A Contest

After more than a week of impatiently waiting, the day finally came. Before it, I had attended work every day, but my mind was always drifting off to the subject of the tournament. And, by extension, my return home. Kin would periodically appear and disappear, though I didn’t quite know how to feel about him. On the one hand, he was an annoying little pest who persistently nagged me with off-topic questions, but he was also someone who I could rant off to when Martha was preoccupied with her own tasks. And Kin would listen most of the time, even though he probably didn’t have anything else to do, really. When he departed off to drain some poor animal of its energy, the room sometimes felt a little lacking. Which was nice for the most part, since I could finally do whatever I needed to without some voice distracting me, but it also made my work seem a bit empty.

Luckily, Kin wasn’t the only person I could talk to at the Oasis. Martha was the same as always, and as the day of the tournament drew closer, I couldn’t help but talk more about my world, since the prospect of returning was now actually in sight. And since basically anything involving magic intrigued Martha, she’d listen to me go on and on without complaining. Of the others, I’d say Connor was probably my favorite to talk to, since he usually carried the entire conversation himself and I didn’t really have to do anything. Chris held a moderately more important role in managing the restaurant than the rest of us, so he’d sometimes have to leave some extra work to us while he went to resolve some other things. But I could tell from my instincts that he was a sincere person with nothing to hide, which allowed me to lower my guard a bit when I was around him. As for my relationship with Jasmine… I couldn’t say that anything had really changed. We both kind of just kept on avoiding each other as much as we could.

When the Sunday of the tournament came, we decided on a meeting spot in the Oasis’ open area in the back. To my surprise, Jasmine actually showed up, though it might just have been Connor pressuring her into doing so. Connor himself stood next to her, doing some ridiculous warm-ups that managed to draw a smile out of her, while Chris had parked a different car on the tiled ground, this one apparently his own. Martha really just came to support me, but was also fairly interested in how Connor and Chris would fare.

Forcing open the small metal gate in the back, Chris made it so that the car could actually back out of the backyard. The car itself wasn’t small, but the fact that five people were crammed into it made the space feel considerably packed. Kin also tagged along in the back, but didn’t really say much during the ride. It might have been because, like me, the strange human buildings of this world attracted his attention as they hypnotically whizzed past the car window.

We arrived at large tent-like structure, which was seemingly put up just for the purpose of this event. As I stepped out from the car into the glaring sun, I was thankful for the shade the top of the tent provided. Chris walked off to handle signing us in at the reception, which left the rest of us waiting on a large dusty area crowded with people.

“There’s more people here than I expected,” Martha said, shielding her eyes from the sun.

“You think so?” Connor looked around. “It was about the same last time. Maybe even a little more.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yep,” Connor gave a nod.

So, this event actually is popular? I thought he might have just made that up to justifying him coming to some obscure tournament. I grimaced at the almost suffocating chatter of people from all directions. Yeah. Guess I was wrong.

“Hey, guys! I got the sheet with all the events on it.” Chris waved at us, walking back from the reception. We crowded around the piece of paper he held in his hands. On it, a list of rounds spanned across both sides.

“These are all the preliminary rounds,” he explained, tracing the words on the sheet with his index finger. He then waggled his phone. “After you complete a match, you have to report back to the reception. They’ll match you up with your next opponent after that. I wrote down my phone number at the reception, so they’ll just text me directly.”

“Hey, are these matches best of three, or…” Martha tilted her head sideways.

“Nope. You only get one chance. Single-match.” Shaking his head, Connor tucked his hands into his pockets.

“Ah. That’s harsh,” she responded, making a face.

“Well, they do need to speed things along one way or another.” Chris gestured at the crowd. “I mean, look at all these people.”

I leaned in for a closer look, scanning the paper. Oh. There it is.

(Donnelius Conqaide – Hubert White, 2:35)

Wait… I narrowed my eyes, before looking up. “How’d you fill out my full name? Don’t think I’ve ever told it to you.”

“Asked Chris for it, from your orientation papers at the Oasis. Quite the detective, aren’t I?” Connor grinned. “Nice name, by the way. Exotic.”

I unconsciously released my breath. For a second, I’d thought that perhaps someone had discovered my location, somehow. Maybe all this peace is getting to me.

“My match is at one-thirty, and yours is at two-fifteen,” Connor read off the paper to Chris.

“I guess we should go check out the place, huh?” Chris folded the piece of paper, and inserted it into his back pocket.

“Alright!” I made a fist with my right hand. “Where’s my opponent? I’m ready to win.”

