Level Up- The Knockout

by Dan Sugralinov

  He opened it to see two cops. One was right in the doorway while the other had been a few steps behind him with his hand on the gun holster.

  “Are you Mike Björnstad Hagen?”

  “I am. What on earth...”

  “Sir, we have a warrant. Are you ready to come with us?”

  “I’m sure it’s a mistake of some sort. What am I accused of?”

  “Sir!” the first cop raised his voice. The other one unfastened his holster.

  Hagen had some legal paper thrust into his face. The lines jumped in front of his eyes. “District court... to be delivered immediately...” he never finished reading it, unnerved by the second cop tapping his fingers on the holster all the time.

  “Just let me get dressed, please.”

  “As you wish, sir. We’ll be waiting right here.”

  Hagen shut the door. April had already gotten up and was covering herself with a blanket.

  “What do the cops want? Did anything happen?”

  Hagen just shrugged and started to get dressed. “It must be a case of mistaken identity.”

  Mike couldn’t have been more wrong.

  Chapter 19. Game’s Up

  You know, the world isn’t run by laws written on paper. It’s run by people — some according to laws, others not.

  Mafia

  WHAT HAD SEEMED like a minor misunderstanding grew into an enormous problem.

  Hagen had already gotten used to the fact that time could expand in a really weird way. A thousand thoughts would sometimes cross his mind in just one second in the ring. As for the court of law, you could spend a week there without even realizing what was going on.

  There was a man with sideburns telling him gravely that it was a “complicated case,” and that “the plaintiff had accounted for every nuance.” It would take a while for Hagen to remember the fact that this man was his attorney. What was his name, anyway? Robert Salk, that was it.

  Salk tried to fight for his client until the very last minute. However, he didn’t seem to go all out. Hagen being completely broke might have been one of the reasons.

  Sometimes the sequence of those court sessions struck him as a continuous knockout. It would often feel as though the noise in the head would go away, the courtroom would clear, and this imbroglio would resolve itself.

  It didn’t, though. Further facts would surface and complicate things even more.

  Assaulting Greg Goretsky wasn’t the only thing Hagen was accused of. Somehow, St. Ian materialized in the courtroom as a supernatural presence, confirming that the defendant had broken into their church, causing major damage, as well as crippling one of the faith’s most devout adherents who had tried to stop this sacrilege.

  “We all grieve—myself, my brothers, and my sisters. And we hope the punishment is imminent. Secular court should show the same justice as God’s judgment,” he said, adjusting his lilac gown.

  But things officially went to Weirdsville when the inseparable couple, namely, Steve “Jobs” and Doug “Donald” came to testify. Steve confirmed that “the hoodlum” had beaten him up after he’d taken a peanut from his plate by mistake.

  “Yeah, yeah!” Dug hastened to confirm it. “He was the one who’d beaten me up, too, and then he took a hundred bucks from me, that’s what he did!”

  That last bit didn’t hold water, of course, as well as the alleged cause of assault because Chuck Morrison had come to testify, too. However, Chuck could not deny the fact that Steve had gotten seven shades of shit beaten out of him under oath.

  “He’d given him a good what-for all right. Happened right before me, it did...”

  “They are steering this case wherever they want,” the defense attorney with the sideburns complained in between hearings. “What could you have possibly done to get the best attorneys in town try so hard to put you behind bars?”

  The CCTV footage from the DigiMart parking lot was brought in as evidence. Hagen watched his fight with Goretsky, mightily confused. It did indeed look as though Goretsky had just approached Mike to ask or tell him something, but Hagen proceeded to punch him in the face and then pummel him as he went down. The moment when Goretsky threw the first punch had somehow been missing from the recording.

  Even the judge looked surprised. “Many witnesses have referred to your alleged low height; however, it looks perfectly average to me, and you clearly have an athletic physique. Your talent could have been used for better things than beating up defenseless people.”

