by Sarah Lin
"Alright, Tom, one more." Rick began stretching his legs to make sure his exhausted muscles wouldn't cramp. "If you do this, then I'll be willing to overlook how you sold me out to Granny Whitney."
"I really didn't have a choice, man." Tom still looked guilty, which was the point. He moved away from his corner and shook his head. "Maybe I wouldn't have let you go this far, but I really do want to help. You're in a rough situation and you deserve better."
"If she gets her hooks into you, you're actually the one in more trouble." Feeling a bit bad for exploiting Tom's guilt, Rick faced him with a serious expression. "Please, remember what I said about her. She's going to do anything it takes to win, so you need to make sure that her winning somehow leaves you far away from her."
"I'll try, but Alger is getting worse these days..."
"I can only wish you luck with that." Fully stretched, Rick stepped out into the center of the combat ring. "This time we're going to do something different. I'm going to use my speed technique and I want you to hit me at exactly the moment I use it."
"What good is that going to do?"
"Maybe nothing, but that's my problem. But first... you have more than one speed of those bolts, right?"
"That's right." Tom raised both hands, a thin bolt crackling between them. "If I simulate actual lightning, it activates slower and it's weaker, but it moves at the speed of light. My normal bolts aren't that fast, but they pack a lot more of a punch."
"Use the fast ones this time, then."
"That'll take some work to get the timing right, but if you count down to your jump, I should be able to do it."
"Alright then. Three... two... one..." Rick leapt and immediately fell down to the ground, spasming wildly.
As he pushed himself back to his feet, he actually laughed a bit. Normally he might have had a chance to dodge, since the buildup to the bolt was relatively slow, but the bolt itself was still... well, the speed of light. More importantly, it seemed to connect with his movement in some way, perhaps because of the ridiculously-named pill.
Tom was standing nearby, giving him an odd look. Rick got up and wiped a bit of blood from his lip. "Again."
By the time Rick couldn't take any more, he'd lost track of how many times he'd been shocked. Just having all his muscles regularly spasm like that was exercise in itself, though he doubted that would really be meaningful. What mattered was that he'd successfully absorbed just a bit of that quality into his Bunyan's Step core. When he lay down to rest, he prodded at it within his portfolio.
The Lucore was seriously burned out, but by this point he was good at not going so far that he damaged them. Once he managed to reform it, he knew that it would be significantly advanced. He hoped that would include an upgrade in the evaluation, but it would be a few days before the app properly calculated that number. For now, it was enough that he could feel the progress.
"Is that finally it?" Tom regarded him with another strange look. "I hope so, because this is starting to feel masochistic."
"Yeah, I think that's the most I can accomplish today. Thanks, man." Rick leaned over far enough to get his phone, though just that effort made his muscles ache.
Most of it was just the usual messages while he'd been sparring. Emily had sent him a detailed list of tasks she wanted him to complete before they next met. Melissa had sent him a link entitled "grievous training accident" that just had a video of a dog falling over. And... three missed calls from Damian. Sighing, Rick tapped to answer him.
"What the hell were you doing?" Damian answered immediately, practically spitting out the words, but then spoke over himself before Rick could say anything. "Never mind, doesn't matter. Just get to the CSLA website and see the new announcement."
"What's it s-"
"Never mind that too! Read it later, but they announced a new assignment. Apparently there will be multiple lucrim anomalies that will be rupturing simultaneously, and all contract workers need to be present in order to take care of it."
Rick blinked, feeling like he was still missing something. "If they know they're going to rupture, can't their top fighters just take care of it first?"
"Exactly. Everyone who isn't an idiot will eventually figure out that the terms are artificial: they're setting this up. That means this is effectively a test, and a test means that they're probably done. Maybe we cleaned up all the anomalies, maybe not, but they're probably going to close the program. This competition is everyone's last chance to earn merits and impress the top brass."
"Including Jack. Fuck." Rick rubbed his eyes with his other hand. He'd hoped he'd have more time, but now... "Do you think he knew about this ahead of time?"
"I'll bet that he did. That Pan Zhou fucker was mouthing off as if he knew more." Damian sounded bitter, then let out a growl and refocused. "So the reason he hasn't ever taken his shot at you is that he knew he'll have a perfect chance at the last competition. Given that it's likely to be chaos, he can injure or even try to kill you without it drawing too much suspicion."
So much for having three months to train. Rick saw the date on the announcement and winced. "Yeah, I get it. I could sit out, but even then... he'd just have an entire month of free time to come after me."
"I think that'd be a terrible idea anyway. Whatever the CSLA intends with all this, they're very serious about everyone coming. Look at the terms in the announcement, they could sue you for breach of contract. Maybe not fairly, but against a corporation with pockets that deep, does it really matter?"
"No. Thanks for warning me, Damian."
"It's not just that." There was a pause, then Damian spoke again, quieter. "By all accounts, the top competitors are going to group up into teams - the idea is that they're looking for our ability to work, not necessarily our individual capacity. You agreed that we could work together, and now's the time. Join my team."
