Kristina-Anne had kept him too busy to drink, and he owed her one. Left to his own devices, he wasn’t nearly as effective—as a man or a fighter. It was something no one from outside their bubble seemed to understand.
Except Alex, strangely enough.
“You gotta choose now, man,” she said. “You can’t afford to leave anything in reserve for this.”
“I know, I know.” Rick stared at the menu screen while waiting for the server to load.
You have 5 (five) permanent slots available from your Rank Zero Tournament Victory. You have several qualifying skills and/or boost points to spend. You have 1 (one) days to apply. If you don’t use the slots within that time, you’ll retain the slots, but you won’t be able to use any of the skills you earned in that match.
Rick agonized over his choice. Stamina Camel and Roamin’ Cancel were locks. He imagined any number of situations where those would come in handy.
He looked over the choices again.
Stamina Camel: Vastly decreases stamina use on non-attack moves like dodges and rolls.
Saint Luck: Unique Skill! Blocks exactly one otherwise unblockable move from an opponent. Skill can be activated only once, after which the skill is eliminated from player’s move set.
Detonate: A jab-jab-kick combo. If the player successfully lands the first two jabs, the kick gets extra power. 30 second cooldown.
Snake Hold: Grappling move that can dislocate hips and shoulders if opponent’s strength is less than the players. 2 minute cooldown.
Roamin’ Cancel: Link Move. Although this skill causes no direct damage, it can be used to cancel any other move or skill to which the player has committed. Useful for frustrating an opponent’s timing, resetting a combination move, or abandoning a hold that has proven disadvantageous. Warning: This is a sophisticated skill and may take practice to perform adequately. It provides no protection from attacks. There is no cooldown.
Concentrated Strike: A sharp, snake style kung fu technique designed to paralyze, immobilize, or critically interrupt an opponent. When utilizing this strike, aim will automatically be directed toward nearest nerve bundle or theoretical energy cluster. 10 second cooldown.
Suffer for it: Blocks cause the opponent significant pain and can stun. *Note: Player character’s speed and/or strength stats must exceed those of opponent. Pain and stun effects are greater depending on how much the player exceeds the opponent in one or both these stats.
Back Tackle: A tackle to the ground from behind that has a high success rate if not countered. Great for sneak attacks, but can be used any time opponent has their back to the player. 2 minute cooldown.
Flying Knee: An airborne knee that hits high. Fast move with little preparatory delay. No cooldown.
In addition to that were the new skills and boosts he’d picked up:
Boost Points +3
That was fine, but he’d already had more than enough boost points to place what he needed out of the five.
Donation: Can temporarily move up to two boost points from one attribute to another. Total boost points for any attribute may not be less than one.
Greased Hog: Active skill that can be used once per match to increase chance of escaping a grapple or sleeper hold.
Rick had already decided on two boost points to keep, and though Alex argued against that, he’d held to it. Boost points were easy to get in the early game, but some of the skills he’d chanced upon weren’t things he wanted to lose. He would keep Iron Fist, as he’d taken that from qualifying. Stamina Camel was hard lock. It allowed him to ignore the temptation to build stamina early on, which made fights incrementally easier, but also caused frustrating dead-ends where harder bosses or obstacles set him back if he didn’t have the requisite speed.
Added to that was the complication of his reCon being in place. He needed to be able to survive a few early hits to get to the empty mind, and after that, he needed to end fights as quickly as possible. That meant speed and strength, along with the correct mix of skills.
In the end, he chose Stamina Camel, Roamin’ Cancel, and though it pained him to waste a slot on a consumable skill, Saint Luck was simply too intriguing to get rid of. It was the sort of clutch move he might one day use to flip an important fight from a loss to a win. The worry was, how would he practice it?
In the end, his sheet looked well rounded.
Strength: 2
Speed: 2
Stamina: 1 (need to check to see if points make sense here)
That took care of his stats. His final skills roster also appeared well-balanced.
Active Skills:
Iron Fist: Unblockable Hammer strike that can be used alone or at the end of a combo. One minute cooldown.
Saint Luck: Unique Skill! Blocks exactly one otherwise unblockable move from an opponent. Skill can be activated only once, after which the skill is eliminated from player’s move set.
Roamin’ Cancel: Link Move. Although this skill causes no direct damage, it can be used to cancel any other move or skill to which the player has committed. Useful for frustrating an opponent’s timing, resetting a combination move, or abandoning a hold that has proven disadvantageous. Warning: This is a sophisticated skill and may take practice to perform adequately. It provides no protection from attacks. There is no cooldown.
