A cool wind subtly blew by Hector’s neck, ruffling his white hair. He bounced the Farmhand on his shoulder, eyes scanning the area.
How had the man gotten here before them? Did they somehow work out which direction they were going in and plan ahead? That was a lot of foresight, and from their short meeting, Hector assumed that it wasn’t something the bearded man could do.
But what did this leather-bound man gain from being here? He couldn’t just want to help an ally; gangs weren’t typically that close. System scan him.
————————————————
///: Acquiring target stats…
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///
Cultivation level: [Gravity Forging - 2]
Talent: [None]
Talent Fragment: [None]
///
————————————————
“Mana Cultivator,” Hector mumbled under his breath. He threw a glance at Lincoln. The boy shrugged. Hector sighed. “Well, we knew this could happen when he got away. And it’s only—”
Lincoln’s finger shot up, pressing them against his own lips, shushing Hector. “Last time we said that, a bunch of them poured out of nowhere. We shouldn’t jinx it.”
How superstitious. Next, he’s going to blame it on the underwear that he’s wearing.
Hector adjusted the Farmhand on his shoulder and walked forward. “Come on then. There is no point in delaying it. Besides, who knows? It might not turn into a fight.”
Lincoln rolled his eyes and followed behind—so much doubt.
Hector walked over. The afternoon sun had slowly begun its descent. The old abandoned brewery drew long shadows, sticking to the houses that made up this back street.
One man from the group looked over and frowned, tapping the person next to him on the shoulder. The person also frowned and did the same next to him until it reached the leather-bound man.
“Ah, great, more people have turned up. What is this, a children’s home?” He said, resting one hand on his hip. The man brought a finger to his mouth and picked at something. “Are these more friends of yours?”
Jodie turned as the man gestured behind her. That was a mistake, which thankfully the man didn’t use to sneak a punch. “Hector, Lincoln,” she said, a smile blooming on her face. It faded as her eyes locked onto Hector’s shoulder. “Who’s that?”
Well, this is going to be fun to explain. But it seems like I’ll at least have some time to figure it out.
“I’ll tell you in a sec,” Hector said, stopping just behind her. Standing next to a side wall, looking rather bored, Emela and Nyx watched on. Hector waved at them.
Emela waved back, pushing off the wall and making her way over, Nyx following behind.
The leather-bound man flinched as they approached, reflexively taking a slight step back. Most seemed not to notice, but it was clear as day to Hector. The man had some experience. At the very least, he knew these two were stronger than him.
“So, what’s going on here?” Hector said, crunching a piece of glass beneath his sandals, as he bounced the Farmhand to a comfortable position on his shoulder.
“These guys told us we have to pay up. Or leave,” Jodie said, her head snapping towards the man. Her eyes were fierce and filled with accusation. “But I told him you can’t just claim this place.”
I mean, there is no rule saying they can’t.
From the corner of his eye, Hector watched as the bearded man hobbled over and whispered something into the leather-bound man’s ear. The man’s face contorted into a sneer, and he locked eyes with Hector.
“You are the one that ambushed John and his boys. Brave,” the leather-bound man said, shaking his head. He tapped the bearded man’s—John’s—shoulder and shoved him back in line. “What were you looking to take my supply of Ham?”
Huh. While that sounds like it would be really good to eat. I wouldn’t even have anywhere to keep it. I don’t have a freezing array.
The man must have found the look on his face unconvincing as he sneered. “These Ham pills are difficult to come by. Very few people can hold deals with the Collar gang like we do. So I would back off unless you want trouble on your head.” The man’s eyes flickered to Emela and Nyx.
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
“Huh? I thought you were talking about meat.” Lincoln said, scratching the back of his neck.
Marcus shook his head. He brought a finger to his lip in thought and nodded, figuring something out. “I’d heard a customer mention it the other day in my dad’s store. It’s apparently a pill that’s quite good for increasing your cultivation, but it’s hard to get, and only a desperate idiot would take it.” Delworth nodded in agreement.
Marcus flinched back as he noticed the glare from the leather-bound man. “Watch what you say, twerp. I’m going easy on you.”
Ah, the Collar gang. Why am I not surprised? I wonder how Marcus’ dad is doing. I’ll have to ask him when this farce is done.
“It was self-defence,” he glanced at John, “I didn’t attack you,” Hector said, resting the Farmhand down on the floor. Thankfully, this time it was relatively clean. He stepped in front of the leather-bound man. “We’re paying you. So you can get lost or…” Hector threw a gaze at John.
“You got a big mouth twerp,” the leather-bound man said, cracking his knuckles. He threw a quick look at John. Wetting his lips. “You attacked someone, under my protection, and that won’t slide. He tells me you’re a cultivator. So how about a spar? You win. We get out of your way. But if I win, you leave all your valuables behind.”
Ah crap, we are carrying the loot from the festival. Dammit. But you know what? It should be fine. I’ll just…
“The ladies can’t fight,” the leather-bound man said, interrupting Hector’s thoughts. “I’m a gentleman, you see.”
Hector resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Did he take them for fools? He just didn’t want to get stomped out by Emela or Nyx. Coward.
