A week later… 

The temple’s eerie silence filled the cold stony air, the rows of prayer mats empty as a gust of wind blew into the main hall, brushing against the stone statues that dominated the altars.  

The soft sweeps of the brooms provided the only sense of time passing in the hall, the orphans raised by the temple working hard at cleaning up. The Shaman, too, was in the main hall, but instead, he was near the main double doors, leaning against his staff and peering out of a side window onto the front porch beyond. 

His eyes landed on Chira’s men, who were clearly guarding the perimeter discreetly, lounging near the side. Two of them were continuously patrolling, as though they were chasing others away from the temple. He saw one of the gangsters threaten a noodle roadside hawker, who hurriedly pushed his cart away.  

Shaman Peris glanced down at his phone again, the screen filled with outgoing calls missed over the last three hours, all attempting to call someone called [Son] in his phonebook. He sighed once more, before calling Angelina over to him.  

“Yes, Shaman?” 

“For the time being, make sure all the kids are in the dormitory. Don’t come out to the main hall.” 

“Why, what’s wrong? How are we supposed to sweep the floor for service later?” 

“Angelina.” Shaman Peris stared at her. “Please. For me.” 

Angelina squinted her eyes in suspicion, unsure of what the Shaman was up to. She opened her mouth for a brief moment before closing it again, accepting the Shaman’s order and going about to chase all the kids who were still working around the main hall back to their rooms.  

As the Shaman was left alone in the temple, he took a look again outside. There seemed to be more and more of Mason’s gang members outside the temple. It used to be five or so, but now there were a dozen of them, seemingly harassing anyone near the temple.  

The moment the Shaman was about to try and call the number on his phone, the main double doors opened fully, Mason entering the temple in a simple black t-shirt that stretched at the brim. His eyes locked with the Shaman, before immediately heading towards a prayer mat and sitting down on it, cross-legged.  

Shaman Peris hobbled over, his staff tapping the stone floor gently as Angelina peeped over from the doorway at the back, wondering what Mason was doing here. The Shaman noticed her, motioning urgently for her to step away. 

“I was half-expecting you not to come.” Shaman Peris began, sitting down opposite Mason cross-legged as well, placing his staff down. 

“When someone rings your phone fifteen times in a row, usually it’s a sign.” 

“A sign that you should pick up.” 

“Was busy today.” 

“Too busy to ignore a call from your own father?” 

Mason scoffed. “You never talked to me when I came back to Akama, and now you’re berating me for not picking up your call? You’re the one who didn’t want to talk to me!” 

“You and I both know that that time was… difficult. Times have changed now.” The Shaman coughed, Mason rolling his eyes.  

“There you go again with the mysterious temple talk. Did you call me here just to talk about phone calls? If you got nothing else to say, I got to go.” 

“Why are you harassing the temple?” 

Mason squinted his eyes. “Harassing the temple? What do you mean?” 

“I meant exactly what I said, son. Your men have been bullying and pushing people away from the temple. If you want to extort money, you don’t have to resort to such means.” 

“You must be going crazy, old man. I’ve donated more than five thousand demas to the temple since I got back! Why in the world would I harass your temple?” 

“Your men just spooked off a noodle hawker cart on the roadside for ‘lingering around’. People are just trying to make a living and your rascals are trying to make life harder for everyone. When are you going to grow up, Mason!”] 

“You’re one to fucking talk – who used to be the biggest gang leader in Akama, huh? The underworld used to fear your name, all I’m doing is following in your footsteps.” 

“Do you really think that killing a family of five for a mere two thousand demas is ‘following in my footsteps’? Do you think being hunted across the nation for the Akama Shootout is worthy of praise.” 

“It was an accident. And I didn’t kill any of them! It was a complete accident.” Mason snarled. “My men may have fucked up, and I’ve punished them accordingly.” 

“And yet you are still protecting them!” 

“Just as you protected others in your time! I had enough of this hypocrisy. Do you really believe I’m out to hurt your temple?” Mason raised his voice, motioning towards the outside doors. “Here I am, posting men round the clock to make sure no one fucks up your temple, and instead this is the thanks I get?” 

