Chapter 186 – Blood Sport
141 0 1
X
Reading Options
Font Size
A- 15px A+
Width
Reset
X
Table of Contents
Loading... please wait.

The fighters entered the ring to the sound of raucous applause and aggressive heavy metal music. They looked like prisoners taking a break from their sentences: muscular builds, shaved heads, tattoos, and expressions vacant of any emotion. Donning little more than black shorts and hand wraps, they examined each other for weaknesses to exploit like a pair of wild animals. The crowd, whooping and hollering, waved betting tickets and bills in the air. It was loud, it was dark, and it was warm. And it stank.

Miss Planner took in the scene with quiet detachment. As much as she wanted to lose herself in the moment, relax, enjoy herself a little... she couldn't help but feel a little nauseous. She felt stifled by the damp heat and stale, recycled air of the tiny arena. It was more like a gymnasium than an arena, really. A dingy gym with a sticky, dirty wooden floor, cheap metal bleachers that creaked and rattled in the hot breeze coming from the big ventilation ducts on the wall, and three dozen sweaty, disheveled people staring down at the ring in the center with bloodshot eyes and crazed grins.

There was nothing Miss Planner liked about this place. If she wasn't getting paid to look for ways to save the Knife Slaves' sinking ship, she would've just left. But she was a professional, and she had a job to do. So the little manager pulled out her notepad, took a deep, calming breath, and tried her best to ignore the unpleasant odor of spilled beer and unwashed male bodies. It wasn't that much worse than Black Smoke's condo, really. Other than the noise. That music was really starting to get on her nerves.

"This next fight's going to be a good one," whispered the Knife Maniac in Miss Planner's ear, gently nudging her in the side. "The guy on the left's the most popular fighter here. His name's Stone Face. Or Stoney. He's tough. He doesn't give up easy. We say he has heart."

"He certainly looks scary," murmured Miss Planner.

"And he's up against a newcomer," continued the Knife Maniac, excitement in her voice. "That's Greco. Or Gecko. I haven't seen him fight yet. But supposedly, he has this special claw strike move that he always uses. Oh... did I forget to mention? The rule here is if you have some kind of weird fighting style, you have to show it off in the ring. Otherwise, you don't get invited to come back."

"Claw strikes? You mean, he holds his fingers out when he's...?"

"Yeah. Doesn't sound too effective, to tell you the truth. This shouldn't be too tough for old Stoney. Unless Gecko has, like, crazy grip strength or he goes for the eyes or something. Hey, can't judge until we see the match, right?"

"It sounds kind of like the kind of move a woman would use against a mugger..." said Miss Planner quietly to herself, a little frown on her face as she scribbled a quick note on her notepad. 'If you have a gimmick, you have to use it. Branding is everything in this day and age.'

"Probably won't work," muttered the Knife Maniac. "Stoney, yeah, well..."

She trailed off as the bell sounded to signal the start of the fight. Gecko crouched in a wide stance with his fists up high, ready for anything Stoney might try. The crowd hooted and slammed their fists on the metal bleachers in anticipation. Not daring to watch too closely, Miss Planner scanned the arena and spotted a small knot of bored women in sweatsuits who seemed more interested in their phones than the action below them. She couldn't imagine why anyone would choose to spend their time in an environment such as this if they weren't going to get their money's worth. But it wasn't like she was really watching the fight herself, either.

'Maybe I should get another hot dog,' she thought absently, flipping through her notebook. 'I wonder if they have spicy ones?'

A flash of movement in the ring caught her attention. It was Gecko! He was coming at Stoney fast and hard, grasping and not quite grabbing. His opponent was moving with equal energy but no discernible plan beyond 'avoid the claw.' It was a little odd to see Stoney on the defensive given how much of a favorite he was to win. But it didn't look like it was going to matter much. Gecko's attacks weren't connecting. Miss Planner had a feeling he was going to wear himself out soon enough. Then Stoney would smack him around a little until the referee stepped in and stop the fight.

A little bored, a little disgusted, Miss Planner returned her focus to her notebook, a small black thing she'd filled up with notes and diagrams and charts describing the Knife Slaves' problems: a poor brand image, little to no investment in improving the customer experience, a disappointingly limited selection of high margin products, and, most troublingly, no particular strategy in the works to turn things around. Other than hiring her, she supposed. Miss Planner quickly penned another note. 'Heart isn't enough to beat the odds. A business needs a plan.'

"Oh, that looks like it really hurts... Gecko's getting pummeled!" chirped the Knife Maniac, delighted, as a series of loud smacks echoed throughout the arena. Indeed, Gecko was down on the ground, arms wrapped around his head, getting stomped on and kicked around the ring by Stoney. Miss Planner felt sick again as the crowd went wild with applause. The referee wasn't stopping the fight. It looked like he wasn't going to call it until Gecko surrendered or got beaten senseless, and by the looks of things, he wasn't giving in.

Was this what the Knife Maniac meant by 'heart?' A stubborn refusal to accept defeat gracefully? Miss Planner bit her pen a few times, deep in thought. Then, wearing her best imitation of Stone Face's expression of grim determination, she wrote a few more words in her notebook. 'If you give the competition a chance, they’ll step all over you. Step on them first.'

1