  Hagen could but open his mouth without making a single sound in response. He lacked the words to disprove the allegations. None of what had been said could be construed as an outright lie, but one would have to assume a specific stance to see it as the truth. He couldn’t tell the court that he’d been a miserable weakling all his life up to the moment when he started seeing system messages and hearing voices, could he? Or that he could become taller and stronger in the course of a single night?

  Salk tried to defend Hagen instead. However, his defense tactics left much to be desired. He tried to convince the jury that Hagen was just a humble martial artist with anger management issues.

  The defense attorney had also hinted he could go to the mental hospital instead of the prison, but to Mike that idea was even more terrifying. He didn’t consider himself a potential mental patient, at any rate. He may have doubted his normality before, but after having lived through everything that had happened up to that moment—and after having met April—he believed himself to have become normal for the first time in his life.

  He finally felt like a human being with rights and not some trembling creature others would look down upon to boost their egos.

  * * *

  HAGEN MET a few people he had no longer considered part of his life right there in the courtroom. Alexa Hepworth, for example. She looked just as beautiful and attractive, although she’d changed her hairdo and put on dark-framed glasses. She looked stricter, more businesslike, and more confident. There wasn’t a hint of the old Lexie left—the one who had wiped blood off Hagen’s face and told him about her fetish for wounded men.

  She confirmed that she’d witnessed the fight between Hagen and Goretsky, although she wouldn’t be able to name the reason. Her voice didn’t quiver nor did she mix up her words—and yet she wouldn’t look Mike in the eye. According to her, “Mr. Hagen” must have performed his work poorly. Goretsky would often complain about the quality of repairs, which must have been the reason for the altercation. She professed her absolute certainty that she could not have been the cause of the conflict.

  Hagen listened to her with an ironic grin. Had he been in love with her once? Of course he had—madly so. She must have been his first real crush. So what could have happened since then?

  Hagen started to notice things in her tone and her body language that he had paid no attention to earlier. Lexie was an unfortunate girl who had never managed to hold on to a steady relationship, having sacrificed personal happiness for the sake of her career. She had already felt like she would inherit Howell’s chain of businesses. Yet she remained miserable and lonely.

  Much lonelier than Hagen had once been.

  Reputation: Interest (8/10)

  Resistance to your Charisma: medium (7/10)

  The system didn’t lie or make mistakes—Lexie’s interest in Hagen was at its all-time high. But how much interest did Hagen himself have left by then? None whatsoever.

  Hagen studied Goretsky’s face and gestures as the Moose gave his testimony. He had once been unable to look at the man directly or raise his head in Goretsky’s presence. Now he just wondered how he could have let himself be intimidated by someone like that. Goretsky was virtually the same as Doug aka Donald—just a somewhat taller and fatter edition.

  Hagen could feel Goretsky’s low spirits perfectly well—the man had no idea how the “shithead” could have changed so much. His former nemesis now feared to so much as look Mike in the eye. It was as if they’d swapped roles. Now Hagen was t
he terrifying presence instilling fear into Goretsky—a miserable loser babbling about “physical harm and emotional distress.”

  Reputation: Murderous Hatred (10/10)

  Resistance to your Charisma: low (7/10)

  Even the stats confirmed what Hagen had already known. If he’d gotten into a fight with Goretsky now, he’d have made the Moose scram with a single frown.

  Mike had already developed a taste for being a winner. No matter how much effort, pain, or fear it would cost him. Even higher-level adversaries no longer seemed invincible. He’d gotten used to getting some sort of a buff or unlocking a skill in moments of extreme danger—or even finding some magic object. Upon his arrest he’d assumed that the misunderstanding would be resolved shortly and the court of law would proclaim him innocent. Then they’d apologize and let him go.

  That’s why he was somewhat confused by what his defense attorney had told him. Time and again he would sadly observe that “things were bad”, that the plaintiffs had prepared in advance, and that there was a whole lot of false but carefully crafted evidence against him.

