I braced for an initial strike, prepared to rotate my body to catch the first tentacle that tested my defenses. My feet moved in a tight circle but my eyes kept gravitating back to where the red eyes had blared through the darkness.

  “Where is it Charles?” I bellowed into the darkness. “Where’s the punch that will make me fear you?”

  “Fifty-thousand XP.”

  The words echoed through the black with a low growl. My head swiveled in all directions before I saw a slight movement in the corner of my eye. I forced my body around in time to feel a fist smash against my crossed forearms. It was a solid strike, but I had blocked it with perfect form. My brain was preparing the counter attack to punish the aggression.

  But, if that were true, then why was I flying backwards from the force?

  Though it felt like a textbook block, the power behind it was far beyond what I had expected. My feet were pushed backwards, catching a tentacle that took me off balance and allowing the follow-through to send me careening away.

  I opened my wings to use them like parachutes on a dragster, but the tentacles reached out and grabbed onto me. As I ripped the tentacles off of me, I could hear Charles’ voice from above me.

  “One-hundred thousand XP.”

  A drop kick strong enough to make you vomit on command connected with my ribcage like a speed date with a howitzer. Pain like a gunshot wound filled my chest and a squirt of blood shot out of my mouth like watery ketchup.

  I was driven into the ground. The black surface gave way and cratered before the tentacles shot me back up like a trampoline. Just in time too.

  “One-hundred thousand XP.”

  I threw my arms up over my face to protect my head while an absolute spine breaker struck me squarely in the back. A grunt left my body and I was sent rocketing forward again.

  This time, I was more prepared. My wings opened instantly and I shot my [Draconic Breath] in all directions. The tentacles withered and died while another crop quickly rose up to take its place.

  It was all the time I needed to make a clean landing. I pointed my mouth downwards and spewed the caustic smoke incessantly. The tentacles were dying faster than they were regenerating and I was assuredly keeping Charles at bay.

  “Two-hundred and fifty thousand XP.”

  I was wrong. I had, in fact, judged Charles incorrectly. He stepped into my spray without a concern. Even his suit, singed by acid, repaired itself rapidly.

  It was still bizarre, the punch was not thrown well. It’s what I imagined someone with a PhD in theoretical boxing would throw. Not even Trevor, the soft-armed pussy that he was, would dare show me this form.

  But, all that said, this punch was far worse than the other ones. I could feel my bones fight against disintegration. The strike rattled my entire body and I had to lower my center of gravity as much as possible to avoid getting blown away again. My feet clenched as much of the inky world as possible. I could feel mana scraping under my nails.

  “Two-hundred and fifty thousand XP.”

  Another one, connecting directly on my elbow. My arm went numb, turning into a ghost of itself. Fortunately, I had fought with uncooperative limbs before. They were unwieldy, like steering a houseboat, but you could still make them listen.

  I threw a return punch directly at Charles’ head. I couldn’t be the only one being tossed around. Terry and those boys would never let me hear the end of it.

  “One-hundred fifty thousand XP”

  My punch struck him dead center. I felt a magical wall meet my hand at the point of impact; like punching glass that was as strong as brick.

  But, it was not strong enough. This time, it was Charles’ turn to have his eyes go wide as he was forced off of his feet and sent backwards. Only difference was that the tentacles caught him and brought him back down to his feet while the rest tried to block my way.

  They did not do much to stop me. I had already learned that they were too frail, like using pool noodles to stop a rampaging bull. One breath of poison and a long stride was all I needed to get through the magic protection and start a running punch directly into Charles. I grinned ready to smash him in the face; deliver the brutalist message that I imagine that all of his hired muscle wanted to say so many times in the past.

  “Five-hundred thousand XP.”

  My punch, the work of art that it was, affected Charles no more than if he were pawed by a cat. I hit his snout with a marshmallow. And he decided to respond with an RPG.

  “Three-hundred thousand XP.”

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  My nullified masterpiece was countered with the martial arts version of a graffiti dick. And, frustratingly, had the feeling of being run down by a freight train. My defense was broken for a second, allowing one sneak punch to get in before I lowered my arms enough to block it completely.

  “One million XP.”

  A punch hard enough to knock the enamel off your teeth hit me in the sternum. I could hear it shatter like a dropped vase as the air was pushed so far out of my lungs that they forgot the very concept of breathing. Only my immense defense stat prevented me from being turned into a Mortal Kombat fatality.

  But, that excruciating punch made me fully understand the gimmick behind Charles’ powers. I was watching the MMA equivalent of someone swiping their credit card mid fight to buy brass knuckles and a Kevlar vest.

  “Are you spending your fortune to defeat me?” I asked with a grin. “I’ll have to keep track of how much beating me was worth.”

  “You will work to pay me back,’ Charles replied. “Every. Single. Point.”

  “Not with punches like that,” I continued to goad. “Why is it that you are relying on physical combat? Are you trying to dominate me at my own game?”

  “Ten million XP.”

  I dutifully raised my arms up in his general direction that was going to make my arms feel like they were going to be dipped in battery acid and then tossed in the dryer. I braced myself for impact, thinking of only blocking this yacht’s worth of XP.

