SECOND BRANCH:

Mister Bourgoistic

The orders of the fights were fixed to multiple walls nigh the arena. And this is what Qualt, accompanied by Gloria and Troth, was watching.

"Well!" exclaimed Troth. "Looks like you're gonna have some difficulties with some of them!"

"Come on!" answered Qualt. "Just a little bit of infos on the ones you know."

"Nope!"

"Qualt", added Gloria, "he's pretty stubborn so it's useless to try."

"But I'm gonna fight and I'm gonna need those infos."

"For the tenth time: NO! Plus, some of them are my good friends. Sorry, but you're on your own."

"And you, Gloria, do you know some of them?"

"One or two names are familiar to me but I can't put a face on them. Maybe it's because of the asylum."

"Fuck..."

"But there is only one thing I can tell", then said Troth.

"And what's that?"

"Watch out for Bourgoistic. That fucker can be sneaky on what he's doing. A good friend of that fucking bear, in addition."

"First Class who makes a tournament? That doesn't make the District angry?"

"Some, yes, we can't deny it. But, in the majority, no. By doing that, he offers a chance to lots of people stuck. And he is one of the persons who actually care for some of us here."

"Oh, I see."

"So, yeah, even if he's a bastard, that dude is a saviour for some of the fighters you'll see around here."

"Oh, okay. Wait... Am I the only 2nd Class in this tournament?"

"Nope. Martin is a 1st while Dreodit, the first one you're gonna fight, is a 2nd. So, don't worry, you won't be the only red target inhere."

"Yeah, no pressure or anything."

"You're in a fucking Underground Tournament, what did you expect?"

"Only to fight."

"Okay, so, guys", cut them Gloria, "now is not the time to joke. Qualt, honey, are you prepared enough?"

"No."

She sighed.

"No I'm not but I'll still fight."

"And this is for that that you left your prostitute's job?"

"Shut up, Troth!"

For those who understood, Qualt was preparing himself for the great tournament. And, no, reader, you didn't loose a chapter, don't worry about that. It's a wanted ellipsis but you'll have some details on what happened between the chapter 12 and this one, the chapter 13. First of all to describe why they are here, why Troth is here, particularly, because he is ahead of the Ghort Gang, after all. But there is also one or two encounters he made of which the discussion was, in my opinion, interesting.

So, first of all, Qualt, after two weeks, heard of the tournament in which he would be able to fight a Darker. So he quickly went to the inscription. And, when I say quickly, it was the fact that, when he heard, he directly ran to his destination, Gloria following him and yelling him to wait for her, annoyed.

And while running, he hurt Troth at a corner. And here what followed that encounter.

"Ah fuck! Oh, it's you..."

Qualt shook a bit his head and...

"Arf!"

"Let me guess why you are here..."

"Tournament."

"You didn't let me guess..."

Then, Gloria arrived, puffing.

"Heck... Qualt! Fuck! I... told you to... wait for me... Pheeew! Oh, hey hi Troth..."

"Hello Gloria. So, yeah, you're here for the tournament as you said it the last time."

"Yeah."

"Okay. So, now, quick, before no more place is left."

"You won't say it twice!"

And Qualt ran again.

"Fuck, QUALT! WAIT FOR ME FOR FUCK SAKE!"

And she ran after him again.

A short time after, the inscriptions were done. At first, hundreds were into the tournament but, when came the selection, only sixteen remained. And you saw who they were. Qualt just sighed with delight when he saw he was taken. And he did that even more when he heard the reasons: he survived to a darker and he had fighting bases so he could offer some entertainment. And when he was waiting for the selection, he could discuss with one of the eliminated ones, a kinda old crocodile who was... frank with him.

"Question, why do you want the reward, you?" asked the crocodile.

"I want to do a thing outside, after. And you?" answered Ironhorns.

"I want, with the money, to put chaos in the 1st Class Zone."

"What? Why?"

"I don't come from Warfang. I'm here since the War began, since we had to protect ourselves and find a new home. Warfang welcomed us... even if the word welcome is a very naughty word. They just said you can enter, we will protect you and they threw us in a zone, in a district, treating us like total shits, like if we only were garbage because we are strangers without even fucking knowing us or trying to know us! They don't give us any respect nor consideration! So, I'll be honest with ya, if a civil war happens up there, they will fucking deserve it after all they've done!"

After that monologue, Qualt could only answer that:

"Okay."

And, after the announcement were made, Qualt and Gloria encountered Troth again and, when they asked him why he was here, alone, he answered:

"What? Every tournament is an event that I don't want to miss!"

So here they were, a few minutes after, when the fights order was shown. Then, he saw not so far from him a grey dragon looking at the orders. So Qualt came behind him and, recognizing him, said:

"Drer? What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Oh! Hey, Qualt!" he answered after turning back. "Well, I wanted to relax a bit and to watch one or two tournaments fights... And I just saw that you are one of the fighters."

"Yeah..."

"And you're gonna fight my cousin in first. Didn't know he was going to participate to one of those..."

"Wait, what? Cousin?"

"Yeah. The cadet of the second sister of my father. He's been through shits those last month so I'm not really surprised that he went here to have some money."

"So I guess you won't give me any infos about him to help me during the fight."

"You guessed it."

Then, a voice came from the middle of the main arena. A voice that resonated through the entire room:

"Everybody, welcome to the Underground Tournaments!"

Qualt, Gloria, Troth and Drer, then, went close to the arena to see a crocodile whose clothes were white and the middle purple. A white top-hat, which the band was also purple, was sitting on his head. He also had with him a luxuriant cane painted in purple. From where they were, they could see a satisfied smile on his face just as observing eyes and a well cared long and slender moustache. He held something in his (not so) free hand in which he was talking. It was an object that combined technology and magic. It was used to high a voice. And it was the perfect object for a presenter like him.

"Mon nom", continued the biped crocodile, "is Bourgoistic and I am the organizer of this tournament. And I will also be the commentator. As you may saw it, the finalist will earn a very great reward... only if he beats Alagar, notre darker! That means that this tournament is very very special. So you'll have special rules this time."

He let a moment of pause, a moment of silence, looking all around him and appreciating the whispers of everyone asking themselves what would be the special rules. Then, when he spoke again, a total silence went, especially for the terrible words he pronounced...

"Indeed, during this tournament, the brawls will all end with... death!"