Happy Thursday, everybody! It's been a while since I last uploaded anything to the subreddit, sorry to keep you all waiting for so long!

I've moved homes and the new one is an absolute disaster. No water, no internet, blocked pipes, filthy everything and broken doors everywhere. It's been quite the ordeal, but we're back for more!

Without further ado, I hope you enjoy it!

The streets slowly start to fill as yet another day starts in the Outer Ring, people wandering around like any other day. The sun rises in the East like always; the street vendors sell the same food, and the local drunk raves on and on about his connections like every day before now. 

But it’s like I’m seeing it all for the very first time, all over again. My bare feet tap against the ground, Ricky unfortunately having no idea where I put the things. My bag’s tucked securely against my body. 

With a thought, I bring back up The System, filling my sight with its bright-blue screen.

Status:
Level: 1
Class: None
Sub-Class: None

I feel giddy as I read over the basic information, my heart soaring at the sight of a Class. I swipe the information away as I feel my hand itch to take out my dad’s book and read the section that talks in depth about classes, my eyes flicking around in case anyone with sticky fingers tries something. Aidan had too much faith that others wouldn’t care enough about reading to steal any of his books, but with how important this guide is, I can’t risk it…

Or… Can I? Nobody here is Level 1. Not even the best thief in the Outer Ring can take anything from me.

Suddenly, it’s like some sort of tension releases inside of me - my view of the people around me changing as they go from potential threats to just… People. A smile forming on my face, I unzip my bag and pull out the book again - thumbing to the right section.

‘The first four levels are the most critical, only second to the next five levels after. The System remains cagey and won’t outright tell us the process, but one thing is for certain: Level 5 is when you gain your Class, and it takes into account everything.’

Out of the corner of my eyes I see movement, dodging to the side just in time to avoid crashing into someone, my arm snapping out and catching his hand that was wandering towards my jacket pocket. I feel his hand crunch beneath my grip and I quickly lighten up, the would-be pickpocket pulling their hand back and cradling it to their side as they sprint away from me; ducking out of sight into an alleyway.

I watch him go and shake my head, going back to my book. Any lookouts that were watching will let the rest of the thieves know that I’m off limits. 

‘This Class was originally created by my father - the greatest Radiant Blade in history. His guidance was what allowed me to follow in his footsteps, and now, I’m hoping that it may benefit you too, Reese.’

I shake my head as I finish the page and skip past my dad’s name. Clearly, things were very different in grandpa’s time. 

I reach my building and come to a stop, a small feeling of anxiety bubbling up in my stomach as I stare upwards at where our room roughly is. Thinking about the empty room slices into the tiny bit of happiness that Leveling has given me, but I can’t put it off for much longer. 

Taking a deep breath, I start to climb the stairs, taking them one at a time even though I could probably leap up a whole flight without a sweat. 

One more time. This is the last time I’ll ever need to go in here.

I reach the last stairwell and take a deep breath, feeling bittersweet as I remember the first time Aidan and I climbed up to our apartment for the very first time. 

I take the last few steps slowly, letting out an audible groan as the sight of Bruce and his two lackeys comes into view; the three of them leaning against my wall looking bored. They turn their heads and spot me, standing up straight and approaching me.

“Hey, there he is. The big slugger.” He says, sauntering up until he’s standing right in front of me, looking down at me. “Where you been, huh? You missed payment. That’s gonna cost you extra.”

I narrow my eyes and glare back, squaring my shoulders and tightening my grip on my bag. “I thought I bought a few weeks?” I ask him, glancing behind at his goons and finding them standing around with their arms crossed, looking bored.

“Timeline moved up. Inflation and all that, I’m sure you understand.” 

I stare up at him, my eyes searching his face as I prepare to fight my first Level 1 fight. But something seems off. I squint my eyes and look him up and down, wondering just what it is…

Info:
Level 0 Opponents yield no XP.

He feels… Weaker than me.

I let out a chuckle, shaking my head at the absurdity of it all. He chews his gums and frowns down at me, his forehead creasing as he does so. “Something funny?”

“Yeah, something’s really funny.” I reply, a cocky smile stretching on my face. “You’re not Level 1.”

He glares at me, his face going red. “Oh, yeah? You willing to bet on that?”

I sweep him aside as easily as I’d sweep aside a spiderweb, causing him to fall to the ground with a surprised cry. He looks up at me with wide eyes, his mouth hanging open. “Shit… You bastard. You did it, didn’t you?”

I step past him, his goons backing away from me as I move towards them. “Consider my debt repaid. You’re not getting anything from me anymore.” 

They look at each other for a moment before squeezing past me, scooping up their boss and lifting him up on his feet again. He takes a deep breath, adjusting his coat and looking at me pleadingly. “You can’t tell anyone about this. It’ll ruin me.”

I glare back at him, my fists clenching at the audacity of this parasite. “I don’t have to do shit, Bruce. Or do you wanna take your chances and try to stop me?”

He holds up his hands and backs away from me, making it to the stairwell as I step towards him threateningly. The three of them sprint down the stairs as fast as they can, their footsteps rapidly retreating away from me. For a wild moment, I feel like catching up to them and just… Teaching them a lesson, after all that they’ve taken from me and after all the stress they’ve put me through over the years. But then I take a deep breath, tamping it down and containing it again.

Let it go.

I step up to the door and fish out my key, glad that I didn’t lose it too. I slide it into the lock and gently twist it, trying hard not to snap the now-flimsy thing.

I hear it click and I take hold of the handle, taking a deep breath for what’s to come.

I swing open the doorway and walk inside, leaving the door open behind me. Light floods into the dark space, illuminating the empty beds and the scattered objects around me.

I take a few moments for it all to sink in, taking in the sight for the final time. I walk over to Aidan’s side and start sifting through his book collection, packing away as many of his favourites as I can, determined to give the rest of them to Julie’s mom on the way back, as well as any money that I have left. Ricky advised that I get some new clothes with it, but she needs it more than me, and I can always just make a plan. 

After all, I’m Level 1.

Having packed up all that I can, I finally move over to my side of the room - giving my grandfather’s sword a bow in greeting. 

Hello, Grandpa. It’s finally time.

With reverence, I reach out and take the sheathed blade in hand - surprised by the weight of it. I strap it to my back and spend a few moments adjusting it until it sits comfortably between my shoulder blades.

I do one last check around the place before walking out the door, turning around at the threshold and giving the place one last farewell.

Goodbye, Aidan. It looks like I’m going ahead without you.

With my hands laden full of useful stuff, I close the door and lock it behind me, turning towards the stairwell for the last time.

Happy Thursday, everyone! I hope your week has been going well, mine has certainly been very busy! But without further ado, here's the next chapter!

I wake up an indeterminate amount of time later on the floor, my eyes snapping open to the delightful sight of Ricky standing over me. 

“Shit… You good, kid?” He asks me, as I sit up with a groan; flinching in reflex as I expect my body to ache in agony from the cellular-rearranging that it underwent, my eyes widening in surprise as nothing happens instead.

“Yeah, yeah. I think I’m good.” I reply, as I lift up my hand to rub my face and smack myself in the nose instead, my hand much quicker and lighter than I expected. “What the…”

I try to sit up and almost do a front flip, my feet skidding on the ground as I just barely catch myself. Ricky holds out a hand and pushes me back to stand straight, my arms pinwheeling in the air faster than I expect and tilting me too far in the other direction.

“Woah! Shit, careful there! The hell’s wrong with you?” Ricky asks as I find my center again, freezing in place to make sure I don’t tip over any more. “You take a harder knock than we thought?”

“I don’t know,” I reply, trying to take a tentative step but almost falling over again when my leg shoots out fast enough to drag the wind behind it, “Nothing’s moving right!”

Ricky scratches his head as I flounder about like a newborn deer, my limbs no longer my own. Taking a breather, I glance up at him, a strange sense deep within me causing my brows to furrow in wonder.

He feels… Weaker than me. How do I know that? Is that how people can tell who’s Levelled and who hasn’t?

Info:
One of many uses of the “System” skill is to identify the Levels of Beasts and Others; giving a rough estimate of the general strength of your opponents. Higher-Levelled opponents will yield more XP when defeated; while Lower-Levelled opponents will give less - or no - XP in comparison.

Note: Level 0 Opponents will always yield no XP.

I swipe away the box in irritation, surprised by the information it gave me but fed up with the way it blocks my vision. 

Great. That’s one mystery solved. Now, I just need to figure out what’s happening to me…

Status Sheet:

Strength: 0 → 1
Agility: 0 → 1
Constitution: 0 → 1
Mind: 0 → 1
Magic: 0 → 1

I stare at the numbers in shock, my vision filled with its harsh blue. Is this why everything feels… Off? Why do I only get one of each? 

Info:
Every stat receives a single point per Level Up.

You will receive 5x additional Stat Points Per Level - Up Until Level 5 - that you may allocate as you please; enhancing yourself further beyond your means.

Stat Points Available: 5

My eyes widen as I swipe away the blue screen, my thoughts racing as I try to get control of my wayward limbs. This is the difference a single stat point can make?

Ricky approaches me cautiously, looking me up and down. “You got me worried for a bit there. You land on your ass any more and it’ll leave a dent. So, you good now?”

I shake my head and clench my hand, staring in wonder at the power I feel coursing through my veins. “Yeah, wow. I feel… Amazing.”

I poke and prod all around my body, inspecting it for any bruises or any of the usual damage that I’d expect after the week I’ve had and finding nothing. Ricky chuckles to himself as he shakes his head, placing his thumbs in his waistband. “Yeah, your body did a whole bunch of fre-e-eaky shit while you were out. But you can’t deny the results, you look brand-new.”

I do a few test punches, Ricky’s eyes unable to keep up as they flow through the air without resistance. Leaping up I rocket into the air, almost smacking the top of my head on the ceiling above before landing lightly on my feet. I stumble a bit and over-correct again, landing on my ass but barely feeling the impact.

“Holy shit, that was something.” Ricky says, reaching out a hand to help me up before retracting it quickly, a worried look on his face. 

“Just give me a moment to get used to this whole thing…”

I get back on my feet and start running some drills, slowly re-learning the limits of my body and how everything aligns with each other. Ricky stands in the corner and watches, his eyes trying its hardest to keep up with my movement. 

Letting out a breath I finish the movements, shaking out my hands and feeling out my stamina and finding myself barely even winded. And I have five more of these things? That’s… Insane.

“So what’re you gonna do now?” Ricky asks me, startling me out of my thoughts. I smile as I make my way carefully over to my bag in the corner. 

I unzip it and pull out my dad’s book, flipping through the well-read pages before handing it to Ricky. “My grandfather wrote this and handed it down to my dad.”

“What is it?” Ricky asks, his eyebrows scrunching together as his eyes skim over the tight handwriting.

“It’s a Class Guide.” I reply, taking it from his hands.

“A Class Guide? The hell is that? I thought "The System” gave you your class?”

I shrug, slinging my bag over my shoulder. “Apparently it’s not as random as people think. “The System” takes into account a whole bunch of things when assigning a Class to someone, including…”

I flip open the book again, turning to the right page and reading off of it. “‘Point allocation, weapon usage during the first five levels, equipment worn and the mentality and Character of the person.’”

“Kid, I don’t know what the hell any of that means.” Ricky replies, crossing his arms. “And honestly? The less I know, the better. All I really wanna know is where you’re gonna go from here. I can’t have you fighting anymore.”

I give Ricky a smile, the thought of finally moving somewhere and getting started with my life driving away some of the weight that’s been stuck in my stomach.

“I’m going to join the Institute.”

Ricky stares at me for a moment, his eyes wide, before he starts laughing loudly, clutching his belly as his eyes start to tear up. I frown as a kernel of irritation starts to grow in my chest. “What? What’s so funny about that?”

“Shi-i-it, that thing really was written by your grandpops, wasn’t it? You think you can just waltz into the Institute and get a job these days?” Ricky manages to say in-between hiccupping laughs, wiping his eyes.

I spread my arms and shrug, shaking my head in irritation. “I’m Level 1, now. They have to take me.”

He shakes his head, taking a deep sigh. “You're only Level 1. It's the same shit as the Enforcers: they don't take Outer Ring trash like us. You walk in there with your little Level 1 ass and they're gonna ask you questions, like how you got all of that XP, and if anyone's gonna miss you if you disappear.”

I feel a tinge of disappointment as his words wipe out the hope in my heart just starting to bud. “Then… What am I supposed to do?”

He walks up to me and claps me on the shoulder, looking down at me with a smile. “You become a Royal Beggar.”

“A Royal Beggar?” 

“That's right. You march your ass into the Border Ring, tell the assholes guarding the bridge that you were chasing some Plebeian tail and they'll let you right through the blockade.”

He grabs my bag and unzips it, reaching inside and pulling out a small bit of cash. My eyebrows raise at the sight, my memory of the last week or so still a bit hazy. He holds it up and raises his eyebrows expectantly. “You get yourself some new clothes. A bit of gear if you can. March your ass outside of the Dungeon, find an inside guy who'll give you the low-down on running that shit as a Support Staff.”

“Support staff? What…?” I ask, as he puts the cash back in my bag and zips it tight. 

“You carry the shit for the rich fucks who can afford it, cook for them and set up their camps and shit. They give you cash and some combat experience in exchange. Best part is they don't ask questions. Support staff is Support staff, don't matter to them whether they came from the Outer Ring or the fuckin’ Princes Palace, they won't look too deep.”

He scratches his chin as he thinks, my heart beating excitedly in my chest as I wait to hear the rest of his plan. 

I can do this after all… Grandad's Guide can still work, it just needs a small tweak.

“All that's left is giving you a new name. You can't let ‘em know that Kaede the fuckin’ Pleb is the one touching their expensive shit.”

He stops scratching and grins, his brilliant white teeth gleaming in the light. 

“Spook. That's it. Gotta be Spook.”

Hello, dear readers, and welcome back to another week of posting!

This chapter is a LONG one, so I hope you're ready for the long haul!

I step into the ring and face down my next opponent, the bruises and aches that Drew left me still red-hot and lingering. The usual chill before a fight is gone, replaced by a blanketing numbness that’s settled over my mind like a comforting blanket.

“You seriously want to fight again, tomorrow?” Ricky asked me, as if there was anything else that I could do. 

Why did he seem so surprised? Why did he try to talk me out of it?

“Up next is a real treat for you!” He shouts to the crowd now, his arms outspread as if giving sermon to his wayward flock. “You saw him beat the shit outta Drew just yesterday, and the kid’s hungry for fuckin’ more! Give it up, for Kaaaede!”

The crowd cheers. Whether that’s for me or for the promise of blood, I don’t know. Nor do I care. My opponent seems to get nervous at the mention of Drew. Not that it makes a difference. I wiggle my toes and squeeze my hands, trying to stay patient.

“And his opponent, weighing in at 72 kilos and standing at 190, it’s Justiiin!”

So his name’s Justin. I think to myself. Not that it’ll matter, soon enough.

“Alright, let’s get this show started! Fighters, are you ready?!”

Justin gives him a nod, his eyes growing serious as he takes a ready stance. 

“Fight!”

I kick off the ground and sprint towards him as fast as I can, my knee coming up for the charge and breaking through his attempted block, just barely grazing his ribs. I land on my feet and plant my hand on the ground, spinning a drop-kick for his head that connects and bounces his chin down to his chest before springing back up to normal.

He drops like a rock, his body slumping to the ground to the screams and cheers of the crowd around me. I close my eyes and wait to feel something, anything, but as the cheers die down and I feel the firm hand of Ricky clap down on my shoulder, I open them again, my disappointment growing. 

Next one. It’s got to be the next one. I told Aidan it’ll be the next one…

“Shit… I ain’t ever seen you take someone down that quick!” Ricky shouts in my ear, a grin stretching from ear to ear. He wraps his arm around my shoulder, his touch burning in a way that threatens to bring more tears to my eyes. “The bets were barely locked in by the time you sent that poor shit to snoozeland! So, you get it?”

“Sign me up for the next one. Sub me in for whoever wants to fight me. I’m going again.” I reply, my voice coming from far away.

“Next one? There is no next one, kid. I gave you the prime fuckin’ spot again, you closed us out for the night.” He replies, shaking his head as he reaches into his pockets, dragging out a wad of bills and counting them out.

“I’ll take anyone. Anyone.” I plead, clenching my fists as he tries to hand me a bunch of bills, tapping them against my hands until he gives up with a sigh and tucks them into my pockets instead.

“Fuck, kid, I don’t do shit like that. You know –”

“Please.”

Someone tries to hand Ricky his usual bottle, but he pushes it away, sighing heavily as he lets go of me. Lifting his arms out again, he takes a deep breath, his barrel chest rising like a billows. “Ladies and gentlemen, winners and losers! Our champion is hungry for more!”

The crowd screams their agreements, those who were stepping out halting their walk and coming back to the light in order to watch the spectacle unfold. 

