With a flip of the trap doors, we fell.
And a second later, I landed. Right onto my feet, my sword acting as a third leg to brace my fall.
To my surprise, everyone was here. I stared around at the four, all crouched from landing. Well, except for Leorio. He somehow landed on his face.
I raised an eyebrow, "Smooth Leorio."
"Shut up!" was his reply as he sat back onto his butt.
The two youngest turned to each other and laughed awkwardly, while Kurapika stood up and brushed himself off. I brushed myself off too, which caused me to cough. It was dusty as hell in here. It was dark as hell in here too, which made the bricks of the room look dark brown in the shadows. The only light in the room came from a white, bright as the sun, monitor on a wall.
Kurapika looked around, "That was certainly a brief farewell."
Leorio's face made it clear he was annoyed, which I felt as well. We got worked up for nothing.
The tallest member of our group grew tired of sitting on his ass and got up. He spoke in a clipped tone.
"No kidding. I don't think any of us expected all those hidden doors to lead us all to the same room."
That reminds me... Leorio referred to this as a 'game' before we fell in... that sounds accurate now that I think back to how this whole exam operates...
I answered Leorio and Kurapika, but Gon walked in between us and towards the monitor... As he did, I kept staring at him incredulously. He just walked through the conversation Leorio, Kurapika, and I was having without a care in the world. Completely oblivious to us.
He really doesn't have self-awareness, does he? That or he doesn't care about proper conversation etiquette...
"Uh… ok… Anyways, this place is massive. If I had to guess, each trap door leads to different tests. Like a giant game, or an amusement park..."
My eyes wandered around the room, taking in the brick walls. There was no exit I could see. My eyes stopped on a box at the top of a wall. It looked like a speaker. I glared at it. If there was a speaker, I'd wager there had to be a camera nearby. And if that were true, I guess 'game' wouldn't be too far off...
Gon called over to the rest of us. Our team walked over while I stayed where I landed, continuing to have a stare down with a speaker.
"Hey, look at this! The five who drop into this chamber must find their way down together by consensus of the majority."
Leorio answered, "Wait, five?"
"Hey, they even left us five wrist timers," Gon said as he pointed to the table in front of the monitor.
Killua examined the watches, "With buttons marked X and O."
Kurapika turned to me as he was about to put on one of the watches, but before he did, I spoke up.
"Wait."
The rest of them froze, right as they were about to put on the watches.
Out of the speaker a voice boomed, "Quite suspicious, aren't you!? I am surprised you were aware this was a camera."
"My nature is to be curious, but this Exam is forcing me to be suspicious. It's always a test, within a test, within a test…" I said to the unseen examiner. I didn't know the speaker acted as a camera, but no need to tell him that...
"Understandable. While this prison is called Trick Tower, there are no tricks to that watch. You'll need them for this phase of the Exam..."
"My name is Lippo. I'm the prison warden here, not to mention, your Examiner for the Third Phase of the Exam."
I grumbled. Kurapika spoke up, "Did he say prison warden?"
The prison warden didn't seem to care that poor Kurapika was hard of hearing and continued his speech, straight past Kurapika's rhetorical question.
"We've gone to the trouble of preparing multiple routes through the Tower, and the one you've chosen is the path of majority rule. If you want to pass, and I'm sure you do, you will need to put on those wristwatches and cooperate to succeed."
Lippo paused his speech for a second. When all our eyes turned to the watches on the table, the Examiner continued, apparently a master at speechcraft and timing.
"One person acting selfishly could derail the entire group. And of course, you won't be permitted to start until all five of your members present wear the watches. I assure you, those watches are not dangerous. That's it, gentlemen. Best of luck!" Lippo said. The moment he finished, the whispering static of the speaker cut out and the sound system went dead.
I rolled my eyes. I guess we have to take his words at face value.
"It seems we have no choice but to wear the watches," Kurapika said, to me in particular.
"Fine... I just wanted to make sure these things aren't bomb watches or something. Like, 'seventy-two hours to get out or it goes boom, hyuk hyuk, wink-wink, nod, side elbow, 'Aren't we clever Examiners?!' Assholes..." I grumbled as I walked over and put on the watch first. Right on my left wrist.
Killua put on his watch. He looked at me with half-lidded eyes and eyebrow raised, "Man, this Exam has really traumatized you, huh?"
My growl was the only response I could give to Killua's pure truth.
Leorio looked at the watch on his left wrist and read off the time, "Seventy-one hours and forty minutes. We've got plenty of time-"
With a snap of Gon's watch, a section of the wall to our right slid up, cutting off Leorio's sentence. Behind it was a metal door with a screen and a metal pipe that connected to the door's locking mechanism.
Kurapika examined the door as he spoke, "I see. So the door must be programmed to appear once all five timers are put on."
I rubbed my chin.
"What if I put two on each wrist then, and one of my ankle?" I said, thinking out loud.
Kurapika answered anyway, "Good question... it may be programmed by a person's heat-signature, or the cameras are here to make sure all five members are here before the door can open," Kurapika said, holding a finger up.
Gon tilted his head as he read the words on the screen. Underneath the screens were O and X with digital black screens next to them.
"At this door, select O to open, X not to open."
Pfft, already? I pressed O on my wristwatch like it was the easiest thing in the world. I mean, it was...
Leorio said the words what I was feeling, "Using majority rule already? All right! At least the answer is obvious."
Five O's. Well, we're off to a smooth start.
We walked through the door and entered the next room. This time some lights illuminated the room, showing the full color of the red bricks with white cement binding them. There was another screen in front of us, with two gates on either side of us.
Leorio paused and raised an eyebrow at the screen, "Seriously? I didn't think we'd get another question so soon."
I sneered and pointed my left pointer finger at the screen while tapping Stick over my right shoulder.
"Yeah, are we gonna' do this for every room? That'll take forever..."