  It did not come. My eyes peered through the gap in my forearms, but did not see Charles there. I rotated around to ensure that I wouldn’t get bisected from a liver punch.

  A bright light appeared overhead and seared my eyeballs like I walked out of a cave on the sun. My eyes watered and something in my subconscious made me hiss, splattering acidic saliva in every direction.

  After blinking a couple times, I could see a massive white orb sitting high in the sky above me as though someone filled the moon with lightbulbs. With this light, I quickly looked around and saw Charles standing amongst a mass of dancing tentacles. He raised his hands and a forest of inky octopus arms shot up all around me in an attempt to tie me up.

  I put all of my points in speed and exited that cluster with a puff of smoke. A pair of rockets strapped to my ankles, I covered the distance between me and Charles in a blink.

  He did not seem concerned.

  “Moonbeam.”

  I did not know what it meant to be an ant beneath a magnifying glass. I did not know what it meant to be cooked underneath the concentrated light of the sun; to have your insides boil and your skin crack open as the juices of your cooked flesh spilled out.

  That was until today.

  The pain was incomprehensible. My nerve endings died long before the full impact could be recognized. I felt my eyes burn shut as I had managed to close them in time to avoid them boiling. I had to force them open with my hands; my left hand as I no longer could feel my right. My fused eyelids ripped, making it impossible to blink for now.

  It felt like I was still standing. I couldn’t tell yet. My eyes were not spared the one million x-rays of power that struck it. Large patches of blur crossed my vision as though I were looking through a distortion lens.

  I saw Charles approach me. I lifted my arms in preparation to block to see that my right arm only reached the elbow.

  “Why did they make you a lizard?” Charles said, his voice muffled in my damaged ears. “It seems more fitting that they should have made you a cockroach. King of the cockroaches! How is it that you live?”

  [Too Angry to Die] had activated, leaving me with around thirty more seconds to find health before I became mulch in Charles’ garden. There was only one place I could get health from, so I lumbered towards Charles with my arms not fully blocking my face.

  “Why does it matter?” I asked, my arm reaching out to grip him on the shoulder. “Just finish me.”

  “Ten million XP! Moonbeam!” Charles shouted.

  I was leftovers tossed in a microwave. I spread my wings, allowing them to melt under the radioactive sun to spare the rest of my body. My legs burned, the flesh threatened to fall of the bone like a slow cooked brisket. The bottoms of my feet tried to fuse to the ground but a sharp step upwards left what anchored me behind. Bloody footsteps followed my march.

  But, you could not subtract anything from zero. Worse my condition might be, but, in the eyes of this gamified world, it did not matter. My condition was exactly the same.

  I could see Charles’ eyebrow raise in surprise now that the timer of [Too Angry to Die] was over halfway completed.

  “Are you sure that it was ten million?” I goaded, my blood spilling in all directions. “I would ask for a refund if I were you.”

  “Twenty five million seven hundred and twenty eight thousand four hundred and sixty seven XP!”

  A punch that would shift tectonic plates hit me center mass. My flesh, strong as it may be, was not strong enough to withstand the forces inflicted on it. My scales ripped like a paper plate. My bones were turned to dust and Charles’ fist erupted from the other side.

  I fell forwards, my body going nearly chest to chest with Charles. Now, my teeth were right next to his flesh. I flashed a smile at him, my eyes still vibrant as the timer still hadn’t wound down.

  “Just die, you pest! You’re supposed to be dead!”

  Ah, I understood now.

  “The timer grows with level,” I whispered, laughing as I bit down sharply on him. Blood spilled out of my mouth. “I don’t know what G?lge told you, but he was wrong. You should have just spent it all at once. A fifty million XP moonbeam might have disintegrated me.”

  “I knew you were all incompetent,” Charles hissed. “Why did I think it would be different here? I will not be killed over a failure!”

  He tried to push himself away from me. He knew there were only a few seconds left before the timer ran out. Just one more strong attack. Just one heavy punch to the skull and it would undo the health I just regained.

  He threw a punch. It felt like bumping your head on a cabinet door. Annoying, but not nearly enough to finish the job.

  Only now, stripped of his liquidity did Charles look weak; weaker than Squealer. Born with money. Lived with money. Died with money. There was nothing that he couldn’t obtain as long as the check was large enough.

  But now the check had bounced.

  “No, Charles,” I replied. “You died because you never learned how to fight. You could have killed me ten times over if you had done any training.”

  “Maybe you could teach me how to,” Charles replied. “I would like to open up negotiations.”

  “Too late.”

  I pulled my left fist back and threw it forward and full power. His skull shattered on impact and he fell to his knees. His arm bent, keeping the limb jammed into my stomach and stopping the bleeding. I would still need to use an entire hospital’s medical cabinet of potions to close them up.

  The moon overhead cracked and fell down to the earth like irradiated snow. The darkness lifted, leaving me in a sterile white room and a single portal on the ground that would hopefully take me back.

  “Come on, Charles,” I said to the corpse, dragging it to the portal. “Now, it’s time to talk business.”