Drew
The screw shot, that was my signature move in the octagon. A hybrid between a jab and an uppercut, delivered with a slight twist at the end, the screw shot penetrates the opponent’s high guard, threading through to land a powerful jab almost impossible to defend against. A nuanced and technical move, it’s not a powerful punch at all, but landing it disrupts the opponent’s defense, creating openings for more damaging blows.
Revelator, this guy’s defenses is tight. It seems wherever I throw a punch or a kick, his shield is right there to intercept it. But here is where that defense crumples.
Set up the shot through feints; throw a couple of jabs to get him used to a certain rhythm and defensive response. Then, just as he’s expecting another jab—
POW!
Screw shot! My fist sails right past his shield and connects with his face. Not a lot of damage with that one, but it’s thrown off his rhythm and disrupted his confidence. There! Another opening!
Pow, pow!
It’s all about body language, misdirection. Feint left, take a small step to the right. The slight change in angle makes all the difference in a screw shot.
Pow!
Rip!
What the? Did this guy just fart? In the middle of our match?! Now I’m the one thrown off. I could have sworn that last blow was going to connect, but instead it seemed to faze right through him. And now he’s back to blocking my every blow!
What the heck?? Fighting this guy is like sparring against a brick wall! He still hasn’t hit me even once, and yet my health continues to drain with each second.
[-14 HP]
[-14 HP]
No, this can’t be happening. I can’t lose my streak to some nobody kid—I was almost to 400 straight victories!
It all flashes before me then. My career, all my shitty luck. The stupid, ill-timed injuries right before big fights, fighting anyway, having my ass handed to me. The ire of the crowd, and then, worse, their indifference. There’s nothing more terrifying than that.
I can see it now, all my MeTube fame disappearing in a single day. Views sinking, hate comments, no comments…
[-14 HP]
[HP critically low!]
[-14 HP]
Not like this! Not like this!!
It’s this kid, his aura—got to get away from it! I step to the side and start to run past him. Maybe outside of a certain range, my regeneration at least will pick up. Yeah, that’s it, regroup, rethink my strategy, but for now—just run!
I’m pulling away from him, I’ve got to break free from his aura any moment now. But just as I’m putting my foot down, the ground tremors in a brief but powerful quaking motion, throwing me off balance. My foot lands wrong, my ankle turns painfully. I fall with an embarrassing cry, as the last of my HP drains to 0 in his aura.
[LOSER]
Whoa. I think I might have just hit a Hard Reset…
Stunned, for a minute I can do nothing but lie there. Then I become aware of a shadow looming over me. Looking up, I see Revelator bending down, his hand extended.
With a grunt I accept, and haul myself up. I glare down at him and he winces, shying away slightly. Timid little guy. Heh. Heh heh.
Without really knowing why, I throw my head back and laugh.
“Bahahahaha!”
Just then, a soothing green light envelopes me, warm and tingly. I can feel all my aches and pains dissolving in it, and I watch a little fascinated as my health fills back up. I look to the scrawny boy with the glasses who’s holding his hand out to me.
“How’d you do that?”
“I’m a Druid,” he says as though that’s suppose to mean something to me. “Haven’t you heard of healing spells?”
I shake my head. “I don’t really know much about other characters, or games in general,” I admit. “So there was an ability like this,” I say, holding out my hand to watch the last of the green vaporous energy dissolve, leaving me at full health.
“You’ve really been playing this whole time without even knowing about healing magic?” Revelator asks, stunned. “Then, that must be why you don’t use skills while fighting! You don’t know how to use them, right? I can show you if you like—”
Stolen novel; please report.
I hold up my hand for silence, “Easy, there. I know about my own skills, at least. I just think I’m stronger without them.”
“But with skills, you could do special moves, more damage.”
“I said I don’t need em,” I say stubbornly. “A man’s gotta fight with his own strength, or the fight doesn’t mean anything at all.”
“So manly…” says Revelator, and the skinny guy Sherbie echoes him, both clearly impressed.
“I swore on day one I’d play this game my way, without using any gimmicks or special game-designed finishing moves. Not only is it going beyond my ability, the moves just interrupt my rhythm, slow me down.”
“Beyond your ability?”
“Yeah. I don’t want to be able to do anything I couldn’t do in real life.”
“But surely you’re stronger in the game than you are in real life.”
“Heh. Not by much, kid,” I boast shamelessly, though I know better than anyone I surpassed my physical limits a long time ago in this game, and I expect I’ll only get stronger from here.
“But you are stronger in TC?” he presses me.
“Yeah, I guess so. Say, what’re you getting at?”
“So you’re ok with being stronger, so long as you’re not doing any kind of crazy magic-coded move?”
“Sure. No supernatural Mortal Kombat bullshit. Just real moves.”
“Then, you’d be ok using a skill if it was passive?”
I look at Revelator suspiciously. “What’s that mean?”
“Passive skills are just always on. They might give you an increase to one of your stats, or maybe add a little extra damage to your strikes or something…”
“Oh. Yeah, like the kind I get from smoking,” I say, pulling out a cigarette just cuz I can, lighting it and taking a long drag.
[The Gentleman’s Roll: +1 to all stats
Duration reset to 20 minutes]
“These make me a bit stronger.”