Gon leaned in to read. He seemed to have taken charge of reading all the signs. Gon was now officially our designated children learning program protagonist.
"Which way do you want to go? O for right, X for left."
I pressed O for right.
Three-two for O. I pumped my fist.
Abruptly, I leaned towards my right as Leorio complained and flipped out over the decision, yelling in my ear.
"Hey! Why would you wanna' go right?! You always go left! What's wrong with you?!"
I looked at him in confusion, "Why would you always go left?"
Kurapika answered, "Research has shown that people who are lost or find themselves at a crossroads tend to go to the left much more frequently than the right."
"Ah," was my response. I shrugged and stayed quiet.
That sounds wrong in a world full of right-handed people... unless this wasn't a world full of right-handed people. So I just shut the fuck up and looked pretty.
I mean, did it matter? I was following a maze-solving algorithm called the right-hand rule, so I don't see the problem...
Leorio hunched over slightly and pointed a finger in my face.
"Why'd you have to pick right, James?!" he said, as though he were Julius and I was Brutus.
"What's the big deal?" I shrugged, feeling even more confused.
"What if the right path is harder?!"
"What if it's easier?! Let's just move on, man," I patted him on the shoulder, "we got this. Us five? Light-work."
"Light-work?" now he looked at me with confusion, "What if it's hard work? Huh?! Hard-work!"
Then the giant child began shaking me by my shoulders. This was actually the weakest and most pleasant angry shake I've received so far. Ten out of ten. Would love to do it again.
Killua cut in, looking bored, "It's not a big deal. Let's go."
"What'd you pick, huh? And you?" Leorio said with a stab of his finger to Killua and Kurapika, zeroing in on the other perpetrators of this grievous act. Jesus...
"Right", the two said, one after another. Then they walked down the right path. I brushed Leorio's right hand off me and adjusted my suit. I turned around and followed the two. Right Squad, out…
Leorio yelled behind us.
"Okay, so we're both simple-minded. So what?"
"We?" Gon replied, almost offended.
Twenty minutes later and we entered a massive, cavernous chamber with tiled walls like the outside of Trick Tower. There was a platform held up by a column that stretched down endlessly into a black abyss. We were standing on a small ledge, with another ledge on the other side. There were five people on that other ledge.
Just a stab in the dark: they were the prisoners.
They were standing around, veiled in brown cloaks and clothing that hid their appearances. Around their wrists were thick metal manacles that looked very uncomfortable. One of the prisoners said something we couldn't hear and that prisoner's manacles fell to the ground.
The prisoner removed their cloak and stepped out from the shadows to reveal his size. He was about as tall as Leorio, but his frame was bigger. Big and muscular instead of lean and athletic like Leorio or I. His body was covered in scars, but his round head was covered the most. I could tell he was powerful. More or less as dangerous I was...
This didn't look good.
In the cavernous room, the five Hunter candidates huddled together like a football team.
Lippo and the muscular, bald prisoner had explained the rules to the applicants. Each of them would fight a battle with a prisoner. None of them could fight more than once. To win, one combatant would have to admit defeat. The combatants decided the means of combat. Anything was allowed, including death.
The five had accepted the trial, now it was time to win it.
When asked what the rules of the first fight would have, the bald prisoner said he'd prefer a battle to the death. After that, James told the man to wait and turned around spoke to Kurapika. As though the prisoner were a waiter at a restaurant and James' party of five had yet to decide what to pick off the menu.
Before the impromptu team huddle, James and Kurapika had taken five minutes to discuss the situation and design a plan of action. To James and Kurapika, the brief discussion of strategy and tactics was more than worth the meager number of minutes used up.
The red-headed Mafioso, a man of both prodigious video game experience and prodigious rule-breaking experience, could see exploits where others saw restrictions. This happened the moment he shifted his thought processes from thinking the Exam was a test, to that of a 'game'.
James clapped his hands, "OK, you guys. The best of five wins. We got this."
Kurapika nodded and picked up the conversation.
"Agreed. If we think of this as competition between teams, the first two matches are the most important in determining the outcome…"
Kurapika continued, pointing a finger in the air in a gesture James was realizing was commonplace in this world.
"In best of formats, odds of winning increases for the person or team favored to win. The more matches played, the higher that probability increases. The opposite applies, as well, to those predicted to lose. If we win the first one, our chance of victory increases based on factors such as morale and momentum."
James nodded and smirked, "Yup, so if we have a seventy percent chance of winning a single game... and if this were best of three, we'd have roughly a seventy-eight percent chance of winning. We're at best of five... so if my math is correct we have roughly eighty-three percent chance, rounded down."
The four of them looked at him like he was a freak.
Killua tilted his head, genuinely surprised, "Wow, you're really are a nerd. I thought you pretending to be smart."
James bristled, "Why would I lie about being smart?! Wait, you're messing with me..."
Killua grinned and chuckled while Leorio raised an eyebrow and responded, "Yeah, but you act so dumb..."
"You're one to talk, asshole!" James said as he snarled his lip like the gangster he pretended to be.
"Hey, I'm gonna' to be a doctor! I bet I'm smarter than you!" Leorio roared, with a raised fist and a foot stomp.
James frowned and twisted a pinky into his left ear, as though it were clogged.
"Sorry, what was that Doctor? I think I got tinnitus from your screaming. I'm gonna' sue you for malpractice!"
"Why you-"
Kurapika butted in, his eyes closed in sheer exasperation from having to wrangle cats, "We're wasting time, we need to figure out the best order to approach these matches," he turned to James, "Can you calculate the probability of victory given sixty percent chance of victory as well?"
James nodded and scrunched his eyes as the equation appeared in his head and he inserted the numbers in their place. After a minute of mumbling, James spat out the results.