Passive Skills:
Stamina Camel: Vastly decreases stamina use on non-attack moves like dodges and rolls.
He’d pushed it to nearly the last minute, but he’d finally committed. The server came up and the countdown to entry into the world of Ruckus Online ticked down.
************************************
Rick smiled when he materialized in game. He was at the grassy plains that led, if you knew the trick, to the Branches.
Starting in the grassland meant unless someone wanted to hide in the grass twenty feet on either side of the path, he didn’t have to worry about being ambushed. He took a deep breath and headed toward the first tree.
In previous runs, he’d found the occasional skill and boost point cache, but none appeared evident, as he tracked back and forth, making sure he didn’t miss anything. A simulated morning sun was at his back, and he kept his pace brisk, but not frantic. The wall of lightning that was the ring-out was less likely to be trouble with so much easy landscape before him.
He tapped the first tree as he passed it, but nothing fell out. Damn. The player count in the upper left of his visual field flashed and dropped from 100 to 99. Someone had already been eliminated.
As he got closer to the second tree, the first bot became evident. Had he not known it was a bot by its lack of a nameplate, he’d have mistaken it for a player.
There was no consistent aesthetic to the bot. A male, it wore a mullet and a mustache, which jarred dramatically with its bowler hat and sleeveless t-shirt. Adding to the general sloppiness of the bot’s look was a tartan kilt from which unusually hairy legs protruded, terminating at mismatched tennis shoes, one grey and one white, both covered with what could have been red paint or, more ominously, blood.
Rick didn’t rush, but as he got closer, he tugged nervously at his hand wraps, as if their relative tightness would win or lose the fight for him. The smell of grass on the warm wind was pleasant, but he couldn’t stop focusing on his dry mouth as he let his eyelids nearly close. He let his eyes become unfocused, concentrating entirely on conjuring an image of the chakras. Once he had it, he drilled down further to the yellow third chakra, the engine of his willpower and determination. As if it were the most normal thing in the world, he then used his flattened palms to move energy from the blue throat chakra to the green heart chakra, then collected both and drove them down to his solar plexus. I hate horses. Like a snapped finger, the mantra further lit up the blue orb at his throat.
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
The bot with the mullet didn’t respond to Rick’s gestures, but when he arrived within its response zone, it abruptly approached him, stepping quickly along the tread-worn path.
Rick widened his strides and sunk lower as the dizziness slowly took hold. He swallowed the nausea down, keeping his concentration centered entirely on the brilliant yellow light of his solar plexus and the approaching bot, which he’d already mentally labeled Mullet.
Mullet stopped just outside arm’s reach and slowly circled. Rick’s heart rate climbed, and the steady thump of pumping blood made his ears ring. He tightened his stomach and launched a preliminary kick at the bot.
He had to quickly retrieve his foot to keep his balance when Mullet forcefully knocked his leg aside, which would have unbalanced him even had he not been under the reCon’s influence. He fell backward, holding himself up by his arms as if he’d taken a low limbo position, then spun and stood, almost over-correcting. He stepped back to regain his balance and barely got his arm up in time to deflect Mullet’s incoming elbow.
Everything became quiet. Though the sound of rushing blood was still in his ears, it didn’t trouble him at all as he counterattacked with a knee of his own, which caused Mullet to lean forward. Rick touched his foot back down, then came up again with the same knee, blasting through Mullet’s attempt to grab him and slamming hard into the bot’s face. It reared back, and Rick assisted it to the ground with an elegant trip, tangling its hairy legs before he came down with the bot, then quickly broke its neck.
The empty mind stayed around for half a minute, but as soon as it dropped, Rick had to stabilize himself, then lower his body to the ground to keep from falling. Two boxes rose from the bot’s body, one orange and one blue.
Slowly, the dizziness and nausea abated, and Rick rose to his feet. His hands shook when he reached for the icons.
Victory!
Active Skill Acquired!
Flying Kick: An airborne kick that hits high. Fast move with little preparatory delay. No cooldown.
That appeared to be the same as the Flying Knee, but with a longer strike range. Rick smiled.
Boost Points +1
He placed the point in speed, then did a few practice punches in the air to gauge how it affected his strikes. The true test would come in the next battle.
