The Last Arrival

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I was surrounded on all sides, my back against the wall.

The air was damp in the heart of the rainy season, and my tattered uniform jacket stuck to sweat on the back of my neck. Now normally, I would never be one to panic when faced with overwhelming odds in a fight. As long as I could ensure an escape route in case things went south, it would typically work out in my favor. However…

“Why don’t you get on your knees and start begging now, and we’ll make it as quick as possible, eh otherworlder?”

The leader of a particularly nasty group of orcs in the city had been fixated on me for a while. To him, I was an obstacle on his rise to the top, just another guy to beat amongst all the other gutter rats with a mean scowl and a little muscle. And yet… Today’s unfortunate meeting felt a little too personal for my taste.

I didn’t even lay my head down in the same district as this guy, mind you, nor did I really have any place to call “home” for that matter. Not since I was thrust into this godforsaken world. But my reputation as a brawler had clearly preceded me if I was known outside beggar’s alley. Street violence had a funny way of evolving into something like folklore once a rumor began to swirl.

Up until now I had considered the possibility of a momentary truce with the towering brutes in front of me, but things didn’t appear to be moving in that direction.

“If you think you’re game, why not fight me one-on-one? Or are you too scared, pigface?” It seemed like a bit of thoughtless banter, but in truth, I was feeling out how desperate he might be to give in to my provocations and throw the first punch.

“Tch.” I clicked my tongue in frustration.

To my surprise, he didn’t budge. Unfortunately for me, it would not be so easy to coax him into a careless mistake. Not when he had the benefit of a six-to-one numbers advantage in the situation. In a strange way, I was impressed that his wits had exceeded my expectations. However, this had grown into a bit of a predicament.

This sure ain’t gonna be easy, but I wouldn’t have let myself get cornered like this if I didn’t have a plan.

I briefly thought of the circumstances that led me to this back alley scrum. The more I continued to fight for my own survival in this city, the more often people would come challenge me. The vicious cycle continued day-after-day, and I hadn’t a soul to turn to outside of myself. To survive, or to die trying, that was all up to me.

Things were much the same back on Earth too, come to think of it…

“Heheheh… I knew you were a funny guy, but hells, the balls on you! I guess it wasn’t a total waste of time to pay you a visit here, after all. I’d be pretty damn bored if you were pissing yourself in a corner somewhere.” The leader of the bunch, known by many as Khorag the Cruel, stared me down with a murderous glint in his eyes. “But you know…”

The imposing orc grinned widely with his tusk-filled mouth, his long oily hair was slicked back in a ponytail behind his fat, green neck. I heard the stories, and for the most part they were true. The bastard was built like an active volcano with an even worse temperament.

Without warning, he jammed his fist into my abdomen. The force of his punch–despite coming from just an inch away–knocked the wind clean out of me. I had foreseen a dirty move like this coming, of course, but there was little I could do but wait.

“I respect your spirit, boy, I do. But disrespecting the Irontusk Orcs ain’t so easily forgiven, understand? Teach him good, men.” Khorag waved his hand, and took a few steps back. His leather coat fluttered with his movement.

Before I had even recovered from his punch, I was being mercilessly beaten into the ground. Fists and elbows, knees and whatever else. It was nearly impossible to tell what I was being struck with as Khorag’s lackeys all got a cheap-shot in. Their leader simply watched the spectacle with a grin on his face.

“C’mon, “otherworlder”, throw out some of that fancy magic already!”

“Hah! You know he can’t do that, or else he’d be in the academy with all them other freaks! Ain’t that right, liar!?”

I endured their insults with gritted teeth.

“‘Kay that’s enough.” Khorag finally signaled for them to stop wailing on me, but not out of mercy, I would presume. “For such a scrawny punk, you sure can take a hit.”

He leaned forward in a mocking fashion, the smug look remaining on his face. I could see the scar across the bridge of his nose from this distance, a sign of past battles. I was currently in a great deal of pain, but I wasn’t going to let him know that.

“Maybe it’s that none of you can dish out a hit! You ever think of that, jackass!?” I coughed through my retort. “Bunch of adults got nothing better to do than gang up on a school kid, what happened to a warrior’s shame?”

“Oho? What you said just then is pretty funny,” He stepped a bit closer. “If you want to be the best, then you have to fight the best. Don’t pull the youth card after you get stomped, kiddo.”