“What thanks are you expecting from me?!” Shaman Peris did not back down. “What are you expecting to hear? The attendance rate of the temple is falling because of your men, hurting our donations and services. People do not dare to come due to the presence of your gang – others are spreading rumors that the temple is in cahoots with you.” 

“If I wanted to harass you I would have come straight to you immediately.” Mason sighed. “Look, I’m a busy man. This is obviously all a big misunderstanding. I’ll get some of my men to back off, alright.” 

“Don’t you dare leave yet, young man. I haven’t even finished a tenth of what I want to say to you. Don’t think that I don’t know that today is the finals of the underground tournament.” 

“How did you-“ 

“Rumors spread far and wide, kid. Especially when someone wears a temple mask to fight.” 

“The mask is generic. It could be from any other temple outside of town.” 

“Stop changing the subject. What exactly are you doing to Sel?” 

“I’m giving him the tools to succeed in life.” 

“By making him a criminal?” 

“YOU!” Mason suddenly burst out in fury. “YOU MADE ME A CRIMINAL TOO! Do you remember the days when I had to skip school at the age of eight, just to head over to the crack house to buy both you and Mother’s fix for the day? Do you remember me cleaning up the needles from the night before? When I had to clean and cook the house because both you and Mother were both shivering in bed, suffering from addiction?” 

“I…” 

“You don’t get to say anything! Now that you turned over a new leaf, you think you’re the king of morality. Want me to bring up every drugs run you made me do? Every shoplifting run I had to do to make ends meet? When I was too ashamed to speak up when my friends asked me what do my parents do for a living? ‘Oh, my dad’s a drug lord who got too caught up in his own product’.” 

“Mason, if you know what happened in the past, then why are you repeating it onto Sel now? You know that the path is not right!” 

“I’m different from you, Dad.” Mason adjusted his shirt and pants, standing up. “I wouldn’t ask him to kill a man for me.” 

Shaman Peris was fuming as well, but couldn’t say anything in response, only watching as Mason turned to leave the temple.  

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure Sel doesn’t get too deep myself.” Mason spoke quietly, walking towards the door when the double doors suddenly open once more, an unexpected guest entering the temple.  

“Oh, I can’t let that happen.” The guest grinned, five more gangsters flanking him and entering the temple.  

“What the fuck is this, Chira?” Mason squinted his eyes at his vice-boss, who had the widest smirk from cheek to cheek.  

“Just a regular check-up. You know, making sure business is normal.” Chira nonchalantly yawned as the five gangsters sauntered up to the Shaman, attempting to grab him.  

As soon as one of the gangsters lunged out, Shaman Peris flicked his staff upwards, jabbing the sharp end right into the guts of the gangster, causing him to topple backwards in pain. “Stay back!” Shaman Peris warned as he quickly stood up, his staff wielded against the gangsters slowly inching forward.  

“Chira!” Mason roared, about to turn and attack the gangsters when he heard the sound of a pistol clicking, turning to see the barrel aimed right at him.  

“Can’t have you fumbling up the finals today, isn’t that right, boys?” Chira motioned with his hand beyond the door, prompting the remainder of the gangsters outside to swarm into the main hall, surrounding the Shaman and Mason. “Now you better not move a single inch unless you want to see your dad get a bullet in his head. Make them kneel!”  

The gangsters moved as ordered, half of them wielding pistols and holding them steady at the Shaman and Mason. With no guns of their own, Mason relcutlanty raised his hands in surrender, earning a kick to the back of his knee that forced him to collapse onto the prayer mat below.  

Shaman Peris too was pinned down, the gangsters knocking the staff out of his hand and forcing him to kneel.  

“You three, go to the dormitory and make sure none of the staff squeal. Destroy all their handphones and any landlines, no information gets out except through us. Grab Mason’s phone” Chira barked orders, the gangsters moving in.  