“Alright,” Hector said, shaking his head. He dusted off his hands—not that they were really dirty and gestured to the side. “I don’t mind. It’s just a spar. As long as you stick to your word, that is.”
The leather-bound man and John shared a glance. “Don’t worry, I’m well-respected and a man of my word.” Sniggers erupted from his men. “Shut it, you idiots. You wouldn’t recognise class if it hit you over the head.”
The man waved a bejewelled hand dismissively and followed Hector into an open space. They stopped a few feet from the group, facing each other.
“So any rules for this spar?” Hector asked.
“I’d imagine no weapons since it is only a spar,” Emela said, stepping in between Jodie and Lincoln. A window in one of the houses that made up this back, street slammed shut. Emela didn’t blink. “But that’s just a suggestion.”
“No. Nothing like that,” the man said. He gave her a strained smile before turning back to Hector. “All I ask is that no one else gets involved. We wouldn’t want this turning into an all-out brawl.” He gave Hector a toothy smile.
“What’s wrong with him?” Delworth asked Marcus.
Marcus shrugged, glancing from Emela to the man.
“I’m game,” Hector said. The man was up to something, but whatever it was, Hector was pretty sure he could handle it.
If he plans to ambush me with another wooden stick. He will be in for a rude awakening. I should have kept the stick I used on those other guys. Damn.
“So,” the man said, combing his fingers through his short brown hair. “Are you ready to get this show on the road?”
I should feel him out first. If this guy is or was a mercenary, he’s not going to be easy to deal with. Especially given I’m a minor realm in cultivation behind. So a warm-up it is.
“More than ready,” Hector said, dragging his tongue across his bottom lip.
A subtle breeze blew through, ruffling their clothes, and when it stopped, the two of them cracked forward like a whip, kicking up loose chunks of stone.
Hector threw two quick jabs, one at the gut. Blocked. And one at the liver. Blocked. The man smiled, snapping a fist towards Hector’s side.
It was a feint. No point blocking, Hector could practically smell him gearing up for the second one. He took a step back, sucking in his stomach, eyeing the man’s other fist. Which proved to be wise.
It whistled forward. Hector ducked underneath the blow. He stepped forward, jerking away from the man’s elbow, arriving at his side. Hector jabbed a fist into the man’s rib, the blow thudding against his armour.
The man let out a roar and spun wildly. Hector jumped back. It was a good hit, but not where he’d wanted it. Just a bit lower and he would have hit the less guarded area. The man seemed to know this.
“You’re good,” he snarled.
And you aren’t nearly as tough as I thought.
Hector darted forward, sweeping under a jab and blocking a kick. He stepped back, the man raining blow after blow on Hector’s raised forearms. The fight’s intensity had increased. Hector ducked, sweeping his leg out to hook the man’s ankle.
He jumped.
Hector smiled. Power exploded through his legs. He snapped up, fist slamming straight into the man’s gut, knocking him back. But the man, not even flinching, shot back at Hector, like a boomerang. Slamming his knee forward.
Hector crossed his arm. Pain exploded like a wave of heat as he staggered back, crunching stone beneath his sandals. Even as he steadied himself, the man was at his side. He swung a jab. Hector dodged, slipping away like a hot knife through butter.
Veins on the man’s neck, black and pulsating, bulged as his eye became slightly red. Hector drew in a sharp breath. What was going on here? He’d heard of people getting too into a fight, but this was a bit too much.
His movements are becoming a lot more aggressive. A little erratic even. I should draw him in more; with that rage, I doubt he’s going to be thinking too clearly. But something is wrong; I’ll need to end this soon.
Hector shot forward, the man following suit. He swung, going high. So Hector slipped to the side, jerking out of the way as the man clawed at him. He drew a sharp breath and channelled the Orion Fist technique.
Fist after fist rained down onto the man’s shoulder, back, and rib, peppering it with low thuds. The leather blocked most of them, but not all. The man let out a roar, slipping past one of Hector’s blows.
He slammed forward with his shoulder.
Pain exploded through Hector’s chest. His feet left the floor, then air was forced out of his lungs as he smacked his back onto the cobblestone. He’d perhaps drawn him in a bit too close.
The man let out a roar. Saliva trickled from the side of his mouth as his head snapped down and his eyes locked onto Hector.
“He hasn’t fully digested the pills,” a voice mumbled from the side. Hector couldn’t spare the time to see who had said that—and it didn’t really matter.
Hector resisted the urge to laugh. It made sense why Marcus said they were desperate idiots.
Hector jumped to his feet and leapt to the side, slamming onto his shoulder as he rolled out of the way. The leather-bound man tore past, skidding to a stop and charging at him again.
The air whistled as his hand swiped by Hector’s head. The man’s fist shot forward and slammed straight into Hector’s gut. But the expected pain didn’t come. Instead, a tug pulled at the back of Hector’s mind. [Hearty Body] had activated.
Leaping back, narrowly evading a grab for his throat, Hector skidded across the stone. Watching as a cruel smile spread across the leather-bound man’s lips. His hand slipped to a holster at his side and, with a click, he pulled free a small knife.
Well, I can’t say I’m too surprised. Though, this gives me a way to end things quickly.
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