Over and over, Master schooled Rick on the basics of the Ga Family style of martial arts.
He’d gotten increasingly anxious about the elapsing time, but eventually, Master stepped aside and motioned toward the path.
Ditto had warned him about this as well. A horn sounded again, and there was rustling in the woods. Rick widened his eyes in response to the increasing cacophony of shouts and breaking sticks.
Master gave him a knowing look. “You should run.”
Rick nodded slowly, then dashed toward the path. From the trees emerged the first few bots, most fully armored and carrying edged or tipped weapons of war. In an unarmed game? Though Ditto had warned him, the reality of it was something much less easy to dismiss.
He dashed for the path before they could close it off, and they altered their course. He approached the narrowing v-shaped mass of bodies and blades. I’m not going to make it! He juked left, then right as halberds descended to block his path. Two swordsmen in full armor moved to block his path twenty feet ahead. He leapt, as if to kick them down and they slashed.
Just before their swords might have connected, he used Roamin’ Cancel, which reset him back about eight feet, and though he broke stride for a half step trying to adapt to the change in position, the swords were out of his way as he jumped once, his right foot landing first before he quickly crouched, let his left foot join him, then dove between the two swordsmen as they slashed. The wind from their blades brushed against his skin, and he feared one of them might strike his foot.
As if in slow motion, he landed on his chest and slid a few feet before he used his momentum to tumble forward, curling his back like one side of a ball, then rolling back to his feet and continuing to run.
Angry shouts pursued him, but he pumped his legs for fifty yards before he looked back. He’d widened his lead, but new dangers lurked ahead.
From the trees emerged a larger male bot. Like the swordsmen and halberdiers behind him, the man wore armor. He brandished a large long sword.
Frantically, Rick looked for a way past the warrior, but the path had narrowed, and the brush on either side was thick.
Fuck. He kept running, then leapt, intending to use his leaping fakeout again, but the bot didn’t fall for it. In response, Rick simply let himself sail toward the large bot, though he crashed awkwardly, shoulder first.
The swordsman was large enough to absorb his blow with only a step and a half back. Rick bounced off, but landed on his feet and scurried backward, turning his head to see how close his pursuers were. It’s gonna be close.
The large swordsman bot swung at Rick, who switched stances, hoping he could use the converted sword-stance of Ga Family Style to get in. He dodged around the bot, getting inside and performing Swan Lake, delivering a side-handed chop to the bot’s neck. He used Jammin’ to immediately launch Toe Slapping Driver. His foot caught only the top of the knight’s head, as it had ducked in response to the previous chop. The game still counted it a hit, so when Rick’s hard downward punch followed the kick, he felt the swordman’s jaw break. The man staggered, but in Rick’s periphery, the first of the attackers who’d pursued him came within range. Without delay, he grabbed the large swordsman with the broken jaw and pushed the bot toward the mob. He didn’t wait to see what would happen next as he dashed away down the path, anxiously watching his stamina drain. He was still locked in battle. He glanced back. The mob had trampled the swordsman. He put distance between himself and the mob, but within a twenty yards, his stamina had dropped to a sliver.
Victory!
The swordsman had been defeated! The stamina bar disappeared and Rick put every ounce of energy into the rhythmic action of his legs, pumping them in time like pistons. Greenery flashed by, and though it rustled, he cleared them all before they could emerge and cut him off.
He rounded a corner and leapt over a log that straddled the path. Ahead, a moss-covered stone statue of the Buddha awaited him. He didn’t slow or look back as he approached, and when he got within a dozen yards, the Buddha’s eyes opened, emitting a blue light. He slowed as he approached. The sounds of the mob’s shouting rose like the crackling of a fire. What next?
A portal opened before the Buddha, and it emitted the same light as its eyes had. Rick swallowed hard and leapt through the window of light.
**********************************
As soon as he emerged from the portal, Rick reached out to Ditto. Can you get eyes on me now? I have more skills. He shook his head. No, wait.
Waiting, Ditto said.
Rick went into his cosmetics inventory. No. Not that. No. There!