Mason lashed out at the nearest approaching gangster, about to enter a rampage when a loud bang rang out, a searing hole torn through his thighs as blood gushed out immediately, his legs losing balance. His phone clattered out of his pocket, sliding towards Chira, who picked it up gently before tapping on it rapidly. 

Mason didn’t bother asking Chira why he was doing any of this, immediately understanding what he was aiming for. “You’re crazy – the police will be onto us in the blink of an eye.” 

“Idiot! You’ve grown soft after crawling like a dog in the underground for too long. What’s the point of a gang if we can’t rule both the day and the night? If the law comes, we’ll make our own rules.” Chira chuckled, waving his pistol around.  

“You think just a backpack of guns is going to stop the police? Sooner or later the administration will send in the special forces!” 

“If a tree falls in a forest, but no one is there to hear it, who would ever know?” 

*** 

Sel paced the waiting room quietly, him and the other gang members in the waiting room. “Where the hell is Mason? The final match is about to start soon!” 

“Boss said he was going to be busy. He just sent a message saying he’ll only be here for the last round.” 

Sel frowned, assuming that Mason was still furious at him for nearly killing Ripper in the semifinals. I don’t need him. I can do this myself. Sel grabbed the vial of Vaseline, dabbing it all over his face himself before stomping out furiously towards the chalk ring, two gang assistants trailing behind him.  

[AND IT’S THE FINALS YOU’VE ALL BE WAITING FOR: APEX VS SHAMAN! ONE KNOW FOR SHEER DOMINANCE, THE OTHER FOR SHEER RESILIENCE! AN UNSTOPPABLE FORCE MEETS AN IMMOVABLE OBJECT! WHO WINS? BET NOW!] 

The crowd was now in full support of Sel, nearly nine-tenths of the audience having betted on him. His miracle run was the talk of the underground, his name spoken in whispers everywhere. Even the owner of the tournament was present, sitting at a VIP seat near the top and staring down at Sel with an unemotional gaze. 

Sel ignored the deafening cheers of the crowd, already second nature to him. He no longer felt like an amateur to the ring, the scent of dust, blood and grimy sweat familiar. The cogagulating feel of Vaseline slabbed on his face, along with the cool breeze vibrating from the stomps of the crowd whistling past his ears were all common to him now.  

The world seemed to narrow in focus, Sel hardly paying attention to the screams and introduction of the announcers for him. Instead, his vision tunneled in on the approaching opponent: Apex. Yet something felt ridiculously off to him.  

Did this guy make it to the finals? Sel was baffled as to how weak the guy looked, nearly skin and bones as though he had zero muscles. It was not even a case of ‘lanky’ limbs – Apex was shorter than Sel. Is this a joke? 

Apex threw his hands up in the air, only earning jeers and booes as he heckled back at the crowd, as though it was a wrestling match, a show match, riling up the crowd. Sel’s confusion only increased when he saw Apex nearly trip over himself while prancing around the ring.  

“Sel, Boss told me to hand you this earpiece. He’s busy right now, but he will watch it remotely and talk to you.” 

“Got it.” Sel placed the wireless earpiece in his ear, calmly walking into position ready to fight.  

[LET THE FINALS BEGIN!] 

Sel moved forward fast, his explosive speed trained over the months to be quicker than expected, catching the fumbling Apex off-guard. With a single blow, Apex earned a straight fist to his unguarded stomach, causing him to gag and choke on his own saliva from the immense pain, immediately crumpling to the floor. 

[MY GOD, IS IT A ONE-HIT KNOCKOUT?] 

Sel was about to rush forward to pounce on Apex, but recalled Mason’s words, holding himself back. He watched as Apex recovered slowly, but despite the brutal hit, Apex had a wide grin on his face, as though Sel had fallen into his trap.  

The smile irked Sel, prompting to move forward again to deliver a punch, but this time Apex dodged it with ease, as though he had spent five years dodging such a move with elegance.  

Each punch, jab, kick and grapple Sel tried, Apex could predict and avoid with the slightest movement. It was as though Sel’s entire movement set had been seen through, all his ticks and habits exposed for all to see.  