“Idiot,” Kin droned from above, and I turned sharply. Due to him being unusually quiet during the car ride, I had almost forgotten he was there. “Didn’t you read the paper? Your match starts at around two thirty. That’s in, like, three hours.”

Three hours? The hell am I supposed to do in that time? I slumped downwards, and once I was out of earshot of the others, turned to Kin. “I don’t care whether you want to stay here or not, but can you stay out of my way during the matches? I’ve actually got something at stake here.”

“Sure, sure. Heck, I’ll do better than just stay out of your way.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re gonna be preoccupied during your little games, aren’t you?” Kin smiled wryly. “In that case, why don’t I volunteer to keep watch for danger? You wouldn’t want anything to happen to those delicate, fragile humans… or that girl of yours, would you?”

My eyes pierced into Kin’s. “Her name is Martha.”

“Oh, is that so?” Kin feigned surprise, a vicious gleam in his eyes. “My bad, my bad. I’ll take note of that in the future.” He gave a quick salute, and darted upwards into the air. “Well, I’m sure you want to be rid of me as soon as possible, so I’ll be off now.”

With that, Kin imploded into a burst of flames, and was gone. I sighed, and started towards the rest of the group, who had followed Chris into the tent.

Within the giant tent, a series of long tables were set up in the middle, with harsh electric lights providing illumination to the otherwise dark indoor area. There were people sitting on the ground on either side, apparently waiting for their match to begin. On the tables themselves sat pairs of people who hadn’t started their games yet but seemed ready to get started, as people that looked like organizers rushed around to get everything ready. Chris cleared out a little area near the middle for all of us to sit. Connor, for some convenient reason, had decided to bring two portable chairs and a large mat for us to sit on. The chairs were taken by Jasmine and Martha before I even knew it, so the rest of us were forced to sit on the mat. Martha brought a bunch of snacks, though, so I guess I could forgive her for that.

After a bit of waiting, Chris left for his match, as it was a little bit before mine or Connor’s. Jasmine went off to buy some drinks and Connor tagged along, which just left me and Martha sitting there.

“Remind me again,” Martha said, biting off the top of a chocolate snack, “how you plan on getting first place?”

“I’m going to cheat,” I smirked, raising my right arm. “And there’s no chance normal humans will be able to justify any claims that I’m cheating, since I’ll be using work energy.”

Martha stared at me with an expression of disgust. “You’re such a scumbag.”

“Oh, come on, don’t be so hard on me. Work energy is still my own individual ability, so it’s not really cheating.” I laid sprawled out on the thin mat, munching on a bag of what she had called ‘potato chips’. I found them quite addicting, actually. “Besides, I have a reason for doing this. I’m taking your feelings into consideration and doing this without illegal activities, so what other choice do I have? This is already the cleanest way to go about it.”

“It’s not so much my own feelings as I don’t want us both to be arrested,” Martha sighed, finishing her morsel of chocolate. “And, even if this method doesn’t involve anything outright illegal, I don’t know if I can wholeheartedly support this…”

“Ah. On the subject of work energy,” I said, a chip clasped between my index finger and thumb, “have you made any progress?”

“Huh? Me?” Martha didn’t seem to expect this question. “Oh, well… I’ve attempted to get it to work a few times, on and off. During breaks, and sometimes… at home, after you go to bed.” She seemed a little abashed to admit this.

“And you never got it to initiate?”

“No, never the same feeling as the first time. Even after imagining the flow of energy, like you said,” Martha said, looking downwards. “Of course, I, um… didn’t have you there to help me like the initial time.”

“Well… since you already got your work energy to flow without being in contact with me one time, your body should have the ability to generate that magic by itself.” I bit into the chip, and it broke with a satisfying crunch. “Hmm. Are you using triggers?”

“Triggers? What are those?” Martha tilted her head as she looked down at me.

“That might be the problem. You’re just trying to replicate the one work energy you got to succeed, right?” I said, dusting the crumbs off my pants. “In that case, it’s the whole, ‘Work Energy: Abyssal Well, activate’ thing.”

Martha recoiled. “That’s so lame!”

“I don’t make the rules.” I shrugged. “You might be mustering all the power needed to activate work energy, but you’re just not applying it. Triggers give your mind a clear picture of what you want to achieve, and helps your mind to focus that energy into reaching that goal. When dealing with magic, that goal is usually getting your spell to activate.”

“If you say so, but…” She rubbed her temples. “Don’t you get embarrassed saying stuff like that out loud? It feels so childish.”

“You were the one interested in magic. I’m just telling you how it’s supposed to be done.”

“Alright, fine. I’ll… keep it in mind.” Exhaling, Martha turned back to her phone.