"Uh..." Rick hadn't expected the conversation to go that way and tried to think through the consequences. "I assume you'd help me fight Jack, and in return I help you win the competition?"
"Essentially, yes. I won't lie, I intend to come out ahead on the merit scoreboard, but I'd compensate you for that. Money doesn't matter to me, I need to get a permanent position in the Global Lucrim Authority."
"I... I need time to think, man. Jack is going to be coming for me sooner than I thought."
"And I'm offering you a way to get through that fight."
Rick rubbed his forehead as if he could squeeze an answer out, then slowly shook his head. He realized that was completely useless over the phone and forced himself to speak. "We'll talk about everything later, okay? Right now I need to get some things set up."
"Fine." Damian didn't sound happy, but he hung up. Rick just stared at the phone for a while, trying to absorb the new information.
Though he had a new foundation and had made real progress, this was just too soon. His portfolio was still a weird mess that didn't quite add up by any method he used. Even if he was stronger than before, he hadn't reached his potential. Joining up with Damian was the logical easy choice, but that would basically mean forfeiting the competition and possibly losing his job.
Assuming there was any chance that he'd keep it. After all, he was up against people with bigger lucrima portfolios and far more qualifications. Rick shook himself and put all of that aside, focusing on what he could do now.
"Hey, Tom." His call stopped the other man before he could finish getting his things together. "Listen, I need to contact Granny Whitney..."
Chapter 50: Last Second Alliances
For once, Rick had engaged in conversation with Granny Whitney of his own volition. He wasn't sure if that made him crazy or not, but it was too late to back out now. She sat on the opposite side of her car, just watching him like a grandmotherly predator.
"Well, dearie, I do hope I haven't been called all the way here for no reason. Spit it out."
"I think you already know about the upcoming competition, and the fact that Jack will attack me
during it." He sat forward and forced himself not to break eye contact.
"I'd be a bit incompetent if I didn't."
"I think that you're counting on me eliminating Jack from the competition to slight your rival, but that wasn't part of our agreement."
Granny Whitney watched him with a half-smile, eyes glittering. "I think you're going to fight him anyway."
"This isn't a fight you set up beforehand, and you know my chances of victory are low. It seems to me that it would be worth something to you if I could guarantee his elimination." Rick saw the look in her eyes and pressed forward hastily. "Since that would be worth something to you, I propose that I receive my compensation in advance in order to make the outcome we both want more likely."
"Well, look at you." The old woman settled back in her seat, somehow vaguely satisfied. "It's an interesting offer, but I don't think I need to take it. Even if you fail, I suspect that Jack will cause himself to lose the merit competition in his pursuit of the vendetta. That's sufficient."
Rick swallowed. He hadn't expected her to take quite that tack, but he had one card left to play. "I already concluded our agreement when I cleared the anomalies for you, so I have no motivation to fight Jack. In fact, it would be strongly in my best interest to avoid him and try to win the contest so that I won't be out of a job. Letting him join the CSLA would only benefit me."
"You'd do that just to spite me?"
"But I'd rather not. This way, we can both help each other."
She watched him with eyes like ice, the moment stretching out painfully, then gave a low chuckle. "Well, you've got moxy. I'll accept your offer for the sake of that, if nothing else. Expect to receive a little package by tonight that should help you in the upcoming competition." Granny Whitney leaned forward just slightly and gave him a pleasant smile. "But if you fail me and Gerald's man gets anywhere near the GLA, I'll consider you deeply in my debt."
"I won't fail." It was easy to say that and harder to believe it, but he kept his voice firm. This was the least of the risks taken, since he thought he could hinder Jack even if he couldn't win. Managing to accomplish all his other goals... that would be the real question.
Granny Whitney dropped him off as soon as their conversation was done, leaving him not particularly close to the house. Thanks to having his bike in his pocket, that wasn't too large an imposition. As Rick headed home, he thought about everything he was facing.
The fight was the most obvious threat, but maybe not the most serious. There was no way of knowing who the Global Lucrim Authority would employ - he just knew that the competition was fierce, which meant he could very well be at risk of losing his job. He felt stupid for assuming he'd have job security in the first place - the whole setup struck him as frustratingly exploitative, just using local fighters for their purposes.
Of course, that was probably what everyone should have known they were doing. Rick thought about that for the rest of the bike home, turning the facts over in his mind.
When he got back he looked forward to talking to Melissa, but he saw that wasn't going to happen yet: Damian sat on the roof of the apartment complex, directly over his door. By the time Rick made his way up to the second floor, the other man dropped down to stand in his way.
"There's only a week or so until the last anomaly test, Rick. I need an answer." The other young man was wearing his mirrored sunglasses again, and this time instead of a sense of cheesiness they created a terrible distance between them. "It sounds like information is already leaking from the CSLA about the exact terms of the competition, so the information I have could be very useful to you. But I need you to commit on this."
Rick took a deep breath instead of answering. On one level, it made the most sense to take the offer and gain a powerful ally who could help him against Jack. But he remembered how serious Damian had been on the rooftop of the shopping mall. If it came down to it, Damian would throw him under the bus to advance his own goals. Given the threat from Jack, Rick didn't want to risk that - in fact, he wondered if Damian wanted him solely as a distraction.
