its blade bursting again. “Stop that.”

“No.” She continued poking, pursing her lips at the bizarre reaction.

“You won’t be able to touch me with it. I’m surprised it even reformed.” He studied the bursting blade, noting the heat and cold wafting from it. “You’ve already met some true monsters in these rankings, haven’t you?”

“By a few definitions, yeah. Would you count as one of them?”

“No no, I am merely a very lucky man.” Mernissi chuckled. “No true monster here.”

“Somehow, I doubt that.” She grimaced, then dismissed her sword. “You realize I can still punch you to death, right?”

“Can you?”

Nimia frowned. She glanced at her arms. Flesh one would probably be fine?

“Fair warning, the last person to try beating me to death had a flying trash can rip his head clean from his shoulders.”

“...” Nimia lowered her fists. “Alright, you’re doing a thing here. You wanna explain your weird superpower, or do I need to trial and error it?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m a lucky man.”

She frowned. “Right. Okay, luck field? Like, anything I try to do that isn’t beneficial to you winds up going horribly wrong because of circumstances I could never see coming, right?”

“My, aren’t you smart. It only took...oh, four hints?”

“Yeah yeah, laugh it up fucko. This just means I need to get creative.”

“No it doesn’t. It means you can’t kill me. Exactly like every other idiot that has tried.” He smiled. “It’s best you recognize that now, before you hurt yourself.”

“Yeah, no, can’t. I’m aiming for the top, so you gotta go.”

“Do I?” Mernissi stood and gestured to his mansion. “I inherited this. A perfect mansion in a pristine sea, inherited from a distant great-uncle I never knew, gained because everyone else in line ahead of me died of accidents. I own majority shares in multiple businesses because my fellow shareholders met with horrific tragedy so I might gain. Men crash so I might soar.”

“Cool, enjoy the skies then. You haven’t touched the heavens yet, or you wouldn’t be slumming it with the rest of us, Lucky.”

“Do I need to? Monsters don’t enter heaven, as I’m sure you are aware. Who’s to say anyone does? The First hasn’t been taken by anyone yet. Who’s to say anyone will?”

Nimia scowled. “So you’re content with this?”

“Content with a private manor in a clean sea, decent political and economic influence, and immortality? Not at all. I still have aims of my own, just not the same ones as you. Which is why I would like to offer a proposal.” Mernissi grinned and flicked his hand, forming a revolver in his grasp. A .357, its barrel, frame, and cylinder were all made of a black metal that was lined with gold designs, while its white grip had a single green ♣ set in each of its sides. “A wager, let’s call it.”

“...Honestly, I’m saying yes more out of curiosity for where you’re going with this. The lack of other options is a factor, but eh.”

“Well good. I would hate to think you feel a sense of being forced into anything. Now, allow me to explain the terms of our wager.” He flipped the cylinder open, showing a single bullet in one of its seven chambers. “You’re familiar with Russian Roulette, I assume?”

“I know more about it than I know about Russ. Y’know most people just call it suicide roulette, right? You don’t need to be fancy.”

“Heh. But what’s life without a little flourish?” He snaps it back into place and spins the chamber, before walking over to one of his round tables, taking a seat at one end and gesturing for Nim to take the other.

Which she did, though she also put her feet up on said table and leaned back, balancing on the back two legs. “So, what’s the wager? You seem too into this for it to be just ‘I get lucky and Miss Thirty-Eight blows her brains out’.”

“Oh no, I’m not interested in seeing your cute head blown off. That would be a waste. No, my intent here is very different.” He gave her an easy smile as he spun the gun on his finger. “I want you to work for me.”

“...Come again?”

“Oh I’m sure I will. Later though. You, Miss Thirty-Eight, want to reach the top, don’t you?”

“I think I’ve made that clear, Mister Thirty-Seven.”

“But you don’t need to kill me to do that. Skipping numbers is entirely possible. You jumped in at eight-six yourself, didn’t you?”

“I did, yeah, and I’ve been staying the course since then.”

“But, again, do you need to? You seek the top. Skipping one rank will just get you all the closer, all without unnecessary bloodshed.”