As I had nothing else to do, I plopped into Jasmine’s seat, seeing as she wasn’t there at the moment. Martha was watching some kind of entertainment on it, and seeing as I didn’t have a phone of my own, she let me have one of the sound-playing little knobs, which were apparently called earbuds. I was still fascinated at how the humans here who were non-reliant on magic managed to compact such intricate mechanisms into these little devices. I found that it was quite easy to lose track of time when watching these ‘videos’, and before I knew it the time until my match was almost up.

“Looks like I’d better get going,” I said, plucking the earbud from my left ear.

“Connor and Jasmine never did come back, either. They probably went straight to Connor’s match.” Turning off the phone, Martha got up from her seat. “Well, whatever. I’ll come watch you.”

Though there were still five minutes before my event started, my opponent was already sitting on one of the small circular tables. I took the seat opposite him, sizing him up.

From the sheet, I think his name was Hubert. He was an angular boy with coarse sandy hair, who couldn’t have been over the age of twenty. He didn’t look too powerful either, yet a competitive fire still raged in his eyes. Doesn’t seem like he’s aiming for the prize at all. I guess there are other people like Connor, just playing for fun.

“Hey there,” he said, extending his hand. I shook it, and he flashed a brisk smile. After a few minutes, one of the uniform-clad organizers arrived to act as a referee. I read the time off a clock on the wall. 2:35. It should be beginning soon.

When the time arrived, the referee blew a whistle. With that, Hubert set his arm on the table. “No hard feelings?”

“Yeah,” I said, nodding. As I clasped his hand tight, I took a deep breath. My power should be more than enough. Nothing to be nervous about. I lowered my voice to a whisper, which you wouldn’t be able to hear unless you were really trying. “Work Energy: Iron Arms, activate.”

“You may begin.” The referee said curtly.

Quickly, I could see Hubert’s face tense up. His grip on my hand tightened, and I could see his muscles start to strain as he shot his strength into my arm. My arm sat there unmoving, even as I barely put effort into keeping it still. Is this his full strength? Maybe I didn’t even need the work energy. Oh, well.

I nudged my arm downwards, and Hubert’s arm slammed down onto the table, causing dust to rise off it. I flinched back. Ah. Was that too much power?

The referee was silent for a second, before coming out of a daze. “The winner is Do, Donne…” He squinted at the paper in his hands. “The winner is Don!”

Well, you gave an effort. I turned back to Hubert, who’s arm was still lying flat on the table, as he stared with a stunned expression. Finally, he cracked a defeated smile. “You know, you’re pretty darn strong!”

Yeah, well, if you were severely experimented on by a bunch of power-hungry scientists at a young age in order to become a living weapon, you’d be strong too. I smiled dryly to myself. Can’t say the trade-off is really worth it, though.

Martha emerged from behind me. “No mercy at all, huh?”

I shrugged. “Can’t afford to take any chances.”

After the first few rounds, the pace of the tournament started to speed up. Chris would text Martha my next opponents, and I’d go to the assigned table. The outcome of each of the next few matches were pretty much the same; ending swiftly with my victory, and with little effort.

“Oh.” Martha’s eyes widened as she looked at her screen.

“What is it?” I glanced at the screen from the side.

“Look at this.” She turned the screen around so that it would face me. “It says that your next match is against Connor.”

Oh, she’s right. There it was, written in little black letters: (Connor Briggs – Donnelius Conqaide, 4:40).

“This raises an interesting question. Both of the people this matchup are people you know.” I tapped on the screen. “So, who’re you gonna root for?”

“Huh?” Martha looked a bit startled for a second, and when she answered, it was in a quieter voice. “Well, I guess… it would be you.”

“Is that so. How interesting,” I grinned widely. “Is it because, perchance, you’ve fallen for my irresistible manly charms at last?”

“You wish,” Martha exhaled heavily, folding her arms. “It’s just because I figured that Connor would already have Jasmine backing him up, that’s all. And, you need that prize money, so…” Puffing her cheeks out, she turned away. “You know what? Maybe I will root for Connor, just to spite you.”

“That wouldn’t be such a bad idea. He’ll need the extra support, if he wants to beat magic with brute strength.”

Martha was already stalking away. “God, why do I take the trouble of offering my generosity to you?”

Then, in the blink of an eye, she was gone. I sighed, rubbing my head. Man, I just don’t get the people here.

“But, even after all that, you know she’s still secretly hoping you’ll win, right?”

I whipped my head back. “What?”

Kin drifted in the air behind me, and winked once. “Trust me. Just something I’ve learned from previous encounters with humans.”

“I thought you were going to watch for intruders,” I glowered.

“Eh, well, spirits get bored too.”