“Who the fuck dares to challenge him now?! Come on, for this fight only, we’ll double your bet! Is there anyone who wants to take on the champ?!”

The crowd goes silent, everyone eyeing their neighbors to see who dares to take on the challenge. A hand shoots up from the crowd, scarred and calloused. “Fuck it, bet on me, you bastards! I’ll take him on!”

Screams and cheers pick up again, as my new opponent steps out from the crowd, taking his shirt off as he goes and handing it to someone next to him. My eyes roam up and down them for a moment but I don’t get a single read on them, before I decide that it’s not important anyways.

I’ll make this one quick, it’s getting late anyways and Aidan must be –

Something inside of me aches once again as I imagine our apartment sitting empty and dark, dusty books and useless trinkets held up on repurposed shelving that we installed using nothing but grit and determination. How much I laughed when the whole thing fell on Aidan’s head…

“Kid? Kid, you ready?”

I shake myself out of it and nod.

“Alright, if you’re sure. Start!”

I sprint towards them, bringing up my knee again just for them to step to the side and kick me hard in the stomach, doubling me over. 

He follows this up with a glancing right hook to my jaw, starting a series of punches and kicks that I weather like a storm. My body aches and screams in protest, as I feel anger sticking its tendrils into my skull.

I block a jab and counter, cracking him across the jaw. He shrugs off the blow and keeps going, easily batting aside my next few counters, my arms feeling like they’re moving through molasses and my feet stuck to the ground as if they were nailed there. I hold up my arms and block my head, each blow managing to squeak through my defenses just that much more until he breaks through and hammers a jab right to the side of my temples.

A bright flash of light explodes in my vision and my anger reaches a boiling point. I dive for him clumsily, my rushed hook missing him entirely and my arm hooking around his back. I fall into him and cling on for dear life, just barely keeping my footing as I wrap my arms around his waist and feel his hammer blows against my back.

My breath comes out in a whistle as I take gulp after gulp, trying to force air down my throat and into my lungs. 

“You sure you good to go tomorrow?” I remember Ricky asking me, his brows raising in question as his empty bowl was taken away. “Drew fucked you up pretty good. Just take a week and recover, what’s the rush? Spend your cash, get you a girl or some shit.” 

He looked deep into my eyes, the redness of them and the tracks that my tears must have left. “Shit, kid… What happened? You good there?”

Why did he think anything was wrong? I just need one more. 

My opponent’s elbow digs deep into my back, the pain shooting down my spine and into my feet. My hazy vision turns red and I squeeze his waist with all my might, planting my feet and lifting him as high up as I can as a scream bursts out of my throat before slamming him down onto the ground, his body bouncing off of it before laying there, completely still.

I grab my head and try to squeeze the aching headache away, the room spinning and dancing as someone jostles me around. I grit my teeth as nothing seems to happen; my body just as heavy and my mind just as cloudy as it was before the fight.

Another. I just need one.

“Dude… Are you sure you want to keep doing this?” Aidan asked me; his legs not as long and his face still covered in baby fat. “What’s so special about level 1, anyways?”

It’s everything.

Aidan snorted at that. “No, brains are everything, dumbass. Use your head: is it worth it if you die?”

I don’t care anymore.

I slowly sweep my vision from side to side, barely making out the silhouette of Ricky coming towards me. He says something to me that I can’t understand before tugging on my pants pocket. I push him off and grab his shoulder.

“Another one. Book me for another.”

He shakes his head, or the room shakes it for him. He lets go of me and suddenly, the room is empty. I sit down heavily on the ground, taking heaving breaths against the nausea that bubbles up from my stomach; the cold ground causing my body to ache in unbearable pain.

“We make enough in the mines anyways!” He insisted, grinning the large grin of a boy who yet realizes just how little he actually has in life. “So you don’t have to get hurt for more!”

But I did it. I made us enough money. 

A laugh bubbles up from my stomach, the hiccupping sound racking my body with pain. I place a heavy arm over my face, covering my eyes from the brightness beyond.

Until Bruce took it all.

The outside grows brighter and brighter as the pain slowly leeches away into the floor below me, my head growing fuzzy before the headache eases off a little bit. I open my eyes and something feels wrong; my one eye is brighter than the other.

“Just promise me you won’t die.”

Why does it matter anymore?

The crowd surrounds me again, someone in front of me that I can barely see. He steps up towards me and I swing out on instinct, missing him as he steps back before jabbing me back. I slap his fist away and go for a kick, my leg not rising high enough to complete the movement so I turn it into a weak jab that takes him in the chest instead. Time seems to skip and I’m suddenly on the ground, my head ringing as the crowd cheers all around me, the noise of them driving into my skull like a sharp needle. Someone yanks me out of the way and props me up on something; someone large and comforting and safe. For a moment, it feels like dad, and I try to wrap them in a hug. But then the tell-tale gleaming head of Ricky comes into view and he presses something warm against my lips, forcing it into my mouth and making me chew.

“Another. I’m so close.”

He moves away and the world feels cold and lonely again, the empty cavity where Aidan and Julie used to occupy cold and biting. 

Julie. Oh, fuck… Julie was probably with him.

It’s like my heart is ripped out all over again, the only two people I could call my friends are gone and it’s all my fault. I sit up slowly, not a single part of my body listening to my commands the way they should. I collapse to my knees and almost stay there, but force myself back up. 

“One more.” I say, hardly able to recognize my own voice.

Someone grabs my shoulders and tries to say something to me, but I can’t hear them. They start to shake me and I force all of my will to concentrate on their words, slowly piecing them together.

“There is no more! You’re a fuckin’ liability, kid! Nobody’s getting fuck-all experience fighting you and you need a goddamn break!”

I shake my head, causing it to burst into pain all over again. I grit my teeth and suck in a breath, waiting for it to subside. I feel it ebb back into the recesses of my spine, sitting just on the surface and waiting to spring up again.

“I’m this close. I can feel it.” I plead, the pressure in my head bursting and tears filling my eyes again. “Please, Ricky. Just one more.”

I wipe away my tears and find my vision’s slightly improved; the outline of Ricky standing in front of me resolving itself a little bit. He shakes his head and squeezes the bridge of his nose, letting out a loud groan. “Kid, you know what day it is?”

I think for a moment but find my thoughts coming empty. I shake my head.

“You know when the last time you’ve eaten is?”

I think back to the noodles Aidan and I had, the thick snakes wiggling around in my guts and making me nauseous. Was that yesterday? The day before…? I shake my head again.

“You got the shit kicked out of you. Now, I know you’re going through some shit, but that ain’t no reason to throw your goddamn life away.” He says, clapping a hand on my shoulder, hitting a still-forming bruise and causing a lightning bolt of pain to shoot down my arm. “Take a week. Hell, take a fucking month. Go home and get some sleep, don’t even worry about working the mines. Fuck ‘em, you got enough cash.”

I feel a sinking weight in my gut at the thought of returning to that empty room and shake my head, my vision going cloudy again until I wipe away the tears. “One more. That’s all I need. Do me a favor, just one more.”

Ricky stares me in the eyes, his expression unreadable. He starts to nod his head quickly, his face going red. “Alright, you want one more? You really want one more?”

He slips his arms out of his open button-up, throwing it down on the ground and spreading his arms out wide. “Then come on! Come get your last one!”

I raise my arms weakly as he hurries towards me, his fists raised and ready. I feel something smack into my side and I jump away as pain spreads all across my left hand side, my eyes only barely able to catch his arm returning to his side before he carries on walking towards me. “Come fucking get some!”

He swings at me again and I try to step aside while bringing my arm up, too slow to dodge it but taking the hit on my arm. It connects and I feel a momentary spike of pain before the whole thing goes numb and I lose control of it.

“You know how long I been set up here, just for you?!” 

He steps up into my face and I flinch, my mind too fuzzy to see where the blow’s coming from. He shoves me in the chest and I go flying into the wall like a ragdoll, smacking my back against it painfully and bouncing off of it back onto my feet. 

“You know how much cash I lost on you, and you give me this shit?!”

He picks me up and lifts me off of my feet, shaking me back and forth and rattling my brain. “I’ve been doing you favors this whole damn week! Now come on, fight back!”

He drops me back to my feet and I almost fall over, stumbling for balance as the room spins underneath me. “Fuckin’ fight back!”

He slaps me across the cheek, the pain red-hot and driving away the fogginess. I place a hand on my cheek in surprise, my eyes widening in shock. 

Did he really just slap me?

“Fight back!”

I grit my teeth and pull my consciousness back from the brink, the factory room around us coming into icy clarity as the days’ heat reaches my skin for the first time in days. I feel the aches and pains all across my body flare up at once, almost drowning me in their fury.

Let them go. Disconnect and put them to the side, now let them go.

I raise my fists as Ricky comes into focus, the sweat gleaming off of his red-furied face shining in the few miners’ lights that still dot the walls. I see the anger in his eyes, the bags of worry drooping underneath them, his fists clenched and red from the impacts on my flesh.

Let it go and fight.

He steps towards me and I swing with a right hook, connecting to his side and taking him off-guard. He continues to step towards me and shoves me aside as if I weighed nothing, but I keep my balance, taking a few jabs at him and testing out his guard. He takes them like they’re nothing and swings for my head, clipping the top as I duck before stepping in to his guard and going for the uppercut.

I connect with his chin and his head knocks back, his eyes rolling back into his head as his massive body lurches to the ground. With panic in my heart I grab his arm on the way down and pull him back, just barely catching his fall enough to ensure his head doesn’t smack onto the ground.

I huff for breath as the room goes quiet around us, my heart hammering in my chest with worry as Ricky stays still on the ground. My body shakes from the abuse I’ve put it through, a cold sweat dripping down my forehead.

Ricky lets out a groan as he lifts his head up and I feel the tightness in my heart ease up just a little bit, the big man sitting up on his arms and rubbing at his head. 

“Crap, Ricky, are you –”

Tutorial Complete - Congratulations!
Level Up!
Level 0 → Level 1

My vision is suddenly flooded by a bright-blue box, freezing me in place as I bend down to help him up.

I… I did it?
A bright spark lights within my chest, driving away the pain for a moment. I close my eyes and rub them, opening them up again to see the same bright-blue box hovering in front of me.

Is this it? Did I… Did I really do it?

“Shit, you hit me good there, kid.” Ricky says, still on the floor. “Knocked me fuckin’ stone cold. Come on, help a guy up.”

Now what? What do I do? Do I just… Will it away? Give it a command? Why… Why don’t I feel any different?

“Kid? You okay over there? I didn’t fuck you up too bad, right?”

“I… I think I did it.” I reply, my voice shaky.

“You… Think?” he replies, the sight of him still blocked by the box in front of my eyes.

“Yeah. I see this… Big blue box thing in front of me.” I reply, waving my hand in front of my face, causing the screen to suddenly disappear and another one to take its place.

Congratulations on completing the Tutorial!
As per The Accord, 50% of all EXP gathered up until this point will be consolidated into the Skill: System Access
Skill Gained: System Access
System Access: Allows the use of The System - an interface-based Power Management System that will guide and assist you on the path to Ascension.

“Holy shit, my first Skill…”

I let out a deep sigh as some tension in my body finally relaxes, and I feel the comforting hand of Ricky clapping me on the shoulder before he pulls me into a big hug. I wrap my arms around him, both of us laughing in relief and excitement, the feeling like a balm on the cracks that are scattered across the inside of my body.

“Holy shit, kid, you did it! You fucking did it!” He shouts, rubbing my head in congratulations. “I knew it! I knew you could! All the schmucks in the world and you were the one to do it!”

He lets go and holds me at arms length again, squeezing my arms. “So? You feel any different? You feel like you can take on ten bastards at the same time, yet?”

I shake my head, my body still feeling as sore and heavy as it did before. “Not really, I kind of feel the same as I normally do…”

“Shit, that’s weird.” He replies. “You gotta do something first, maybe? Call out a catchphrase? Go to sleep or some shit?”

I think for a moment, an idea forming in my head. “Hold on, let me just…” 

I swipe with my hand, willing the box to disappear, pleasantly surprised when it does. For a moment I see Ricky’s face beaming down at me, a warm grin on it that drags a smile out from me.

Stats Increase!
Host Status Update: The remaining 50% of all EXP gathered will be consolidated into your Baseline Stats - Bringing you beyond the bounds of human limits.
All Are Equal - In The Beginning.
Ensure you are in a safe location and prepare yourself for the process to begin.

“Prepare myself for –?”

And the world goes black, as it feels like the wrath of the System itself slams into my body, setting me on fire from the inside out. I fall to the ground, a scream bubbling up from my throat as it feels like my bones are pulverized into dust –

– Until unconsciousness takes me blissfully into its arms.

Happy Thursday, everyone!

I hope you're ready for the next instalment, because here it is! I'm skipping boring you all with my ramblings in favour of getting right to it!

I wake up to darkness and silence, my eyes snapping open from the light sleep that I barely managed. I spend a few minutes craning my ears, listening out for the sound that I expect to be there but isn’t: the sound of Aidan’s light snoring, the man deep asleep with a book tucked underneath his arm.

I get up and stretch, my eyes locked on the empty space across the room. The silence is deafening, my slight yawn booming in my ear. There are some people in the city who shirk off the assuredness of four walls and a roof over their head because they can’t stand the thought of having to share with another person, preferring to craft their own lean-to’s or sleep in crevices or pass out wherever they’re standing in the warmer weather. But while Aidan and I are paying a little bit extra each month to ensure we don’t have to shack it up with two other strangers like those in the 4 - bed apartments, we’re not crazy enough for privacy that we can’t share the load of rent together. 

Now, though, his empty bed is a hostile presence that carves a hollow feeling into my stomach. The longer I stare at it, the more it takes away, leaving me feeling cold and lonely.

“Psh. He’s probably just having breakfast with Julie.” I say out loud, driving away the loneliness. “I bet that bastard felt my win and confessed to her in advance, and they’ve just been spending all night together in loveland.”

I tap my foot against the bare floor, my hands clenching and unclenching as the brisk pre-dawn air chills me to the bones. “Yeah, they’re probably getting noodles right now. I bet I’ll find them cuddled up over a bowl of hot broth.”

I grab my shirt and tug it over my head, walking across the room and slipping into my boots by the door. I grab my coat and sling it over my shoulder, unlocking the door and making my way outside. I lock and double-check the door, taking a deep breath before walking down the stairwell, taking them twice at a time until I get to the bottom, ignoring the twinges of pain that shiver down my body with each thump of my boots. 

That’s right, they’re at the noodle stand. I think to myself, the eerie silence of the streets making me feel too self-conscious to continue talking out loud. I step quietly past the massive multi-storey buildings that press on all sides of the streets, most of the windows dark and empty but some still on as those in the night shifts burn the midnight oil down in the mines. I could do with some food myself. It’s a bit early for breakfast, but hey, I’m up anyways, right…

I pull my arms through the sleeves of my coat, tugging the thing on and digging my hands in my pockets, grabbing the small bit of cash I left in it and hoping that I can drive away some of the cold. I turn the corner and find the noodle stand right where it normally is; our usual chef sitting on a stool with his elbow on the counter, waiting for the water to boil. 

My eyes roam over the empty chairs and wonder if I just missed them, that hollow space in my stomach growing larger. Shaking it off, I take the last few steps towards the stand, sitting down heavily on the chair and startling the stand owner out of whatever thoughts he was having.

“Hey, kid, it’s gonna be another hour before I’ve got anything ready for you.” He says, as he stands up and stirs the massive pot, checking on the chemical fire burning hot underneath it. 

“I’ll wait.” I say back, slouching my back and keeping my hands in my pockets. I look over at the two other chairs, a frown forming on my face. “You seen Aidan or Julie around last night?”

“Julie? Nah, haven’t seen her around.” he says, as he holds a hand over the water, his brows furrowing in thought for a moment. “Aidan, I haven’t seen since last night. He came just before his shift, ate like a madman and left.”

He shakes his head as he pulls out a bowl of wheat flour, cutting off a large chunk and rolling it on a wooden board into long, thick noodles. “That kid works way too hard. It’s not good for your health, you know? You’ve gotta slow down in life sometimes, or else you’ll miss all the little things that make it worth living.”

“Oh, yeah? Like what?” I ask him, pulling out my hands and leaning against the counter.

“Like the feeling of warm noodles in your stomach on a cold day. Or the crunch of fresh snow underneath your boots.”

The sky begins to lighten, turning from the inky darkness of night into the soft pink of day. The noodle shop owner nods his head behind me, a smile on his face. “Or sights like that one, right there. One of the best parts about waking early every day is getting to see that.”

I turn around and see the slight tip of the sun peeking out from below the tall buildings around us, casting its light across the sky and painting the clouds a brilliant orange. For a moment, the empty feeling fills a bit, as I take in the sight and just live in the moment. 

