Escape, Pt.1
"Did I say something wrong," Shaad innocently questioned as at least a dozen people surrounded him - many more were standing by, watching - their various weapons bared threateningly including a few pistols pointed at him. "I get it; I lowballed ya. How's 40 million sound?"
Shaad looked around as there was no response, only the sound of cocking guns and feet shuffling for position. He let out an exasperated sigh in response.
"Okay, now you're just being greedy."
"We already know you're here to try and steal Vega," a slender man in baggy jeans and a loose fitting shirt proclaimed, his sharp, angular facial features locked in a scowl while the nostrils of his narrow nose flared in annoyance.
"Steal," Shaad questioned, eyes wide with surprise. "I'd say 40 million is quite generous."
As repayment for his flippant attitude, Shaad earned the familiar feel of a gun's muzzle pressed against each cheek and his temple.
"Okay, okay." Shaad's voice bordered on frantic as he tried to negotiate his way out. "45 million, but that is the absolute highest I go."
To prove the seriousness of his threat, the man standing before Shaad silently ordered two more guns pressed against Shaad, one against his other temple and the other pressed to his lower back. Shaad swallowed the lump in his throat at the two newest introductions and raised his hands in surrender.
"You're serious; I get it. But, Tazz, let's consider the source. Who said I was trying to kidnap Vega?" There was a pause as the thuggish rogue recalled the conversation with his interim boss, the Sangre group's second. His face obviously gave away his thoughts as Shaad pounced. "That's what I figured. G's just pissed I hustled him in a game of pool in front of a few of his boys; he's obviously trying to get me back.
Tazz was no fool but neither was he the sharpest knife in the drawer. He had every reason to distrust Big G, and Shaad's words had him at least considering the possibility of a lie. That was all the young pirate needed.
"G's the one who told me the location of this place to begin with. True, I want Vega, but I offered to buy him. I think he'd be a great investment for a mercenary group I'd like to establish. But, think of this," Shaad offered, raising a finger to draw attention to his mouth as he took two measured steps forward. "Who really gains from you losing Vega. Sure, I'd stand to make a few bucks, but if G got his hands on him, your boss would lose face while he gained prominence as well as an elite fighter with a grudge. Pinning it on me just assures that whoever he sends has fewer of your men to deal with and a scapegoat. . . So, Tazz, do you really want to let that shorty play you for a fool?"
Shaad watched the creasing brow and increasing tension of the man in front of him, looking for signs that might dictate his next move. As Tazz, raised a hand in the air, balling the fingers into a fist, the pirate's hand wrapped around the grip of one of his swords as he tried to keep his expression neutral. After about thirty seconds, Tazz commanded the men threatening Shaad to stand down with a hand wave.
The gangster looked as if he were about to speak, but Shaad had a bad feeling about the words to come even as he released the hold on his sword. "Is that," Shaad interrupted, making a show of being distracted by something only he heard. "Seems G's man is already here. Whaddya say we make him pay for trying to play us. I'll go first." Before, Tazz or any of the others could even react, Shaad had blasted off away from the enclosed ravine, drawing his swords as he charged the unseen enemy.
Already but a speck to the guards he'd left behind and still pushing to go faster, Shaad launched off his left foot. There was no foe for him to face, and the only person there with eyes towards freeing Vega and slaughtering those who would get in his way was Shaad himself. He just needed room to establish a phantom scapegoat for survivors to point to as proof of G's betrayal. He may not have been as skilled at the trick as his dad, but he'd be damned if he couldn't make himself appear bigger to a few scared weaklings caught off guard.
Focused single-mindedly on his goal and not wanting to lose momentum, Shaad positioned himself as if angling his foot against an invisible wall in midair, pushing off and rocketing himself back the way he came with even greater speed. The young man knew not what he'd just done nor was he consciously aware of his doing it. For him, it was as simple as the idea entering his head and his body executing it, bypassing any part of his mind that might try and figure out how.
