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Street Cultivation 3

Page 8

by Sarah Lin

Critically, nobody acknowledged the muscular man and he didn't seem to receive any seals. At least, Rick thought that the awarding would happen right after the event if it did. That set his first expectation: 45 seconds and two rounds endured wasn't good enough to matter.

  Rick continued to watch as other challengers entered the Ultimate Defensive Ring. More than he expected were defeated by their first or second attacker, clearly unprepared for the event. The fifth contestant was a thin man who lasted over five minutes by dodging every attack thrown at him until eventually being dislodged by a shockwave of aura. There was some grumbling, but eventually a suited woman approached and as his sponsor gave him a Showdown card and an official seal.

  So that was what succeeding looked like. It seemed that dodging wasn't considered a very respectable tactic, but the fact that he had endured five minutes and over two dozen challengers was apparently impressive enough. That was good to know.

  As the event continued, Rick began to realize that there were subtle strategies he hadn't noticed at first. The first few attackers were always relatively weak brawlers, which led him to a realization: they were just sweepers. They tested each challenger, eliminating those who were too weak early on but also feeling them out.

  The challengers had their own strategies as well, trying to score impressive knockouts against opponents suited to them. He noticed that the wolf-furred man was particularly aggressive, but mostly against opponents who tried to win with endurance alone. As he repeatedly boasted, his "Beast Claw" seemed to tear through defensive cores and even an aura shield.

  Over time, many failed and only one other person received a card and a seal: a woman who fended off attackers with excellent hand-to-hand skills. Even when some of the stronger attackers managed to land blows, she endured until a ranged aura attack knocked her unconscious. A group of healers came to treat her and it was announced that she was receiving a sponsor and two seals.

  Realizing that time was running out, Rick tried to mentally prepare himself to step forward. He knew exactly what he was getting into, yet he was strangely apprehensive. It was less worry for his health than his pride: defense was his best trait, so if he failed at it, he would feel like a total failure.

  When there was a lull, Rick swallowed and walked forward to the central ring. He felt like everyone was staring at him and sneering, though of course that was just his nerves. It was absolutely true that they were all watching him, of course, and whether he succeeded or failed, he would do it in front of everyone.

  The timer started at 0.00 seconds.

  Rick didn't boast, just waited for the first few attackers to test him out. The first rushed to pummel him with punches and Rick tried to defend himself as generically as possible: static blocks and other means to limit his opponent's blows. None of them felt heavy, but Rick didn't care about them: he was trying to give those watching as little information about him as possible.

  It seemed to work, because three different people attacked him with simple blows. One whose style emphasized kicking actually struck hard enough to hurt, but Rick expected her ambush and simply did his best to block the next strikes.

  Once she was pushed back, he had a moment to breathe and looked to the clock. How could it only have been 22 seconds?

  "You're a brawler, huh?" The wolf-pelted man stepped forward, sneering theatrically as usual. "We'll see how well street fighting stands up against the Beast Claw!"

  Rick knew that his opponent was blindingly quick and braced himself to move, but it didn't matter. Without the Bunyan's Step, he couldn't compete at such speed. In a single blink his opponent was in front of him, nails tearing through his chest.

  Except they skated off harmlessly.

  For a full two seconds everyone stared in shock, Rick most of all. He realized that the aura that had struck him was highly unusual, not like human aura... but very similar to an aura bear. After taking countless clawings from Blue, the "Beast Claw" felt like a cheap imitation.

  The attacker recovered and attacked in a blind fury, stabbing at his stomach as if to disembowel him. Rick braced himself to defend in case it was a different trick, but again his defensive aura shrugged it off. When the six seconds ended and a pulse of aura pushed away his opponent, Rick's clothing was slightly torn but his skin was untouched.

  He'd had everyone's attention before, but now they were focused on him. Rick realized that his inability to react must have looked like raw confidence, simply enduring his opponent's blows without moving. Since he didn't want those watching to think he was just a dumb brute, Rick decided to speak up.