Strength: 2
Speed: 3
Stamina: 1
The game’s player count had dropped while he fought. In empty mind, nothing but the dance of the fight had mattered. On shaky feet, Rick continued down the path with increasing vigor as the effects of the reCon slipped away. The player count read 82.
It wasn’t until he reached Branches proper, after pushing the third tree and experiencing the teleport, that he met his first player opponent.
The player, whose tag read “ZizzZL12,” had an Asian avatar, but the character’s overall look didn’t say “kung fu” the way a bot’s might have. The man wore a cloak that seemed unshakable when wind rushed across the branch on which they both stood, making it seem it might be weighted. In the blink of an eye, the cloak was gone, indicating the player, who Rick had already come to think of as “Z,” had stowed it in his cosmetics inventory.
The avatar’s boots were of the sleek, 3/4 ankle, weight-training type worn by some of the top players in the game; he recognized them from highlight reels. They weren’t hard to get—Rick had at least two pairs in his own inventory—but that Z wore them projected an image of professionalism, as did the player’s bearing. Adding to the effect was the proper, modern fighter’s uniform of trunks and a skin-tight shirt.
For his part, Rick still wore the punk rock belt buckle and a generic training gi, and though he’d never been self-conscious about it before, it felt like the other player was sizing him up.
The branch on which they both stood was nearly as wide as a highway, though the stretch they occupied had no joining branches for yards on either side. The piquant smell of pine lay beneath the earthy smell of tree bark as they approached one another, but it didn’t take the edge off Rick’s anxiety.
The thrum in his ears had become familiar, but the dizziness was of a different level, as the height added to it. If he fell, would it be the end of the match? Far below them, the green of Ruckus Online’s less exotic world rolled through forests and hills, changing shades as the types of ground cover changed.
Z got closer, but Rick didn’t wait. Only one way to know. He launched Flying Kick, and Z’s face registered surprise, though he quickly dodged out of the way. Rick landed behind and crouched, touching the ground for balance. The sound of Z’s steps announced the combatant’s approach before Rick saw him, and he rolled, but Z’s foot followed him, giving him a punter’s kick right in the ribcage. Rick flopped and heaved out several colored blocks, which made his opponent pull back the next kick he’d aimed at Rick’s head.
“You… you okay?” Z’s voice was deep.
The second his empty mind arrived, Rick returned the question of concern with a hard uppercut Z never saw coming, followed by a dragged elbow down across the man’s chest, into his hip.
“Ah!” Z shouted, grabbing the ridge of his hip and dropping his guard. In the quiet, empty space of Rick’s mind, the yellow glow of his third chakra burned brightly as he tackled the other man. They came down together on the hard surface of the wooden branch. Bark scraped Rick’s elbows as he struggled to assert his leverage, but he wasn’t quick enough. Z angled his arms and legs under Rick and launched him up and off, though Rick kept his grip.
Z got to his hands and knees and pulled hard, dragging Rick to his face before he could let go of his grip on Z’s arm, and Z jumped atop him, reversing the advantage Rick had achieved only moments before.
He struggled with more driven purpose when Z got his arm behind his back. Rick twisted to get his torso turned to lean into the hold, shifting Z’s weight enough to let him then turn his hips and get his leg up and over, making it difficult for Z to either press him back or maintain the hold, forcing Z to let go long enough to free a fist to punch.
As soon as Z released the hold, Rick twisted further, and the hammer fist Z had aimed at the back of Rick’s head glanced along the side of his face, painfully grazing his ear. He slammed a backward elbow and got Z’s shoulder, pushing the Asian man off his back enough that Rick was able to wiggle out and rise to his feet.
He panted, taking the opportunity to catch his breath, but Z wasn’t moving as quickly as he’d expected. Stamina drain? Mindful he might lose empty mind at any moment, Rick initiated Iron Fist.
The speed had helped, but what Rick hadn’t expected was the serenity with which he watched himself wind up for the attack. Empty mind prevented him from being so attached to the outcome, and that kept him from clenching muscles he didn’t need. His green stamina bar barely dropped at all.
Z scrambled to get out of the way, but didn’t entirely succeed; Rick’s vertical hammer-like fist slammed his hip—the opposite one from the one he’d earlier scraped—and felt the bones crunch beneath the powerful attack.
The power move left Rick open to attack for a few seconds, but his speed boosts had nearly halved the recovery time. It wouldn’t have mattered. Z was no longer in any position to fight. Rick advanced, and that’s when Z did something unexpected.