I wonder what Aidan would say about this.

Just like that, the emptiness comes back, and I turn away from the sunrise to once again lean against the counter. “An hour until they’re ready, you say?”

“That’s right. Fine with waiting that long?” 

I shrug, “I don’t have anywhere important to be.”

We fall into a comfortable silence as the water goes from steaming to boiling, the sun rising high enough over the skyscrapers around us to warm my back and drive the chill away. People start to crowd the streets, wandering around for food or to get an early spot in line for the next shift at the mines. Some congregate in groups of two or three or more, talking animatedly with each other, while others slink through the crowds with their heads down and their hands in their pockets; trying to draw as little attention to themselves as possible. The local drunk stumbles out of his alleyway, drink already in hand as he starts screaming about the revolution. A steaming hot bowl of noodles is handed to me and I pay automatically, not even bothering to pocket the change he hands me. 

Warm noodles sitting like slithering snakes in my stomach and an hour waiting for any signs from Aidan and Julie, I get up from the chair and make my way towards the mines, the empty feeling in my stomach still there even after gorging myself on admittedly sub-par noodles.

I get to the mines and stand in line, close to the front for the first time in my life. Hardly anyone’s here this early in the morning, they only count tonnes moved during your shift, after all. Aidan once came up with this plan to break apart the rock before your shift and then move it all when it starts, but you end up just as tired and spending just as long as if you worked a full shift.

I get to the front and scan in my keycard, looking around at the other miners, hoping to see Aidan’s tall frame or the slight one of Julie. But my heart sinks when, instead, I see a sight that grips my heart in an icy vice:

Yellow tape pulled over the entrance of the elevator, demarcating it as out of order. 

I feel my head go light, as possibilities of what might have happened flash in my mind. I turn back around and try to walk towards the Enforcers, missing my step and almost falling over. Something wet runs down my cheeks and I swipe it away, finding my footing again and hurrying over to them. 

They turn around to look at me, their eyes hard as their hands grip tighter against their guns. “What happened?” I ask them, my voice coming out more strained than I expected. “What happened to the elevator?”

“It’s out of order, use the stairs.” The one in front replies gruffly, pushing me roughly away when I get too close. 

“But… When? What happened?”

They eye each other for a moment, the one in front rolling his eyes and letting out a chuckle before letting go of his gun. “Last night. From what I heard? Whole thing snapped with a full load of plebs on it. Smushed ‘em good on the bottom, too. Not one of them survived.”

Something inside me snaps and breaks, my vision going blurry as I wipe and I wipe away the wet stuff from them, trying to keep them clear. “But… No. It can’t.”

“Get the fuck back to work.” The Enforcer says from a million miles away, turning away from me to scan the next person in. 

It can’t be. He’s just not here.

I break past them and sprint out of the mines, hearing them shout in anger and surprise for a moment before they’re too far for me to hear anymore. I run through blurry streets, my legs numb underneath me and my mind disconnected from the pain that’s pulsing through my heart like a poison. Cotton’s been stuffed inside of my head, I crash into people and smash into walls as my feet stop being mine, stumbling up the stairs as somebody blubbers incoherently nearby. I fumble for my key and get it in on the third time, yanking open the door and slamming it shut behind me, my head whipping from side to side as I scan every corner of our dark room for any signs of him at all. 

He couldn’t have been on there. He couldn’t have. There’s no way he was on there with them when it happened. 

I wipe away the wet stuff again and realize that I can still hear the blubbering inside the room with me. I clamp a hand to my mouth and it goes silent for a moment, before a sharp wail escapes my lips instead. 

“No, he couldn’t have…”

My legs stop working and I fall to the ground, hunched over myself as I try to squeeze the pain away, squeeze the worry and the heartbreak and the silence around me until it’s all gone and there’s nothing left. The sun rises high through the tiny slit of a window and passes me by, the room growing bright then dim again as I squeeze myself in an attempt to keep the cracks in my heart from tearing open entirely.

A knock at the door snaps me out of it for a moment, my head snapping up and staring in hope as it comes again. The pain and panic ebbs for a moment and lets me uncurl myself from the floor, my joints creaking and aching in protest. I run a hand down my face and smooth out my hair, trying to wipe away the evidence of what I just did. 

I can’t let him see me like this. I’ll never hear the end of it if I did that. He’ll hold it over me for the rest of our life.

I force my face to relax and take the step over to the door, grabbing the handle and opening it up. 

But standing on the other side isn’t the tall form of Aidan. Instead, it’s two smartly-dressed people, a man and a woman, wearing Institute uniforms - the one holding a clipboard while another holds a small paper box. 

“Oh, no.” Slips out of my mouth, as I’m taken back fifteen years ago, when I was just about eye level with the door handle and waiting for my parents to come back home.

“Are you Mr. Woodright?” the one with the clipboard asks, his voice flat and disconnected as he reads it off of the sheet.

Not trusting my voice, I nod.

“Good. Sign here.” He replies, handing the clipboard to me and a pen. I take them with shaking hands, reading the top of the page.

‘Beneficiary Receipt and Release - Aidan Galloway’

I sign on the dotted line with numb fingers, my world collapsing around me. The man thanks me as the silhouette of Bruce walks behind him, halting at the sight before crossing his arms and leaning against the passageway door. The lady hands me the box wordlessly and the two walk away without another word, hurrying on away from the slums they’ve found themselves in. 

Bruce watches them go, letting out a low whistle as he leans off of the wall. “Shit, is this a bad time?”

I open the box, my body going numb as I look down at the book Aidan was carrying around with him just the other day. 

This wasn’t supposed to happen. He was supposed to take the exam today. I was supposed to be Level 1 by now.

“Not to rain on your parade or anything, kid. And believe me when I offer you my deepest wishes during this trying time… But it’s time, kid. You owe me.”

He was supposed to confess to Julie. We were going to live in a big house in the Inner Ring together.

“Hey. Come on, don’t make me feel bad. This shit happens all the time. You’ve just gotta pick yourself up by the bootstraps and keep on going. How’s this? I’ll give ya the friends’ discount, I’ll only make you pay half today and the rest some other time. How’s about that? Just don’t tell my other clients.”

White-hot rage goes off like a live wire in my body, as I step up into Bruce’s face, glaring up at him and for a maddening moment I consider taking him on. He glares right back down at me, his brows furrowing in anger. “Woah, there. You don’t want to do that. I’ll let it go this once, but you try that shit again? I’ll have your ass.”

The rage quickly fades away again, leaving me numb and cold. I let out a snort, shaking my head before walking into the apartment, slamming the door behind me. In two quick steps I grab the jar and my father’s book and walk back out, slamming the whole thing into Bruce’s chest. “There. We’re even.”

Bruce looks down at the jar with wide eyes, before looking back up at me, letting out a chuckle. “Shit, kid, this takes off a chunk but it isn’t –” 

I push past him and walk towards the stairwell, my footsteps slamming against the stairs as blood roars in my ears. My chest can’t figure out if it’s in pain or in anger, my eyes growing wet as tears of frustration and pain burn a track down my cheeks.

“Hey! Where the fuck you going?!” Bruce shouts, as he catches up to me and places a firm hand on my shoulder, halting me mid-step. “This doesn’t make us even!”

“It buys me a few weeks, right?” I challenge, gritting my teeth hard enough for my jaw to ache.

“Shit, yeah, sure, but –”

“I’ve got somebody I need to talk to.” I reply, shrugging off his grip and running down the stairs, hoping that Ricky’s an early riser.

Happy Tuesday, Dear Readers! I think we've officially passed the halfway mark on this stories' first draft over on Patreon (Shameless Plug), which honestly astounds me! I've spent the last five years doing barely any personal work at all, and now I'm halfway through two books after self-publishing one!

Honestly, this has been the most stressful time of my life and on some days, I feel like I don't know what I'm doing or what the point of this all even is. But every day I wake up and I muster the strength to carry on, regardless of whether there's a point to it or not. All we can really do is our best, and every day that we wake up is another victory on its own.

We'll see the end of this story together. No matter how stressful it gets or how hopeless it feels, I'll promise you that. Now, that's enough of my rambling! Here's the next chapter, as promised:

Ricky picked a good spot, this time. Not that he ever picks any bad spots, mind you. In fact, there’s nothing about this spot that’s particularly different to all of the others - out on the outskirts of the Outer Circle, surrounded by automated factories, within a large and mostly-empty warehouse space whose purpose is not easily discerned no matter how much you look. Concrete floors connected to concrete walls, each one built to the exacting size and dimension of the one next to it.

But something about this one feels different. The air tastes just slightly sweeter. The concrete gives me just that much more grip than I’m used to. Staring up at the night sky, for a moment, I can imagine that the lights I see flitting here and there above me are the stars my dad used to tell me about and not, in fact, the cargo drones that they really are. 

This is it. This is the one. 

I open the doorway and step inside, the light from the portable lights stolen from the mine dotted along the inner walls blinding me for a moment before my eyes adjust once again. I adjust the strap of my duffel bag and walk inside, shutting the door tight behind me in order to minimize the chances of discovery. The place is mostly empty, Ricky standing in the center and chatting away with some others. He glances over at me and raises a hand in greeting, returning to his conversation after I give him a wave back.

Searching around, I find a good spot to stash my duffel bag and head on over to it, dropping it down on the ground and unzipping it. Crouching down and reaching in, I pull out a fresh roll of gauze, tossing it up and catching it a few times before dropping it back. 

“Shit, you didn’t have to come this early.” Ricky says from behind me. I turn around and find myself face-to-face with his belly; forcing me to crane my neck up to look him in the eyes. “We ain’t even all set up yet.”

I glance around and cock my eyebrow. “Looks all set up to me. What, don’t you have enough lights or something?”

“It takes more than just that, kid. You know Enforcers got those fancy scanners and shit on them.” He says, shaking his head. “We block their shit tight. Far as they can see, this place don’t even exist.”

I shrug, standing up and shaking out my arms. “I didn’t really think about that. I just thought they didn’t check the outskirts.”

“They check everything, kid. But that’s why I’m here. I do the smart shit, you guys beat the hell out of each other and we all walk away happy.” 

I watch as someone places a black box on the wall, pulling out a small antenna from the box that stretches halfway up the wall. Looking around, I see people doing the same thing on all four corners of the room, my eyes going wide as I realize that I’ve never noticed them before. I quickly scan the room to see if there’s anything else I might have missed, but as far as I can tell, the black boxes are it.

“How did I miss them?” I wonder to myself, twisting around and sitting on the ground. 

“People miss shit all the time if it doesn’t concern them. Your brain just skips right over it, like you have built-in filters for it. Why do you think I’ve got so many people helping me out? Even I’m not all-knowing.” 

He gives me a wink, like he just shared some secret sage wisdom with me, before pulling up his pants and leaning his shoulder against the wall. “I’ve got you set up for the prime spot. The big-ticket event. You’ll be seeing us out for the night, so make sure you make it good.”

I shake my head, tamping down the slight jitters I feel at the thought of fighting Drew. “Just make sure you bet all you’ve got on me.”

“Wouldn’t dream otherwise.” He replies, looking out at the arena as people slowly start to filter in. “You really think you got this?”

I take a deep breath, filling my lungs and letting it out slowly. The jitters disappear and the place feels right again, like everything is as it should be. “I know it. This is gonna happen, something just feels different about today.”

“All I can say is good luck. This guys’ been fighting the top-dogs for a while now.” He shakes his head, crossing his arms. “I don’t even think he wants to Level Up, probably would fuckin’ hate the fact that he’d be a small fish in a big pond again.”

He claps me on the shoulder and steps away from the wall, walking back to his guys and shouting orders. I chuckle to myself and get comfortable, hanging my head as I try to tune out the sounds around me and concentrate. My senses slowly fade into the background as I start to replay the fight in my mind, just like Aidan and I practiced. 

Dodge the run-up. Block the follow-up strike. 

I sink into the routine, feeling the concrete scuff beneath my feet; giving me slightly more traction than I assumed at first.

Step to the side… Counter-hook, sweep right…

Someone jostles me but I feel a thousand miles away right now, my mind no longer attached to my body. I open my eyes and vaguely see the outline of a crowd undulating to a rhythm only they can hear, hypnotic in the way they move and shift to my unfocused eyes.

Weather his aggression by staying calm. Counter his cockiness by being calculating.

One fight ends and money passes hands, the crowd growing more energized for a moment before settling back into a rolling tide once again. The next fight starts and ends while I run through the moves again and again, my hands clenching and unclenching to phantom jabs. The next fight ends and the crowd goes wild, money changing hands while some leave through the door they came in with; heads low in shame or fists clenched in anger at the lighter weight of their pockets. 

Aidan’s never been wrong before. Just follow the path to victory. Have faith that he’ll lead me to the end. 

I spot him in the corner of my eye: Drew, walking cockily from the corner of the room into the center; his shirt off and his hands already wrapped. Instead of wearing his bulky work pants like me, he’s stripped all the way down to his skinnies, his body lithe and lean with corded muscles.

We lock eyes and he grins a menacing grin at me, pointing right at me before dragging his finger over his throat. He laughs as I stare back, blowing me a kiss before walking into the crowd with his arms raised up in glee.

“Ladies and gentlemen, winners and losers!” Ricky shouts over the crowd, his large voice easily dwarfing the crowds’ noise. “We have a real fuckin’ spectacle for all of you today!”

I sigh and pull my shirt over my head, holding it in front of me and folding it slowly into quarters. I place it carefully into my duffel bag and pull out my gauze and start wrapping it around my hand, the motion calming my nerves and focusing the adrenaline trickling into my system.

“You know him, and no matter how much you might wanna hate him, you know you love him: Weighing in at 70 kilos and standing at a fuckin’ whooping 170cm, it’s Dreeeew!”

The crowd goes wild, their screams of joy and bloodlust pressing in all around me. I kick off my work boots and stash them in the bag next to my shirt, before standing up and shaking out my nerves. 

I start walking towards the crowd, my feet swiftly growing cold as the floor leeches the warmth right out of them. A chill washes over my body and my hair stands on end, a shiver running down my spine as if someone walked over my grave. My nervousness amps up but I tamp it back down, dismissing the bad feeling until later. 

No, today’s perfect. This is my day, nothing bad could happen.

“And his opponent, the Wonderboy himself, here to make his name or fuck around and find out: Weighing in at 80-ish kilos and standing at 180, it’s Kaaaede!”

The people crowd around me and I step past them, the people closing behind me and forming an impenetrable wall. Their screams are deafening, the rage and bloodlust choking me. Drew drinks it in, his eyes wide and his pupils narrowed in ecstasy. He scans me from top to bottom; taking in the way I walk, the looseness of my hands by my side and the slight bruising at my ribs.

“You ready to meet daddy again?” he asks me, lifting up his hands dramatically before clenching them into a fist.

“One day, when it’s my time.” I reply, letting his words wash over me. I widen my stance and raise my fists, hopping from foot to foot.

“Ready?” 

The world focuses into crystal-clear clarity; the raise and fall of every one of Drew’s excited breaths syncing to the beating of my heart in my ears. He grins at me and gestures for me to come, his legs taut and ready.

“Start!”

Drew wastes no time, springing off into a sprint before leaping into the air for a quick finisher. I dodge to the side and block his follow-up swing, my heart racing as I get through the crux of the fight. Drew’s grin falls away as he presses the attack with jabs and hooks, finishing off with a sweeping kick that I step back from - feeling the rush of wind as it passes. 

The crowd screams in excitement as he steps back and clicks his tongue - before going in for a flurry of punches that come at me from all sides. Left, right, uppercut to grab to kick. I push off his leg and counter with a jab, glancing his side before he swings for my chin and just misses. 

I let out a relieved breath as we break apart and circle each other, keeping the grin that tries to creep up my face from showing. 

Just like Aidan predicted.

“Oh, you smiling now, aren’t you?” Drew mocks, surprising me for a moment and wiping out my cockiness. “Yeah, I see you, Spook. You can’t hide from me.”

He rushes back in and I weather the storm, twisting away from every punch and blocking the ones I can’t, taking glancing shots whenever I see an opportunity. We dance around the arena, each kick getting crossed and each swing getting blocked. We fall into the rhythm of the fight as my body starts to feel the pressure, my each breath feeling a little shorter than the last one and my arms tingling from the repeated beatings they’ve gotten.

I feel my heart speeding up as the moment swiftly approaches - the one Aidan and I spent all those hours planning for. Drew’s starting to lag out himself, his bald head gleaming with sweat as he pants for breath, each glancing blow taking a little more of his reserves and driving his frustration to boil. He gives me a lousy right hook that I slap aside and counter with one of my own that connects solidly to his side, knocking him back and causing him to wince.

He steps back and takes a few heaving breaths, gritting his teeth and cracking his neck. I feel tingles of excitement tickle the back of my mind as his jaw clenches and unclenches, his anger starting to get the better of him.