Dashing past the two guards at the mouth of the ravine, Shaad swiftly cut them down with outstretched swords, twisting his body as he jumped into the air. "Final Judgment." Shaad uttered the attack's name with a tone of distant finality as he struck the ground with the tip of his swords, channeling everything he had through that narrow point. It was like a bomb had been set off, leaving a huge crater in the earth and spreading a dust cloud that obstructed the vision of all around. Swinging his swords out, Shaad tore through those closest to him. Only screams and blood splatter telegraphed what awaited Sangre's men.
However, the dust he'd kicked up allowed Shaad to be more deliberate in his next steps. Withdrawing the bundle of 9-inch long toothpicks he kept in his jacket, Shaad cued the sharp pointed sticks in all different directions by rolling down the band that held them with his thumb and forefinger.
The sniper's atop the cliffsides remained clueless as to what was occurring within the opaque cloud until the a scattershot of the lethal projectiles peppered their ranks all along the divide. "Break Shot," Shaad softly muttered as he returned the black bladed sword to the sheath where its silver counterpart had already been replaced.
The last attack likely wasn't enough to actually kill the snipers, but it would do. "Big G thanks you for the care you've taken of his property," Shaad declared in a fake baritone. "Your role, however, ends as of today." The break in action didn't last long; the powerful young pirate had underestimated Sangre's men. His statement as he casually strolled down the center of the canyon stronghold turned the attention of all able-bodied fighters directly onto him. It would still be too dangerous to fire off their guns randomly, but these men were more than confident in their close combat abilities.
Shaad, though, didn't need eyes in the back of his head to see the dude approaching him from behind. Nor did he have to hear the deep exhales or the heavy footfalls on the arid ground. No, the determined yell was enough to alert the young man to his attacker's charge. Never breaking stride, Shaad was able to catch a glimpse of the bulky silhouette out of his peripheral with only two small steps to the left. But, more importantly, he spotted the large battle axe in the man's grasp, and with another, larger, step to the side avoided being split in two by the earth shaking swing that followed. Shaad clasped the calloused hands clutching the axe's handle with a single palm, the feel of bone and muscle straining beneath his grip. Causing the larger man to stumble forward with a single jerk of his hand, Shaad blasted his foe with a devastating elbow to the face before flinging the now limp body into a second attacker running wildly at him, dual machetes held overhead.
After taking down a handful more guys standing in his way, Shaad was nearly nicked by a knife flying just by his cheek. He barely raised his swords in time to block a second and third aimed at chest.
"You must truly think us fools," Tazz shouted, standing some meters in front of the pirate with a collection of knives clasped between the fingers of each hand as a growing rage tinged every word he spoke while Shaad gave only a half-hearted smirk of recognition.
Angered, Tazz aimed the knives in both hands at Shaad, forcing the calculating pirate to bend back as they cut through the air above him. Shaad had barely gotten his head back around before Tazz connected with a right hook across the jaw that pushed him on his back foot. Swishing the resultant blood around in his mouth before painting the ground with it, the sound of guns being cocked brought Shaad back to full alertness despite the ringing in his ears.
"Wait, wait! Don't shoot," Shaad panicked, his smile faded and both arms again raised high in surrender as he nervously raised his head and looked around. "Wow. . . Didn't think that'd work. Umm. . . Thanks, I guess."
"Reinforcements will be here soon to escort you back to the hotel and clear up this mess," Tazz informed. "Will you cooperate or die here?"
"Yeeaaa- No."
Before the last word had completely left his tongue, Shaad had struck a few of the men nearest him with sudden, sharp elbows and quick strikes, dropping them to ground and giving him room to maneuver. By the time the rest had recovered their wits, Shaad had dashed towards Tazz, catching him in a headlock with sword to throat as a large squad's worth of guns were aimed at them.
"You wish to declare war against the Sangre group?"
"No; everything I've done has been to avoid that," Shaad answered earnestly. "I'd hoped you'd all fall thinking Tiny or somebody did this without me having to kill too many."
Tazz merely scoffed in response, finding it pointless to talk with a dead man. "Shoot him already!"
Letting Tazz go, Shaad jumped into the air, adjusting to a reverse grip as he did so. He landed lightly on his feet behind the gunmen, swords crossed in synchronicity with his arms, and heaved a deep sigh. Shaad turned and stared in disbelief at Tazz who silently glared back, both men watching as the row of men between them simultaneously fell, fatal gashes across all their chests.
