Ditto hadn’t experienced the highest hopes for Rick’s plan when the human had first explicated it. It entailed a lot of risk. Logic dictated that he and Rick pass on the details of Hector’s cheating and contest-rigging to Dokutan’s anti-cheat hotline. That was the most certain way to level the field and allow Rick the best chances to rise up the ranks.
Yet, the man’s ploy seemed to be working thus far. There were still too many details that had to work out just so, and that meant it was likely to fail before the final steps. That it hadn’t yet had still surprised the AI bot.
He’d gone along simply because Rick Prophet had been his most promising recruit during the entire time Ditto had searched. There were two others, but they weren’t as committed to the game. They didn’t need it the way Rick Prophet did.
But that meant going along with Rick’s scheme to win back his wife and save his marriage. Ditto had studied every aspect available to him about Rick Prophet’s character. He wouldn’t have the drive Ditto needed from him without his wife, without something he could fight for.
Every avenue toward freedom had to be explored.
*******************************
The first night had been okay. Kristina-Anne should have known it was all for show.
Her parents had friends in town, which meant their good behavior extended, like a polyester blanket, over their home for the first two days, but when Monday rolled around and they’d all said goodbye to their visitors, all pretense faded away.
“We told you not to marry that man,” her mother had said.
“No class. No family. A foreigner,” her father had added.
It was a testament to how little her own family understood their only daughter. All three of those things were aspects that worked in Rick’s favor.
She’d never fit in with what her social class wanted, and her mother, the darling artist and socialite Abigail Muster, had ensured that Kristina-Anne would always loathe her family.
As for being a foreigner, it was Rick’s tenuous but constant faith in something greater than them all that had sealed the deal. She didn’t believe in God the way he did, but she admired what that belief had done to him. The Independent Nation of California had no respect for religion—so little that professing to have one was likely to hold you back.
Or rather, she’d admired what she’d thought Rick’s faith had instilled in him. That he’d violated her body was too painful to think about for long. Maybe she should have seen it coming. She’d agreed to a family, and Rick had never lied about how important it was to him. He’d always seemed to ignore that she was less enthusiastic.
Kristina stared at the walls of her childhood bedroom. It had always been a sanctuary. From school and its bullies. From the leering gazes of men far too old to be looking at a young woman the way they did. From her mother, who never thought to protect her, for whom the only concern was always how amazing her family appeared to be.
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The walls stared back at her. She’d escaped. Why had she come back?
It wasn’t that she didn’t want children.
You’d be a horrible mother. You’d ruin your children. The voice in her head wasn’t hers; it was her mother’s. Who the fuck was Abigail Muster to lecture her daughter about being a good mother?
What Rick did wasn’t right, but what had hurt most was how close he came to the implication that she’d attempted suicide that third time without caring about what she’d promised him.
Had she expected him to just give up? He’d never done that. Not on her, not on himself, though the reCon had surely been the worst thing that had ever happened to either of them.
Rick had always fought for what he loved. That’s why she loved and trusted him. She did love him; she had to admit it. Despite the secrets, despite the infidelity in the early years of their marriage, and despite the test his trial and reCon had put them through—still, she loved him.
*******************************
Rick’s Iron Fist came down, but due to the concentration of empty mind and the stakes of the fight, his sense of time dilated, amplifying the sound of his own breathing within the microcosm of his amplified perception. R3D_Button’s jaw dropped, and the fighter raised his hand in a desperate bid to fend off the attack.
Bang!
Rick’s fist came down on an eerily familiar golden glow, and his fist bounced harmlessly off R3D_Button.
No way. No fucking way! Rick almost slipped out of empty mind, but he steadied his breathing and glanced at his stamina bar. There was a sliver left, not enough to dash away. He was doomed.
Except R3D_Button hadn’t moved yet either.
Rick waited as his stamina rose, and R3D_Button remained still. Rick feinted and R3D_Button leapt first to his feet, then at Rick, throwing out a hard right straight.
Rick’s stamina had recovered, and his speed was enough to deploy Outta Here, which let him trap R3D_Button’s arm, then lock it, then toss his opponent back to the ground. He followed him down, landing atop the dark-haired fighter. Rick got R3D_Button in a choke, and the other fighter kicked out, trying to get leverage to get away. It wasn’t enough. Rick’s stamina held. R3D_Button gave another flurry of desperate activity, then went slack, then fought back again. It was a clear sign the other fighter’s stamina was banging the bottom of its gauge and recovering, but not enough to let R3D_Button sustain his resistance. In a few more seconds, R3D_Button went completely limp. Rick rested the man’s head gently against the ashen ground.
Victory!
Rick stood and brushed himself off.
Every major commentator has been following your final fight with R3D_Button. There’s chatter in message channels, both in-game and the official outside channels, too, Ditto said. I don’t have information about the betting sites, but I suspect there’s a lot of activity there, too.
A notification popped up:
All unclaimed skills and boosts belong to you, the Victor. You may choose one skill or boost (not counting Halo Boosts) to take with you to the ranked match. Choose wisely.
Rick surveyed the field where so many icons waited. He waded through them, briefly reading each skill, but sticking with his initial decision to stay with Double Jump. He thought he’d gone through them all when he turned back, but there, floating above where R3D_Button had gone down, there were four more—two orange and two blue.
Boost Points +2
Rick shook his head. Double Jump was already far more important than a boost point.
Passive Skill Acquired!
Muscle Man: Passively increases strength stat by two when performing grappling moves. Note: skill can be stacked up to three times.
Hmm… Six extra strength could be useful, but he’d never encountered it before, which meant it might take a long while before he encountered it again.
Active Skill Acquired!
High Jump Air Dash: Rare Skill! Allows the player to jump over most opponents and perform a six-foot dash through the air in any direction, including up or down. Ten second cooldown.
Rick smiled. Ditto, can the audience see what skills I choose?
No.
Rick’s smile grew as he chose the High Jump Air Dash. A timer came up, informing him that he’d soon re-materialize in the server room.