  “They want your ass behind bars, Hagen,” Salk told him. “They’ve done everything to achieve that. I’ll do what I can for your sentence to be less harsh but you’re gonna do time, anyway.”

  “But why? What have I done?”

  “Nothing grave. But I suspect there is a deal between Howell and Goretsky. Goretsky hates you and would go to any length to make you suffer. Howell and Alexa Hepworth must have traded you for not being sued by Goretsky.”

  “Is such a thing even possible?”

  “Lad, you’re the defendant. Don’t you see it’s not simply ‘possible?’ It has already happened. And I get their approach—they win by exchanging your freedom for their profits. This is business, you know. You’ve had the worst of luck by becoming a commodity in their deal.”

  “If collusion between them is discovered, will that help me?”

  “It won’t affect the outcome of the case in any way.”

  * * *

  PEOPLE KEPT flashing before Hagen’s eyes as though he’d been scrolling through a character choice window in some video game. They seemed to appear from some haze and then vanish again. Riggs the security guard was one such character. He hadn’t changed—the only things missing were the glasses and the newspaper.

  He’d used his contacts among the local guards to visit Hagen in his cell once the judge had already announced the sentence. Oddly, he started with apologies.

  “I’m real sorry I couldn’t have spoken in your defense in court.”

  “Did you mean to?” Hagen had no desire to talk to anyone with any ties to the accursed DigiMart chain—or look at them, or even think about them.

  “Don’t be so quick with your judgment. It’s like this... I’ve had to watch all the CCTV footage when they’d told me to help find some evidence against you. So I saw what you and Wei Ming did to those junkies. I’m real grateful to you that you hadn’t ratted me out. But I hate to say I’ve seen evidence of foul play on the part of DigiMart. I had tried to show that recording to Howell but he didn’t react in any way. That’s when I first realized they just wanted to lock you up to evade some bigger problem.”

  “So what about it?” Hagen asked wearily. “What’s the difference now?”

  “The difference is that I’ve seen the original of the recording where you fight Goretsky. And it’s plain to see that he throws the first punch.”

  Hagen perked up. “So I could prove that...”

  “That’s why I want to apologize. I hadn’t thought of making a copy at once. Once the trial began, I checked, but the recording was already the doctored version. I tried to ask Lexie a few questions but she either played innocent or really wasn’t aware of anything. So then I went to see Howell—I have known him for a long time, we sometimes go out for a beer together. We’ve even been at the new strip bar, it’s called Chuck’s Bar Mark II. Ever heard of it? Sorry, I’m rambling. Anyway, after talking to Howell I realized the video had been tampered with. Your defense attorney didn’t even ask for an expert to check the recording’s authenticity. It’s mighty strange that he hadn’t even thought of doubting the accuracy of the video. But they have other evidence against you, too. You’ve destroyed some church, haven’t you?”

  Hagen grabbed his head with both his hands. “Mr. Riggs, I don’t want you to tell me a detective story. If none of this will work, why give me false hope?”

  Riggs gave Mike a stern look. “I may not be on the police force anymore, but I will get to the bottom of this. If I manage to find evidence of the video having been edited, at least that part of what they’re accusing you of will go away. You’ll still have to do time for the rest of it, of course.”

  “Do whatever you want,” Hagen wheezed. This half-deranged old man with nothing better to do but watch hot dog vendors’ operations could hardly change anything.

  Mike saw a whole bunch of people the next day. Uncle Peter looked sullen and struggled for words. Not only had his nephew become a fighter—he’d also gotten involved in something his uncle found absolutely baffling.

  “I haven’t been to prison, Mikey, and I don’t think it’s similar to the army. One thing they do have in common, though, is that your habits change radically. You will start following rules invented by other people. So it’s important to be flexible and adaptable, but you should never forget who you really are.”

  Hagen was really grateful to his uncle for support. Peter had paid his overdue rent and promised to take Hagen’s personal possessions to a storage unit.

