July part two

"So, the RedCage... is it some kind of underground fighting ring?" I asked.

The name said it all. A fighting cage. The "red" part was probably because it got drenched in the blood of its participants—how original, I thought sarcastically.

"Exactly," Santos confirmed. "You'd be perfect for it. Just a regular human. No one will bet on you."

"Exactly. So, what do you say?" the Empress asked.

"Oh yeah! Uncle Jason is gonna turn them into mush!" Rick said excitedly.

"Hold on, Rick. Don’t speak for me. What do I get out of this?"

This whole situation smelled fishy.

"What every man desires. Bring them in."

As if she had them prepared, a group of women entered the room. Probably gorgeous and naked, but I didn’t even bother to look. I wasn’t about to be swayed by such childish temptations. It had happened before, and I paid the price. It wasn’t happening again.

My nephews, on the other hand, turned their heads immediately, screaming in excitement. I grabbed them and forced them to get a grip. Sorry, boys, but in this life, you won’t get to enjoy this. What a shame.

"Not interested." I stared directly at the Empress.

"Ara, that usually works on men. So, what is it that you want?"

"I know what he wants," Santos interrupted. "To continue his journey."

"Exactly. And in peace, without any interruptions," I clarified, making sure they knew I wasn’t planning on sticking around.

"Then I have an idea. Kazu can take you in his van to a nearby branch—we have one on the way to the direction you were going. You’ll also get whatever gear and supplies you need to help you out," the Empress offered.

"And in exchange?" I asked, knowing nothing came for free.

"Your services in the RedCage for two weeks."-she said directly to me.

Two weeks wasn’t much. There wasn’t much journey left, and the deal was tempting. A two-week break would do my boys some good. But the real problem was the environment.

"I don’t want any disgusting ultramutant out there laying a finger on my nephews, and I don’t want their minds corrupted by the atrocities of this place. And just so you know, what you do here disgusts me. Under normal circumstances, I’d have killed every last one of you," I said, forming a gun with my fingers and pointing at Santos, then at the Empress. "But hell, with the world ending, I’m willing to make a deal with the devil if it means getting these kids to their mother as fast as possible."

"Santos will watch over them at all times. You know how strong he is."

Actually, no. To me, he was just some drunk lunatic from the corner. But I couldn’t deny the mystery surrounding his power or the fact that he had taken down the Sandman.

"Yeah, buddy. I promise. I’ll protect your little nephews."

"And how do I know that’s true? I don’t even trust this guy."

"Then how about this?" The Empress smirked. "I’ll stay with you the whole time—no bodyguards, and you’ll have your weapons. The moment you think I’ve betrayed you or harmed your nephews in any way, I’m all yours to kill. I’m just a human, after all. You could wipe out this entire organization with a single bullet."

My ears couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I looked at Santos, and he nodded.

"The Empress always means what she says."

"Well then," the Empress clapped her hands. "We’ll get you ready for your fight. I’ll take you to your room, and Santos will watch over your nephews."

"Count me in. Let’s go, kids! We’ve got video games and junk food. Everything children love—or at least, used to," Santos said, grabbing my nephews, who looked at me, smiling in support of my decision.

With that settled, the Empress led me to a room. A large, luxurious bed sat at its center, surrounded by extravagant accessories.

"This is my room?" I asked, unable to believe I’d be living like a king.

"Mine. Or rather, ours for the next two weeks. Here, put this on," she said, tossing me a set of dark clothes. "You wouldn’t want your usual outfit getting soaked in blood, would you? Besides, a change would do you good."

"I’m used to it," I muttered as I started changing but then hesitated. "Uh... could you turn around?"

"Ju-ju, don’t play innocent. But fine."

She turned around, and I continued changing.

"Seriously, what the hell is this place? With the world ending, shouldn’t people be doing something more important?" I asked aloud.

"The real question is, why shouldn’t they be here? With the end of the world, people’s deepest, most primal desires come to the surface. That’s why they come here. We’re their only source of satisfaction."

"And what do you get out of this?"

"Living comfortably until the end of my days. Like really, how many is left, five months? Life was rough after the ultramutant crisis. My son and I were merchants—nothing illegal, of course, at least not yet. But when people started looting, they didn’t care about trade anymore. Then, the ultramutant who declared the end of humanity showed up. Only God knows who he is but thanks to him, people lost it, and chaos got worse. That’s when they needed structure again. I took advantage of the lawlessness and used my old contacts to build a paradise in hell—Paradise Castle."

"But how did you organize them?"

"Santos. He’s a real monster. I don’t know how or why, but he subdued powerful ultramutants to work for us. Anyone who steps out of line becomes their prey. That’s how we forced some civility—if they wanted to enjoy their last days, they had no choice."

"They don’t seem very civilized to me."

I looked outside how they were the same monster as always, or even worse.

"Who cares? In exchange, they give me everything you see—food, clothes, luxury goods, and more."

She looked around with greed eyes.

"And what happened to your husband?"

"Who knows? He couldn’t handle it and turned into an ultra, lost his mind, and ran off. Maybe he’s one of my customers now—I don’t keep track of my clients anymore. Why, are you interested?" she asked seductively, turning to look at me now that I was dressed.

"No, just curious. So, what exactly is this RedCage?"

"Oh, nothing special. Just simple fights between ultramutants. People love it and place bets. Sometimes, we do deathmatches where anything goes—powers, weapons. Other times, standard fights, hand-to-hand, no killing."