“Get lost.” I lashed out an arm at his floating body.

“Oops, gotta go. Sorry for cutting in.” Just before my arm made contact, Kin fizzled out of existence, leaving the image of his fiery grin burned into my vision. I scowled, and made my way over to my match.

When I arrived, Connor was already there waiting for me. His forehead already looked drenched with sweat, and his T-shirt was sticking to his body, but he looked energetic nonetheless.

“You made it this far?” I asked, pulling out the chair from underneath the table, and taking a seat.

“I said I was playing for fun, but I’m still planning on giving every match my all,” Connor smiled, his slick face illuminated by the glaring white light.

“Really? I should be glad, then. It would seem like an offense to me otherwise,” I said, rolling up the sleeve of my right arm. Connor was physically less bulky than some of the other contestants I had crushed, but he seemed to give off a slightly different vibe.

“Confident, aren’t you?” He cracked his knuckles. “Don’t see any reason why you shouldn’t be, though. You don’t look tired at all.”

“Just a fair warning; I’m stronger than I look.” I set my elbow on the table.

“As am I. This should be an entertaining match.” Connor did the same, as the referee neared.

And then, the blow of the whistle came. “You may begin.”

Instantly, I felt the entirety of Connor’s force bear down on my arm. My arm didn’t go down, yet it was being shaken like a tall building in the wind. In surprise, I found that I had to exert the same amount of force it took to defeat my other opponents just to keep my arm in that position.

Did some of my work energy wear off in the brief period of time between the last match and this one? That couldn’t be possible, since I would have felt the fatigue. Then… is Connor actually this strong?

Connor let out a rousing cry, and shifted the power of his arm downwards, little beads of sweat dotting his side of the table. To my surprise, my arm was actually forced down a little, and I had to give a real attempt in keeping it up. Behind him, I could see Martha and Jasmine standing next to each other. Jasmine didn’t say a word, but her support for Connor was almost palpable. Martha was staring intently at our fight, but it was hard to tell which side she was cheering for. Maybe she wasn’t cheering for any side in particular, and just was hooked on the match itself.

I really can’t let my guard down during this fight. If I do, I might actually lose. As of the moment, I was in no real danger of losing, but I couldn’t underestimate Connor’s random bursts of power. Humans were weird like that, tending to suddenly receive brief increases in strength in desperate times. Putting in more force, I moved my arm in for the kill. I managed to force his arm almost all the way to the table, but my advance was halted just before I could press it all the way down.

Gripping the corner of the table, I could see Connor’s veins starting to protrude, as he gritted his teeth together like a vice. Our arms wavered in the same point, not moving up or down.

His determination hasn’t lessened at all, even in a position like this. No, on the contrary, it’s actually increased, I noted, watching Connor struggle to push his arm back up. He wasn’t lying about giving his all. I’ve got to end this quickly, before he gains even more determination. I closed my eyes, and tensed up my arm. Sorry, Connor.

Exerting a burst of actual effort, with a loud slam, I drove Connor’s arm into the side of the table.

“The winner is Don!”

At that, an audible cheer arose from behind us. I looked around, and found that there was actually a sizable crowd spectating this match.

“Looks like you’ve gained some fans,” Connor said, slumping down on the table with a grin. “You deserve it, though. You haven’t even broken a sweat.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that.” I lifted my arm, and stretched it a little. “I’d say you were probably the only opponent I could actually have lost to. You say you didn’t do well in the last tournament?”

“Yeah, well, I joined this tournament because I felt like I could do better than last time.” Connor scratched the tip of his nose. “Apparently not by a lot, though.”

“You did fine. You were just…" I stood up from my seat. “Unlucky to have fought me this early, I’d say.”

I worked my way through the small crowd, until I reached the two girls. “So? How was it?”

“Hmm.” Martha shrugged nonchalantly. “More or less what I expected.”

“What a weak reaction. I was expecting something more.” I sighed.

“He’s strong as hell, though!” Connor had walked up behind me, and he pat down my biceps. “Where do you fit all that strength into such a scrawny body?”

“Back at you.” I responded. “Now please, unhand my arm. It’s starting to get a little creepy.”

“You beat Connor using your own ability, so I’ll give you that. In that respect, I don’t have a problem with your victory itself.” As she walked over to the table, Jasmine spoke suddenly. Normally, she talked so infrequently it was weird to hear a full sentence from her like that. “Though, I am a little disappointed in Connor, given that he somehow lost against someone like you. Connor, is your resolve that weak?”

“Don’t be like that,” Connor moaned, hoisting my arm up. “Look at this. His muscles are like titanium!”