"Ok, so at a point-six-zero pr- I mean sixty percent. At sixty percent it'd be sixty-eight percent chance of victory…"
The four of them heard a groaning sound…
They turned to Gon, whose eyes swirled in distress from listening to the math James mumbled. Steam was practically coming out of his ears.
Killua's eyes were pinpricks as he stared at Gon, surprise and disbelief plan on his face, "You OK, Gon?"
Gon steadied himself before laughing sheepishly and rubbing the back of his head, "Yeah, just that I'm not very good at math, hehe..."
Killua rubbed his chin. Kurapika nodded and opened his mouth to speak.
But before the de facto leader spoke, Killua threw in his two cents; understanding what James and Kurapika were trying to do and clarifying it.
"What you guys are saying is… that there's no point in going in thinking we're at a disadvantage. It'll only make us fight defensively. We'd be wasting time if we're timid," Killua said with a smirk. The boy somehow found strategizing battles to the death fun. Then again, the Zoldyck loved games and gambling...
Kurapika closed his eyes, thinking Killua's words over, before opening them and landing on Killua.
"Yes, but…" the blonde sighed, "I don't doubt that the five of us are more than capable of defeating the prisoners in one-on-one fights. If these battles were strictly physical, that is."
Gon tilted his head, before his eyes lit up with understanding, then grew serious, "I get it... We might not actually fight someone!"
Kurapika nodded, "Precisely. That's what concerns me... The first prisoner is prepared to fight to the death, but who's to say the next prisoner won't challenge us to some type of game that requires luck, intelligence, or skill?"
James pointed at Kurapika before speaking, "Yeah, I noticed something about the Exam. They're really lax about the rules. Very lawyery."
Gon turned to James and slightly frowned in confusion, "Lawyery?"
Killua answered Gon, pointing a finger in the air, "You noticed it yourself, Gon. When I was skateboarding in the tunnels, remember?"
"Oh yeah, you're right Killua!" Gon said, hitting his fist to his palm.
Leorio scratched his head, "Huh?"
"You remember Leorio! When you got mad at Killua! You thought it was a test of endurance, but we just had to follow Mr. Satotz!"
The teenager with the appearance of a grown man widened his eyes as he realized the connection. He snapped his fingers.
"I get it! The Examiners don't care about the spirit of the rules, only if we follow the wording."
"Fuck this Exam!" it did not need to be stated who said that.
Kurapika nodded, reluctantly agreeing with the green mobster, "The Exam tests Hunter candidates on both their physical and mental ability. It makes sense their rules could be circumvented if someone was clever enough."
"Well, I'll go first then. Test it out," James said as he pulled out of the huddle.
"Are you certain? That prisoner seems close to your level. Maybe Killua or I should go first," Kurapika said, his eyes serious.
James waved him off and turned to address everyone, whispering enough so the prisoners couldn't figure out the plan.
"I'm gonna' play guinea pig. I'll see if there is any wiggle room for us to exploit."
Killua took a step forward and, his eyes and voice serious as he spoke to James.
"Are you sure? That guy will try to incapacitate you so you can't forfeit. That's what I'd do if I were him..."
"I'll be fine. I got a plan," James said with a thumbs up and a smirk, but his eyes held determination.
The white-haired assassin exaggerated a frown and glared at James.
"Oh yeah? Because it looks like you make up everything on the spot."
"Yeah, I mostly do. And that's the plan again!" the beet-haired man said with another smirk and a thumbs up.
The other four looked at James with so much exasperation and disbelief they practically tripped standing still.
Killua was the first to snap out of James' audacity, inoculated to it by two solid days.
"I'm serious. You might not have any choice but to kill him. Remember what I said on the elevator?"
James frowned and looked away, before nodding with clenched teeth. For as flippant and facetious as James was, he still understood the seriousness of the situation.
He turned towards the walkway that led to the fighting arena. With a resigned whisper, he responded.
"Yeah... I know..."
The other three looked at Killua, who stared at James' back. The man walked across the walkway and into the arena, his wooden sword resting over his right shoulder and left hand in his pants pocket.
Gon was the first to speak.
"What did you guys talk about on the elevator?"
Killua glanced sideways at Kurapika and Leorio, both of them stared back at him with curiosity. The Zoldyck sighed and closed his eyes before answering Gon.
"That guy is way too soft. I told him he can't avoid killing people, especially people like that prisoner. That's why I was keeping an eye on him during the Exam," he opened an eye and squinted at the Kurapika and Leorio. Annoyance plain as day on his face, but his voice still nonchalant "if I was there when you two ambushed James, I'd have kicked your asses."
Kurapika sighed while Leorio scratched the back of his head while laughing nervously.
Gon tilted his head, like a dog observing the body language of another dog, then laughed.
"No wonder you guys are friends, you two are really alike!"
The three of them looked at Gon like he had three heads. Killua face changed to annoyance as he looked at Gon. He stomped the ground, held up his right fist, and pointed his left finger at James.
"Don't compare me to that idiot! We're nothing alike! Maybe you need to get your eyes checked, Gon!"
"Huh? Why? Everyone thinks you two are bad people, but you're both good people! Even if you guys look annoyed all the time, haha!"
"D-Damn Gon, don't say stupid stuff lik-, hey! Who are you calling annoyed looking!?" Killua said, now pointing a finger at Gon with his other hand in his pocket. He transitioned from being embarrassed to enraged in a heartbeat.
Leorio pointed his finger and grinned, "Heh, your face is red!"
"Shut up, idiot! I'll still kick your ass!"
Kurapika's voice cut off the argument that no doubt would've spiraled out of control. His stone serious face spoke more than any words could, sparking the other three to sober up.
"If what you say is true, and from what I've seen it is... then all we can hope for is James does have a plan."
Gon looked at Kurapika, a frown and furrowed eyes crossing his face before speaking.
"Why?"