The bodies dropped with a thud, but Shaad paid them no mind. Nor did he care about the mob surrounding both he and Tazz, granting his rapt attention to the leader instead.
"Are you crazy? Telling them to shoot at you like that; they could've killed me."
"These men are better than to inadvertently hit me."
Shaad's voice calmed considerably at that. "Oh good. I thought you might've had some Devil Fruit that made you untouchable or something. . . That would've made this gamble too rich for my blood. I mean, there's already something going with those gloves; I'm guessing metal in the knuckles," he mused while massaging his jaw.
"I don't know how you thought this was gonna play out, but you're not walking out of here," Tazz threatened.
"You're right," Shaad admitted. "I'm running. But, only because I'm in hurry and have no desire to fight your reinforcements."
"You really think you can get away?"
"Only one way to find out." At that, Shaad dashed forward, throwing a hard straight at Tazz's midsection that sent the slender man skidding back and into a few of his men who caught him. Shaad looked on with a smirk. "Just a little payback for that cheap shot earlier. Didn't expect you to block it, though; you're better than I expected."
Standing up, Shaad watched as Tazz jerked himself away from his men's grasp. Adjusting his gloves and drawing two more knives - daggers this time as opposed to throwing knives -, Tazz looked to finally be getting annoyed with Shaad's games.
"Before we get started, how bout you tell me where the keys to the cells are located?"
"Get past me then you can worry about that."
Shaad heaved a sigh. "Things can never just be easy, can they? Fine; have it your way."
Both fighters instigated a charge simultaneously, their fists colliding at the center. A small skirmish ensued before one of Shaad's punches was caught by a knife wedged into the gap between his wrist and blade, a double tap to the ribs and swipe to the jaw sending him scrambling back with blood dripping from his cheek. Despite that, though, Shaad remained confident, bouncing back and angling in again. Tazz tried to meet Shaad's charge but staggered briefly as pain flared along his arms and he suffered a hard left hook for his troubled. Catching his wrist as he reeled, Shaad pulled him in and spun around to drive his blade through Tazz's abdomen before twisting his body back around and delivering a bone crunching haymaker that sent Tazz flying.
Shaad dabbed at the blood spilling from his cheek as he waited to see if Tazz would get up. The cut was deeper than he'd expected but that was of little concern. "Without my powers, my punches are a bit like stingers: they lack that oomph but you'll definitely feel it later. The impact stays with you; it's bothersome. That and their speed are the only advantages to an otherwise weak punch. But, when I have time to cock back, I can put some formidable power behind 'em. I'm sure you can attest to that. My abilities just take it all to another level. . . That's my take anyway. What's your opinion," Shaad questioned, ending his diatribe as Tazz pushed back onto two feet, blood pouring from the presumably broken nose of the deceptively strong gangster.
Tazz was quick to try and take back the offensive, looking to save face as the men under him watched on. He lashed out with a combination of punches, but Shaad weaved around them all. From the smirking face, it was obvious Shaad was toying with him. That was made all the more clear as the pirate spoke while still dodging the fierce onslaught.
"I originally intended to save my energy, but I now realize the faster I end this, the less I may be forced to expend. Besides, after I escape from here, I'll have a couple of weeks to recover anyway."
Shaad's flippant attitude, however, backfired in avalanching fashion. When Tazz performed a jump/spin technique, Shaad failed to accurately gauge range. That inability to do so resulted in a small scrape near his eye. While the wound was shallow, the blood splashed in his eye distracted Shaad from seeing the uppercut to his solar plexus that came next. The solid shot buried itself under Shaad's ribs and winded him.
Tazz was relentless in his attack. With Shaad bent over in front of him, Tazz brought his hands together and struck Shaad's spine with a devastating double axe handle paired with a vicious knee to the chest.
As Shaad screamed in pain at the knives buried high on his back, Tazz looked to further rend the wounds, tossing him aside like garbage and wrenching the blades free in the process. Tazz was pissed. The gangster aimed to kill Shaad.