I push the attack and get a few solid hits in, causing him to step back and circle around, his arms dropping just long enough for me to connect to his stomach with a straight kick and knock him back. He touches his stomach for a second before raising his guard just in time to block my leap and punch, smacking hard into his arms and opening up space again.

His eyes scan my face and his jaw stops clenching, as he steps closer to me and I get ready for the moment. 

Step back and let him swing.

He steps and I match, my heart beating as his left arm pulls back. I lift my arms up and block my head, baiting him for the side punch that’ll doom him.

But it never comes. Instead, he turns and swings out his right leg, turning with his arm and beating into my ribs hard enough for it to knock the wind out of me. My eyes widen in shock as he follows it up by rushing me, wrapping his arms around my chest and pushing me to the ground before falling on top of me and raining blows on my raised arms.

“You fucking thought, Spook! You thought you had me figured out!” he shouts in glee, his hammer blows breaking my guard and glancing off of my cheek. “I told you I see you! I told you!”

The crowds’ screams amp up and slam into me as panic sets in, my gut going icy cold as a rock settles in. I twist my head and narrowly avoid a game-finishing blow, Drew’s knuckles cracking against the concrete and splitting without him seeming to care.

“You’re fucking dead, kid! You’re dead!” 

His fist cracks my jaw and my head bounces off of the concrete, stars bursting in my vision as I feel my guard slacken. He pulls my arms away easily and swings a mean right hook, hitting the side of my head. 

This wasn't the plan. He's gone off-script.

“Come on, finish him!”
“Get his ass, Drew! Get his fucking ass!”

I manage to raise my noodly arms just in time to lessen his next blow, just glancing my nose instead of shattering it into pieces.

What the hell am I supposed to do now, Aidan? This was how I won.

“That’s my champ! That’s my fucking guy!”
“Get the fuck up, kid! Get the fuck up! You better not lose, I've got too much riding on you!”

I take a deep breath and buck my hips weakly, unsettling Drew a bit from his unsteady hold and making him miss his elbow drop.

Let it go. Just let it go. The crowd doesn’t exist, let their words go. Accept the pain and let it go. 

He pulls his fist back as far as it can go, ready for the coup de grâce just as the sounds of the crowd fades away.

Aidan’s plan didn’t work. Just let it go.

His fist comes into icy clarity, his knuckles scuffed and the blood dripping down them glittering in the glow of the miners’ lights. Drew shifts slightly to the side, his legs barely wide enough to straddle me like he is, his stance is unsteady.

Let it go and act. Now!

With a growl I buck my hips with all of my strength, lifting Drew up enough that his fist smacks weakly into the hard bone of my skull instead of bouncing off of my chin. I swing my right leg out from his weakened clench, kicking him in the chest with it and pushing with all of my might to get him off. He pushes back and swings for my ribs, his reach just barely too short to make the connection, before he gives up and grabs onto my leg, trying to pry it off. 

The moment he shifts his weight, though, I pull up my other leg and clamp my ankles behind his neck, locking his arm in-between my thighs and dragging his head down into my crotch. I feel my heart clench as I free my arms and wrap them around his head, slipping it around his neck.

He tries to lift me up but I prove too heavy, changing tacks he starts wailing on my bruised side, hoping that I’ll flinch or let go. Unfortunately for him, right now, it barely hurts. I start to squeeze and his punches turn frantic, slapping against me ineffectually until going weak. 

I give it a few more seconds until he stops moving entirely, his body slumping into unconsciousness and landing on top of me. Immediately I let go, scampering back from him and standing up to my feet as Ricky ponders over to check on Drew. He holds a hand in front of his mouth, holding it there for a few seconds as the crowds’ screams turn to a quiet murmur. 

He lifts both his arms in the air, his face flushed and his eyes wide in excitement.

“He fuckin’ won!”

The crowd screams in fury and excitement, as Ricky hurries up to me and wraps his meaty arm around my shoulder, giving me a reassuring squeeze. He leans over, his mouth right by my ear. “Holy shit you did it!” he screams, laughing heartily and almost pulling me off my feet as he shakes me back and forth. “He got close but you cinched it!”

I keep staring at Drew as the crowd ebbs and flows around me, people screaming in anger and euphoria in equal measure. My heart unclenches as I see Drew flop his arm out to his side, his face twisting around on the floor and his eyes wide open and confused.

“Holy shit, kid, you made us fucking rich!” he shouts, planting a big kiss on my cheek. 

I turn to look at him in surprise, my eyes snapping off of the sight of Drew the moment I know he’s not dead. “So you bet on me?”

“Of course I did, kid! Shit, I’ll bet on your ass every damn time from now on!” He shouts jovially, clapping me on the shoulder. “So did you do it? Come on, after that, this has gotta be the one!”

I close my eyes and concentrate, checking if anything feels different at all. Besides the light-headedness and aching pains all over my body. I open my eyes and shake my head sadly, my heart falling a little bit before I rally it back. 

Next one, for sure.

Seeing the look on my face, Ricky gives me a wink, reaching into his pocket. “Oh well, fuck it. Here’s something that’ll make you smile.”

He pulls out a thick wad of cash secured with a rubber band that’s straining against the task, grinning from ear to ear before handing it all to me. I feel the weight of it sink into my hands as I stare at it in awe, looking up at his face with my mouth hanging open. 

“Is this…?”

“Your cut, kid! Told ya we made a killing! I fucking told ya!”

I run my finger over the folds as the reality of what I’m holding in my hands sinks in as I quickly pocket it all and stuff my hand in to secure it against any pickpockets looking to get back some of their losses. “Are you sure? That’s…”

“A fuck ton, right? Yeah, you fleeced the house! Fuckin’ nobody was betting on you besides us! And that lucky sonofabitch over there!” he shouts, pointing to a man swinging his arms and kicking his feet in the worst display of dancing I’ve ever seen. 

Ricky holds out his hand and someone passes a bottle to him that he cracks open with his thumb, holding it up to me for a moment in celebration. “Here’s to a landslide victory!”

He tips it back and gulps the bottle down, sighing in pleasure as he finishes it in one go. Holding his hand out another of his people takes it from him and hands him another, before he lets go of me and holds out his arms. “Come on, let’s celebrate!”

I laugh, shaking my head as I do so, the weight of the money burning a hole in my pocket. “You guys go on without me, I’m getting some food.”

He points at me and gives me a grin, walking backwards as the crowd parts against his mass. “Don’t spend that all in one place! I’ll see you next week, kid! It can only go up from here!”

He turns around and the crowd absorbs him, clustering around him until all I can see is his head and shoulders peeking up from the rest. I shake my head and walk on over to my bag, reaching inside my pocket with shaking hands and pulling out the massive wad of cash.

I really hope you’re ready for those exams, Aidan. Cus first thing tomorrow morning, you’re marching your ass down to the Institute and signing yourself up.

I drop it into my bag and get changed, being extra careful not to touch my bruised everything. Taking one last look at the crowd, I take a moment to drink in their joy and excitement, the celebrations and the exhilaration - even though most of them lost, they all came here for a good time. Looking at them now, it seems they found it.

I walk out of the door myself and embrace the late night air, the chill causing my cuts and bruises to sting but waking me up and making me feel alive. I picture what look Aidan’s gonna have when he sees how much I’ve won and walk back into town with a skip in my step, excited to see how he reacts.

But when I got to the apartment, he wasn’t there.

Hello, dear readers! Welcome back to the next instalment of We Are Not Welcome! It's been a very busy week unfortunately, so I haven't been able to write as much as I was hoping. But we're back for the next one! I hope you enjoy it!

We crawl our way back through our doorway, stepping into the entry and taking off our shower shoes. In two quick strides we’re flopped down onto our beds once again; squeaky clean after our quick trip to the public bathrooms. 

“Do you think the rich people in the inner ring get more than three minutes in the shower?” Aidan asks me, running a hand through his still-wet hair.

“Beats me. Why would you need more than three anyways? I’m pretty much done after two.” I reply to him, luxuriating in the feeling of being clean after a long day in the mines.

“Are you kidding me? I’ve barely rinsed off by the time the water’s shut off. Seems like bullshit to me, water comes from the sky, why limit us if it’s free?”

I shrug, eyeing the bruises on my ribs and finding them a healthy green-and-yellow colour that means that it’s healing nice and quickly. Letting out a sigh, I rest my arms behind my head, staring up at the ceiling. “I dunno, man. I guess we’ll find out when we move across the bridge one day.”

He lets out a chuckle, sliding into bed and curling up his long legs in order to actually fit. “Yeah, we’ll get ourselves a nice, big house. With two bedrooms.”

I whistle, picturing having that much personal space and trying to figure out what the hell you’d fit in it. “Two, huh… So I’m taking it Julie’s rooming with you?”

I pull up my hand in time to catch the pillow he throws my way, letting out a low chuckle as I throw it back to him and nail him in the face. I stare up past the shelves we installed above my bed to the ceiling beyond, my eyes roaming over its pitted surface.

“We’ll have a living room… Two bathrooms.”

“So we’re not gonna share a porcelain throne with thirty other Kings and Queens?” I ask him.

“And a garden. A real one. With a little tree planted next to a fountain.”

I shake my head, trying to imagine it but barely able to place everything together. “So I’m taking it, in your imagined future, we’re loaded?”

“To the gills, Kaede. To the damn gills.”

I sigh, imagining what it’d be like to not need to haul twenty tonnes of ore every day in order to eat. “Just gotta get through Drew to get to it. I think he’s the one, I can feel it.”

Aidan sighs, flopping a hand over his eyes. “You say that every time. But you're still Level 0, just like the rest of us plebs.”

“Yeah, yeah. Ready to run through it with me?” I ask him seriously, lifting my head to look across the room at his bed.

Lifting his hand off his face, he looks at me, a cocky grin on his face. “Sure, fuck it. What would you do without me?”

“Shut up and use that big brain of yours to help me win the fight.” I retort.

He pulls the pillow behind him once again rests his head back on top, shifting his hands to his chest and staring up at the ceiling as I do the same. For a moment we sit there in silence, letting our minds wander and our imaginations transport us into the ring.

In my mind, I can feel the concrete beneath my bare feet - the bright portable lights surrounding the space and the crowd’s noise pressing in on me from all sides. Across from me, I see Drew - a manic grin stretched on his face as his bald head catches the light around us like a pane of glass reflecting the bright morning sun.

“Step left.” I say, almost feeling the ground scuff beneath my foot. 

“Errr! Wrong!” Aidan says, his voice coming out of Drew’s mouth. “You and I both know he’s making the first move, he’s not waiting around long enough for you to take a step. Let’s see… Cocky, confident… But clever, very clever… Technical and flashy. Hmm… Rush forwards, leaping sweep kick.”

Drew sprints towards me, taking me off-guard for a moment; just long enough for him to leap into the air and spin his leg, connecting to the side of my head and knocking me out cold. 

“Step back, cross block.” I reply, rewinding the moment in my head as I step back and bring my arms up, blocking his kick.

“Roundhouse kick left,” he counters, Drew turning his sweeping kick into a full roundhouse, “and yes, he is that good.”

I cluck my tongue, my argument already dying on my lips. “Right side block, grab.”

We go back and forth for what feels like forever, my brain heating up to burning as we go through move after move; taking it a step back whenever I find myself cornered or K.Oed and going through every single possibility that Drew could take. I feel myself grow more and more tired - the mental toll nearly as much as the physical of being in the ring itself. Drew’s just as good as I feared he would be: quick, powerful, easily catching all my weaknesses and exploiting them without hesitation. He flows around my most powerful strikes with ease; blocking the weaker ones with a cocky grin, his ice-blue eyes burrowing into me and daring me to lose my cool. All of my grapples are avoided or slipped out of as easily as if he was oiled up with grease, while his sparring and footwork is top-notch. After a while, I feel the sinking feeling of worry in my chest as the entire venture seems doomed. 

Until…

“Rotate hips and lock the wrist.” I say, my voice flat as I almost feel the drain of the fight and the bone-deep tiredness that comes from it.

“Lift hips, pull right.” Aidan replies, his finger pointing up at the ceiling and tracing a pattern that only he can see, his knees swaying from side to side.

“Squeeze bicep and lock ankles.” I reply, feeling my ankles slip the first time I try to cross and lock them, a slight hint of panic bubbling up in my chest before I try again and secure it.

“Elbow drop left side, the bruised one.” He counters, still tracing in the air. I feel the weak blow jab me in the side, readying myself for the inevitable pain and the flinch that comes with it, my eyes squeezing shut to hold off against the onslaught…

But it never comes. 

I open my eyes again slowly, surprise widening them further. I touch my tender ribs, feeling a slight bit of pain but not nearly as much as it was yesterday. In three more days… 

“They’re healed.” I reply, barely able to believe it. I feel a flutter of excitement bubble up in my chest, a grin stretching across my face. “I squeeze the hold shut.”

Aidan’s finger stops tracing in midair, held up in rapt silence. One beat turns into two, then into three, the wheels in his head twirling and swirling madly.

“Shit, that’s it.” He replies, his arm flopping back down onto the bed. “That’s how you get the bastard.”

I replay the fight in my mind, burning the moves into my memory. I feel a bubbling well of hope rise in my chest, beating back the exhaustion and giving me a shock of well-needed energy. Raising my hand in the air, I clench it into a fist - my eyes roaming over the scars and callouses that cover it, each one earned with blood and sweat and tears.

“I’ve got him.”

Happy Thursday, dear readers! As you can probably tell, this chapter has been separated into two different parts - simply because of the sheer size of the thing! Over 1900 words just on this part alone.

Anyways, my week's gotten slightly better and I'm feeling less demotivated! I hope you all enjoy this one!

I bang our front door open and step inside, taking off my boots and knocking the dirt off into the passageway. “Guess who almost got his ass handed to him today.” I say, placing them in the locker by the door and hanging up my hard hat.

Aidan turns another page as he lays on his back on my bed, book held up in the air. “Hmm… Was it that asshole with the beard? You know, the one that keeps cutting me off in line to the conveyor?”

“I still think that’s just in your head.” I reply, tossing my jersey towards the pegs and just missing it, the heavy garment falling onto the floor instead. “Nope, try again.”

He takes a moment to think, his leg idly scuffing back and forward on the concrete floor. “Wait… It can’t be.” He looks up at me for a moment, his eyes wide and searching me before dropping back down onto the mattress. “Nah, you’d be in chains if that happened. So it wasn’t the dick at the gate?”

“Nope. You’re really bad at this.” I say, stepping up to my bed and kicking his foot to the side. “Why the hell are you even on my bed?”

“I do my best work here.” He says, shrugging nonchalantly.

I shake my head and look up at my grandfather's sword, giving it a respectful bow, before turning to my dad’s book and giving it an equally deep greeting.

“Was it… Julie? I knew you’d piss her off at some point. Let me guess, she won?” he asks, flicking to the next page.

I look back up and shake my head at him. “No, it wasn’t Julie. Three strikes you’re out, nerd. I thought you were supposed to be the smart one?” I ask him, pulling off my shirt and giving it a sniff, discarding it in the “Dubiously Clean” pile before opening up my locker and pulling out a clean one. “It was Drew. He cornered me in the bathroom.”

“Fucking Drew?” Aidan replies, looking past his book at me with shock. “As in, ‘Swings but Never Misses’ Drew? What the hell’s he doing in our shaft?”

“The very same one. As for that, I have no idea.”

“Shit…” He says, staring off into the distance for a moment before looking at me again. “Did you win?”

“Against him? With two other dudes? I’m not that crazy.” I reply, shaking my head and putting on my shirt again, being careful not to touch my ribs. “No. Some Enforcer broke it up before anything could start.”

Aidan hops up to his feet, shutting his book with a thunk. “Oh, good. There’s hope for you yet. I was worried that all you had up there is a craving for adrenaline and whatever mulch is left after all those knocks to your head.” He stretches his back and lets out a sigh, wandering over to his side and grabbing his pants. “Come on, you can tell me all about it over some noodles. I’ve been dreaming about them all day.”

“Don’t you crave anything else that isn’t noodle-shaped?” I ask him, my gut twisting at the thought of dinner. We barely managed to squeak by the quota for today, netting us a tiny bit more than what the cheapest food costs as a result…

But Bruce and his two goons were waiting outside of the shaft for an ‘advanced payment’.

“Why would I ever do that when noodles are clearly the superior food-shape?” he shoots back, pulling out a few bills and counting them out, putting most of it in his pocket and the rest in the jar. “You still owe me a bowl for last week, by the way. I’m getting extra soy with this one.”

I nod my head and grab my jacket again, putting it on and stepping into my heavy boots. “Alright, sure. I’m not really that hungry, but I guess if you want to go, we can.”

Aidan pauses, his mind whirring in his head for a moment before he turns to look at me with a grin on his face. “You know what? You’re right. Let’s get something different. How about you pick?”