Kurapika looked down at Gon, his face flushed with guilt before continuing, "When I ambushed James, he was so tired he could barely move. In my rage, I... held him against a tree. At that moment, I was completely vulnerable to a counter-attack. It was only later on, during the second phase, had I realized he was carrying concealed knives underneath his suit."
He turned back to James, his eyes grew hard and somber, "I don't think it even crossed his mind to kill me with them, and he certainly had the chance... You both are correct. James is a good, 'soft' person. But unless he can make that man forfeit, he'll have to kill him…"
They all stared at the member of the Mafia, who was anything but.
I stared at the prisoner in front of me as the grinding sounds of the retracting walkways echoed throughout the chamber. The prisoner was as tall as Leorio, was built like a bodybuilder, and looked like he killed people for exercise. But his body-type reminded me of something my old MMA friend told me. He said that big muscles are useless in a fight since they cost more oxygen, tiring you out faster. Unless you were godly talented, that is.
But in the Hunter world, where people can run hundreds of kilometers and still be fine, everyone was godly talented in some way. It's only natural I'd eventually fight someone close to my level...
Looking at him didn't fill me with confidence…
The two people comparable in size to my opponent were Leorio and I. Underneath my suits I looked like a world-class sprinter and Leorio looked like a world-class swimmer. The man's body dwarfed both of us.
He looked like a prime Arnold Schwarzenegger in a tight T-shirt. He had scars all over him too, and those scars had scars on them. So he had experience, skill, and some physicality. With a grin and his arms crossed, his body language screamed confidence and relaxation. So it wasn't like I could control him emotionally...
I wasn't lying to Killua when I said I had a plan. And yeah, I do make up a lot of things up on the spot. But that's because intense pressure makes diamonds...
... but also because things usually happened to me too quickly for me to plan out properly. This time I had a plan, yeah, but I had to remember that no plan survives contact with the enemy...
The prisoner gave me a confident sneer before speaking, "So, you're the one who's gonna' fight me? Took your time, didn't ya'? Not that I mind. The longer you waste, the shorter my sentence. Now then, I assume you accept the method of combat?"
I shook my head in disagreement and pointed my left index finger at him.
"How about a slight modification?"
"Hm?"
With my other hand, I slammed the tip of Stick into the stone floor with enough force that the tile I hit cracked. Thin, spiderweb-like lines shooting outward from the impact. He looked at it with a raised eyebrow.
I continued, "A person who is unresponsive for ten seconds automatically forfeits the match. On top of verbal forfeiting or death."
The prisoner rubbed his chin, before smirking and pointing a finger at Stick.
"I'll agree, but only if you fight without that thing. Fair?"
I nodded. Fair.
With a quick, short toss upward, I caught my sword. I turned to Killua, who nodded. Another toss later and it was in Cottonball's right hand.
With an audible crack of my neck, I raised my guard. This would be the first time I properly used the fighting style that was forged in the crucible that was the Twins beating my ass for three months...
Left-arm down at my waist, elbow at a right angle like a swinging scythe, shoulder protecting my chin. Right hand close to my other chin, ready to catch any punches to my head. My abs crunched, and chin tucked in against my neck.
Slowly I began rocking my left arm back and forth, like a pendulum. Over the course of my hellish training, I naturally developed a style reminiscent of my favorite boxer: the Motor City Cobra. Better known as Thomas 'The Hitman' Hearns.
The reason? Kalvin would annihilate my body with uppercuts and hooks. With my height and my eighty-inch orangutan arms, I didn't need to protect my head so much. I hope it worked as well against someone taller than me...
The prisoner smirked, but his eyes were apprehensive. He knew I wouldn't be an easy opponent.
He hunched over and opened his hands, splaying out his fingers. It looked like some type of military combat style, similar to what Briannaisa showed me. Hands open, ready to catch and intercept attacks and turn them around on his opponent.
I knew he would try quick submission holds designed to injure instead of submitting, probably tear my limbs off or something. That was what 'Naisa preferred when kicking my ass, and it was really damn effective. That style was all business: designed to quickly and efficiently end fights and neutralize people.
I would not give him a chance to get close...
The prisoner roared, "Now, begin!"
In a second, we crossed the distance to the middle of the arena. The moment we were in striking range, the battle exploded.
He had the height, but I had the reach advantage.
My left arm acted as a whip as my left fist flew out towards his face, faster than a cobra strike. Each punch intended to cause cuts and swelling as fast as possible, so I could eventually blind him and KO him with a cross.
But he knew what he was doing and neutralized my hand speed with his defense. He kept his guard high and grip tight as blocked my hits with ease. Arms held horizontally, they protected his head like a man with buckler shields strapped to both wrists. His tough forearms and hard elbows felt like punching stone, but it was all I could hit without compromising my defense while still maintaining my distance.
So I kept stinging his arms with my left jab to keep him at arm's reach, but it didn't stop him from advancing forward like an implacable tank.
I kept circling around him as he came forward, stepping to my left and pivoting whenever he got too close to me so he couldn't hit or grab me. He had short arms for his size, so it was simple enough to lean back to avoid his strikes. And every time he tried to set up a grab, I'd hit him with quick jabs and dance away. All the while trying to make sure he couldn't get me to the edge of the arena.
If he did, all he would need to do was push me off into the darkness.
When fighting, it's hard to tell time. As the adrenaline surges through your mind, the gap between seconds felt like seconds in and of themselves, and minutes feel like hours. The concentration and intensity of battle stretched out every critical moment. Animal instinct refusing to let you miss anything that could be dangerous. Thankfully, no Matrix-like change of perception yet.
That usually appeared when your mind realized something life-threatening was happening...
So, I was doing well so far...
Yet, even if I couldn't accurately keep track of the time, I knew I was wasting it. Even if I wasn't hit cleanly yet or hurt, I was still losing because of how they set this Phase up...
Killua was right about fighting defensively: but that advice applied to both of us in this arena.