  "It looks like your Beast Claw uses animal aura. Useful trick against people who have never felt it before."

  Enraged, the man pulled off his wolf pelt and began to step forward, but some of the others held him back. Yet Rick found that his confidence wasn't bravado: the "Beast Claw" was essentially just a trick that relied upon everyone being used to the modern world's use of lucrim. This wasn't an opponent he really needed to fear.

  The long delay got him to 43 seconds, but soon enough another opponent came to challenge him. This one was a woman who bombarded him with bursts of flame from a distance. Rick felt clumsy just weathering the attacks, but didn't see that he had any other choices, as his usual tactic against ranged fighters was to close the distance.

  Still, he got through. This time there was almost no delay before a woman in green robes stepped in. She approached at a sprint, raising her hand in a knife-like formation and stabbing down. Yet at the last second she shifted her hand, instead tapping his chest with her palm.

  Pain shot through Rick's body as he felt his internal organs twist... but he'd endured such attacks before. Granny Whitney had made him suffer far more than that with all her preparatory pills. Rick decided that it was better to show off and endured several more palm blows before the time elapsed and the woman was swept away, a surprised expression on her face.

  Rick rolled his shoulders and rubbed his neck to hide his wince. His insides hurt a bit and they'd probably need some time to heal, but he was far from disabled. Hopefully weathering two full rounds without retaliating would be enough to impress those deciding his fate.

  Just as the clock passed a full minute, someone he knew stepped to the side of the ring: James Travis. The man had the same flawless suit and arrogant sneer as before, but what worried Rick was that he hadn't appeared to challenge any of the previous contestants. Was this personal?

  "That confidence is just sickening." James raised his hands, making clear his extended fingers. "Let's end this miserable little attempt, shall we?"

  Though it was meant to intimidate, Rick was ready. His opponent jerked through the air toward him, but Rick was expecting the strange movements. When the first hand stabbed out at him, he deflected it just to the side. Lucrim stabbed into him... but in the wrong spot, leading to only mild pain instead of agony.

  James's eyes widened, but he didn't delay, immediately striking again. Rick didn't try to defend himself completely, just nudged each blow off course so that his opponent missed his targets. Soon enough James began to adapt, twisting around his defenses and landing a few painful hits. This time Rick's defensive core partially blocked them, reducing the agony to simple pain. Long enough for six seconds...

  The aura pulsed out from the central circle... but James flipped into the air, his body jerking along with the aura in a way that somehow propelled him over it. Taken completely off guard, Rick felt fingers stab into his neck, both choking him and sending agony shooting through his body.

  A more intense pulse of aura pushed James away and Rick had to struggle to stay on his feet. He shouldn't have rubbed his throat but couldn't help it. Around the circle, he saw that many of the other competitors looked disgruntled, and James was led away by an official for the rule violation.

  Was that good or bad for him? The blow to his throat had hurt, but the confusion led to a long delay and gave him time to work past the pain. Though he ached deeply all over, he rem
inded himself that there were no true injuries beneath all the pain. He knew pain and he could fight through it.

  He was up to 1:17 now. The next attacker was a brawler covered in demonic tattoos who used some sort of draining technique. It left him exhausted, but Rick was accustomed to fighting while drained, especially after surviving the demon realm.

  There was another pause and Rick realized just how much attention he was getting. He immediately tried to shove away any positive thoughts, not letting himself get overconfident. All that mattered was focusing on his opponents and lasting as long as he could.

  Another attacker stepped into the outer circle and began waving his hands. Rick blinked in confusion, not seeing the thin waves of aura until they hit him. Immediately he grimaced and staggered back, feeling the aura begin to burn into him. It was like nothing he'd ever felt before, the aura eating into him like acid. He instinctively drew on the Dark Blood Kettle, but though it began to adapt to the strange aura, it didn't work fast enough to give him any immunity.