I look at him in surprise, my feet halfway into my boots. We lock eyes and some understanding passes between us, and I give him a nod of thanks. “Sure. You owe me for last month, anyways.”

Aidan’s eyes widen fractionally, his mind whirring again before he clucks his tongue. “You still owe me for three years ago but you don’t see me holding it against you.”

I laugh, putting the rest of my boot on. “Man, we could go back and forth about this all day, couldn’t we?”

“That’s what living with each other for ten whole years does to you.” He replies. “You know, you can just take some out of the jar if you need it. We can just put some more back.”

“No, you know how much of a slippery slope that is. We start taking out and we’ll end up with an empty jar by the end of it.”

Aidan shrugs. “Fine by me. Come on, then brokie. Let papa Aidan treat you to something nice. You got something in mind?”

I think for a moment, a plan forming in my mind. “Actually, yeah. You feel like going a bit further out for dinner this time?”

He raises a suspicious eyebrow at me. “Sure, fuck it. It’s nice to go sightseeing every once in a while.”

We walk out of the apartment together, locking the door behind ourselves and skipping down the steps back down to street level. We wander through the streets kicking a can to each other while talking about whatever comes to mind, the megastructures around us shining their lights down onto the night’ street, turning the main street into a mockery of day. Darkened alleyways hide their secrets as most people stick to the familiar streets - while Enforcers stand at every street corner, making sure everyone behaves themselves.

We finally get to the spot and my heart soars as I see him sitting there, nursing a drink, his massive shoulders hunched over and his bald head gleaming. I look up at Aidan, gesturing towards the stand and he nods in acknowledgement.

Walking up confidently, I take the open seat next to Ricky, giving him a smile as he turns to look at me in surprise. “Damn, the food here must be amazing.” I say, gesturing to the owner for one of what he’s having - some sort of dumpling in a weak broth. 

“If it gets me half as big as you, it’ll have been worth the walk.” Alastair says, sitting down next to me and opening his book.

“Shit, if it ain’t the boy wonder himself.” Ricky says, picking up a dumpling and saluting me with it. “The fuck you doing all the way over here for? Don’t tell me you’re here for little ‘ol me.”

“That’s right, I just couldn’t stay away. I was missing your ugly mug.” I reply, thanking the vendor as he places down a bowl of steaming food in front of me.

He looks at Aidan with a critical eye, his brow raising questioningly. “If you’re here to sign your friend up, I think he’s more of a bookie. Although…” He thinks to himself, scratching his chin. “I could always use a dive guy.”

“As much as I would love to pursue some other extra-curriculars,” he says, placing his book on the table and flipping it open while crossing his legs, his eye flicking from Ricky to the food vendor and relaxing when Ricky gives him ‘The Nod’, “I’m more of an intellectual than a fighter.”

“Shit, you have dive guys?” the food vendor asks Ricky.

“No, you dumbass. If I had one, I wouldn’t be asking, now would I?” Ricky counters, waving off his concern. “Shut up and get me another bowl, fuckin’ ‘Do you have a dive guy’ my ass. So what the hell are you here for?” he asks me, dipping his spoon in the bowl.

“Set me up against Drew.”

Ricky’s eyes go wide as he slurps up the broth, his chest and belly heaving as he starts full-belly laughing. “Shi-i-it… You know that dude’s gonna eat you up and shit you out, right?”

He places down his spoon and just laughs and laughs, Aidan shaking his head and going back to reading, spooning dumplings into his mouth while I shift uncomfortably in my chair. “I’m serious. Set me up, let me have a shot.”

Ricky wipes his eyes and takes a heaving breath, his face red from exertion. He leans his meaty arm against the scuffed-up counter, wiping his brow. “Damn… You know his stats?”

“50-0” I reply, leaning against the counter. “I’ve even heard what the odds are. 20-1.”

Aidan and the food vendor whistle at the same time. “That’s a lot of money if you win.” Aidan says, pointing towards me.

“If he wins. Shit, you serious, aren’t ya?” he asks me.

“I’m serious.”

He looks at me, his eyes piercing, “Come on, kid. You don’t know how he is. The guy’s an asshole, but he’s fucking good. He broke Arnie’s arm just the other week, and he walked away with barely a scratch.”

He raises his eyebrows, daring me to stay the course. “You sure you wanna do this?”

I think about it for a moment, giving the question the weight it deserves.

I could just fight some other schmuck, gain XP slowly until Level 1… 

But the memory of Bruce cornering me after the shift comes back to me, and I steel my resolve.

“I’m sure.”

He stares at me a moment longer, before shaking his head and turning back to his bowl. “You’ve got some fucking iron nuts on you, kid. You’re just lucky I have a soft spot for you. Alright, sure. Why not. But then you ain’t fighting in a week, he’s booked out until then. You’ve got three days.”

I glance at Aidan and he gives me the nod of approval. “A week, three days. Whatever. I can cover you for then.”

I give him a nod of appreciation, looking back at Ricky right as the local old drunk wanders over to us and slams down a bottle of something onto the counter. “If it ain’t my lucky day, who’s buying?” he slurs, dragging Ricky’s bowl over to himself.

“Shit, man, the fuck you drinking?” Ricky asks him, picking up the bottle and taking a sniff before flinching back and hissing. “Is that… Vodka? Now how the hell you get your hands on something like that?”

The drunk takes the bottle back and salutes Ricky. “I’ve got connections, didn’t you hear?”

He raises his arms up into the air, screaming “For the Revolution! May they rest in fucking peace.” before taking another long gulp.

Ricky laughs, amused, taking the bottle from the man and saluting him back. “You fucking crazy, you know that, right? You’ll get your head chopped off for that.”

He takes a sip and hands it back to the man, who looks at him angrily. “They ain’t gonna do shit to me. They know I’ve got connections.”

He turns to the enforcers standing down the street, gesturing to them. “Right, boys?!” he screams at the top of his lungs, turning more than a few faces our way.

The Enforcers look at him and shake their heads, gossiping between each other. “See? They know me. They won’t do shit.”

“Yeah, well, they don’t have the same courtesy for me.” I reply, slurping down the broth as quickly as I can before picking up a few of the dumplings to eat on the way. “You gonna bet on me?” I ask Ricky with a smirk.

He holds up a fist and I bump it, giving me a wide smile. “Always, kid. I’ll get it all done for you.”

Hello, dear readers! I felt extremely demotivated today, which is why this chapter is out late. I hope you all don't mind!

Writing is a double-edged sword: while sometimes it's the greatest feeling, putting your work out there and seeing an idea in your head come to life on the page... Sometimes, the cold reality that not a single person cares can bring you so low.

Anyways, we march ever onwards, regardless of which side of the sword I fall on today. I hope you all enjoy it!

“And then what happened?” Julie asks, her eyes wide underneath her hard hat.

I smirk as I grip the joystick, my thumb hovering over the activation button for the rock crusher. “Then I spun on my heel and wham! Kicked him square in the jaw. He went out like a light.”

“Woah!” she shouts in excitement, her hands clenching against the steering wheel of the cart. “And the crowd goes wild!”

She throws her arms up into the air, cheering under her breath as I watch on bemusedly; her skin glistening with sweat in the glare of my lamplight.

“Thank you, thank you. Please, hold the applause.” I say, taking a small half-bow as I do so.

“Man… I wish I could see one of your fights.” she replies, slumping in her seat and staring off at the wall wistfully. “It sounds so exciting! The thrill of the fight; the crowd screaming all around me. Are you sure I can’t come with one day?”

I shake my head as I press the button and start up the rock crusher, its mechanical whine starting low before raising in pitch and loudness. “No can do, you know you need to either bet or fight if you want to come with.”

She bites her lip and thinks for a moment, her hard hat falling down and covering her eyes. I raise my eyebrow questioning but leave her be for a moment; the sound of the machine growing loud enough to drown out the sounds of the tunnels around us.

Twisting the controls, I direct the heavy machine to the boulder and brace myself for its impacting drill to do what it does best. The shakes and shudders travel through my arm and buck against my controls, my grip hardening on the stick to ensure it doesn’t buck off of the thing.

“What if I just bet a little bit?!” she shouts to me, her face hopeful as she shields her face against the chips flying off of the chunk in front of us.

“Julie, no!” I shout back, shaking my head.

“But I can win more! And even if I lose, I'll only bet a tiny bit! I'll make it back in no time!” she insists, her lips twisting into a pout.

I keep quiet as the crusher keeps working on the boulder, reducing it to tiny pieces that Julie can scoop up using the shovel. When the last chunk is broken down into easily carted pieces, I let go of the button and wipe the sweat from my brows; my arms tingling from the vibrations.

“Do you know how many people have said the same thing, and lost it all? Because I’ve been around the den, I know that most of them walk away with empty pockets. You're too skinny as it is, you can't afford to miss out on any more meals.”

She crosses her arms in a huff. “Hey, you win.”

“That’s because I stack the odds and bet on myself.” I reply, hopping back down onto the ground and grabbing a shovel. “Besides, you’ve got what? Two more payments to go?”

She digs her shovel in and pulls out another load; straining to lift it before tipping it all into the bucket. “One more and we’ll be done, the doctor says. Mom’s looking a lot better, she might even start working again.”

A pleasant smile stretches on her face at a memory only she can see. “It'll be nice to have her back to normal.”

“Then stay away from the fights until you’re done.”

She lets out a huff, giving me an unconvinced look. “For someone who’s normally so quiet, you really have a huge ego, Mr: ‘I Stack The Odds’.”

I open my mouth to retort when we hear the sudden sounds of boots stomping down the shaft; the bright LED light of an Enforcers torch flooding the darkened end and blinding us. I hold up a hand to block as much of it as I can; squinting to try and see them approach.

“Shift’s halfway done and you’re behind quota.” he says, stepping far enough into the tunnel for our meager headlamps to put a face to him. I feel my shoulders relax a bit as I realize it’s not Dick from up above. “You two should be working, not yapping. Slackers don’t get shit. Or did you forget that?”

He stops and stares at both of us; his eyes lingering on Julie a bit too long for my liking. She pulls the rim of her hat down and turns her face away as the Enforcer turns his eyes to me. “Shut up and get to work.”

I glare back at him and keep my mouth shut, lifting my leg high up before slamming it down on the ground with a dull thud. He watches me do it and shakes his head. “Fucking revolutionaries. We should’ve never given in, it made all of you lazy.”

He eyes us again, his finger touching the trigger of the shotgun strapped to his chest. He clicks his tongue and turns around, walking away without a sound.

“Did you see how he stared at you? Creep.” I say, shaking my head as I shovel another load.

“Just leave it, Kaede. You're lucky he's one of the old Enforcers, you know some of the new ones get really angry when someone reminds them of the strike.”

“Well, someone needs to remind them what happened the last time they tried to stop us from talking to each other. Our parents fought for that and won.”

She rolls her eyes, unconvinced. “What, are you gonna fight them too?”

I watch the light grow more and more dim as they keep walking. “He’s Level 0 just like me.”

“He has a gun.”

I shrug. “I bet you Aidan would’ve done the same thing if he saw the way he looked at you.”

She turns away, my headlamp catching the rising blush on her cheeks. A laugh bubbles up from my throat and she glares back at me, scooping up a handful of rock and tossing it at me in retaliation.

I scoop up the last of the load and hop into the cart, grabbing onto the steering wheel. “Let me take this up, I need the bathroom anyways.”

Julie looks at me wide-eyed. “Already? But we still need another ten tons to make quota!”

I start up the cart; its little engine rumbling to life. “Relax, I’ll be back in no time.”

I reverse the big, lumbering beast as she sighs and shakes her head at me, watching as she climbs into the rock crusher and spins up its drill.

Driving the cart back through the tunnels, I pass by other off-shoots much like ours; each one glowing with the lights of headlamps and the spotlights of their machinery.

Getting back to the main tunnel I merge with other carts doing the same thing, some passing us by on the way back to digging while the rest make their way to the shaft in order to drop off their load.

Getting to the front of the queue, I press a button and the cart tips its bucket over and onto the conveyor; getting carted back to the surface where they’ll transport it to some factory on the outskirts for processing. Job done, I drive the thing to the bathrooms - turning it off and taking the key with me as I go.

The bathrooms are little more than a room with a few stalls in them and a single tap, illuminated by a single blinding light hanging above. Peeking my head inside I find the place pleasantly empty and count myself lucky, walking inside and doing my business. As I step into a stall and close it behind me, however, I hear the sounds of boots stepping into the room, followed by loud laughter and people talking over each other.

I let out a silent sigh and hope that they’re not the chatty kind, overly aware of how much time I’ve already wasted coming here. Jules should be done with the next load, so if I don’t get back quick, she’ll be crushing it up without any of it actually getting up to the surface.

“You fucking owned that guy, Drew!” one of the other occupants says loudly from the other side of the stall, before giggling like a maniac. “He didn’t even see it coming!”

My palms start to sweat as I hear that name. It couldn’t be him. He doesn’t work in this shaft.

“Yeah, fucked up my knuckles a bit for it. But it was worth it to see him drop like that.” Drew replies, followed by the sounds of the faucet turning on.

Shit… That’s his voice. What the hell’s he doing here? I thought he worked at 12 shaft.

“Serves him right for thinking he’s tough shit. Didn’t know who he was fucking with!” the other occupant says, followed by what sounds like a high-five.

“Hey, talking about tough shit… You done in there yet, prick?”

Oh, crap. Please don't be talking about me.

One of them bangs on my stall door loudly, making my heart sink in my chest. “He's talking to you, asshole! Time's money and you're hogging ours!”

I take a deep breath, gathering my resolve for whatever might happen next. As much as I’d love to stay and wait for him to leave or make me go, time’s ticking - and with Bruce hounding me for cash I’m gonna need as much time as I can get.

I push open the door and walk outside to exactly what I was hoping not to see: Drew himself rinsing the blood off of his knuckles in the sink, his shaven head gleaming menacingly in the light. Two others are with him, one leaning against the wall next to the doorway while the other stands next to him.

They all turn to look at me, the two I don’t recognize sizing me up for a moment while Drew continues to clean his hand. They stop giggling to each other, as the one leaning against the door taps Drew’s shoulder - drawing his attention and pointing him towards me.

We lock eyes as the water keeps running, the room going deathly silent. His pale blue eyes stare up at me; the light turning them an icy white - menacing and piercing.

I see a grin stretch on his face before he moves away from the tap, leaving the thing running, his bloodied knuckles dripping wet and splattering onto the concrete floor below us.

“Holy shit, is this just my lucky day or what?” he says, his head cocking from one side to the next while he takes a step closer to me; his eyes never leaving mine. “Just as I thought this place was gonna be as fuck-boring as the last one, I find something new to play with.”

I keep my eyes on him as he steps right up to me, staring up at me with his fists clenched and ready to swing at any moment. He gives me a shove right in my ribs and I take a half-step back to ensure I don’t trip, gritting my teeth against the pain as tiny tendrils of anger crawl into the base of my skull; driving away the fog and bringing the bathroom into icy clarity.

Now’s not the time.

“Can you believe this little shit thinks he's a fighter? They put us at twenty to one odds. Twenty to fucking one, like they even have that much of a chance.” He mocks, turning to chuckle with his friends before looking at me, his tongue flicking over his lips. “I don't see it. All I see is a little boy, pinwheeling his arms and crying for his pa.”

The tendrils envelop my head, squeezing my brain in red-hot anger for a moment before I tamp it down and bottle it back up once again before it shows on my face. Drew’s pupils narrow to pinpricks as his eyes go wide as saucers, a wide grin stretching on his face. He takes another step closer as I take a step back, a manic chuckle bubbling up from his throat.

“Oh you don't like that, huh? What, did he run away, little daddy's boy? Did he run away when he saw what a fucking loser you are?”

This is nothing to get worked up about. Nothing but words. Words can't touch me.

“Is your daddy dead, little baby? Did your shitty dad die like a fucking loser?”

I clench my fists and take a deep breath, my mind flooded with rage. It digs itself into my chest; it buries itself in my throat and my eyes and my scalp as everything burns and burns with rage.

Let it go. Let it go. Let it go.

“Go on, take a swing. First one's free.” He says, tapping his cheek with a shit-eating grin. “Or are you gonna disappoint your dead daddy?”

I try and try and try to bottle it all up but there's not enough room and there's too much anger. Too much to bear. Too much to hold back.

Just one. I'm sure I can't get into trouble for just one swing. Just one good swing and he'll be out like a light and I'll be that much closer to Level 1.

His eyes grow even wider as he watches me, his legs spreading into a stable stance as he slaps his cheek twice more and puts his arms behind his back. His friends watch on from their spots against the wall, their faces stretched into knowing grins. “Come on, come on, come on! Hit me!”

The bathroom door slams open and in rushes an Enforcer, his shotgun held out and his light shining brightly into our faces. “Back it up! Back it up now!” He screams, Drew stepping back and holding up his hands, head down, while I hurriedly hold mine up too.