He wasn't pressing the fight as hard as he could, content to keep blocking my probing, defensive jabs. All the while trying to counter with his own conservative strikes and grapple attempts. He was wasting my time. And I knew the moment I started opening up to fire real shots, he'd go for my windpipe...
So our battle settled into a constant rhythm. I'd jab here, a jab there, then a right cross to keep him from getting comfortable...
He'd block here, duck there, then go for my arm or a strike when I opened up for a harder, damaging punch...
But, before long, he eventually cut me off at a corner. Even though I tried to avoid it, he got me to circle right into a triangle-shaped dead end.
With a smirk, he roared, "Nowhere to run now!"
A single step in, moving faster than he ever had before, and he closed the distance between us in a flash.
My eyes widened as I crouched and put power into my left jab, my fist flying forward to stop his approach. But he was counting on it and ducked so low he was down at my waist.
He was going for my legs.
I clenched my teeth, hard. If I had a mouthpiece, I'd have bitten right through it. A growl escaped my throat. I kicked the ground with my right leg, twisted my foot like I was stamping out a cigarette, rotated my upper body, and threw an uppercut with all the strength I had.
The prisoner's eyes widened, but his reflexes were excellent. Fast enough to close his forearms together and form a cross with his arms. My fist made contact with tough flesh and stone-like bone. The sound was like a loud, thudding clap.
For a moment it felt like I caught my right fist on something, the same feeling when lifting a heavy weight and trying to wrench it up.
But that was for only a moment.
My arm and body drove through the resistance of his weight and momentum as I gave the man everything I had. I roared as my uppercut lifted the man off his feet for a split-second and sent him hurtling back, dust kicking around us from all our movement.
The prisoner flew at least a meter and a half back, his legs dragging on the floor as his upper body was pushed back from the force of my punch. His eyes widened in shock, plainly surprised by the force of my punch.
I grinned. That must have done some damage.
That feeling was gone the moment he came to a stop. He stood up from his crouch and shook his arms with a frown. But that frown changed into a confident smile.
"Heh, you're pretty strong. Stronger than I thought you'd be. Now I won't feel so bad for torturing you. Not that I'd have felt bad about it in the first place," he finished with a chuckle.
I scoffed at him, but inside it worried me. This guy was ridiculously tough. That uppercut was strong enough to kill an average person. I could already see the discoloration and welt forming on his left forearm where my punch connected. But I should have broken his arms, at least...
Shit...
I walked out of the corner and back into the middle of the arena. I adjusted my gloves and spoke in a vain attempt to attack him from another angle.
"That'll be your first chance. Give up now and you won't get beaten to a pulp."
The man looked at me with eyebrows high in the sky. Then he put both his hands on his waist and roared with laughter. When he spoke, his gravelly voice was pure cockiness.
"Don't think 'cause you got some power that I'll give up. I don't have to win, just waste your time..."
I frowned. I knew that, but the fact he said that made me concerned. He would play it safe, boring, and slow...
He grabbed his neck with his right hand and cracked it. The man gestured with his left, as though presenting something.
"Fact is, you don't got what it takes to kill me. That face of yours is mean as sin, but you can't fool me. The moment you gave up your sword and added that KO rule was the moment you lost the Exam," he turned over his left hand and pointed at me, continuing, "You're too soft."
I glared at him, my eyes narrowing until they were almost shut. He annoyed me, immensely, but I took a deep breath from my nose and exhaled from my mouth.
Fuck him, I'm gonna' win.
As my feet led me out of the corner and finally to the center of the 'ring', I continued to glare at the prisoner. I made my decision…
"Kurapika. Starting at the next minute, tell me when thirty minutes pass. When it does, I'll kill this man."
My allies made noises in protest, not happy or supportive of my decision. Leorio was the first to speak, his voice stern.
"Are you sure? Can't you knock him out?"
Killua responded, his tone neutral as he explained the situation clearly.
"That's what he's been trying to do the whole time. But now that his opponent knows his fighting style and capabilities, he's just gonna' run in circles."
The prisoner laughed.
"And why not? Your group has to pass, not mine. We don't have to win a single match to reduce our sentence. Just run out the time."
Shit. Every match will be a time-waster, huh? Well, then it's my turn to go on the offensive.
I exploded forward and reached the man in less than a second. With a step of my lead left foot, I shot out a battering ram of a jab. Stiff, powerful, and with the intention to hurt instead of to keep my opponent off-balance.
But his experience trumped my advantage in speed. He stepped in and ducked, slipping my punch and causing it to fly harmlessly over his right ear. His right arm flew around my left elbow and homed in on my left eye, like the tip of a sickle cutting wheat. His fingers were stiff and claw-like...
At the last instant, I twisted my face downward, causing his finger to hit my forehead. His nails dug into my skin and tore into my forehead as he raked them down my face, preparing to grab my left arm with his right…
But I gave as good as I got. I smashed my right forearm into his face and pushed him away. The sound of crunching bone echoed out. Blood flying out of his nose as his head snapped back, causing him to stagger away with his eyes shut.
Going with the momentum, I stepped forward with my right foot and threw a haymaker of a right cross towards his chin. My entire body weight and my superhuman strength ready to hit his chin and send him to dreamland.
When the prisoner's eyes opened, they flashed something sinister, and he grinned. With explosive speed, he sent his head forward toward my punch.
Instead of his chin, my knuckles landed on his steel-like forehead with a loud and audible thud. Pain rippled down my hand and through my wrist as momentum keep pushing the weight of my body behind my punch. I grimaced in pain, while his smile grew in response.
I growled as my wrist twisted into an awkward angle at the sudden, jerking stop. That really fucking hurt...
But that wasn't enough to stop me.
My left fist lashed out as I smashed him with a left hook to the temple that boomed throughout the chamber. Then another. Then another.
