"Are you ready to dance, brochacho?" Ringo called, with a Wild West stance.
Tanaka lowered his stance, breathing in deep. "Si, partner."
The bell rang and their battle began.
Ringo moved first. His feet barely touched the dirt before he was in front of Tanaka, arm snapping out, Ringo slightly hitting his jaw. The air buckled where his punch passed, a warped shimmer like heat rising off stone.
Tanaka sidestepped.
Or tried to.
The shimmer followed him.
The impact came a split second later, invisible and delayed, like the bunch had been stored and then released within him.
Tanaka gritted his teeth as the blow caught his ribs. "Ow. Okay… that's new."
Everyone in the arena knew the basics: if you were blessed with prana, you could channel it into your body. It strengthens your limbs, sharpening your reflexes. That was stage 1, called prana flow, and it was the great equaliser. Every trained fighter here could leap higher, hit harder and react faster than any human who wasn't blessed.
But past that… things got strange.
A few, through either sheer will or breaking point moments, awakened their stage 2, Soul Arts; these are only accessible when awakened, and they call for you. These were as unique as fingerprints, shaped by the user's nature, dreams and deepest desires. One fighter might summon storms; another might turn shadows into weapons.
A few believe that there is a 3rd stage, but it has not been proven or known by most.
Tanaka flicked his wrist; the pink card appeared between his fingers, ready for Ringo's next attack, but Ringo was already grinning wide.
"Have you ever heard of The Echo Fists, amigo?"
Tanaka understood what he was saying; this was his soul art. From the name of his art, Tanaka derived what he thinks it might be.
Ringo's punches didn't hit you once; they hit you twice. First in the moment, and then again seconds later, with every ounce of stored force slamming back into the exact same spot again.
Tanaka dodged the first strike, but a heartbeat later, his jaw jerked sideways from the delayed echo. He had forgotten about it.
He stumbled, his vision flashing.
Killing is not allowed in the tournament; however, if they 'accidentally' die, they are not condemned.
Ringo advanced, seizing the opportunity. Chaining blows. The first impact knocked Tanaka back, the second slamming him into the air before he could regain his footing. Each time, the grin never left his face.
If one of those delayed hits catches me in the head… I'm done.
Tanaka hit the dirt hard, gasping. His red card wouldn't help in this situation right now; he couldn't use it, at least for now. The green card might buy him some space from him, but from what Tanaka noticed, Ringo's timing was too chaotic to predict.
Another blow came, the first impact grazing his shoulder. The second one will…
Tanaka's eyes flicked to the pink card in his hand. An idea, stupid but dangerous. His kind of idea.
As Ringo stepped in for the next blow, Tanaka deliberately let the first punch connect clean to his chest.
Even though it was small, the crowd roared from surprise.
One heartbeat later, before the second echo hit, Tanaka flicked the pink card onto the sand behind Ringo. The moment the delayed force triggered, he teleported… switching places with the card.
The echo slammed into empty air where Tanaka had been and instead smashed into Ringo's unguarded back with his own stored power.
Tanaka was breathing heavily at this point.
Ringo stumbled forward with a strange laugh, the grin twisting into something feral. "Oh, you're clever."
Tanaka twirled a green card into his hand, smirking despite the ache in his rib, jaw and shoulders. "You haven't seen anything yet, brochacho."
Ringo rolled his shoulders, still grinning, but there was a twitch.
"I got to admit, I didn't think you would take my punch and hit me by dodging it."
Tanaka gave him a lazy salute with the green card. "What can I say? I'm a crowd-pleaser."
The announcer's voice was a faint, excited blur in the background. The real noise was the crowd. The gasps when Tanaka vanished, the laughter when Ringo got nailed, the mounting rhythm of their chants.
Alright, Tanaka. He thought. You've got his attention. Now make it stick.
Ringo surged forward again, his footwork almost playful, skipping, darting and feinting, but every movement carried the threat of that delayed pain. He fired off two quick jabs. Tanaka slipped the first and slapped a green card to Ringo's wrist.