  When the six seconds ended, Rick nearly collapsed, the acid still digging deeper into his body. He'd endured the round, but he was finished. He bitterly glanced at the clock and saw that he'd reached 1:39. Maybe he could last a little longer, but the next challenger would finish him.

  In the end, he was as much of a gimmick as the Beast Claw fighter. He'd endured all the other attacks because he had experience against them, but the first time he ran into something that was completely unfamiliar to him, he folded. It was a miracle that he was still on his feet.

  Yet... entering the Showdown was his best chance. Rick realized that the invisible acid was only burning him spiritually, so he adopted a crazy strategy: he straightened up and smiled.

  He felt like he was about to collapse and he had no real defense against the acid, but everyone watching didn't know that. Not unless they had some intensely powerful observation Lucores. To them, it looked like he had endured yet another exotic attack unscathed, and he saw plenty of surprised faces in the audience.

  1:47 now. Rick considered stepping out of the ring and going out on a high note, but at that moment he noticed someone in the stands: the man who had rescued him from Alger. He was watching Rick coolly, the smoke from his cigarette wafting over his face.

  That delay prevented Rick from forfeiting before another challenger stepped up beside the ring. It was an elderly woman he guessed was Chinese based on both her appearance and her traditional robe. She raised a hand beside her head and over a dozen bright purple spheres of aura flared into existence over her hair.

  Those spheres... Rick had been too busy reacting to judge most of his other challengers, but the woman was delaying, giving him time to realize how powerful her attack was. Her generation rate was at least a quarter million and he guessed the Lucore generating the spheres might be six digits on its own. There was no way he could endure that attack.

  "I won't need six seconds," she said quietly. "Want to step out now?"

  Rick raised his arms to guard his head. "Nah, that looks fun."

  She gave a slight smile, then stepped into the ring. Instantly the spheres crashed into him from all sides, utterly overwhelming his defenses. Rick didn't even try to hold his position, he just focused on keeping his defensive core from shattering and trying to absorb as much from the attack as he could.

  When his vision was no longer seared by purple light, Rick realized that he was lying on his face outside the rings. He hurt all over, more from the spheres impacting him than landing on his face. Though he wanted to get back up to show his endurance, he physically couldn't: he barely struggled to sit up a little before his body simply trembled instead of obeying him.

  The clock had stopped at 2:07.93. Apparently the woman had used more time on her demonstration than he thought, or perhaps the spheres had battered him longer than he remembered. Did it matter? Had he won or lost?

  "We won't sponsor him, of course." It was the Chinese woman, still standing in the rings. "But if his sponsor steps forward, we'll give him a Jade Seal."

  Relief flooded through him as Rick realized that it had been a gift. She had recognized that he couldn't endure any longer and defeated him with overwhelming force instead of letting some weaker attacker simply knock him over. And she was offering a Jade Seal, which if he recalled, was a reasonably respectable seal for Chinese delegates to give to a foreigner.

  And yet as the silence stretched, Rick's satisfaction began to crumble. No one stepped forward, and he realized that it was all useless if he hadn't impressed a sponsor. He had endured over two minutes and eight full rounds... wasn't that enough? Would they just treat him and send him home a failure?

  "I'll take him." The nameless man stepped forward, dropped his cigarette to the ground, and ground it out with one foot. He didn't look happy, but he gave Rick a grudging nod. "You have a bit of potential, kid. We'll talk later after I fill out the paperwork."

  With that, he looked away, conferring with the officials as well as the Chinese woman. Rick struggled to one knee before dropping back to sit down, just taking a while to believe it was really happening. If he had a sponsor, that meant his seal was valid and he was officially part of the Showdown. He'd made it.

  "That was amazing!" Raggest pushed out of the crowd, pumping a fist into the air. "You were so badass, I almost wanted to attack you myself! Hell, maybe I will - we're part of the same league now!"

