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The last song of the ancestors
Song 64: The underworld is not for amateurs…

Song 64: The underworld is not for amateurs…

The hovercraft sped through the tunnel at high speed. At a sharp bend, Fadala hit the side of the wall with a huge bang. It didn't slow down. Based on the rails, the vehicle continued through the poorly-lit, forked tunnels. After a few minutes, the hovercraft hit something. The air mattress burst and the hovercraft flew up and hit the roof. It tumbled sideways.

Akachi's ears were ringing. Everything seemed to spin like a merry-go-round. He felt his body being dragged out. Fadala and Nyatui snapped their fingers to wake him up. The young medium put his hand to his forehead. The ex-sage helped him up. After recovering, Adisa's son cried out:

"My goodness, Fadala. You're such a bad driver!"

"Shi, quiet, kid."

"Quiet? You almost killed us!"

Akachi noticed that his traveling companions' eyes were alert. He rose to his feet and stood at the ready. Laughter began to ring out in the dark. He heard guns being cocked and people running around.

"Fadala, what's going on here?"

"We're surrounded. We've hit a thorn barrier."

Nyatui modeled his Axé spear, made a few evolutions with it in the air and challenged:

"What's the matter, come on, haven't I got all day?"

Tweinz, several giant spotlights were switched on at once. The trio put their hands to their faces to protect their eyes from the intense light. Akachi looked through his fingers. The silhouette of a man in a dark overcoat appeared in the light. He was carrying a machine gun. He just wanted to intimidate everyone until he got some information.

"You've invaded my patch, boys."

Fadala, with the most debauched tone in the world, lit a cigarette. The gesture prompted the armed man to point his machine gun at the trio.

"If I were you, I wouldn't make any sudden movements."

"A non-adult man is no longer free to smoke these days. You're not politically correct, are you?"

"No, and I'm not even vegan. Who are you and what are you doing here?"

Akachi took Fadala's lead and started talking to the man who was threatening them.

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"We've come to take part in the underground fighting tournament. We want to be managed by Mr. Tuponili."

The man with the machine gun fired a series of shots upwards. Then he laughed as if he had been told the funniest joke in the world. A series of suspicious voices chorused. Fadala and Nyatui also laughed, not wanting to show any fear.

"You're very funny, young man. Unfortunately, I'm in a very bad mood. I hate it when you invade my property with lies. I don't usually manage fighters I don't know. I'm a gambler, and I don't gamble to lose."

Fadala let out a puff. His pupils dilated. His senses became sharper. It was the effect of the herbal cigarette.

"Forgive our impulsive friend. He's the youngest, he hasn't yet learned to control his tongue muscles, although he hasn't told any lies. We heard about the tournament and we want to make some money. Maybe even get drafted into the Ilu Nla Armed Forces."

Tuponili jumped up from where he was standing with the machine gun still in his hand. The spotlights dimmed, revealing a small army of weapons aimed at the newcomers. The head of the faction turned out to be a black man, around forty years old, with a rough face and short hair.

"I'm sorry to say that you've fallen for a fairy tale. The tournament does exist. But the most that can happen is that the best placed… or at the very least, those who didn't die fighting, can join Ilu Nla's Private Army. They say it does the dirty work for the nation's armed forces. They act in the shadows, just like us."

"They outsource the war?"

"That's right, outsider. You say you want to take part in the tournament, I've never seen them in my life. Who the hell sent you?"

Tuponili stabbed Fadala in the forehead. The assassin moved quickly backwards to avoid being hit. The assailant overbalanced and almost fell to the ground.

"Quick you are. But you haven't convinced me."

Akachi carefully removed the brooch from his shorts pocket and held it out to Tuponili. The man stared at the object with a disgusted face.

"It was the Happy Prince. He asked me to give you this. He said he'd recognize it and help us."

"That faggot! Only he can do such stupid things. Come with me. Men, clear the area, we have guests."

Tuponili walked towards a steel staircase. The trio of guests followed him. Guided by the criminal, they walked down a corridor. Akachi realized that the place was a kind of abandoned station that had been occupied and renovated to serve as headquarters. They entered through a door that led to a canteen.

A series of tables and chairs were arranged around the room. At the back was a counter. A man in a military jacket was cleaning some glasses with a flannel. On the left was a candy machine. Truculent men were drinking or playing cards. Some had military bearing. Others were cyborgs with advanced cyberware.

The group entered through a door behind the counter. They climbed two flights of stairs and arrived in a room. It was Tuponili's office. From there, he managed all his group's operations. He worked with arms trafficking and customized drugs. The host walked over to his desk and pulled out a drawer. He pulled out a box of Cuban cigars. He lit them and swallowed them.

He took out a bottle of whisky and prepared four shots. Before Akachi could pick up his glass, Nyatui moved his glass aside. The former sage raised an eyebrow at Azekel's grandson. He shrugged and blushed. Even in Fenyang's form, he was still underage.

"Sit down, tell me how you met the Happy Prince."

Fadala and Nyatui looked at Akachi. They hadn't agreed on an alibi. He explained it to Tuponili:

"He went to make a mini-documentary about mutant hyenas mating on Chrome Hill. We did a security service for him. His cameraman died, tragically."

"They didn't do their job well, did they? A man of the stature of the Happy Prince, in his apogee, in the middle of the bourgy⁈ Look, who'd have thought it. Although he's always been a culture vulture out to satisfy the vidiots on duty. Guys, you've got your tickets, but you're too early for the party. I don't usually welcome homeless people."

Fadala was suspicious of Tuponili's intentions. His gang shouldn't be the only one operating in Ilu Nla's underground.

"You want to test our skills, don't you?"

"Don't get me wrong, you're not chrome. You don't look like you've lived through a street op. Ilu Nla's underworld is not for amateurs. You might get a few Credibits, but you're going to have to work hard. If you manage to surprise me, I'll book you in the tournament. You'd better know how to fight. After that, you can shit all over yourselves, I don't care."

The trio looked at each other. Nyatui snapped his wrists, which produced a noisy sound that caused discomfort. Fadala put out his cigarette. Akachi slapped his hands against his knees. They answered at the same time:

"Deal!"