Again and again, I hit him as hard as I could with left hooks to the fucker's head. I let out my pain and anger with every hit. They weren't pretty or technical, more like smashing a brick over a person's head. I could see his eyes vibrate and shake as each hit connected, his brain bouncing around his skull.
But he wouldn't go down.
Instead, he weathered my blows, stepped forward, and grabbed my jacket.
Panic hit me as the world tilted.
He lifted me up, kicked my legs from under me, and smashed me into the stone tiles with an Osoto Gari. The impact shook my entire body, and my landing sounded like a log hitting the ground. It felt as if I got hit by a fucking truck; the air being knocked out of my lungs with extreme prejudice.
The moment my back hit the ground, my body reacted on its own. I grabbed the prisoner and threw him away from me. No fancy techniques or escapes. Just my raw strength, momentum, and pure desperation, which I used to send him flying to my left like I was tossing a blanket.
He flew through the air like a rag doll, shock clear as day in his eyes. I guess he didn't expect I was that strong.
I got up and grimaced in pain. That asshole slammed me on my bruised back and head. Pain rippled through my body, telling me to stay down. But I've been through worse.
Besides, not like I can rest or quit...
With my jaw clenched as tightly as possible, I pushed through the pain and ran towards the prisoner while he was still getting up. I had the advantage, and I would not let up.
His eyes widened as he ducked a jab I threw towards his head as he was getting up, while stuck in his crouch. That took him off guard, so he wasn't ready when I stepped in and kicked the living hell out of the back of his left knee. His leg buckled in as he fell to one knee.
Now it was his turn to grimace in pain.
My hands reached out to grab his head and knee his face into oblivion, but he rolled forward a la Dark Souls and propped himself on to his hands. With dexterity beyond what I expected of the man, he somersaulted into a kick that landed on my chest.
I grunt in pain as both his feet collided on to the unpleasant welt on my chest; the attack homing in on the spot like a fucking magnet. Electric pain shot threw me as I flew at least a meter, landed on my hip, and slid across the ground.
I slapped the ground, using my hands and shoes to skid to a stop. I gritted my teeth as I fought off the pain.
Agony was my entire world, but I concentrated and focused through it. I squinted through blurry, wet eyes. I had to keep track of him...
He twisted in the air and landed on his feet with lumbering grace. With a flash of a cruel smile, he ran towards me with his hands claw-shaped. He jumped straight at me, into a tackle that would end with him tearing out my throat.
My mind stepped back and deferred to instinct, letting my body react however it wanted. With a post of my left hand and a kick of my legs, I was suddenly doing a one-arm handstand. With all the strength in my left arm, I pushed as hard as I could and managed to clear the man's tackle attempt by flinging myself over him like a pole vaulter.
Thank you, Kalvin and Clyde...
I landed on my feet, now behind my opponent. When he turned to face me, he ducked the left hook I sent to his temple.
I knew that would miss. That was a feint.
With all the force I could generate, I pulled back my left arm, stomped my right heel into the ground, and hit him with my actual attack: a left kick to the face.
Shinbone collided with facial bones, his toughened flesh doing little to protect him as his head whipped back. His neck muscles flexed and enormous veins appeared as it fought against the force of my kick. It was like kicking an enormous tree.
My eyes widened in shock.
He was still standing.
Immediately I pulled back my leg and sent another kick, only for it to harmlessly sail over head. I almost fell over from losing my balance, but caught myself with my arms. My mind braced itself for a tackle...
He landed on the floor, face down, limp as a puppet.
I blinked in shock and stood up. My opponent was face down on the ground, not moving. I numbly shook my head and started counting with my left hand.
"One..."
"Two..."
"Thre-"
The prisoner's hands touched the ground, and he propped himself up onto his knees. He looked at me, his eyes glassy and growling like a dog.
I smashed him in the side of the ribs with a kick, like he was a soccer ball. He went rolling against the ground, his arms eventually stopping him a meter away from me. He propped himself up with one arm and on one knee, staring at me in defiance. His eyes were unfocused, but they burned with martial pride and determination...
I'll give it to him. His scars weren't for show, this guy was tough as steel.
I didn't have experience and skill like him, but I was stronger and faster. So I had to be meaner, brutal, and underhanded...
My left hand entered my suit jacket, and I pulled out my knife from under my right armpit. I slowly walked towards the prisoner with my weapon hanging low, blood coming down my face from where he ripped my forehead open with his nails.
The prisoner stared at me with distress plain in his eyes. Pride and determination in his eyes replaced by pragmatism and survival. He lifted his left hand like a crossing guard and spoke.
"W-wait a minute! We agreed, no weapons!"
I didn't stop walking as I answered like a parrot "'I'll agree, but only if you fight without that thing. Fair?'"
The prisoner spat blood from his mouth and tried talking again, but it was transparent what he was doing. He was doing his best to slow me down long enough so he could recover. Before he could speak, I cut him off with a shallow slice to left palm.
He growled before quickly standing up and stumbling back. He grabbed his left wrist in rage and pain.
"You bastard! You th-"
I raised my right hand and cut him off while I waved my knife in the air, "I'm gonna' stop you right there. I can beat you into submission with my fists. But that's gonna' take too long. So, here's your second chance: Give up now or I'll slice and stab you into submission."
He looked at me with a frown, before standing up as straight as he could on his wobbly legs. He hadn't recovered from my full-powered kick to the face and I'm going to make sure it stayed that way...
Yet, I'm impressed he could take a kick like that and be fine. Goes to show how strong and tough 'normal' people can be. Even without Aura to boost them.
The prisoner snarled, "You think I'm scared of being beaten or cut up? My sentence here is one hundred and ninety-nine y-"
The man quickly twisted his body away as I slashed diagonally towards his chest. He looked at me with fury and disgust. Like I care what he thought. I wasn't going to let him have time to rest.