He shook his head, clearly disappointed in my reasoning. From my knees, I continued to glare up at Khorag and waited for him to walk carelessly within striking distance. That would be the opening I was waiting for.

One step. Two steps. Now!

“And to think, I expected much more from Ren, the Liar of Beggar’s–AUGH!” In one swift motion, I launched myself into an uppercut. It connected with devastating force as I drove my middle knuckle into Khorag’s Adam's Apple.

Despite his superior size, he writhed on the ground in pain, unable to properly bark out an order. The others must have sensed the tide was turning in the battle by their looks of surprise, but I just was barely getting started with the celebration. This was the party they planned so carefully, after all.

I ducked a strike from the first of his goons to come to their senses, a lanky sort with a shaved head and piercings. I made exceedingly quick work of him with two jabs into his chest, and proceeded to kick him into a slightly smaller friend of his.

Maybe it was the fire in my emerald eyes, or perhaps the twisted smile on my face, but the bulk of them turned tail as quickly as they had descended upon me. They ran like their orc mothers had called them home early for dinner, leaving only their hapless leader at my mercy.

Some real friends you got there, eh pigface? What to do now though, I wonder?

“Why don’t you just…. DIE!!” I had lost focus for only a second, but Khorag sprang to his feet holding something close to his chest. He charged at me with the gleaming object, and my survival instincts immediately kicked in.

That’s a—!

The dagger he held avoided piercing my gut by only a few centimeters.

“Oraaaa!!” As I sidestepped his thrust, I kicked off the wall of the building to my left to account for the height difference, spinning into a kick aimed at the back of his head.

A direct hit. He rolled twice and landed amongst the garbage in the alleyway, totally unconscious. I had won.

“Fucking bastard, that was way too close…” I held my hand to my chest as I thought about what might have happened if my instincts had failed me in the previous moment.

Life and death were always a matter of the knife’s edge, a game of chance and survival, that’s just how things were in the Adventurer’s City of Redrook.

“Oh, yeah…”

Before I could forget, I searched Khorag’s body and took half—but only half—of his goods. It wouldn’t have been unusual for the victor to take all the spoils in this situation, but I had a personal code to keep to and even Khorag has got to eat—fat as he was, he did plenty of it.

For good measure, I swiped his dagger and cut off his ponytail as proof of his defeat. I would have to take them to the adventurer’s guild and collect the reward later, since I seemed to remember someone putting up a bounty for a fighter to teach ole pigface a lesson. But still…

“For a bandit leader, you sure didn’t have much on you…” I groaned, finally stepping out of the alleyway into the warm light of the Market District. I flipped my snow-white hair out of my eyes as I took a deep breath.

It was as busy as ever, and humans and demi-humans alike continued to push past me like I wasn’t there, despite my being caked with a mixture of dry blood and dirt. While mildly irritated, I felt no reason to completely lash out at them for avoiding me. Their indifference was well within my expectations. The reason for that was simple, it was because…

I’m an otherworlder.

Simply put, someone from Earth—who had ended up in the World of Kai by some unknown means. Before the last few weeks, I had simply been Itsuka Ren, juvenile delinquent and part-time student from Hachioji, but I had somehow fallen farther down the social ladder in my short time here.

Among all otherworlders, no one seemed to remember the immediate circumstances surrounding their arrival—including myself—despite retaining all of our memories before that point. But simply being an otherworlder isn’t what earned me the disdain of the general public, and the title of Ren, the Liar of Beggar’s Alley.

I stared at the palm of my hand, a look of contempt on my face. As far as I knew, I was the last otherworlder to arrive from Earth by well over a year’s time, and the only one without any sort of special ability. Due to that fact, otherworlders and the denizens of this world similarly ignored my presence, or called me a liar or some kind of attention-starved lunatic.

I wasn’t allowed admission into the Institute for Practical Magic with all my Earth-bound peers, and my lack of knowledge of this world led me to some pretty desperate places that would make an alley cat blush, but I made a point never to pick on or take from those weaker than me... That quality about me had never once changed.

I wonder what that old geezer of mine would think if he saw me like this?

I shook my head. There was no use in thinking about my bastard father at a time like this. It wasn’t like I was ever going to see him again, in any case, and there was plenty more to do today with the sun high in the sky. I nodded with a resigned smile, and began the long walk to the Adventurer’s Guild with only a tiny bit of a limp.