  Initially, St. Ian had also wanted Hagen to compensate the damage done to the temple. However, once the verdict had been read, he announced his forgiveness of Hagen while his followers shouted their support for their leader. They were astounded by Ian’s alleged kindness, completely disregarding the fact that the only damage done by Hagen had involved two chairs.

  Unfortunately, Uncle Peter was but an honest retired soldier of modest resources—he couldn’t help Hagen do anything about the astronomical fine. Mike hadn’t had the remotest idea of how he might pay it off. He didn’t have any possessions he could sell to cover the debt. They confiscated his old car and some of his things. The resulting sum had turned out so pitiful that it surprised even Hagen. His whole life seemed to amount to a few thousand dollars and an enormous debt in monetary equivalent.

  His uncle vanished into the haze, still frowning and shaking his head. He was replaced by April.

  She initiated the conversation herself.

  “It was extremely hard for me to come here; I’m sorry it’s taken me a while. Things happened so quickly. I still need to come to terms with my feelings about you.”

  “Will you...” Hagen opened his mouth.

  “Visit you, huh? I don’t know. I’ll try, but if they move you to a prison far from this town, I can’t promise it.”

  “It shouldn’t be far.”

  “Still you know that I...”

  “I remember. You don’t like crowded places.”

  Hagen must have looked dejected because April tried to reason with him. “Please don’t count on me doing more. Appreciate what we have.”

  “I’m happy that you’ve just said ‘have’ rather than ‘had’.”

  “Cool, then.” April paused for a moment, adjusting a lock of hair that had fallen on her forehead. “My brother did six months for tax evasion. Do you know what he’d been regretting the most? Not having taken any photographs of friends, relatives, or loved ones with him. So, remember, Mikey boy: paper books, photographs, and magazines are much more valuable in prison than they are in everyday life.”

  April squeezed his hand through the bars and went away, to be replaced by Wei Ming.

  “Damn, man, I’m speechless,” he kept repeating. “But I’d had my suspicions that you were the one who’d beaten up Goretsky all along.”

  Wei Ming decided Hagen would be entertained by a few stories about the goings-on at Chuc
k’s, so he proceeded to give him a brief account of everything that’s been happening there. He told Mike that he really enjoyed working there, and that he’d had three fighters from the gym under his command, as well as how the girl with the jealous husband had ended up working as a stripper, with her spouse coming to every performance and trying to spot whoever would ogle his wife. Wei Ming had to keep an eye on the guy so that he wouldn’t hassle the audience. Chuck’s Bar Mark II kept gaining notoriety. Even though they’d started to charge double for liquor, the patrons kept coming in droves.

  Wei Ming left, replaced by Gonzalo who offered his sympathy.

  “Life can be really weird, blood. I’d never have imagined you’d end up behind bars. Hell, even I have managed to evade it even though they could have locked me up for some thirty years. But stay strong, homie. I’ll try to think of something. Don’t forget I have some brothers on the inside, and my word is still worth something with them.”

  * * *

  THE GAME was up. There could be no way out. The bout with the law enforcement system wouldn’t end with Hagen getting carried out of the ring. They’d make him walk instead.

  A while later—it could have been a second, or a whole day—a half-asleep cop with a shotgun took him to the prisoner transport vehicle and made him sit down. Hagen had been handcuffed, his feet shackled, wearing an orange jumpsuit. Some clothes that fit, at last.

  The second guard bent down and latched the shackles to the chair. That’s how they’d treat felons marked “unusually aggressive.” Greg Goretsky had done everything he could to make Hagen’s time behind bars as uncomfortable as possible to avenge his humiliation.

  It all seemed like a stupid and pointless dream.

  Hagen looked down to make sure he was still wearing the orange jumpsuit.

  It wasn’t a dream, after all. He was actually shaking inside a bus with windows covered in wire mesh and heavy bars on the outside.