He’s reading all my moves! Sel tried to switch it up, but it was hard to break habit mid-fight. Apex could read the movements beforehand, parrying and dodging with a wide grin on his face. “Think you’re the shit?” 

“Of course I’m the shit!” Sel bellowed, throwing what seemed to be a weak jab. Apex smirked as he raised his arm to block it, only to feel a blunt metal force smashed right into his arm, nearly fracturing his forearm.  

With Apex reeling from the sudden strong hit, Sel quickly rushed forward, not giving Apex a room to breath. Breath. Rock Solid every five seconds. Channel Resurgence every ten seconds for three seconds to stem bleeding and build stamina.  

Just as Sel was about to deliver another kick, a familiar voice echoed into the earpiece, right into his brain.  

[Sel. Throw the match.] 

The sudden suggestion threw Sel into a loop, allowing Apex to counter with a kick of his own and slamming Sel into the ground with a thud, the crowd erupting in a loud gasp.  

[THE SHAMAN IS DOWN AGAIN, BUT HE ALWAYS GETS UP! TEN!] 

Sel gritted his teeth as he struggled to get up, his mind racing. There was no way for him to reply to the earpiece  - it had no mic. All he could do was listen to the voice.  

[Throw the match, or I kill the Shaman.] 

Sel’s heart nearly stopped for a moment. Chira, you bastard!  

[NINE!] 

[Don’t test me, Sel. Throw the match now – stay down.] 

His mind racing, Sel’s eyes darted around, looking for help. Yet both his assistants were already gone. As he glanced up to the VIP seat, he could only see the owner of the tournament grinning down at him.  

[EIGHT!] 

[What would it be, Sel? Winning? Or the Shaman’s life?] 

For a brief moment, only winning was on Sel’s mind, the adrenaline of the fight already coursing through him. My life, my choice! 

Just as he was about to stand back up, he faltered for a moment, the memories of his childhood surfacing again.  

The birthday parties that the Shaman had thrown for him, the concern that he had shown and the support for his scholarship, all of it coming to the forefront. Sel shook his head for a brief moment, snapping out of the sheer hubris that he had lost himself in.  

[SEVEN!] 

[Last call, Sel.] 

As Sel looked around the arena, trying to see if there was anyone around that could help him. Instead, he locked eyes with Felicia, his very own sister yelling and cheering him on, waving a betting ticket alongside Gideon, both of which were fully engrossed in the chanting.  

[SIX!] 

“GET BACK UP, YOU IDIOT! WE BETTED EVERYTHING ON YOU!” Felicia roared, but Sel couldn’t hear it, only watching her mouth move, the words drowned out by the sheer volume of the crowd around. What the fuck is Felicia doing here? 

[FIVE!] 

Sel clenched his fist, trapped in indecision. His mind went through all the possibilities, the consequences of him throwing the match. He looked once again at the panicking faces of Felicia and Gideon.  

[FOUR!] 

Apex was already taunting Shaman, parading around his fallen body. Each footstep thud sent waves through Sel’s body, each thud reminding him of how far he had come. 

[Sel. Don't make this harder than it needs to be. Throw. The. Match.] 

[THREE!] 

Sel closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.  

[TWO!] 

[Good boy.] 

[ONE!] 

With a sudden surge of energy, Sel recovered with a swirling twist of his legs, standing upright and immediately lunging at the gloating Apex, instantly delivering three straight blows into Apex’s face before he could even react.  

The force of the blows was immense, unlike anything Sel had thrown in his life, all of his strength behind it as he roared out a battle cry. In one fell swoop, Apex was sent flying beyond the ring, tumbling out of the ring in a trail of blood that arced across the flabbergasted audience. Crashing into a barrier nearby, his arms slumped, his body unmoving from the sheer concussive power.  

Before the announcer could even react, Sel was already on the move, rushing out from the ring towards the waiting room.  

[Looks like you got some guts kid. Too bad it was the wrong move, Sel.] 

The last thing Sel heard on the earpiece was a resounding gunshot, drowned out by the frenized crowd calling for more blood.