“I told you to stop.” I tugged my arm away, before turning bitterly to Jasmine. “And, you. What have you got against me? It’s not like I’ve ever done anything to you.”

Jasmine stepped forwards. “I’m going to be frank; I don’t like you. Martha, who doesn’t interact much with others, much less strangers, suddenly brings a strange man into her life seemingly out of nowhere, with no context. Then, she expects us all to instantly trust you? Something just doesn’t add up.”

Well, I guess my abrupt appearance would seem a little strange from an outsider’s perspective. “But do you really have to be so harsh on me? You’ve treated me differently from the beginning.”

Connor stepped forward, waving his hands. “Jasmine, could you be a bit more considerate? You’re being really rude right now.”

“Call me rude if you want, that doesn’t matter to me. There’s just something about all of this that still seems strange to me.” Jasmine’s dark eyes drilled into me. “Martha, Connor, and Chris are all good friends of mine. If you let something happen to any of them, I’m not going to forgive you.”

‘What is someone like you going to do to me?’, I wanted to ask, but I realized that this wasn’t my old world, and I couldn’t just say whatever I wanted. I figured that in this world, saying something like that would probably just complicate the situation. So, I thought over it, and decided on something more appropriate.

“Think whatever you want. I don’t care,” I said without backing down. “But I promise you, I will not harm a single person at the Oasis. If I do, I swear that I’ll listen to anything you say. And if that request is for me to leave, then so be it.”

“Jasmine… I think you’re entitled to your own opinions.” Martha stepped out from behind me, and placed a hand on Jasmine’s shoulder. “But, I do trust him. Don is not a bad person.”

At this, there were a few moments of pressured silence, where we could only hear the dull chatter of conversations going on in the background. Then, Jasmine softly brushed off Martha’s hand, and faced away from her. “I know that you do. I’m just… afraid he may have tricked you into thinking that.”

“There’s a lot I can’t tell you right at this moment, but I don’t feel I’m wrong in believing that.” Martha’s stubbornness hadn’t changed a bit ever since I had first met her, but I felt relieved to some extent that she was now using it to defend me.

Breathing out, Jasmine lowered her stiff posture. “Alright, then. I still don’t trust him, personally, but I can understand.” With that, she headed for the exit of the tent, and Connor quickly followed.

“Aw, you think I’m your good friend? That’s sweet.” His voice got quieter as the two moved farther away.

“Shut up about that.” Jasmine’s voice rang out from a distance, before fading away.

Martha released a breath of air she had been holding. “That was more intense that it needed to be. Sorry.”

“I don’t blame her. I carry around that level of paranoia as well. I guess I never really considered it from her perspective,” I said, as I turned to Martha. “Though, this is partly your fault as well.”

“Me? What did I do?”

“It’s more a matter of what you didn’t do. If you met new people more often, this wouldn’t even have be a problem,” I frowned.

“I’d say it’s your fault for pissing off the citizens of your world so much that they’d decide to literally teleport you to another planet.”

Ah, touché.

“Actually, I’ve been wondering.” Martha stopped walking, and stared up at me. “Why did you get sent here in the first place?”

“Oh, that.” I scratched my neck bashfully. “Yeah… maybe blowing up that mountain wasn’t the best idea.”

She froze. “You… what?”

“Well, a high-ranking Blumonian general was mouthing off to me, and I got pretty damn annoyed at him. And you have to know, he had this swanky vacation castle built on the highest peak of Blumon.” I swayed back and forth. “So, I… sort of…blew it up. The whole mountain.”

“You’re kidding.”

I waved my hands quickly. “No, well, it’s not like there was anyone on it, I checked. But apparently, wiping Mount Rizur off the map was enough to get the kingdoms to mobilize the Royal Infantry.”

“Then… you kind of deserve it, don’t you?” She asked.

“I may have forgotten to mention,” I continued, twiddling my thumbs. “I also knocked out a fifth of their army with a wave of darkness, trapped the rest in an inescapable wall of fire, before finally taunting them to shoot me with their strongest attack. Which is how I was sent here.”

“Oh, boy. I take back what I said before. You are a dangerous guy.” Martha slowly bobbed away, and began walking again. “Jeez, now I’m kind of happy that you don’t have your full strength.”

“Come on! I’m a changed man,” I said, patting my chest. “I’ll be more responsible with my powers once I get back.”

“Easy for you to say now.” There was still a touch of suspicion in her eyes. “And, shouldn’t you be getting ready for your next match?”

“I’m not the one receiving the messages,” I said, pointing to her pocket. “What does it say there?”