He equipped a pink mohawk, then ran his hand over his freshly shaved scalp until his fingers ran into the stiffly coifed, six-inch wall of hair. Next, he went for a spiked leather jacket, followed by an incongruent pair of gi-style training pants. He completed the look with a pair of boots that looked like combat boots, but like the jacket, they were more flexible in addition to having thinner soles than combat boots had.
He rolled his shoulders and raised his arms, expecting more resistance to his movement than the leather jacket provided. Unlike a real jacket, the arm pits and shoulders had been built with much more flexible material. He ran his hand over it, and while it was leather-like, it wasn’t leather. Whatever it is, it works.
Ready, he signaled to Ditto.
Directing all cycling traffic to you. The algorithm suggestions and conversation should drive more.
Rick nodded. Time to find a fight.
He took better notice of his surroundings. The swamp. Good. He listened for the sound of the advancing lightning ring. A crack of thunder sounded, but it was distant.
It didn’t take long until he ran into his first Wild One enemy.
A jaguar type, it stood on two legs like most Wild Ones did. Black spots dappled its golden coat, and though it had the arms of a man or a muscular woman, each finger terminated in a black claw. Its head, though more humanoid than feline, had black spots on its cheeks. It let its jaw open more loosely when Rick approached, revealing fangs.
It crouched and glared at him when he got closer, and though he slowed, Rick didn’t stop. When he got close enough, the jaguar pounced.
Rick leapt right, and the Wild One missed. Then he initiated Roamin’ Cancel resetting him so the catlike creature was behind him. Blindly, he spun and crouched into a Spinning Wake Up.
It took the Wild One unaware, and although it didn’t topple the bot, it staggered it just in time for Rick to rise and finish the move with left right uppercuts.
The cat-being stumbled, then reached for him. Slippery Dodges must have failed, because the creature’s claws dug into Rick’s leather jacket as the bot grabbed him. Rick switched stances to Ga Family Style, then hammered a block against both the cat’s arms, knocking their fingers free, but two of the claws of the bot’s right hand still held. As Rick punched the bot hard with his right hand, the strange feeling in his hips and legs rippled through him again, slamming extra force into his punch and pushing the Wild One off its feet backward.
It rolled to its feet into a crouch, then sprang forward at Rick again, leaping high. Rick initiated Toe Slapping Driver, stopping the cat in mid-leap with a wild high spinning kick, and a devastating downward punch. Bones broke as he drove the beast into the ground.
Victory!
Two blues and a yellow resulted from the win.
Active Skill Acquired!
High Knee Stomp: A close range high knee to the opponent’s abdomen, chest, or head, followed by a hard stomp to the opponent’s leading foot. Note: May leave heel on opponent’s foot for leverage in push or grab.
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Passive Skill Acquired:
Stamina Camel: Vastly decreases stamina use on non-attack moves like dodges and rolls.
Bonus! Stamina Camel Stack: Second application of Stamina Camel increases effect of Stamina Camel.
Cosmetic Item Acquired!
Business Suit Bundle: Full business suit with tearaway tie (no choking hazard.)
Rick smiled as he switched the jacket and gi pants for the business suit. He kept the mohawk. Anyone watching yet?
Ditto’s voice echoed in his head. Some. A few have expressed surprise at your moves with the Wild One.
Rick sighed. He’d simply have to work harder. Thunder boomed in the background, still distant, but close than it had been. Without dawdling, he followed the path. In the corner of his vision, a number represented the player combatants remaining:
72…
**********************************
It was five minutes after the cat-like Wild One when Rick stumbled into another brawl.
Though the sound of breaking foliage warned him there was a fight ahead, the vegetation made it difficult to see the situation until he’d already stumbled into it.
Three players and another Wild One—this one an alligator type—had been locked into a fight when Rick stumbled down a ravine into the unexpected clearing. He’d thought about fleeing, but his goal was more than simply placing this time. He had to attract interest.
All three players had their attention locked on the Wild One, and for good reason. The beast was huge, towering nearly twice as high as the jaguar variant he’d recently dispatched. The creature turned to face the two players behind it. Rick conjured the yellow light of his solar plexus and in a second or two, he embodied the empty mind.