He moved, ducked, and did his damndest to avoid and parry away my blade arm; while on legs that were as unsteady as an earthquake.
A stab to his right forearm, a slash to his left wrist, a cut to his chest, a puncture to his collarbone. I was cutting him up like kebab meat, dozens of bleeding cuts and gashes all over his body, but he was weathering it...
He knew I wasn't trying to kill him. I had given him only shallow cuts and flesh wounds. Worse, he was regaining the strength in his legs since I wasn't hitting him with any blunt attacks to his head...
So I did just that.
I feinted a stab to his left legs, which he tried to bat away with his left hand. That left him open for my right cross to his chin. It sounded like a baseball bat hitting a home run.
His legs went shaky as he blinked the lights out from his eyes. In his attempt to protect himself, he turned his head to his left side, trying to move away from danger. Only to meet another right cross to the chin. Again, and again. My wrist hurt, but I gritted my teeth and pushed through it. Besides, I need to KO him somehow...
The animalistic fear and panic that went through me as I kept hitting a man who refused to go down... It felt like trying to take down a mountain... or trying to punch out a zombie…
Why won't he go down?! Just go down!
Suddenly, the vision in my left eye disappeared. I stumbled to my right and touched the floor with my right hand in my mad scramble to get away. I pressed the back of my left hand onto my left eyelid. My eye stayed on the prisoner, eye wide with horror.
The prisoner stood there, the mess he was, smiling. His right nails covered in blood. Did he?...
Backing up from the prisoner, I took off my left hand...
I can see. It was just blurry. My vision was coming back, slowly. He must have hit my eye with the tips of his finger, but not his nail. The tingling sensation of frisson hit me as relief swept through me. I just escaped being blinded in one eye. Oh god, that was close...
My eyes turned back to the man, his form blurry on my left side. I could tell he was still smiling. But he looked like shit.
His jaw was crooked and swollen to the size of a grapefruit. The bridge of his nose was flat, and blood freely dripped out of his nostrils. His arms and upper body had dozens of cuts and slices on them, on top of all the bruises and welts from my punches. He was literally black, blue, and red all over.
Yet... he wasn't giving up. Damn it! Was he banking on the fact I wouldn't kill him that much?
I turned to Kurapika, "How much time has passed?"
He looked nervous. I felt nervous.
"Only ten minutes."
I wanted to curse, but I opted to stay calm.
Hell of a time to relearn and practice anger management, James...
I need to stay calm anyways, so I could think clearly. I had to figure out a way to stop this guy without him injuring me any further, while not killing him...
This guy had already tried to gouge out my eyes twice and my throat once. He was the worst opponent for a long-form exam. I didn't know how many phases of the Exam were left, but if even if there was only one more, I can't win maimed...
Also, I still didn't want to kill this asshole if I didn't have to. He was already in one of the worst prisons in the world and, weirdly, killing him would be doing him a favor. But, if I had to kill a person, a prisoner with a sentence of a hundred and ninety-nine years would be…
I sighed.
There was one last card I could play. Considering the guy couldn't move from his spot, this was the best time to experiment.
I jumped back two meters and put my hands to my sides. A sense of nervousness hit me as I felt a tingling around my body; that strange viscous liquid sensation coming from my pores.
My Aura.
It began escaping from my body, exactly like steam from a boiling pot. When I had meditated before landing, I realized what Ren from Nen of the Flames was...
When translated it meant temper. I'm positive the real Nen version means something else. But Ren can mean a lot of things. Temper can mean a lot of things. And since Aura seemed to be influenced by emotions, and I had a huge temper.
Time to use it.
I closed my eyes and remembered the training Panza gave me. The hours of visualization training and meditation on Nen of the Flames.
"You have everythin' insides ya', kid. All that trainin' Mayer whipped into you, that ain't goin' anywhere. Ya' gotta' think on what ya' gots. What ya' lackin' right now is vision, imagination! An artist sees' the thins' they draw. As real as life! To make the fund o' mentals into somethin' real!
That's what's ya' need to do: to put them kiddie blocks ya' got an' turn 'em into a castle..."
With a single thought, I pushed my anger to the brink. It wasn't hard. I had plenty of angry thoughts.
Using that as a catalyst and focus, I imagined my Aura exploding all around me. A volcanic eruption derived from rage, the very same that happened every time my Aura subconsciously flared yesterday. It was a roaring white, wispy inferno that whipped around me. I could feel the rush of strength surge through me.
When I opened my eyes, I saw the man half a meter away from me. Clawed hands outstretched and in the middle of attacking my throat. But his body was frozen in fear. All because as I did exactly what Panza taught me:
I imagined his death. The myriad of deaths I could compose. All the violent ends he could have if I didn't hold back.
Both jugulars and aortas in the neck cut open in a blink of the eyes. A stab to anywhere in the skull, but the base of the skull would end a person the quickest. Puncture the stomach, drag down, twist; he would bleed from his abdominal aorta being severed. Femoral arteries in the thighs, either side. Brachial arteries in the arms, and a little bit up, the axillary arteries in the armpits. Subclavian artery next to the neck.
Then there was the obvious: heart, lungs, throat, eye sockets...
I shoved all the pent-up frustration, rage, and my repressed intentions to kill at him. I brought it down on this poor bastard like a mountain. Just like Zhulong, Clyde, Hisoka, and my most recent example, Evira.
It was obvious in retrospect…
I could kill this man. The only reason he was alive was that I didn't.
I lifted my left hand and pointed the tip of my knife at his forehead. He walked back a meter before turning around, realizing the horrible truth.
There was nowhere to escape. We were on a stone island...
When I spoke, it was with cold, surgical fury, "You're right. I might not kill you. But, do you really want to find out what I can do with twenty minutes? Do you want to find out how soft, too soft, actually is?"