Ringo looked at Tanaka while he winked back while jumping backwards.
A crackle of green energy webbed between them, linking fighter to fighter. Ringo didn't notice until he swung for Tanaka's head. The moment his fist moved forward, the tether yanked Tanaka's body toward him, but Tanaka had expected it. He rode the pull, sliding under Ringo's guard.
"Red time," Tanaka whispered.
The red card appeared in his other hand, already primed. He slapped it onto Ringo's belt mid-slide. The card glowed faintly, waiting for Tanaka's will to trigger it. But activating it point-blank would be suicide.
So he didn't. Not yet.
Instead, Tanaka cut the green tether, kicked backwards, and flicked the pink card behind Ringo again.
"Come here, partner," Tanaka taunted.
Ringo bit, lunging in with another heavy swing.
At the last instant, Tanaka triggered the pink card, swapping places with it. Now he was behind Ringo… and just far enough away.
He made the shape of a gun and aimed at Ringo and said "bang", and the red card detonated.
A flash. A deep, concussive whump. Dust blasted out in a wide circle, the shockwave rattling the arena boards. The explosion wasn't lethal; Tanaka had dialled the force to bruise, not break, but it was enough to send Ringo skidding forward, tumbling to his knees.
When the dust settled, the silver-haired fighter was still grinning… but it was the grin of someone who'd just been outplayed.
"You're… a slippery one." He coughed, brushing soot off his gloves. "Guess the muleta drops here, mi amigo."
As he drops backwards.
The bell rang.
The crowd exploded, chanting Tanaka's name in a rolling wave.
Tanaka offered Ringo a hand up, which he took with a chuckle. "Not bad, Showman. Not bad at all."
"Next time, maybe I'll charge into you next time," Tanaka said, turning toward the curtain where his friends waited.
Roy was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, nodding faintly. Kieran gave a slow clap. Brock just shook his head.
"Thought you were going to die in there," Brock muttered.
But then the facade broke.
"Bro, I thought I was also going to die as well," Tanaka said, still feeling the ache in his ribs, still buzzing from the fight. "Goddamn, this hurts so much."
The noise didn't die down. It grew. By the time Tanaka stepped off the platform, the air was thick with chants.
"SHOWMAN! SHOWMAN! SHOWMAN!"
A few kids in the front row waved makeshift playing cards they'd scrawled with red and green marker, shouting his name until their voices cracked. The arena staff practically had to push the crowd back as he passed.
The announcer's voice thundered from the side:
"An unbelievable display of improvisation, folks! Tanaka Ewu advances with a clean victory!"
The backstage hallway smelt of dust and adrenaline. Fighters and handlers moved like currents in a stream, some congratulating, others sizing up potential threats.
A small projection orb in the corner flared to life, broadcasting the updated tournament bracket. Tanaka glanced at it as he walked, only to pause when he saw the position.
He was pushed straight into the main tournament since he showed outstanding performance, meaning that he doesn't have to participate in the setup tournament to guarantee his place.
But it wasn't just their position that caught his attention. Several names near the top had little golden stars beside them, a sign of 'spotlight targets'. Fighters who drew massive crowd interest and, therefore, more sponsorship money… and more dangerous matchups have already been guaranteed their spot in the main tournament.
And there it was.
Tanaka Ewu — *
Roy raised an eyebrow when he noticed it. "You do realise that means every lunatic in the tournament is going to gun for you now, right?"
Tanaka grinned, flipping a red card between his fingers. "Good. I'll simply just go boom."
Before they could head out, a shadow crossed the hallway. A tall woman in an elegant black coat stepped from the opposite corridor, her heels clicking against the stone. She looked them over with a cool smile, the kind of smile that made the air feel colder.
"Impressive," she said, her voice smooth as glass. "But tricks can only get you so far, Showman. I wonder… What will you do when the stage lights turn into fire?"
She didn't wait for an answer, just walked past, leaving the faint scent of iron in her wake.
Tanaka twirled his card once more. "Guess I'll have to improvise."
As he looks back to have a quick peek at her booty. He is just a boy, after all.