"And which one will I be in?" I had a bad feeling about this.

"The lethal ones, obviously. But don’t worry. If Santos says you’re ready, then you are. Shall we go?"

"Yeah."

I didn’t hesitate and accepted the situation. As long as they let me use my revolvers, anything seemed possible. My whole life, I’d been close to death, but somehow, I always survived. What harm could a few more fights against nobodies do?

"Your opponent will be Charlton—a maniac with knives sprouting from all over his body. He’s one of the top-ranked fighters, and all bets are in his favor," she said as we walked down a hallway.

"So, I can use my guns?" I asked to confirm.

"Of course. The ultras will give any advantage to a normal human because, to them, it's like fighting an ant. What can an ant do with a tiny weapon?"

"The difference is, I know how to use mine," I said confidently, spinning my revolvers like an old-school gunslinger.

We reached a small door. Behind it, a staircase led underground. The path was dark, but the Empress knew exactly where to go. When we reached the bottom, I saw them—disgusting ultramutants, screaming and drinking like beasts around a cage where two fighters battled to the death. The fight ended with the winner ripping off his opponent’s head. A single misstep, and I could end up just like that.

"Well, it’s your turn. This is where I leave you. Don’t worry—we’ll see each other again soon. Good luck," she said, taking a drag from her pipe, her deep eyes locked onto mine.

I walked into the cage slowly, observing the judging stares around me. At the same time, a pretty girl in a suit was introducing me with her voice. She didn’t even need a microphone for some reason—probably an ultra with a powerful voice.

"And in the maroon corner, we have the newcomer!!!" she began shouting with her deafening voice. "A plain and ordinary man, coming from the far side of the country with nothing but his two revolvers!!! Jason Carson, the Normal!!!"

That last part was unnecessary.

The degenerates wasted no time in questioning me and throwing trash in my direction.

"Get out of there! This isn't a place for humans!!!"
"Heh, this bet is way too easy."
"I hope you have a bloody and painful death!!!"

I ignored the voices. I focused on doing what I do best—shutting people up.

"And in the red corner, we have the great favorite to become the next champion!! Charlton Knives!!! The ultra-slasher who feeds on his opponent's blood after every fight!!!"

As soon as the announcer finished, a man covered in scars entered the cage with excitement, multiple knives protruding from small openings in his arms.

"Yesss, I'm here to claim my new prey. Wait… this smell!" He sniffed the air around me as he approached, his beastly demeanor momentarily fading. "A human. Tch, your blood is disgusting and sour."

"Well, sorry to disappoint you for not turning into an atrocity like you," I said smugly.

"WHAT?!!!" he roared, a new knife emerging from his forehead like a unicorn's horn.

"It looks like the fight is already heating up!!" the announcer declared. "Let’s paint this place red!!!"

The bell rang.

"This is going to be boring. I'll give you a five-minute head start," Charlton said, distractedly staring at the ceiling.

"How generous," I replied, drawing my revolvers and firing as I ran in circles around him.

"Haha, simple bullets won't do you any good!!!" he laughed maniacally.

He started slicing my bullets in half with his knives. As he did, saliva dripped from his mouth, but his grin suddenly faded.

"Where are you?" he asked, desperate.

"Bang."

A bullet pierced through his head, and he collapsed, blood spilling everywhere. As he fell, I appeared behind him, holstering my revolver after blowing the smoke from its barrel. As I always say, no matter if your have powers, you are nothing against a bullet in the head.

"Sorry, I gave you another hole."

"We… we have a winner!!! Jason Carson!!! The Gunslinger!!!"

The crowd erupted in boos, cursing their lost money. But I didn’t care. My focus was on a balcony in the distance where my nephews were shouting my name with excitement.

I gave them a thumbs-up and smiled.

I left the arena and returned to the Empress’s room to change. After a while, she entered.

"Quite a show you put on out there," she said as she approached, placing a hand on my chest.

"I hope so, but it ended too quickly for the public," I replied, slightly uncomfortable with the situation. "So, did I surprise you?"

"More than that."

She moved closer and pressed her lips against mine. My eyes widened in surprise, but my body didn’t resist. What was this situation? I couldn’t believe it. I had been with women younger than me before, but never an older woman—this one was at least ten years older.

We kept kissing, and my body moved on its own. What did it matter if I slept with an old witch? It was the end of the world.

I grabbed her waist and pushed her onto the bed.

And so, the night passed.

I woke up in the morning and stared out the window.

"Good morning," the Empress said, sitting up, her body covered by blankets.

She took a cigarette from my pack and started smoking.

"Hope you don’t mind," she said sweetly.

"It’s fine," I said after a brief moment of thought. "But seriously, what was last night about?"

"A woman has her needs. I simply saw an attractive human and thought, why not? I would never let a filthy ultra touch my body—there are so few like you left."

"Yeah, you’re right."

I thought about Valerie and remembered why I had liked her so much. She wasn’t an ultra. Too bad I hadn’t known she had a boyfriend—and that he was an ultra. But with this woman, I felt nothing close to what I had felt for Valerie.

"You never told me your name. I’m tired of calling you Empress."

"Aoi. You’re lucky, not many people know it," she said, blowing out a puff of smoke.

And that’s how I got to know the queen of this place—her true, disgusting self.