“Yeah. Hey, mind if I look at your character screen?”
“Knock yourself out.”
[Character name: Bruiser9000
Level: 17
Race: Human
Class: Brawler
Subclass: Martial Arts Expert
HP: 834
Constitution: 36
Strength: 36
Agility: 36
Intelligence: 10
Luck: -
Skills: Boar’s Constitution (6), Concussive Blow (5), Elephant’s Strength (6), Fists of Steel (10), Precise Strike (9), Puma’s Alacrity (6), Ravens Acuity (6), Skull of Iron (4), Super Tough Muscles (8), Swiftness (6), The Gentleman's Roll (11)
(total armor 673)
—Reputation—
Hell/Heaven: -5
Gentlemen’s Club: 30
Cello Mercenary Guild: 51]
“You actually have quite a few passive skills,” he remarks. “You sure you’ve never gamed before? This is a pro build.”
Well, I know how to read skill descriptions before I take them at least. How else would I sign UFC contracts? But it’s reassuring to hear this guy tell me I’ve got a good character build, since I’ve kind of just been going on gut instinct till now.
“Yeah, you’ll be an amazing addition to the guild!” Revelator is saying. “Hang on, I’ll just send the invite.”
Invite? What’s he talking about?
[Revelator has sent you an invitation.
Would you like to join The Whales guild?
Yes — No]
Oh, shit. The terms of the duel. I’d completely forgotten.
“Hey, you wouldn’t care to change the bet, would you? I’ve got 42 gold.”
“Earlier you said you’d bet me 100 gold.”
“Eh heh heh… Yeah, I tend to make big bets like that to get the viewer’s attention, but…”
“Sorry, but the terms of our duel were clear. Sherbie witnessed it.”
“Huh?” The little guy jumps. “Oh, yeah. You said you’d join if you lost.”
I heave a long sigh. Guess I did make that deal. But what the hell was I thinking? It’ll ruin the Bruiser’s reputation if he joins a guild! They know Bruiser as a lone wolf, as the rebel going against the system.
“If you’re worried about people knowing you’ve joined a guild—” Revelator speaks up, and instantly he’s grabbed my attention. What is this guy, some kind of mind reader? “Here on your system screen, there’s an option for streamers to hide their guild. It’s probably to protect their privacy, prevent stalkers. I’d prefer if you checked it too,” he says, and I suddenly get the impression he’s a very serious guy. “Since I don’t want people joining the guild just to fawn over their favorite celebrity.”
“But doesn’t it help your guild out if there’s more members?”
“It does, but I’d rather have a strong small guild than a worthless big one.”
I’ve got to respect that kind of determination. The kid’s gutsy, I’ll give him that. No, he’s downright manly. I guess I could follow a guy like that. Even if he is still a kid…
[Would you like to join The Whales guild?
Yes — No]
Yes.
“Guess I’m a Whale, now. What a lame name.”
“You sure you’re ok with it? Joining like this, losing to a guy like me?”
“To be honest, I feel about as bad as I’d feel if I lost a fight against a brick wall,” I say. “It was a frustrating battle, but I think there’s a lot you could teach me. Spar with me once a day, alright? That’s my condition for joining the guild,” I put out my hand and Revelator clasps it.
“Agreed.”
“Great,” I growl, excited by the prospect, and forgetting my strength for a moment, fairly crush the kid’s hand. To his credit he doesn’t whimper, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he peed himself a little. I laugh at the thought and release him.
“No, I don’t feel bad losing to a guy like you, though, my fans won’t be happy. Such an unglamorous battle; this is not the way they wanted to see Bruiser9000 break his win streak.”
“Were you streaming our fight live?”
“Well, no, but—”
“Then just don’t upload it. They don’t have to know you lost.”
I consider his tempting suggestion. Consider it very seriously. Then I shake my head.
“No. A loss is a loss. I wouldn’t be a man if I couldn’t admit it. Bruiser broke his win streak today, on fight 399.”
“Alright, but you just have to break it, right? It doesn’t necessarily have to be against me.”
“What are you suggesting?”
“I have this idea,” says Revelator, frowning in concentration. “Harrietta sees Sherbie as her son; earlier when she attacked you it had to be because he was sitting in her pouch. So if he’s mounted and you threaten him…”
Subscribers to Bruiser9000 that day refreshed MeTube to find a thumbnail of their hero in the headlock of a sexy shesquatch in short shorts and a tied flannel crop top with the caption UTTER DEFEAT below his purple, bulging face. Rather than a mount, they billed Harrietta as the druid’s companion, so for all intents and purposes the fight—and the loss—was legit.
So Bruiser got his ass handed to him for the second time that day, more brutally than anyone could have ever predicted. But that was alright, because every drop kick, every single crushing pile drive was caught in glorious high resolution, and edited so that not a single bone crunching blow was missed. The video soared to 4 million views in twenty-four hours, with many of the comments urging their hero not to give up after such a crushing defeat, but to start his win streak again from scratch, and go for a thousand this time.
“Don’t you worry! The big man might lose a fight now and again, but he doesn’t stay down! This isn’t the end of my PVP career, this is just the beginning! So get ready for me to lock in with this next fight, and send my opponent flying with a HARD RESET! YEAH!!!!”