He leapt from the branch into the open air and dropped like a stone.
Rick waited for the victory banner to pop, but it never did. A crack of thunder in the background reminded him he didn’t have time to wait forever. Disappointed, he jogged back down the path, looking back once to make sure the icons didn’t pop late. Maybe they only appear where he lands. Wonder where the hell that is.
The empty mind wore off after a short distance, but already the aftereffects were less than the last time. That he was already running might have helped him ignore the shaking, and there was no nausea at all this time.
Before he had time to contemplate it any longer, he happened upon the next enemy. Again, it was a player this time, coming across the Branches from some other entry point, if he had to guess, since they met at a crossing of the branches.
Stairs had been carved into the branch on which Rick stood, making it easy for the player on the lower branch, a Latinx looking fellow with short-cropped hair and a typical kickboxer’s clothes, to reach him.
Again, Rick focused on his solar plexus, this time pulling energy from above and below, letting himself get angry, but not out of control.
“Hey,” the combatant said. The tag overhead carried a simpler name. Must have paid for that.He’d seen that players could pay for dominant, single name titles. They could earn them, too, but the treadmill to earning enough in-game currency was both steep and specific. Rick himself hadn’t earned a single “Ruck,” the term Dokutan had minted for their in-game earnings. He couldn’t even qualify for the money until he hit rank five. When he’d chosen his own name, he’d had to settle for R1cktus_Gr1nus, a handle Alex had thought quite clever.
This guy’s name was Alan John Whit, but Rick reflexively reduced him to AJW.
“Hey,” the guy said again.
Rick ignored him, focused entirely on combatting the dizziness and nausea of his reCon, building as much of the yellow energy in his mind’s eye as he could while keeping it centered on his solar plexus.
AJW shrugged and threw a tentative jab Rick blocked, though immediately after that, he had to widen his stance because the whole world began to tilt as if he were at sea. Through trial and error, he was finding systems and techniques to deal with the effects of his reCon. That he only had to white-knuckle it until the empty mind took over made it bearable, if only just.
AJW shot out a left hook that Rick barely dodged, and he had to back away to control the nausea. In his mind’s eye, he intensified the yellow light, growing it so bright it eclipsed most of the other chakras except the red at the bottom and the purple and white at the top. AJW backed away.
Can he see them?
The other man said nothing, though. Instead, he came at Rick with a fast left-right-kick combo. Rick dodged away from the punches and blocked the kick, then swayed forward, prepared to strike at the middle of three different images he saw of AJW’s head. Before he could, he vomited multicolor bricks all over AJW.
“What the—”
Empty mind had taken hold, and Rick didn’t let his opponent get to finish the statement. He blasted out with a Flying Kick; as soon as AJW put his arms up to block, Rick pulled Roamin’ Cancel, which reset his position, letting him take advantage of his opponent’s surprise. Rick’s three successive left hooks knocked AJW over, and he wobbled, putting both arms up to protect his head. Rick slipped around him and dragged him down by his waist, then cracked the avatar’s neck.
Victory!
Two orange boxes transformed into orange icons. Good. He could only take one skill or boost with him, and he now had at least one boost and one skill. He dreaded having to choose between too many options, though if he placed, he’d still have a score of them. As it was, he leaned toward keeping the Flying Kick.
Boost Points +2
He chose one stamina—just in case—and put the other point into speed.
Strength: 2
Speed: 4
Stamina: 2
Again he tested his jabs to see what the speed boost had done, then looked down to the path from which AJW had arrived. Do I have time to explore?
He shook his head and continued on the more certain path to the center, hoping he’d be able to summon empty mind again. He let the vision of his chakra diminish, then drop away completely. Shortly after, the reCon reasserted its dominance, though again, he shook it off, focusing on the feeling of his leg muscles pumping and the sensation of air coming in and out of his lungs as he jogged.
His whole body shook, as if he’d been running for hours. Slowly, it subsided, but he was so tired.How many of these fights can I take?
He should have trained harder, but would that have been possible? Kristina-Anne had already cast worried looks at him, and if he lost her, what was the point? Long ago, he’d learned that while it was occasionally useful to train or fight past the point of exhaustion so you knew you could, doing it every day only made him sloppier and less effective.
He grunted as he jumped from branches and entered the exit cave, readying himself for the Wild Ones he’d find on the other side.