Martha turned on the screen, and as she opened up the messages, her faced paled for a second. “Oh… I didn’t know he signed up as well. Did she find out, somehow?”

“What?” I thought that Martha looked a little different than usual. “Didn’t know who signed up?”

Wordlessly, she showed me the screen. (Floyd Carver – Donnelius Conqaide, 5:15).

“Floyd Carver?” I read off the phone. “Did he do something to you?”

“Floyd… is Marissa’s boyfriend.” Martha bit her nail. “He’ll do basically anything she wants him to do. Knowing her, actually, she might have signed him up just to sabotage you.”

“Sabotage me? To serve what purpose?”

“Marissa knows that you’re connected to me in some way. This might be an attempt to discourage me.” Martha’s walking pace sped up.

“Why would she go this far? Does she really hate you that much?” I worked to match her pace. “And, if so, why do you still work together with her?”

“Love-hate relationship? No, that’s not true. I’d say it’s mostly just hate,” Martha corrected herself. “Though, I don’t think… either of us really have a choice in the matter.”

“That’s quite vague.” I stuck my hands in my pockets. “Is there something preventing you from telling me everything?”

“You could phrase it that way.”

“Then, I won’t ask about it too much.” I myself knew what it was like to not want to reveal everything, so I decided to respect what privacy Martha still had.

“In any case, Floyd is bad news too,” Martha said, pocketing her phone. “He’s… how can I put this accurately? He’s like the type of guy that Jasmine is afraid you could turn out to be. Floyd’s like Marissa’s personal henchman, but he’s pretty manipulative himself.”

“I see. Well, I’ll watch out for him,” I said, but I still didn’t fully understand. Though, what harm could come out of a simple arm-wrestling game? The worst he could do is win.

As I sat down on the predetermined seat, I saw that the referee was already there, and yet the seat opposite me was blank. After some time passed, I checked the clock on the wall, which was now farther from me than before. It’s time for the match to start, I think.

Finally, at the last conceivable second, a large man pushed his way through the crowd. Plunking down on the little seat, he stared me down through his dark sunglasses, which was strange considering we were in an indoor area.

“You Martha’s new guy? Don’t seem like much,” he grumbled, picking at the grit underneath his nails.

I wouldn’t say his presence was exactly intimidating, but it was certainly… something. From the moment he sat down, the atmosphere of the crowd around us changed from light-hearted and chatty to something quieter, as if some force had drowned out all their energy. Though I felt all the humans on this planet dressed strangely, this man’s fashion sense was completely different, wearing a slick dark jacket over baggy underclothes. His hair was trimmed back so short it was barely there, while his tan skin and gnashing teeth made me feel like he was some kind of knockoff gangster. If he was in my world, he would be some kind of bounty hunter for sure. And though his fashion was ridiculous, the air surrounding him reeked of the same familiar tobacco and alcohol combination so many drunks back in my world sported. The smell put me off so much it almost made me hesitant to make contact with him, even if just to engage in a game of arm-wrestling.

Reluctantly, I set my arm on the table, and reactivated my work energy under my breath. “Work Energy: Iron Arms, activate.” Let’s just get this over with.

As Floyd took my hand, I flinched a bit at the sweat lining his palms. Then, the whistle sounded. “You may begin.”

What first shocked me as Floyd slammed down on my arm wasn’t his strength, but the sheer aggression of his assault. I wasn’t entirely prepared for this, and my arm was almost completely shoved down to the table before I could react appropriately. I felt my pulse jump, as I scrambled to find a better position. Crap! Gotta get back up.

Though Floyd was clearly bulkier than Connor, he didn’t have quite as much determination, and it was actually easier to push back his strength and return to a neutral position. I felt a little reassured at this. At this rate, I’ll win without much trouble, and I can move on without trouble.

As I started pushing Floyd’s arm over to his side, something glinted in his eyes, and a feeling of anxiety swept through me. Does he have some kind of plan?

While I was busy trying to figure this out, Kin suddenly materialized above me. Alarmed, I decreased my power a little, and Floyd used this to his advantage, pushing my arm back down a little.

What are you doing here? I glared daggers at Kin, as he slowly floated down next to my head.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m supposed to be on lookout, whatever.” Kin stretched. “I’m just here to give you a little warning.”

Warning? What’s he talking about? I turned my attention away from Kin for a second, in order to focus and bring my arm up again.

“This guy, uh,” Kin pointed to Floyd’s arm, “he’s got something up his sleeve. And I mean that in the literal sense.”

What? As I trained my eyes on Floyd’s hand, from this tilted position his arm was in, I could just barely see the semblance of a few colored wires tucked deep within his clothes.