Tazz bounded towards Shaad, but the pirate grit his teeth through the pain inflicted on him and landed in a three point stance. Shaad was lucky; Tazz's attack had missed severing spine or ligature not even by inches. The two enemies locked eyes for a second, their predatory breaths almost in sync with one another. Tazz was upon Shaad in no time flat, the blades of his knives bared and ready. Shaad shot forward as if launched from a cannon. A split second later, they each stood with their backs to one another. The scene was still and silent. Tazz's knives clanging on the rocky ground resounded through the area. Shock enveloped the surrounding mob as their leader fell face first onto the ground, a pool of blood forming beneath him. Shaad, taking advantage of their frozen state, strolled deeper into the blocked off ravine, hardly relaxing his swords even as the enemies before him reacted nervously.
"Where do you think you're going," a more muscled man with scars on his face and no shirt loudly demanded. "You just killed Tazz; there'll be no escape for you."
"He's not dead yet. I hope this small gift will inspire you lot to keep my secret." That wasn't the whole truth, though. Shaad had held every intention of killing Tazz, but if he hadn't let up at the last second, Tazz's knife would be sticking out of his chest instead of the ground. The half-truth did provide Shaad some much needed time. While the remaining skilled fighters debated their next course of action, Shaad got some distance between him and them. "If we can agree G this is all G's doing, no more blood need be spilled," Shaad offered.
Of the men put in charge of overseeing the arena fighters (as with most of Sangre's group as a whole), very few were cowards. In fact, most were presumably fairly formidable fighters in their own right. And, in a gang where rank was decided by strength and merit, one decision could be the difference between leading or serving for the rest of your life.
With the strongest among them having already been felled, a handful stepped back, prioritizing Tazz's life as well as their own over distant, unpromised rewards. The ambitious majority, however, saw opportunity (in the form of Shaad) walking away and went after it. Sangre led a prideful crew for the most part, believing one on one fights to be an honorable method. As such, his group and he were widely respected as the strongest on the island.
Ambition, though, proved a stronger motivator than honor as the remaining men moved after Shaad en masse, knowing that whoever came out with his head would receive unheralded recognition. Execution of objectives was after all more important than unsullied honor. Hearing the earth shaking movement of men, Shaad turned and faced the large group with an apathetic frown. "I'm sorry you've decided to pursue me. You should've focused on Tazz's health instead of moving up in your boss's eyes. . . Path of Cocytus!"
Shaad swung both swords to the side instead of at the mob breathing down his neck. The disinterested swordsman then turned his back to them and walked away. Those foolish enough to rush after were met with a gruesome end as boulders from the mountains to the left and right avalanched into the valley, crushing everything beneath them and blocking the path.
It didn't take long for Shaad to find where the fighters were being held (once he finally convinced himself to actually run). Only a handful of guards had stayed behind to watch the prisoners, and none put up significant resistance. Shaad frantically searched the area for the keys, but came up empty. Strolling along the line of cells in the mountainside, Shaad came across a familiar face.
"Old man, how are you?"
"I'm a bound and collared slave who's not even a main event draw anymore. How do you think?"
"Yeah, sorry. Stupid question."
"I may yet be better off than you, however," the man commented upon spotting Shaad's condition, particularly the blood splotches on his back, as he scanned the area. "Those guards are not an easy lot to shake."
Shaad ignored the remark as he was trying not to focus on the pain in his back. "Better question: where are the keys that unlock these cells?"
The old man shifted his considerable weight in the limited confines and Shaad saw what he meant when he noted he was no longer a main event draw: the bottom half of his left arm had been sliced off, a serrated weapon Shaad guessed from the wound. It had been seared shut but without cutting it down the wound could still get infected.
Shaad's amateur diagnosis almost caused him to miss the old man's answer to his most recent query. "Tazz keeps the keys at all times."
A frown fell on Shaad's face as he looked in the direction he'd come from. 'That blockade won't hold much longer. I'll have to cut open the cells.' That wasn't a problem, he just didn't particularly feel like it. The bigger issue was, "What about the collars? There has to be key for them."
"Only Sangre can unlock the collars. But, he's only done it once, so nobody knows if there's a key or not."
"Unnghhh! Shit can never just be easy."