"I don't think we should work together directly," Rick said carefully. "You beat me up when we first met, and we didn't try to convince anyone we became friends in the demon realm. Won't they be suspicious that I'm suddenly on your side?"
"Possibly, but I'm willing to take that risk. I don't like this hesitation."
"I have a counter-proposal: I'll help you win the competition, but I won't do it directly."
Damian tilted his head to the side and examined him. "How, exactly?"
"If everyone else is joining teams, then I don't have much chance of winning a normal victory, no matter what the terms of the competition are. But since Jack will want to attack me, I can prepare for that. I can guarantee that I'll take him out of the competition, and hopefully distract his team as well. If I do that, will that be enough assistance for you?"
"Maybe, but I don't like it. Seems a bad bet on my part."
"And throwing in my entire lot with you seems like a bad bet for me." Rick just stared into the sunglasses, not even trying to see the other man's eyes. After a long pause, Damian slowly removed them, tucked them into his coat, and sighed.
"I was hoping you'd help me earnestly, but I can see that it'd be forced. Very well, then, I'll take the chance. If you can actually help me indirectly, I'll count myself in your debt. If this turns out to be a gambit to benefit you..." He shrugged and turned away. "I'll understand, but that will be the end between us."
Before Rick could ask what he meant, Damian vaulted off the railing and into the parking lot. His lucrim sports car flowed into being around him before he hit the asphalt and he sped off into the city in a streak of red. Rick stared after him for a while, then just shook his head. More stakes were the last thing he needed, but he couldn't handle every threat at once.
When he started to unlock the apartment door, it opened first. Melissa was on the other side and gave him a nervous look. "What was that about? I heard most of the conversation, but I don't get what competition you're talking about."
He went inside and explained the situation to her, including the part about Granny Whitney. His sister listened carefully, then sighed. "It sounds like everything's going to hell all at once. Do you think you can handle it all?"
"Honestly, no." Rick sat back on the couch and rubbed his eyes. "But I still have to prepare as well as I can during these last few days and try. Since I don't know the details of the competition, there's a whole unknown variable that could go for or against me."
"Even if you don't work with Damian, can you get a team anyway? I'm sure Emily would help you."
"I'm not sure they'd allow outsiders into the competition."
"But you're not sure - is there any way you can check? Have you looked over the terms of the competition in the app thing they gave you?"
"I looked at it, but..." Rick frowned and got out his phone, reading through the information more carefully. In the fine print he hadn't gotten to, worried about Granny Whitney, he found a clause that specified that competitors were allowed to bring teammates who were within one weight class of them. "Well, I'll be damned. You can."
"I guess that's bad, if it means Jack will be getting crazy assassins along with him."
"No, the American Basilisk doesn't want to look involved with him, remember? I'm sure he'll have other thugs, but they won't be professional killers. I can probably manage that." Though he spoke confidently, he found himself doubting. "I doubt I could pressure Tom into it, so it might just be Emily..."
"That's not true. You have me."
Rick looked up at Melissa sharply and saw that she was staring at him, ready for an argument. He didn't want to insult her, but the idea of his little sister going into a dangerous environment with people like Jack made him nervous. If something happened, he didn't think he could forgive himself. "Melissa, I don't think..."
"I'm trying to join the YLAA, remember? I'll be going up against every asshole Birthrigh
ter in the country who thinks they can buy their way in. If I don't push myself, I won't be ready."
"You don't think your new skill would be good enough to get in? I think it's quite impressive."
"But you don't think it's impressive enough for me to help my own brother fight?" Melissa angrily pulled out her phone and tapped through, bringing up her own profile. "Look at this, Rick. Really look. I have a five digit Lucore."
[Name: Melissa Hunter
Ether Tier: 17th
Ether Score: 282
Lucrim Generation: 21,325
Current Lucrim: 3374]
[Melissa Hunter's Lucrima Portfolio
Foundation: 3500 (Lv II)
Manifest Destruction: 11,225 (Lv III)
Manifest Aura: 1750 (Lv II)
Combat Core: 4850 (Lv III)
Total Lucrim: 21,325]
Though he had to admit that Melissa had advanced considerably, and her new technique was dangerous, she would be going up against experienced fighters. He was about to argue back when Melissa continued speaking in a soft voice.
"I'm not saying I'd fight on the front lines. But don't you think I could play a support role? I've been working on expanding the area of Manifest Destruction. If you run into something like those disruption monsters you talked about, I could be helpful."
"Maybe, but you'd be making yourself a target for other teams." He could feel his resolve wavering, however. Melissa was an adult now and he wasn't in charge of her life. If she wanted to test herself like this, what right did he have to stop her? At least if this was really a competition, the judges would be watching closely enough that they'd save her life... hopefully.
"I'll stand down if it comes to that, honestly. I stood back and let you fight Mike, didn't I? I'm not dumb enough to fight Jack, but I don't want to stay on the sidelines this time."