“It’s some sort of confusing human doodad,” Kin continued. “Though, if I’m going to guess, he’s probably going to try to electrocute you with it.”

He’s trying to electrocute me to secure his victory? Someone is bound to notice. He’ll be disqualified for sure! But then I remembered Martha’s words: Floyd was just here to sabotage me, not to win. So, he doesn’t care if he’ll be ruled out, huh? As long as he manages to make it so that I can’t continue.

Can you do something about this, Kin? I stared at his glowing form pleadingly, hoping he’d get the message.

“Ah, I understand. You don’t want me to be here, do you?” Kin nodded. “Well, my job here is done, so I’ll respect your desires.” With that, the spirit vanished once again.

Damn you. I scowled. Well, Floyd, you want to play dirty? Fine by me. I have no qualms about winning by playing even dirtier. As I forced Floyd’s arm down, I saw his expression change again. Right at that moment, I opened my mouth just enough to form a few words.

“Absorption Wall.” A thin sheen of yellow instantly covered my arm, though it was almost impossible to see in this lighting. Floyd sneered, and with his other hand that was tucked underneath the table, triggered the device on his arm. With a soft crackle, a surge of energy streamed up Floyd’s arm, and was promptly sucked into my hand.

My eyebrows flew up. Holy crap, that was close. Kin was actually helpful, for once.

Absorption Wall was a relatively simple spell to use back in my world, and soldiers who fought on the front lines utilized the spell often. For a short time, this Tier 2 spell would set up a small barrier above the user’s body. Then, to a certain limit, it would take in and nullify all blunt-force and minor energy attacks. To counter this, many armies adopted the use of sharp weapons for close-range combat. But it worked perfectly for this purpose of negating Floyd’s electrical ambush.

I continued to grapple Floyd’s arm without flinching at all, and a ripple of confusion seemed to flood across his face. Feeling that something went wrong, he activated the device again. And again. The waves of energy were consumed by the yellow barrier each time he tried to shock me, and my delight grew with every attempt.

Oh, I almost feel bad for doing this, I snickered internally. Almost.

As Floyd’s frustration mounted with each failed endeavor, his confusion was replaced with rage. At this point, the thin wall on my hand was almost burning up with stored energy. Then, I glanced up at Floyd’s dark glasses, and gave him as smug of a look as I could muster. What goes around comes around, sucker.

“Release.”

At my words, five electrical-shock’s worth of energy ricocheted right back into Floyd with a deafening crackle. His muscles tensed, and every hair on his burly arm was singed right off, while he convulsed in his seat like he was being strangled by an unseen force. As this was happening, I slammed his arm onto the side of the table with a wet slap.

The crowd was speechless for a second as they stared at Floyd, who was apparently knocked unconscious by my retaliation and was currently sliding off the table.

“What… just happened?”

“There was some kind of loud bang.”

“Look!” Someone in the crowd pointed out. “There’s something attached to the underside of his arm!” Since Floyd was lying sprawled on the ground, the device in his sleeve was exposed for all to see.

“Was he… trying to shock his opponent?”

“It probably malfunctioned, shocking him instead.”

“Serves him right, then.”

I smiled slyly, admiring my handiwork. Serves him right indeed.

The referee slowly came back to his senses. “The winner is Don, by default! Floyd is disqualified!”

Suddenly, someone squeezed their way through the crowd, making her way over to the table.

“Don! Don, are you okay? I heard a really loud noise and I hurried over.” Martha hastily lifted my arm up, and examined it front and back. “See, I knew he was bad news! Ah, I knew something like this was going to happen!” Her words started blurring together, and she quickly glanced from Floyd to me several times. “Did he hurt you?”

“He tried his damn hardest to. Didn’t work, though.” I scanned Floyd’s arm, and saw that the device was still crackling with the residue of energy. “He tried to shock me, but I sent it back to him.”

Martha breathed. “That’s a relief.”

“Yeah, well, it’s what he gets for cheating.”

“You’re cheating too, though.”

“Well, that’s… different.” I averted my gaze. “I’m doing this because I don’t really have a choice. He was just being a bad person!”

“That’s true… I guess.” She seemed to have calmed down a little, and she checked my arm one more time. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

“I’m fine,” I said, glancing backwards awkwardly. “I’m more concerned over you fawning over me like an overbearing parent. People are staring, you know.”

“Oh.” Martha’s face heated up, and she backed away slowly. “Well, I’m, um, glad you’re okay. S-See you!” She darted away, ducking her head to avoid the scrutiny of the crowd.