  "We are?" Rick blinked as he realized it was true. After so many preliminary events, somehow he'd expected to discover more hurdles in his way.

  "Yeah, this means you're part of the Junior Showdown. Don't worry, they'll give you special training to help you compete. I can tell you have the spirit of a warrior, so I expect you'll be far stronger the next time we meet." Raggest punched him in the shoulder and grinned. "Only a few of the other juniors are cool, and there are a lot of assholes like that James guy. I look forward to fighting with you."

  "Won't we be competitors?" Rick asked. Raggest just shrugged.

  "A warrior needs rivals to sharpen their edge! And in the end, the purpose of the Showdown is to put on a good show, so we're also coworkers in a way. Once you get to the elites, it's like a big party. Too much like a party, if you ask me, which is why I'm glad to meet another real warrior!"

  "Yeah... nice to meet you too, Raggest."

  It looked like the young man was about to say more, but at that moment they were interrupted. Rick's rising good humor instantly froze.

  "You shouldn't be watching the qualifying events, Raggest." Alger spoke softly, standing behind the young man with his hands laced over his cane. His expression was severe until he looked to Rick and gave him a very small smile. "It seems you're a warrior after all. I would have been a better sponsor for you... but perhaps we'll meet again, in time."

  Alger swept Raggest away, leaving Rick sitting cold on the field. He tried to remind himself that he'd won a great victory: at minimum participating in the Showdown would earn him free training and an income for months. This was the best outcome he could have hoped for.

  Yet as he thought about Alger's small smile, it didn't feel like a victory.

  Chapter 9: Preparations for Departure

  The medical staff were extremely efficient assisting with Rick's injuries, but equally impersonal. He realized that they had to deal with countless fighters throughout the day and probably just wanted to get their work over with, so he didn't try to interact with them. Besides, he had plenty to think about.

  Other than thanking them at the end, they didn't exchange any words. Rick was surprised at how good he felt: not just healed, but mostly pain free. His core had still received serious damage, of course, but that was his job to repair. He focused on it as he found a seat, trying to learn what he could. The explosive spheres attack had touched him so briefly, even the Dark Blood Kettle could only develop minimal defenses against it. A useful trick.

  Though he'd wanted to watch the other events, particularly to find out exactly
how the black sphere throwing event worked, Rick was just too exhausted. It wasn't just the injuries and the healing, it was the utter concentration for those two minutes of his life. Even though he'd been allowed in, he found himself wondering if he could really keep competing at this level.

  Just when he was starting to feel a bit closer to normal, the cigarette-smoking man brushed past him, another cigarette dangling from his lips. "Come on. This is no place to talk."

  "Uh, okay." Though a little suspicious, Rick decided it was better not to question his new sponsor. They only went a short distance off the field and stepped into a hallway underneath the main stands. Normally it would have been filled with crowds and concessions, but for the qualifying rounds it was nearly deserted.

  "We need to talk terms, but first, you earned this." The man flipped a card toward him and Rick barely managed to catch it, because it didn't flutter like he expected. Though it was the size of a business card, it felt more like a heavy piece of tile in his hands.

  Rick drew it closer to examine. Most of it was a plain, slightly reflective gray. His name and an ID number were printed on one side and below it he saw a circular pattern with a trigram inside it. Though it didn't mean anything to him, the way it glittered green meant it had to be the Jade Seal. The card itself felt both heavier and tougher than he expected, not bending even when he exerted his strength.

  "Don't break the thing." The man cast him a sour glance as if expecting him to eat it. "The cards are tough, but they'll break if you put enough force into it. Now, the real credits are in a database somewhere, but they don't just give out new cards at random."

  "So this Jade Seal... I've earned it permanently, no matter what else happens?"

  "Well, not exactly. Some say all retirement from the Showdown is dishonorable, but there's different types. If you're found to be cheating or participating in some kind of felony, you might be dishonorably retired and all your accomplishments stripped. But if you formally give up, yeah."

 

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