Though he hated to do it without warning, the first thing Rick did was sneak up behind the closest player and snap his neck. The player’s avatar was a standard boxer type, though without the padded gloves. The body faded as it slumped to the ground.
Victory!
Two orange and a blue were the result.
Boost Points +2
Active Skill Acquired!
Shoulder Hammer: A turning elbow charge followed by a spinning elbow. Arm may be extended to create a hammer swinging punch if distance requires. Ten second cooldown.
Rick emerged from reading the alerts barely in time to dodge a swing from the alligator-type Wild One, though the bot’s scaly skin brushed Rick’s suit as he juked out of the way.
The evasive move put him closer to one of the other players, a tall white woman with gapped front teeth and a pony-tail who smiled as she reached for him. Slippery Dodges let him duck out from under her, but before he could retaliate, the gator bot got her in its grasps. Shortly after, the bot’s jaws snapped down on her and she roared with laughter—a clear sign the attack had been too painful to replicate, triggering the laughter override.
Another player—a short man with a bald head who wore a karate gi—leapt at him with a flying kick. Rick backpeddled so the man fell short, then performed Swan Lake, stepping to the side and chopping toward the man’s neck. The bald man blocked the attack, so Rick performed Jammin’ to immediately switch stances, then used Jammin’ again to blast out with his right foot. This time, when Rick used a front-footed kick, the muscular force and coordination of his hindmost left leg powered him forward. Baldy tried to block, but Rick was too fast as he came down hard on the inside of the man’s left inner thigh, buckling him. Rick followed up with a brutal Ga Family Style Right punch and the man went all the way to the thick-leaved swamp grass.
Victory!
Two yellow boxes and an orange popped, but Rick didn’t have time to examine the contents; the reptilian Wild One had gotten him in its sights.
He jumped out of the way and was was midair when Ditto popped back in for a status report.
Engagement is increasing. I’m sorry I doubted you.
He had to stifle a laugh. All that data, and you still don’t know people?
Ditto had no response.
The gator’s back was broad, like a mountain, which gave Rick an idea. When the huge Wild One bot charged at him again, he again dodged out of the way, but only barely. As soon as it passed, he pursued it, leaping onto its back as it stopped to turn again.
The beast clawed at him, and he slipped down its back. Though its claws gripped him, Rick angled his leg back, then swung his legs, coming up between its scaly ass crack, but also slamming its large testicles. Reptiles didn’t normally have them, but this was a concession to human anatomy, he supposed. Developers must have just thought they looked cool.
The gator roared, but it didn’t drop, instead thrashing, ignoring everything but the gadfly on its back Rick had become. In the process, it forgot all about the last remaining opponent, a large Black woman in a wrestling unitard who began pummeling the beast with right and left hooks.
The beast ignored her, instead digging its clawlike fingers into Rick’s back. With inhuman strength, the creature flung Rick up and over its head toward the Black woman. She dodged out of the way as Rick tumbled into a grassy puddle behind her.
He shook the mud off his mohawk and got to his knees. Though his stamina meter was half full, he took a breather to reassess the situation, now that the alligator-type Wild One and the other player had focused on one another.
A devilish smile colonized his face before he hid it again. Try to get more eyes on this, Ditto. People will want to see it.
The gator and the woman had gone to the ground, the gator on top. Rick initiated Iron Fist.
There was a look of recognition, then panic in the woman’s eyes as he raised one leg and pulled his arm back, as if it were a hammer.
The Wild One never saw it coming. Rick’s arm came down, smashing through its back, shattering vertebrae. The gator went limp.
Victory!
The woman tried to scramble away before the gator’s body faded, but she couldn’t get out. The gator’s massive body had splayed her arms out to each side. Rick threw himself on her as the Wild One dissolved, landing just in time to get his arms around her head and snap her neck.
Victory!
Rick’s knees sank into the wet swamp as the player dissolved. In his ear, Ditto said, That got a lot of attention.
Good.
**********************************
There were so many floating icons, Rick didn’t know where to start at first. He let go of his empty mental state and emerged into the world as Rick again.