His lower jaw trembled as wide eyes saw things I could only imagine from memory. While my world was covered in a shroud of white Aura, to him, he saw and felt what I experienced every time I was on the other end...
The prisoner raised his hands in fear, "I-I forfeit."
I nodded, stopped using Ren and went directly into Zetsu. Immediately I felt intense fatigue from exerting so much Aura in such a short period of time. But that quickly went away as I felt the warm, pleasant sensation of Aura enter my body and rejuvenating me. I wasn't instantly recovered, but as before, I could feel my body recuperating much faster than normal.
Pursing my lips, I glared down at the man whose confidence I crushed with a single application of Nen. I had done in a few seconds what twenty minutes of furious fighting couldn't do.
The sound of stone grinding echoed through the chamber as retractable walkways connected the arena to the ledges on either side of the room. The prisoner staggered off, terror in his eyes from the supernatural anxiety and fear inflicted on him. I knew what he was feeling... it was like experiencing a close-call with death.
I slightly pitied him, but mostly I was indifferent. I had given him chances, but he just had to keep pushing and prodding me... besides, he'd recover.
With a quick, closed-eyed sigh and a re-holstering of my knife, I turned away and walked across the walkway, slightly slumped over from pain and fatigue. I shot my right fist in the air in triumph as a yellow '1' appeared on a black screen above my team's ledge.
I felt like hell. Blood was leaking down my face. Still, I couldn't help but smile.
"One-Zero baby! Yeah!"
My team was beaming. Gon was waving two hands in the air in celebration. Leorio had a big grin on his face, whooping and waving his arms around as well. Killua was being too cool for school with his arms behind his head, but his eyes and small smirk told the truth. Strangely, Kurapika seemed the most pleased, a relieved small on his face. He spoke first.
"I was worried you would be forced to kill your opponent. I'm glad it didn't come to that."
I nodded, "I'm glad too, 'cause I really don't want to kill anyone."
Blood stung my left eye, causing me to blink and rub my eye. How bad were my cuts?
I turned to Leorio, but he was already popping open his suitcase before I even said a word. He gestured to me to come over and to sit down. I did as instructed as he pulled out peroxide and gauze.
I quickly shot my hands up to block the pain no one gets used to: the stingy feeling of peroxide on a cut. Somehow, Leorio became a speed demon when he was providing medical attention, and avoided my arms with ease.
I did not scream like a little child. I didn't. I swear.
Leorio frowned as he continued torturing me, "Stop whining. If we don't disinfect the wound, you might get an infection. The only thing worse than a deep cut from dirty fingernails are bites. You're really lucky he didn't bite you. I've seen plenty of people lose a limb after being bitten in a bar fight."
I looked at him with morbid curiosity, "What kind of bars do you go to? Are they filled with cannibals? And aren't you nineteen?"
He grinned, "Where I come from the drinking age is sixteen. And you'd be surprised how often people bite during a brawl."
I shrugged. I rather not go to his werewolf and cannibal filled bars. What the fuck, biting? Jeez...
Kurapika spoke up, "How do his wounds look?"
"Yeah, am I still pretty?"
Leorio scoffed, "Pfft. Not like you were pretty before."
"I look better than you and younger than you. Old man. I'm ten years older than you too." Oh shit, I am. My birthday was the first of the mon-AAAHHH!
Leorio slapped a fresh, hydrogen peroxide filled piece of gauze on my cut. Extra Peroxide for the screams.
He stared at me with half-lidded eyes, "He'll be fine. They're thin, shallow cuts, so they shouldn't leave any scars. And if they do, they'll fade away with time."
I came down from my screaming agony and glared at Leorio. I don't know why alcohol on a wound hurts so damn much. I rather get punched in the face.
"You're no longer my personal physician," I grumbled.
He ignored me and went back to doctor mode, "Take off your jacket and shirt. I want to check the injuries on your body."
I frowned, but nodded. I did as told and removed my upper body wear. I heard the sounds hissing from my team's mouth as I unbuttoned my long sleeve shirt. I guess it looked just as bad as it felt. Even Leorio grimaced.
"Your body looks like a wreck. I saw you hurt your wrist during the fight, let me see."
I sighed and gave over my right hand to Doctor Leorio while Kurapika got us back on track. I noticed Killua gave me a sidelong glance, wariness in his eyes...
While Leorio was giving James a thorough examination, the bald prisoner finally arrived at his side of the chamber. His mind was reeling. His body shook and trembled with fright as he sat down against the wall of the Trick Tower, but the other prisoners dismissed him. They had been too far and lacked the sensitivity to Nen to have felt James' amateur use of Ren...
The veiled, blue-skinned prisoner named Majtani spoke, derisively.
"Heh, not so tough, are ya'? Your whole strategy failed the moment ya' fought someone stronger than you. You even gave up from a mean look!"
Bendot turned to Majtani with pure rage as he snapped out of his fugue state.
"I'm still strong enough to snap your neck..." he growled
Majtani coward back, his high-pitched yelp completely at odds with how big he was.
Another prisoner slowly walked past the two, down the walkway, and into the fighting arena. Covered in brown cloth like the rest of the prisoners, the criminal stood still as a statue as their metal restraints dropped to the floor. With a movement of their arms and flap of clothing, a beautiful young woman with pink hair and a beatific smile appeared from underneath...
She spoke with a cheerfully haughty voice and a hand casually on her waist. But her eyes were the embodiment of arrogance.
"So, who wants to go next? Take your time. I have all day..."
Author's Notes:
Hello dear readers! I hope you all are doing well and continue to do well!
My friend, The Last Bullet, has made a Hunter X Hunter fanfic called Space Oddity and has posted the first chapter on this site. It's tone is different then mine; more light-hearted and humour than my story (which is mostly drama); but I find Bullet's story very funny and enjoyable. I hope you do too. I favorited it so you can find it on my profile. Go check it out!