Nimia stared at Mernissi. She looked back at the manor, which was partially on fire, then at the bodyguard she crashed into the pavement. She looked back at Mernissi. “You sure about that one?"

“Oh don’t mind that. Simple costs of doing business. We’re the ones that matter here, as I’m sure you’re aware.”

“What was his name?”

“Hm?”

“The guy in your patio. What was his name?”

“Saeed something, why?”

“Saeed. Got it, good to know. Keep going with your shit.”

He raised an eyebrow, then shrugged, dismissing her strange quirks. “Fine. The terms of our game are quite simple. This revolver contains one round. We will take turns aiming it at our head and pulling its trigger. If it fires into your head, you’ll die, so do try to avoid that. Should you survive, you will work for me.”

“Excuse you?”

“It’s the only reasonable option you have. If you want to continue in your rise through the ranks, you will need to skip me, because I am otherwise insurmountable. Consider this a test of your own luck. The game will go for three rounds with each of us firing, and this revolver has seven chambers. It’s entirely possible that you will never hit the bullet. If you have the luck to achieve that possibility, you’re worthy. Isn’t it simple?”

“Simple, sure. And what happens if it fires into your head?”

Mernissi smirked. “It won’t.”

“...God, the sheer hubris here…” She sighed, then shrugged, smirking too. “Sure, fuck it, let’s give it a go. Might as well try something new.”

“Good girl. I’m sure we’ll have a great time together.” He set the revolver down on the table and spun it, its barrel pointing towards Nimia. “Your go.”

“Kay.” She took the gun, pressed it to her temple, and pulled the trigger. A small click echoed out, and she put it back down. “Your go.”

“My, aren’t you a brave one? I suppose that’s something of a positive in this line of work.” He took the revolver, still smirking that same easy, lazy smirk. “Or maybe not. That sort of brainless recklessness gets lesser people killed very easily. They bet everything on their confidence, and fail to realize just how much fortune really is worth.

“Do you think the men who rule this world do so through boldness? That bravery gives them the type of economic might that can cow countries? No. Luck makes them. Inheritance, the fortune of birth. No man who rules a thing has done so through bravery. He did it because everything fell perfectly into place for him. The world bent around him not because of his ‘ambition’ or ‘drive’, but because he was fortunate. Bravery makes martyrs, and luck makes kings.”

“So crown yourself, King Omar.”

His smirk twitched, and he laughed. “You really are an interesting woman. It’s good you met me. I’ll be the one to bring out your true potential, even if you need to be broken down first. Every king needs a queen as his enforcer, after all. It’s just how the game goes.”

He pressed the revolver to his temple as she snorted, shaking her head. “Y’know, you’re saying a lot about how the lucky rule the world, but money and birth sure as hell don’t stop anyone with a number on their neck and a gun in their hand from marching in and blowing their brains out.”

“Heh. So you say, but you’ll find reality rarely contorts itself to the whims of murderers. I hold this position through fortune, the same as every other king in the game, and you’ll see quite soon that it’s-”

To punctuate his statement, intending to finish on “luck alone that wins the day”, Mernissi pulled the trigger and shot a small hole through his temple that erupted into a spray of brain and skull as his eyes went wide and his jaw went slack, all his confidence snapping in an instant. “...wha…”

38 -> 37

Then he dropped, landing beside his pool, his blood leaking out into the clear water and dyeing it red as Nimia stood up, crouched down, and picked up his revolver, checking the chamber. “Huh. Was literally in the second chamber. Y’know, I’d respect your spine if you actually thought you could lose. As is, you’re a moron. Thanks for the gun, and enjoy your crown, King.”

Nimia gave his wide-eyed corpse a two-fingered salute, dismissed her new revolver into her inventory, and headed over to Saeed’s body, giving him a glance over. “Thanks for the fight, Saeed. Sorry I didn’t get your name first. Hope it goes well on the other side.”

She nodded to him, then strolled away, whistling a little western tune. It felt fitting, with her new revolver and the sun setting behind her, dyeing the sky a bloody orange. Or maybe that was just the pool. Either one.