He approached the boxes that remained from the Wild One first. Two orange boxes, one blue box, and three yellow boxes hung in the air at chest level.
Boost Points +2
Active Skill Acquired!
Outta Here: Allows you to trap the opponent’s striking arm, apply a lock, and throw to the ground. No cooldown.
Cosmetic Item Acquired!
Diagonal Chest Scar: Been through a battle? Let it show with this chest scar that spans from the bottom of the rib cage to the opposing clavicle (may use diagonal in either direction.)
Cosmetic Item Acquired!
Green Boxing Shoes, Calf-length: Great grip, low weight, heavy style.
Rick contemplated applying the scar, but since he usually wore a shirt, it made little sense. The green boots worked, though they clashed with his business suit. Since the suit now had a few tears in it, it might clash in just the right way. He put them on. He didn’t worry about his clothing—it would be repaired at the beginning of his next tournament the way all cosmetic items were. Sporting a mohawk with a torn suit might make him more watchable.
He approached the next group of icons, those left by the Black wrestler. There were two blues and a yellow.
Active Skill Acquired!
Ga Family Style Skill!
Try Harder: Ga Stance Move. From leading dominant arm leading, perform a left jab, a hard right hook, followed by a leading leg front kick. Note: Must be initiated from Ga Family Style (AKA, “switch-stance.”)
Active Skill Acquired!
Wake Up!: A left jab followed by a jumping front kick. Five second cooldown.
Cosmetic Item Acquired!
Blue Headband: A simple blue headband.
Rick shrugged and applied the headband. Any amount of extra flair would get him more eyeballs. He’d gained a brief flash of attention early on when he’d shattered the branch in The Branches; if he could generate and maintain that level of buzz again…
He approached the final set of boxes—those of the short player he’d briefly dubbed “baldy.” Two yellows and an orange floated a good distance away from where the rest of the boxes had congregated.
Boost Points +1
Cosmetic Item Acquired!
White Silk Forearm Wraps: Pretty. May or may not provide an incremental bonus to coordination. (Just kidding—they don’t.)
Rick stowed the wraps in his cosmetics inventory, then contemplated where to place his points before putting two more into strength and a single point into stamina.
Strength: 4+4 (Ga Style Permanent Bonus)
Speed: 6+4 (Ga Style Permanent Bonus)
Stamina: 3
Satisfied with his progress, he glanced at the player count in the upper right of his visual field. It read:
51…
He headed out of the clearing, back into the swamp, looking for a path.
**********************************
Somehow, he’d gotten off track. Either that, or subtle shifts that happend to the world with every new match had also shifted the path.
Slowly, the swamp subsided, and though it merged briefly with the meadowlands, instead of fading to rocks and the ash lands, this time, it abruptly changed to desert.
Rick scanned the sky. The sun’s in the right place. Huh. He treaded sand. The air got warmer, but not as hot as a real desert would. Beating the heat wasn’t the point of the game; beating your opponents was.
The lack of ground cover let him relax, and he thought about his life outside the game. What’s left of it, anyway.Kristina had texted. That was a good sign. What Rick had done was a violation bordering on an attack, but Kristina’s mother was a true monster, more gruesome than any Wild One or punk rock combatant in post-apocalyptic chic he’d meet in Ruckus Online.
He had to get her back. If he told someone about his situation, they’d suggest he could just meet another woman and have a family with her. After all, as bad as the reCon was, the state didn’t sterilize reCons. Maybe it was faith in their handiwork, in the unbreakable bounds of the psychological damage they inflicted on their victims. That they terrorized murderers but merely sterilized those who
Rick didn’t want a family with any other woman, didn’t want an anything with another woman. It was strange, considering his previous life as a philanderer, but somewhere during the last decade, he’d become a one woman man.
Beneath his feet, the soft sand got harder and he looked down. He treaded an exposed rock. Was the change significant? He glanced around, noting that he’d crested a shallow dune, giving him more visibility. On his right, a lone figure trekked on an intersecting path. The figure turned; a player reconnoitering to intercept? Rick nodded as the man—he was sure it was a male figure—approached.
Rick altered his course, too, but that’s when the scorpion Wild One appeared.