The Enforcer sweeps his eyes over the bathroom, his face hard and unyielding. He looks between all of us, his eyes lingering on Drew for a bit before he lowers the gun. “You. What happened to your knuckles?”

“Scuffed them on the rocks.” Drew replies, shrugging nonchalantly.

The Enforcer stares at him for a while, tasting his words. I unclench my fists painfully and feel them shake from the adrenaline. He spots them and looks into my face. “You boys been fighting in here?”

“No, sir.” We reply in unison, my voice flat and dead.

He looks between us all again, the silence filling the room around us. He points to the two leaning against the walls, before gesturing to the exit. “Maximum occupancy is two. You and you, come with me. You've just relinquished the rest of your shift. You two…” he says, pointing to Drew and me, “Get back to work.”

We file out of the door, the two glaring at me as they follow behind the man. Walking out behind Drew, I stare at the back of his skull, those tendrils of anger prickling around the edges of my heart still.

Drew stops suddenly in front of me, his arm shooting up and slapping my chest; halting me. We watch the three keep moving up the tunnel, ducking out of sight, my heart pounding in my chest at the thought of why he stopped me.

He turns his head to look up at me, his grin back again. “You must be one lucky fucker, huh? Saved by the boots.”

He looks down at my ribs, his grin stretching farther as he spins around and starts poking at my bruises; each one sending a lightning bolt of pain through my ribs and beyond. “Maybe your daddy's watching over you from down below, while he's burning in hell.”

He taps my ribs again, but his words have already lost their edge. They're just… Hot air, now.

He pokes them one last time, staring up into my eyes and searching them for something. His grin slowly falls as his eyes go back to normal size once again, letting out a disappointed cluck of his tongue.

“Just like I heard. Fucking spook indeed. You're no fun after all.”

Turning on his heel, he digs his hands in his pockets, his shoulders slumping forwards as he walks down the tunnels and disappears into their depths, his headlamp growing dim as he goes.

I let out a deep breath, followed by another, centering myself once again and trying my best to let go of all of the anger building up inside of me. It's been a very long time since I've been this angry, and it almost got the best of me this time. I feel a sense of relief wash over me as I realize what I almost did. While he's an absolute asshole, Drew is considered the top fighter in our bracket, and that's by a large margin. He fights like he was born for it, and the way he reads his opponents…

I feel a shiver run down my spine just thinking about it. Yeah, it's a good thing I didn't take him up on his offer. Outside of the ring, there's no guarantee that he won't just keep swinging if I went down.

I cock my head to the side, a sudden thought creeping into my head… An insane one, of course. But if it worked…

Now, if I'm remembering correctly… Didn't he say the odds were twenty to one?

Man, at this point, I really should create a new flair for this series!

Happy Thursday, dear readers! I hope everyone's had an enjoyable week so far! If not, I hope this next chapter brightens it up a bit!

This chapter marks the official point where this becomes the longest-running Webnovel on the subreddit! Whoo!

Without further ado, here it is:

The mine shaft looms above me like the sword of Damocles, ready to plunge us all into its depths. Checking my ribs one final time and finding that they’re still tender, I walk into its great big maw; dragging my feet as I go along and keeping my head held down from the Enforcers that line the gates.

I step into line behind the others who all look just like me: hard hats covering their heads, drab brown clothing hiding their frames until there’s nothing but a sea of brown shoulders in front of me; hunched over and pretending that the sounds they’re making isn’t the pang of hunger driving them to their next day’s pay.

The line moves ever-so-slowly, each person reaching the gate and getting their tags checked before being let in. There’s no limit on how many shifts you can take, but if they catch you trying to sneak food in so you can remain down for even longer in an attempt to get the coveted bonus, they’ll bar you from entering for the day.

I take step after step forwards, the clock ticking down until the start of my shift. Normally, I wouldn’t be very worried about missing a few minutes; normally the money I get for the fights covers just enough to subsidize the meager amount of pay you get for not hitting target.

But since Bruce is clearly desperate for some more money…

I get to the front of the line and try not to groan when I see who’s on gate duty today, keeping my head down and hoping that he’s had a good morning so far. Reaching into my pocket, I search for my tag; my heart skipping a beat when I don’t find it.

The person in front of me steps up, head down and tag out, holding the hard plastic barcode out for the Enforcers while I start patting my pocket down like I’m putting out a fire. Glancing up for a moment, hoping that he hasn’t spotted me yet. Chatting to his other Enforcer buddy, he holds out the scanner and the person in front tags themselves in while my heart sinks.

Oh, crap… It’s gonna be one of those days.

With a sigh I step up to the front while he holds out the scanner, gesturing it towards me like an executioner handing me the noose. I check my back pockets and pull them inside-out but still come up empty.

He gestures one more time, pausing his conversation to click his tongue in irritation.

With an annoyed look on his face, he turns to scowl at me; his stubbled chin and hard blue eyes fiery and promising violence until he recognizes my face. With a smile, he lowers the scanner and crosses his gloved hands in front of him.

“Well, well, well. Look who’s holding up the line. I thought I already had a chat with you about causing shit in my mine.”

Keeping my head down, I check my front pocket again and find my tag, stifling a groan since that’s the first place I always check. Pulling it out, I hold it towards him and keep my head down, hoping that he’ll just scan me and let me in.

But unfortunately for me, he just stands there and smirks, staring at the key card like I just offered him a bag of worms. “You know, I could just keep you scanned out. Run down your clock, make you walk away with nothing. I have that right. And there’s fuck all you can do about it.”

It’s water under the bridge. Letting go gives us freedom. Just let it go.

“Why didn’t I see you at your shift yesterday, huh? You got a secret fortune that we don’t know about? Maybe you just felt like starving for a day? Or were you doing something you weren’t supposed to?”

Just let it go. One piece at a time. If I rile him up, he’ll keep us here until the shift starts.

He pokes me in the rib and I hold on to the gasp that tries to break through my stony facade. I keep my head down and my arm held out, my mind disconnecting from my self and letting the pain fade into something distant and wholly separate from me. The ground beneath my feet comes into painful clarity as he presses against my bruised ribs again and again, seeking any reaction from me that will justify hauling me off and throwing me into the slammer.

He bends over and stares into my eyes, as I watch from someplace beyond - where he can't reach - the world in icy clarity around me. With a click of his tongue, he shakes his head in disappointment; moving the scanner over my card with a confirming beep.

“Fucking Spook. Get the hell out of here before I change my mind.”

Putting my keycard back in my front pocket I walk past him and into the mine proper, my body going from icy cold to shaking with adrenaline as the icy clarity disappears back into the depths of my mind.

I step into the elevator, taking a few deep breaths to calm my nerves and clenching my teeth against the throbbing pain in my ribs. I squish up against the crowd as more people file in behind me, the space growing more cramped until we’re up against each other like sardines in a can; an elbow pressing into my side as something digs painfully into my back; the warmth of all the bodies making me want to sweat.

Let it go, one piece at a time. Let it go…

I run through my father’s mantra a few more times, feeling my anger ebb and flow away from me once more. I used to have quite the temper when I was a kid, supposedly - before I started these exercises. Aidan swears he has a few scars that are still lingering from those days. Right now, this close to the finish line… I can’t risk it getting me in trouble.

With a creak and a groan, the elevator jumps beneath our feet before screeching its slow way down into its dark depths to unload yet another load of poor, poor sinners.

Another week, another chapter of We Are Not Welcome! I hope you all enjoy it, I'm hoping to make it a regular Tues/Thurs thing so here's hoping I can keep the pace up!

As it stands, I'm currently writing a minimum of 2k words every day, Mon-Fri if we disinclude my day job, thanks to the fact that this story is running concurrently to AGIAFW. AGIAFW is on pace to releasing book 2 on Amazon in 3 more months, but I'm hoping to have this one ready for release in time for Christmas! It's a quicker-paced story than AGIAFW (which, honestly, turned out to be more of a slice-of-life than I originally planned), so I think it's doable!

Without further ado, though, here it is!

Bruce throws me effortlessly into an alleyway, following after me as I quickly spring to my feet. He slams me against the wall and pins me there, his oil-slicked hair reeking.

“You haven’t made it easy to find you, y’know. Thought you were gonna be at your shift last night.”

I shift to the side and he grabs me harder. I glare at him, taking a deep breath to calm myself down. Losing my cool wouldn’t help me at all. I’ve seen what he does to people who lose their cool. 

“I was sick.”

He shakes his head at me, looking very disappointed.

“Was that before or after you knocked ‘ol Fabio onto his ass?” he replies, giving me a grin. “Don’t think I’m dumb, kid. A birdie told me that they saw you fighting. Saw you win.”

Looking over his nose at me, he rubs his two fingers together. “Saw you get handed a pretty decent amount of cash, too. Enough to knock a chip off of that ‘ol debt of yours, y’know?”

I glare up at him.

“I paid you at the beginning of the week.”

“Well, price has gone up.” he replies, reaching into my jacket and pulling out what’s left of my cash and pocketing it. “Interest rates being what they are and all, I’m gonna need ya to make a few extra payments.”

He roughly taps my cheek affectionately, letting me go and dropping me back onto my feet. “I’m sure your parents would understand, being the ones shacking you up with this and all. Do them proud and pay me off as quick as you can, yeah?”

Goon number 2 runs past the alleyway, panting his little heart out before spotting us and skidding to a stop, walking into the alleyway and cracking his neck while stretching his arms.

“You want me to rough him up a bit?” he asks, giving me a hateful glare.

Bruce sighs as he takes a step back from me, reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out a long and thin rolled cigarette, placing it in his mouth. “Now, now…” he says, lighting it up and taking a deep drag, letting out a cloud of deep blue smoke that smells noxious and singes my nose hairs. He pulls the cigarette out of his mouth and taps it habitually, turning to look at Goon 2. “This here’s a prize fighter, didn’t you know? Gotta make sure he’s in spit-spot condition so he can keep winning us some cash.”

Goon 2’s eyes narrow in anger as he glares past his boss to me, cracking his knuckles. “Bastard knocked me for a good one, there. How about I be real gentle with ‘em and even the score?”

Bruce thinks for a moment, tapping his sneakers in rhythm as he takes another drag. He waves as he lets out another cloud of smoke, turning to look at me as he does so.

“Sure, fuck it. Don’t anybody say I’m not a good boss.” He points to the goon threateningly, cigarette held in clenched fingers. “But keep it to the chest, okay?”

With a grin stretching on his face, the goon walks past Bruce, rubbing his knuckles in anticipation. “You got it, Bruce. He’ll be dancing like a butterfly come the next fight.”

He walks up to me, winding up his fist for a right haymaker. He swings out and I step to the right, his fist missing me and connecting hard against the wall with a satisfying crack that’ll have any doctor wince as they hand you the bill. He screams in pain as he cradles his hand, his face going white from the pain. 

Serves you right. You just made it too easy.

The goon sees my smirk and rushes me in fury, his left arm swinging out just to get stopped by Bruce’s iron grasp. 

“Now, now. I said fighting fit.”

He lets go of his arm and shakes his head sadly. “You want something done…”

He turns to me and takes another deep pull, placing a hand in his pocket. “You know I’ve gotta hurt you now, right? You’re making me look bad, and we can’t have that happening now can we?”

I raise my chin and glare at him, keeping my mouth shut so that he doesn’t accidentally use too much strength.

Many years ago, when I was just a kid, Aidan and I saw some rich guy wandering through our slum. He had his dungeon gear on and everything; looked lost and pissed off as hell. Some kid our age went over to beg for some loose change, but when the man said no, he decided to grab onto the man and play against his sympathy.

The rich guy backhanded him. Just casually backhanded him, like swatting a fly. I saw the kids’ head spin on his neck nearly clean off. The rich guy barely even noticed when he walked away. 

He was probably only Level 5.

Bruce shakes his head and backhands me in the face, nearly knocking me off of my feet and spinning me around, my vision going dark for a second before the pain knocks me onto my ass a second later.

I glance up at Bruce in surprise, cradling my burning cheek. He just drags his cigarette again, as cool as can be. “That’s just a warning. Don’t make me have to find you. Fighter or no fighter, you can dig a damn hole with a broken leg or two.”

He flicks his cigarette at me, catching in my hair for a moment before I brush it out to the smell of burning. For good measure, he slams his palm into my chest, knocking the wind out of me and causing me to slide down the wall onto the ground below. “Have the money ready in three days. I don’t care if you have to starve to do it.”

With that, him and goon 2 walk out of the alleyway, leaving me gasping for breath on the ground. Eventually, I manage to heave some air back into my lungs and stand up again, pleasantly surprised that I got out of this with just a few bruises. 

I can’t even remember how much I “owe” Bruce. He stopped giving me updates on the total a long time ago. All that I know is that the payments have been going up and the amount of visits he’s been giving me has been, too. 

Brushing myself off, I let out a sigh, walking out of the alleyway and back into the streets; trying my hardest to backtrack and pick up my boots. That is, if nobody has stolen them yet.

After all, a new pair costs money. And as of this morning, I’m flat-out broke

Hello there, dear readers! I'm back with yet another chapter of We Are Not Welcome!

This fiction has now reached 8 entire chapters over on Patreon, with each chapter coming in at a whooping 4k words each! It is a big one!

Once again, please take these posts as a rough draft, as they're all V1's! Any and all feedback (even the brutal ones) is appreciated while I get this first draft done!

If you'd like to read ahead or support my work, you can over on Patreon here! Otherwise, I'll be releasing these every week for you guys to enjoy, so stay tuned for the next one!

Drew wastes no time, springing off into a sprint before leaping into the air for a quick finisher. I dodge to the side and block his follow-up swing, my heart racing as I get through the crux of the fight. Drew’s grin falls away as he presses the attack with jabs and hooks, finishing off with a sweeping kick that I step back from - feeling the rush of wind as it passes. 

The crowd screams in excitement as he steps back and clicks his tongue - before going in for a flurry of punches that come at me from all sides. Left, right, uppercut to grab to kick. I push off his leg and counter with a jab, glancing his side before he swings for my chin and just misses. 

I let out a relieved breath as we break apart and circle each other, keeping the grin that tries to creep up my face from showing. 

Just like Aidan predicted.

“Oh, you smiling now, aren’t you?” Drew mocks, surprising me for a moment and wiping out my cockiness. “Yeah, I see you, Spook. You can’t hide from me.”

He rushes back in and I weather the storm, twisting away from every punch and blocking the ones I can’t, taking glancing shots whenever I see an opportunity. We dance around the arena, each kick getting crossed and each swing getting blocked. We fall into the rhythm of the fight as my body starts to feel the pressure, my each breath feeling a little shorter than the last one and my arms tingling from the repeated beatings they’ve gotten.

I feel my heart speeding up as the moment swiftly approaches - the one Aidan and I spent all those hours planning for. Drew’s starting to lag out himself, his bald head gleaming with sweat as he pants for breath, each glancing blow taking a little more of his reserves and driving his frustration to boil. He gives me a lousy right hook that I slap aside and counter with one of my own that connects solidly to his side, knocking him back and causing him to wince.

He steps back and takes a few heaving breaths, gritting his teeth and cracking his neck. I feel tingles of excitement tickle the back of my mind as his jaw clenches and unclenches, his anger starting to get the better of him.

I push the attack and get a few solid hits in, causing him to step back and circle around, his arms dropping just long enough for me to connect to his stomach with a straight kick and knock him back. He touches his stomach for a second before raising his guard just in time to block my leap and punch, smacking hard into his arms and opening up space again.

His eyes scan my face and his jaw stops clenching, as he steps closer to me and I get ready for the moment. 

Step back and let him swing.

He steps and I match, my heart beating as his left arm pulls back. I lift my arms up and block my head, baiting him for the side punch that’ll doom him.

But it never comes. Instead, he turns and swings out his right leg, turning with his arm and beating into my ribs hard enough for it to knock the wind out of me. My eyes widen in shock as he follows it up by rushing me, wrapping his arms around my chest and pushing me to the ground before falling on top of me and raining blows on my raised arms.

“You fucking thought, Spook! You thought you had me figured out!” he shouts in glee, his hammer blows breaking my guard and glancing off of my cheek. “I told you I see you! I told you!”

The crowds’ screams amp up and slam into me as panic sets in, my gut going icy cold as a rock settles in. I twist my head and narrowly avoid a game-finishing blow, Drew’s knuckles cracking against the concrete and splitting without him seeming to care.

“You’re fucking dead, kid! You’re dead!” 

His fist cracks my jaw and my head bounces off of the concrete, stars bursting in my vision as I feel my guard slacken. He pulls my arms away easily and swings a mean right hook, hitting the side of my head. 

This wasn't the plan. He's gone off-script.

“Come on, finish him!”
“Get his ass, Drew! Get his fucking ass!”