Later, a few of the organizers pulled Floyd off somewhere, most likely to get treatment, and the tournament continued as planned. I had a few more matches, and they went relatively smoothly in comparison to my last few matches. The one thing I noticed was that the crowd watching my matches consistently increased with every round I won. Between matches, Connor found me, so we grouped up for a bit.

“You really almost got sabotaged, huh? Sorry about that,” Connor said, patting my back. “I would have let Floyd have it, if he’d managed to pull it off. Wouldn’t have felt fitting to have you back out after defeating me.”

“My trust in you is one thing, but… putting that aside, it was unfortunate for you to have run into him,” Jasmine said, speaking out to me from behind Connor.

“I’m sorry, were you trying to give your condolences?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.

She looked away. “It wasn’t one thing or another. Just saying it was unlucky.”

“Come to think of it, though, Chris never did come back, huh?” Connor leaned backwards. “Wonder if he wandered off and couldn’t find us?”

“That can’t be right,” Martha said. “If that were the case, he’d have texted at least one of us.”

“How well did he do, anyway?” Connor asked curiously, pointing to Martha. “You can check the tournament brackets online on the website, I think.”

“Checking the brackets might not be such a bad idea,” I sighed, rolling my right shoulder. Winning fights was one thing, but keeping up work energy on and off like this was starting to get to me. Taking a peek out of one of the tent’s ‘windows’, which was basically just a hole in the fabric, I saw that it was already dark outside. “I wonder how many more matches I need to play? I don’t think I can take much more.”

Martha tapped on her phone, and scrolled for a bit. “Found it.” After taking a closer look, her eyes widened. “Wait, finals?”

“What do you mean?” Connor leaned in to see the screen more clearly.

“The next round is the finals!” Martha said, tapping on the phone.

“Wait, you mean Chris actually managed to win every match?” Connor stepped back, and brushed his hair back. “That guy’s freakin’ amazing, man!”

“Wait, wait.” I held out my arm. “Chris made it into finals?”

“I know, right? It’s pretty hard to believe that someone we know could win this huge tournament!” Connor laughed, flinging his arms into the air as if to drive his point home. “You think that counts as knowing a celebrity? Wonder who his opponent is. Must be pretty amazing too.”

I tilted my head, pointing an index finger towards myself. “You know, I haven’t lost a single match either.”

Everyone stopped, and turn their heads to look at me slowly. “Huh?”

“If we both haven’t lost a single match, then doesn’t that mean…”

Swiftly, Martha pulled up the phone again, and there it was.

(Donnelius Conqaide – Chris Nicholls, 7:30)

The final match was more crowded than ever. Even though some of the contestants had left after they lost their matches, many remained to spectate, and it was almost as if every person who stayed was condensed into the tiny area around the table where the last match was taking place.

“So, you’re my last opponent, huh?” I edged into my seat, glancing at the hulking figure in front of me. I had already noticed it before, but up close like this, Chris really was a big guy. “I was wondering where you disappeared off to after your first match. Wouldn’t have guessed you were on a winning streak, though.”

“You’re not doing bad yourself. To be honest, at first, I felt like you signed up on a whim, but you’re really putting your heart into this.” Chris said, flexing his right arm. The size of his muscles was almost disheartening, as thick as a log. “I’d be happy to lose to you.”

We readied our arms. I was nervously anticipating the piercing shrill of the whistle, and so was the crowd behind us. Chris’ expression was hard to read, but it was one of determination, like Connor’s.

“You may begin!” The whistle sounded, loud and clear. And then my hand was pressed onto my side of the table, with a heavy slam.

What? The tension around us slowly started to break down.

“Is it… over?” Someone’s voice whispered in the crowd.

What just happened? My line of vision slowly moved to my arm, which was being pinned to the table. I had definitely activated my work energy beforehand, there was no doubt about it. I had been resisting against Chris’ arm just as much as I had with any of the other matches, if not more. And yet, my hand had been slammed down before I even had a chance to react.

“The winner of the finals match is Chris!” Reality finally seemed to set in for the people watching, and the crowd erupted with noise. Chris released my hand, as I continued staring, dumfounded.

“Hey, sorry if that was a little aggressive. I know you personally, so I felt like it should have been my courtesy to go all out, right from the start.” He retracted his arm, and smiled. “That was my only chance to win, you know. I was certain that if I didn’t use everything I had right at the beginning and taken you by surprise, I would have lost the match for sure. No doubt about it.”

Did this man… actually manage to overpower the force of work energy? Even for just a second… I leaned back in my little chair, and sighed. Connor was right. This guy really is a piece of work.

“Ah, man. It’s my loss.” That was all I could say.

The referee raised his sound-amplifying device into the air. “The… the victor of this tournament is Chris Nicholls!”