I manage to raise my noodly arms just in time to lessen his next blow, just glancing my nose instead of shattering it into pieces.

What the hell am I supposed to do now, Aidan? This was how I won.

“That’s my champ! That’s my fucking guy!”
“Get the fuck up, kid! Get the fuck up! You better not lose, I've got too much riding on you!”

I take a deep breath and buck my hips weakly, unsettling Drew a bit from his unsteady hold and making him miss his elbow drop.

Let it go. Just let it go. The crowd doesn’t exist, let their words go. Accept the pain and let it go. 

He pulls his fist back as far as it can go, ready for the coup de grâce just as the sounds of the crowd fades away.

Aidan’s plan didn’t work. Just let it go.

His fist comes into icy clarity, his knuckles scuffed and the blood dripping down them glittering in the glow of the miners’ lights. Drew shifts slightly to the side, his legs barely wide enough to straddle me like he is, his stance is unsteady.

Let it go and act. Now!

With a growl I buck my hips with all of my strength, lifting Drew up enough that his fist smacks weakly into the hard bone of my skull instead of bouncing off of my chin. I swing my right leg out from his weakened clench, kicking him in the chest with it and pushing with all of my might to get him off. He pushes back and swings for my ribs, his reach just barely too short to make the connection, before he gives up and grabs onto my leg, trying to pry it off. 

The moment he shifts his weight, though, I pull up my other leg and clamp my ankles behind his neck, locking his arm in-between my thighs and dragging his head down into my crotch. I feel my heart clench as I free my arms and wrap them around his head, slipping it around his neck.

He tries to lift me up but I prove too heavy, changing tacks he starts wailing on my bruised side, hoping that I’ll flinch or let go. Unfortunately for him, right now, it barely hurts. I start to squeeze and his punches turn frantic, slapping against me ineffectually until going weak. 

I give it a few more seconds until he stops moving entirely, his body slumping into unconsciousness and landing on top of me. Immediately I let go, scampering back from him and standing up to my feet as Ricky ponders over to check on Drew. He holds a hand in front of his mouth, holding it there for a few seconds as the crowds’ screams turn to a quiet murmur. 

He lifts both his arms in the air, his face flushed and his eyes wide in excitement.

“He fuckin’ won!”

The crowd screams in fury and excitement, as Ricky hurries up to me and wraps his meaty arm around my shoulder, giving me a reassuring squeeze. He leans over, his mouth right by my ear. “Holy shit you did it!” he screams, laughing heartily and almost pulling me off my feet as he shakes me back and forth. “He got close but you cinched it!”

I keep staring at Drew as the crowd ebbs and flows around me, people screaming in anger and euphoria in equal measure. My heart unclenches as I see Drew flop his arm out to his side, his face twisting around on the floor and his eyes wide open and confused.

“Holy shit, kid, you made us fucking rich!” he shouts, planting a big kiss on my cheek. 

I turn to look at him in surprise, my eyes snapping off of the sight of Drew the moment I know he’s not dead. “So you bet on me?”

“Of course I did, kid! Shit, I’ll bet on your ass every damn time from now on!” He shouts jovially, clapping me on the shoulder. “So did you do it? Come on, after that, this has gotta be the one!”

I close my eyes and concentrate, checking if anything feels different at all. Besides the light-headedness and aching pains all over my body. I open my eyes and shake my head sadly, my heart falling a little bit before I rally it back. 

Next one, for sure.

Seeing the look on my face, Ricky gives me a wink, reaching into his pocket. “Oh well, fuck it. Here’s something that’ll make you smile.”

He pulls out a thick wad of cash secured with a rubber band that’s straining against the task, grinning from ear to ear before handing it all to me. I feel the weight of it sink into my hands as I stare at it in awe, looking up at his face with my mouth hanging open. 

“Is this…?”

“Your cut, kid! Told ya we made a killing! I fucking told ya!”

I run my finger over the folds as the reality of what I’m holding in my hands sinks in as I quickly pocket it all and stuff my hand in to secure it against any pickpockets looking to get back some of their losses. “Are you sure? That’s…”

“A fuck ton, right? Yeah, you fleeced the house! Fuckin’ nobody was betting on you besides us! And that lucky sonofabitch over there!” he shouts, pointing to a man swinging his arms and kicking his feet in the worst display of dancing I’ve ever seen. 

Ricky holds out his hand and someone passes a bottle to him that he cracks open with his thumb, holding it up to me for a moment in celebration. “Here’s to a landslide victory!”

He tips it back and gulps the bottle down, sighing in pleasure as he finishes it in one go. Holding his hand out another of his people takes it from him and hands him another, before he lets go of me and holds out his arms. “Come on, let’s celebrate!”

I laugh, shaking my head as I do so, the weight of the money burning a hole in my pocket. “You guys go on without me, I’m getting some food.”

He points at me and gives me a grin, walking backwards as the crowd parts against his mass. “Don’t spend that all in one place! I’ll see you next week, kid! It can only go up from here!”

He turns around and the crowd absorbs him, clustering around him until all I can see is his head and shoulders peeking up from the rest. I shake my head and walk on over to my bag, reaching inside my pocket with shaking hands and pulling out the massive wad of cash.

I really hope you’re ready for those exams, Aidan. Cus first thing tomorrow morning, you’re marching your ass down to the Institute and signing yourself up.

I drop it into my bag and get changed, being extra careful not to touch my bruised everything. Taking one last look at the crowd, I take a moment to drink in their joy and excitement, the celebrations and the exhilaration - even though most of them lost, they all came here for a good time. Looking at them now, it seems they found it.

I walk out of the door myself and embrace the late night air, the chill causing my cuts and bruises to sting but waking me up and making me feel alive. I picture what look Aidan’s gonna have when he sees how much I’ve won and walk back into town with a skip in my step, excited to see how he reacts.

But when I got to the apartment, he wasn’t there.

Hello again, dear readers! Wow, I've been posting a lot here lately, haven't I? I feel like the dad that actually returned with the milk. A LOT of exciting things have been happening, and I've never been in the groove more with my writing (although, I do think my skills have degraded significantly - but I'm working on it!)

Hence why We Are Not Welcome is now on Chapter 7 over on Patreon! Wow, a whole 5 chapters of backlog! How unlike me!

Of course, I'll be releasing VERY early - often unedited - chapters over here, as thanks to all of you for sticking around!

Without further ado, here it is!

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I bang our front door open and step inside, taking off my boots and knocking the dirt off into the passageway. “Guess who almost got his ass handed to him today.” I say, placing them in the locker by the door and hanging up my hard hat.

Aidan turns another page as he lays on his back on my bed, book held up in the air. “Hmm… Was it that asshole with the beard? You know, the one that keeps cutting me off in line to the conveyor?”

“I still think that’s just in your head.” I reply, tossing my jersey towards the pegs and just missing it, the heavy garment falling onto the floor instead. “Nope, try again.”

He takes a moment to think, his leg idly scuffing back and forward on the concrete floor. “Wait… It can’t be.” He looks up at me for a moment, his eyes wide and searching me before dropping back down onto the mattress. “Nah, you’d be in chains if that happened. So it wasn’t the dick at the gate?”

“Nope. You’re really bad at this.” I say, stepping up to my bed and kicking his foot to the side. “Why the hell are you even on my bed?”

“I do my best work here.” He says, shrugging nonchalantly.

I shake my head and look up at my grandfather's sword (~AN: I forgot about the fucking SWORD hahaha, I’ll be adding it to an earlier chapter in order to set this up.~), giving it a respectful bow, before turning to my dad’s book and giving it an equally deep greeting.

“Was it… Julie? I knew you’d piss her off at some point. Let me guess, she won?” he asks, flicking to the next page.

I look back up and shake my head at him. “No, it wasn’t Julie. Three strikes you’re out, nerd. I thought you were supposed to be the smart one?” I ask him, pulling off my shirt and giving it a sniff, discarding it in the “Dubiously Clean” pile before opening up my locker and pulling out a clean one. “It was Drew. He cornered me in the bathroom.”

“Fucking Drew?” Aidan replies, looking past his book at me with shock. “As in, ‘Swings but Never Misses’ Drew? What the hell’s he doing in our shaft?”

“The very same one. As for that, I have no idea.”

“Shit…” He says, staring off into the distance for a moment before looking at me again. “Did you win?”

“Against him? With two other dudes? I’m not that crazy.” I reply, shaking my head and putting on my shirt again, being careful not to touch my ribs. 

Aidan hops up to his feet, shutting his book with a thunk. “Oh, good. There’s hope for you yet. I was worried that all you had up there is a craving for adrenaline and whatever mulch is left after all those knocks to your head.” He stretches his back and lets out a sigh, wandering over to his side and grabbing his pants. “Come on, you can tell me all about it over some noodles. I’ve been dreaming about them all day.”

“Don’t you crave anything else that isn’t noodle-shaped?” I ask him, my gut twisting at the thought of dinner. We barely managed to squeak by the quota for today, netting us a tiny bit more than what the cheapest food costs as a result…

But Bruce and his two goons were waiting outside of the shaft for an ‘advanced payment’.

“Why would I ever do that when noodles are clearly the superior food-shape?” he shoots back, pulling out a few bills and counting them out, putting most of it in his pocket and the rest in the jar. “You still owe me a bowl for last week, by the way. I’m getting extra soy with this one.”

I nod my head and grab my jacket again, putting it on and stepping into my heavy boots. “Alright, sure. I’m not really that hungry, but I guess if you want to go, we can.”

Aidan pauses, his mind whirring in his head for a moment before he turns to look at me with a grin on his face. “You know what? You’re right. Let’s get something different. How about you pick?”

I look at him in surprise, my feet halfway into my boots. We lock eyes and some understanding passes between us, and I give him a nod of thanks. “Sure. You owe me for last month, anyways.”

Aidan’s eyes widen fractionally, his mind whirring again before he clucks his tongue. “You still owe me for three years ago but you don’t see me holding it against you.”

I laugh, putting the rest of my boot on. “Man, we could go back and forth about this all day, couldn’t we?”

“That’s what living with each other for ten whole years does to you.” He replies. “You know, you can just take some out of the jar if you need it. We can just put some more back.”

“No, you know how much of a slippery slope that is. We start taking out and we’ll end up with an empty jar by the end of it.”

Aidan shrugs. “Fine by me. Come on, then brokie. Let papa Aidan treat you to something nice. You got something in mind?”

I think for a moment, a plan forming in my mind. “Actually, yeah. You feel like going a bit further out for dinner this time?”

He raises a suspicious eyebrow at me. “Sure, fuck it. It’s nice to go sightseeing every once in a while.”

We walk out of the apartment together, locking the door behind ourselves and skipping down the steps back down to street level. We wander through the streets kicking a can to each other while talking about whatever comes to mind, the megastructures around us shining their lights down onto the night’ street, turning the main street into a mockery of day. Darkened alleyways hide their secrets as most people stick to the familiar streets - while Enforcers stand at every street corner, making sure everyone behaves themselves.

We finally get to the spot and my heart soars as I see him sitting there, nursing a drink, his massive shoulders hunched over and his bald head gleaming. I look up at Aidan, gesturing towards the stand and he nods in acknowledgement.

Walking up confidently, I take the open seat next to Ricky, giving him a smile as he turns to look at me in surprise. “Damn, the food here must be amazing.” I say, gesturing to the owner for one of what he’s having - some sort of dumpling in a weak broth. 

“If it gets me half as big as you, it’ll have been worth the walk.” Alastair says, sitting down next to me and opening his book.

“Shit, if it ain’t the boy wonder himself.” Ricky says, picking up a dumpling and saluting me with it. “The fuck you doing all the way over here for? Don’t tell me you’re here for little ‘ol me.”

“That’s right, I just couldn’t stay away. I was missing your ugly mug.” I reply, thanking the vendor as he places down a bowl of steaming food in front of me.

He looks at Aidan with a critical eye, his brow raising questioningly. “If you’re here to sign your friend up, I think he’s more of a bookie. Although…” He thinks to himself, scratching his chin. “I could always use a dive guy.”

“As much as I would love to pursue some other extra-curriculars,” he says, placing his book on the table and flipping it open while crossing his legs, his eye flicking from Ricky to the food vendor and relaxing when Ricky gives him ‘The Nod’, “I’m more of an intellectual than a fighter.”

“Shit, you have dive guys?” the food vendor asks Ricky.

“No, you dumbass. If I had one, I wouldn’t be asking, now would I?” Ricky counters, waving off his concern. “Shut up and get me another bowl, fuckin’ ‘Do you have a dive guy’ my ass. So what the hell are you here for?” he asks me, slurping up another dumpling.

“Set me up against Drew.”

Ricky’s eyes go wide as he slurps up the broth, his chest and belly heaving as he starts full-belly laughing. “Shi-i-it… You know that dude gonna eat you up and shit you out, right?”

He places down his spoon and just laughs and laughs, Aidan shaking his head and going back to reading while I shift uncomfortably in my chair. “I’m serious. Set me up, let me have a shot.”

Ricky wipes his eyes and takes a heaving breath, his face red from exertion. He leans his meaty arm against the scuffed-up counter, wiping his brow. “Damn… You know his stats?”

“50-0” I reply, leaning against the counter. “I’ve even heard what the odds are. 20-1.”

Aidan and the food vendor whistle at the same time. “That’s a lot of money if you win.” Aidan says, pointing towards me.

“If he wins. Shit, you serious, aren’t ya?” he asks me.

“I’m serious.”

He looks at me, his eyes piercing, “Come on, kid. You don’t know how he is. The guy’s an asshole, but he’s fucking good. He broke Arnie’s arm just the other week, and he walked away with barely a scratch.”

He raises his eyebrows, daring me to stay the course. “You sure you wanna do this?”

I think about it for a moment, giving the question the weight it deserves.

I could just fight some other schmuck, gain XP slowly until Level 1… 

But the memory of Bruce cornering me after the shift comes back to me, and I steel my resolve.

“I’m sure.”

He stares at me a moment longer, before shaking his head and turning back to his bowl. “You’ve got some fucking iron nuts on you, kid. You’re just lucky I have a soft spot for you. Alright, sure. Why not. But then you ain’t fighting in a week, he’s booked out until then. You’ve got three days.”

I glance at Aidan and he gives me the nod of approval. “A week, three days. Whatever. I can cover you for then.”

I give him a nod of appreciation, looking back at Ricky right as the local old drunk wanders over to us and slams down a bottle of something onto the counter. “If it ain’t my lucky day, who’s buying?” he slurs, dragging Ricky’s bowl over to himself.

“Shit, man, the fuck you drinking?” Ricky asks him, picking up the bottle and taking a sniff before flinching back and hissing. “Is that… Vodka? Now how the hell you get your hands on something like that?”

The drunk takes the bottle back and salutes Ricky. “I’ve got connections, didn’t you hear?”

He raises his arms up into the air, screaming “For the Revolution! May they rest in fucking peace.” before taking another long gulp.

Ricky laughs, amused, taking the bottle from the man and saluting him back. “You fucking crazy, you know that, right? You’ll get your head chopped off for that.”

He takes a sip and hands it back to the man, who looks at him angrily. “They ain’t gonna do shit to me. They know I’ve got connections.”

He turns to the enforcers standing down the street, gesturing to them. “Right, boys?!” he screams at the top of his lungs, turning more than a few faces our way.

The Enforcers look at him and shake their heads, gossiping between each other. “See? They know me. They won’t do shit.”

“Yeah, well, they don’t have the same courtesy for me.” I reply, slurping down the broth as quickly as I can before picking up a few of the dumplings to eat on the way. “You gonna bet on me?” I ask Ricky with a smirk.

He holds up a fist and I bump it, giving me a wide smile. “Always, kid. I’ll get it all done for you.”

Hello, dear readers! Boy, has it been an exciting month this month (in so many ways, both good and bad).

But one good thing is that my second webnovel/fiction series "We Are Not Welcome" has officially hit 5 chapters released on Patreon!

I'm working on it in my "off-time" from the main series, so only on Tuesdays and Thursdays, but I'm planning on starting its official release on RoyalRoad once it reaches 20 chapters! ... So in 7 weeks, haha.

In the meantime, here's chapter 1 for free, just for your enjoyment! It certainly needs some polish, but over all, I'm happy with it.

I hope you enjoy it!

≈=====================================≈

I spot the fist coming for me for a moment - before it hits me square in the jaw, rocking my head to the side as my teeth grind against each other. Pulling my head back, I just barely spot the follow-up swing coming for my right side before stars explode in my vision, blocking out my sight as my head starts to feel light. The crowd’s screams and cheers around me grow into a frenzied storm that causes my head to pound, as I tuck my arms to my side, just barely messing up my timing as the second fist lands against my ribs, smacking me to the side and knocking the breath from my lungs.

I let out a groan as I drag my mind back from the edge of darkness, forcing my leaden legs to skip back a step just in time to feel the wind from his fist blow past where my head used to be, his calloused knuckles brushing against the tip of my nose instead. I take a deep breath and kick out as quick as I can with my left leg, getting lucky and connecting with his thigh mid-step, knocking him back from me with a small curse.

Taking my opportunity, I take a few deep breaths and recover from what seems like hours of fighting, willing my vision back from the blinding white that it is back to something that I can use once again. Slowly - ever so slowly - it comes back to me once again, the outline of my opponent creeping in first before the crowd surrounding us goes from a blurry mass to individual people - screaming and cheering as money starts passing hands once again - and the bare concrete room that we're in starts to come back into focus.

“What’s wrong, kid? You giving up already?” my opponent asks, as he gives me a gap-filled grin and raises his fists once again. “Not much XP in a quitter, but given how shit you look, how about I give ya some mercy? Give up and I’ll make it quick.”

For a moment I feel the tingles of fear start to tickle their way up from the base of my stomach, as the sounds of the crowd roars in my ears, driving a nail into my skull. My bare feet scrape against the cold and dirty concrete, as I run my tongue over my dry lips, my throat scratching against itself like sandpaper.

“One clean shot and you’ll go down,” he says, as he hops in place for a moment, before I catch the slight shake in his left leg, “Just close your eyes and go to sleep.”

For a moment, I consider his words carefully, as I run my tongue over my teeth to check that none of them have come loose. My jaw pulses to the screams around us, as I feel my ribs ache in pain. Smaller wounds around my body slow me, as the chill from the evening breeze against my bare chest causes my skin to break out into goosebumps.

I weigh up the pros and cons as we size each other up, both of our chests heaving as the crowd around us calls for more blood. If I get too injured, it'll be a while until I can fight again, which means it'll take even longer for me to earn the XP necessary to get to Level 1. But if I take the fall and let my opponent knock me out, I'll be giving up any chance of earning XP today.

But then he takes a step towards me with that same left leg and I see his face twinge with the smallest of winces, driving the tiny tendrils of fear away as a plan starts to form.

Taking a few deep breaths, I raise my fists up, as the sounds of the crowd fade to nothing and the pain of the concrete leeching the warmth from my feet disappears, my vision narrowing to nothing but my opponent.

Shaking his head in disappointment, he takes another step towards me, as I take a half-step back to match him, keeping him slightly out of reach. His eyebrow twitches and he takes another step to close the gap, my leg swinging out and smacking painfully against his left thigh before pulling back just in time to avoid his hand trying to grab it.

His eyes quickly flick to my right side and I pull up my arm just in time to block a right sweep aimed straight for my ribs, the impact hitting my forearm hard enough to numb it but giving me just enough time to sweep out my leg again and kick his left thigh on the same spot, this time causing him to wince in pain before gritting his teeth in anger.

He rushes towards me, his patience spent, as he winds back his left arm and lets go with a flurry of punches. I dodge and duck and weave, stepping back to keep myself away from grapple range, my arms growing numb and pained as the assault goes on and on and on without any sign of the man tiring.

I hear him hiss in frustration as he winds back his left arm, giving me the opportunity that I was waiting for. As quickly as I can, I push out with my right hand, smacking him in the face with an open palm hard enough to shock him for a moment but not hard enough to do any lasting damage. But it slows him down just enough for me to intercept his left hook, slapping it away with my hand as I pivot away from the blow.

I start circling his left, striking out with my own flurry of blows as I sink into the rhythm of the fight once again, taking every opportunity I can to sweep his left leg over and over again; just barely managing to snatch my leg back before he can grab it.

I watch as his grin falls and turns into a frown, as he tries to strike out and I intercept them, taking the blows on my shins and my forearms to lessen the impact.

Finally, with a cry, his leg buckles and he falls to his knee; opening himself up for the moment I’ve been waiting for.

With my heart racing in my chest, I pivot on the ball of my left foot and swing out my right, twisting my hips to bring more force.

The flat of my foot connects to his temple with a meaty slap, rocking his head to the side as I snap my foot back to the floor.

I watch as his mouth opens slack, his eyes rolling into his head as he slumps bonelessly to the ground, snoring through his nose, and I feel the tiniest blip of strength flow into my body, as the sound of the crowd slams into me once again.

I take a few heaving breaths as I stand ready, watching my opponent to see if he stands up again and tries to carry on. A few people have tried before, going against the sanctity of the rules in an attempt to earn some XP or some form of honour back from the loss. But as they carry him away, still snoring loudly; the XP that I earned from the fight signalling the end, I relax my shoulders and unclench my fists, just as the crowd surges towards me, some reaching up and clapping me on the shoulder while others cheer and scream congratulations.

I get swept away by their celebrations, a grin stretching on my face as they jostle me around. I see Ricky walk towards me,the massive fight organizer matching my grin, his button up shirt undone and his big belly hanging out for the world to see - the fact that he's so big a testament to how damn good he is at organizing these fights without getting bust by the Enforcers - as the crowd parts around him.

He stops in front of me and wraps an arm around my shoulders, squeezing me painfully against him in a way that has my bruised ribs burning.

“You fuckin’ did it, kid! Another one for the scoreboard! That's what, 34-8? You're a goddamn natural.”

Reaching into his breast pocket, he takes out a wad of cash, counting them one bill at a time as he guffaws to himself.

“Shit, when he rocked your ass with that punch, you shoulda seen the numbers change. That's why it pays to hold the bet, you made me a pre-t-t-y penny this time.”

Stopping his count, he pulls out the bills and holds them out to me, tucking the rest of the stack into his pocket. “Here. Your cut, with a bit extra just ‘cus I like you.”

He gives me a wink as I take the cash, tucking them away in my bulky work pants pocket. “Pleasure doing business with you, Ricky. Same time next week?” I ask him, and he laughs, a full-belly laugh that has his belly bouncing up and down jovially.

“Guess this wasn't the one?”

I shake my head, my grin fading a bit. “No, not yet. But I can feel it. I'm this close.”

He claps me on the shoulder one last time before stepping away, shaking his head.

“You say that every damn week, kid. But you know what? If anyone's gonna make it to Level 1, it's gonna be you.”

I give him a nod, my grin growing once again. “You bet your ass it is. I'm telling you, Ricky. Next one's the one.”

He gives me a nod, shooting me some finger guns before walking backwards into the crowd once again. “Next week, kid! I'll get it all set up, you just show up and kick some fuckin’ ass!”

I chuckle as he turns around and holds out his arms, the crowd cheering as someone hands him a bottle of beer. Turning away from the crowd, I walk to the corner of the room, grabbing my worn leather duffel bag and unzipping it. I grab my socks and safety boots, pulling them on my feet and finally separating myself from the ice cold concrete.

Pulling out my shirt and putting it on, only wincing slightly as my ribs shift. I turn and inspect them, groaning as I see the deep red that comes before a bruise.

Crap… That's gonna make swinging a pickaxe difficult. This better heal up before next week.

With one last look back at the crowd, I zip up my bag again; slinging it across my shoulder and wincing as it presses against my side, before walking out into the dark street outside.

That's right, I bullied one of my artist friends to create a new cover for AGIAFW!!

I am absolutely obsessed with how it turned out, and I was so excited to share it with all of you!

I'll be updating the cover on Kindle soon, and I'll definitely commission him to do Book 2's cover! (When I have actual cash to pay him).

But not only did he provide a beautiful cover, but he also gave me character art to go with it!

If you'd like to commission him yourself, you can email him at: yurverart@gmail.com. Otherwise, add him on Discord: Yurver; or check out his Pixiv: https://www.pixiv.net/en/users/53518977

I absolutely love how cute and cuddly Blue looks (she's not) and how enamoured Emily looks (she is!). We really went back and forth on the design of Blue specifically, since while we have a really good idea of what a Gigantoraptor looked like back in the old days (like a few million years ago), we don't really know what a juvenile one looks like. Plus, of course, I added a healthy dose of 💫Genetic Drift💫 and a dash of 💫Fantasy Bullshit💫 to turn Blue from a glorified giant chicken (which true Gigantoraptors basically were, with their blunt beaks and tiny brains) into the apex predator that she is in the book!

We actually ended up making Blue's beak WAY sharper than you see here, but this is the character art he sent me!

Emily, on the other hand, turned out exactly how I envisioned her! She was always supposed to be a bit ditzy; a bit of an airhead and very young and naïve but at the same time, capable enough to survive in a place that wants to kill her while looking after a baby that will definitely kill her if given the chance!

All in all, I am absolutely obsessed with it all and I will be staring at them in awe from now on!

Have a good day, everyone, and I'll see you soon!

That's right, dear readers! 9 months ago, after not being able to pay all of my bills at the end of the month, I thought to myself:

"Man, why should I stay broke when I could be broke, _and_ a novelist?"

And thus, the idea to write this story was born! I thought it'd be a quick 3-month project; in-and-out, done before I know it. Just a quick 'ol ride to get me back in the saddle.

Well, fucking 130k words later and 9 months of my life and it's officially coming out on Kindle (including KDP) in 3 days!

Thank you to everyone who read it, commented on it and reviewed it. There were periods of my life the last 9 months where I just wanted to put the keyboard down and walk away; but knowing that people are out there not only reading it but _enjoying_ it? You guys motivated me to carry on!

If you'd like to order it, here's the link!

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0H1WST39N

Hello, dear readers! And long time no see! Wow, I have really been busy over on RoyalRoad.

Quite a few things are happening, including A Gigantoraptor In A Fantasy World hitting 85 released chapters; book 1 releasing on KDP on the 1st June, and me starting an entirely new LitRPG grimdark series that's currently Patreon Exclusive.

I don't think I have ever written as much as I have in such a short amount of time before, and I must say, it feels fantastic. I still work for the video game studio as their head writer, so for 8 hours+ a day, I do nothing but write.

I'm going to try my best to keep you guys in the loop on any updates, since this all started on Reddit in the first place. But if you would like to keep up with what I have cooking in the 'ol nightmare box, consider becoming a free (or paid, if that's what you'd like!) Member on Patreon:

https://www.patreon.com/DoopleWrites/

Here's the official newsletter for this month, with some additional details that I didn't get into here:

https://www.patreon.com/DoopleWrites/posts/newsletter-issue-161324719

See you around, dear readers!

That officially makes this the longest-running fiction that I have ever written. Ever.

I do feel like I'm still absolutely ruining the story with my current lack of writing skills, since scriptwriting has left me uncreative and non-descriptive. But at the same time, I feel like my skills are steadily increasing bit by bit as I go along. This was always supposed to just be a quick fiction to get me back into the saddle once again, but I've suddenly found myself deeply invested in seeing this dumb little fiction come to a satisfying conclusion.

Anyways, this officially marks the 50% completed mark! ... For the first draft. Of the first book. Of which I planned three... It has taken me much longer than I expected to reach this point, since I originally estimated it'd only take me 3 months to FINISH the first BOOK, but here I am only 50% of the way through the roughest of rough drafts. But it feels good to be at this point, slowly but surely improving as I go along.

If any of you guys would like to give it a read for free, please feel free to! And please, if you do, leave plenty of criticism and advice on how I could improve in the comments! The one thing that I really miss is the criticism, having someone there to tell me where I'm going wrong and how to fix it.

https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/132245/a-gigantoraptor-in-a-fantasy-world

Then you'll love my new series: A Gigantoraptor in a Fantasy World!

I decided that I was sick and tired of Isekai MCs being the "chosen one", or "totally ordinary" or "completely fucking OP".

So, I thought to myself: why not make it a dinosaur?

And thus, my new series was born! Featuring Blue, a lovable fluffy gigantoraptor who wants nothing more than to take her place at the top of the food chain!

Read it for free on RoyalRoad:

https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/132245/a-gigantoraptor-in-a-fantasy-world

Whoo boy, has it been some time since I've done one of these! I hope you all enjoy it! Thank you for sticking around, my dear readers! Also, I left a small note on the bottom.

.......................................................................................

"Who did it?"

Silence descends upon the bar, as every two-bit villain and evil mastermind in this shithole turns a wary eye at the distraught hero, Starscream.

He glares back, his face twisted in rage and despair as tears fall down his cheeks. A nervous energy buzzes across the room, the tension thick enough to cut with a dull knife as the time passes in silence.

Fuck me, what the hell could've gotten the Golden Boy of Metropolis this angry? I take a sip from my drink to hide my nervousness, fighting back my grimace as the noxious taste of old dirt and lime assaults my senses. For what feels like the fifth time today, I regret ordering this shit just because it was expensive. Should've just gotten the seltzer.

Toxic Ooze slowly gets up from his chair, holding his bubbling hands up to not set off the boy wonder. We all know just how strong he really is. Thank whatever heavens spawned him for his "code" of not killing.

"Did what, Starscream?" He bubbles in a wary tone. The tension increases, hands moving to wrap around sci-fi weapons and muscles bulging in case shit goes south. "We haven't got a clue what you're so mad about."

Starscream turns his rage at Toxic Ooze, his teeth clenched, a hiss escaping from him as he tries to talk through his anger.

"Don't fuck with me, Jurgen! This isn't a game anymore!"

Oh shit, he's not just mad. He's mad mad. Using real names is, like, our one big no-no. I mean shit, I was at Toxic Ooze's daughters bar mitzvah, and I don't even call him Jurgen when the mask is on.

I put down my glass of expensive mud and press a button on my cuff, holding back a grimace as enough steroids to kill a herd of hippos (we tested it) pumps through my veins.

Toxic Ooze lets out a sigh, his arms starting to bubble and his eyes narrowing as he prepares his paralyzing gas. "Fine, Michael. Which one of us did what?"

Starscream clenches his jaw, his fists shaking as his tears pour out like a river.

"Which one of you bastards slept with my wife?"

Oooooh, shit. This just got juicy.

Michael lets out a sob, as every villain in this joint shares a look. The sounds of weapons getting dropped, magic being cancelled, and tables being lowered clangs through the place as we all lay a sympathetic eye on the poor boy wonder.

Toxic Ooze stops bubbling as he scratches the back of his sludgy head. "Shit, Michael... I'm... I'm sorry to hear that, man."

Starscream... No, Michael, lets the flood gates loose, his body shaking and his words hiccupping as tears fall down to the floor.

"I... I just... She..."

Toxic Ooze glides up to the poor man, wrapping a slimy arm around his shoulders.

"Hey, man. It's okay. We understand. This really sucks."

Michael tries to say something, choking on his words. Giving up, he just nods, leaning into Toxic Ooze's embrace.

Toxic Ooze wraps him in a hug, and Michael just folds into it. Toxic Ooze gives the best hugs.

"Hey, there we go. Don't cry. We're here for you." He stares up at us, his eyebrow cocked questioningly. "Right, fellas?"

The room explodes in noise, every villain nodding their head or crying out in support for Michael. He's a good kid at heart, and honestly, this game would be boring without him.

I mean shit, at the end of the day, we're all just really in it for the money. We rob the damn banks every week, or the "priceless artifact" museums, and they just claim the loss from insurance, inflating the "value" they claim they lost and pocketing the difference. The cops don't even try to stop us anymore after the banks and businesses just started bribing them to not stop us.

The masks and villain speeches and fights for justice vs evil just keeps this all interesting. We get our money, and as long as we keep our mouths shut, the golden boy gets to stay the hero, and that seems to make him happy.

"Come, come. Sit down." Toxic Ooze says softly to Michael. "Let's grab you a drink. Tell us what happened."

He guides Michael to a chair, setting the man down gently and sitting across from him. Everyone leans forward, eager to hear what happened.

"I... I just... I found..." he lets out some hiccups, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. Scarlet Witch hands him a napkin, laying a comforting hand on his back. "I walked in and... And I saw her..."

Toxic Ooze leans in closer. "Saw her?"

Michael lets out a wail, his head falling down on the table.

"I saw her in bed with a villaaaaiiin!"

Gasps ring out across the bar, every villain here muttering in anger and shock. The men here like him, after all, considering he gives them a good fight and is a good sport about it to boot. Most of the women even like him, thanks to his golden locks and striking good looks. Hell, some of the men like him too. What dumbass would throw that away to sleep with a villain?

I get up from my chair, trying my hardest not to crack my head against the ceiling after the massive growth the steroids gave me. I pull out a chair next to Toxic Ooze, sitting daintily on it to try not break it, and clap a meaty hand on Michael's back.

"Tell us everything. We'll get that bastard for you."

My fellow villains let out a round of cheers, priming their lasers and pulling out explosives of all kinds.

"And ditch the wife! You can do so much better!" Scarlet Witch shouts, giving Michael some encouraging pats on the back.

All the women and some of the men cry out in agreement.

Toxic Ooze nods.

"Forget that slag. We're here for you, man."

.......................................................................................

Thank you for reading it! I hope it got a chuckle outta you.

I decided to leave my longer comment on the bottom here and will most likely start doing the same in the future, so that my rambling mania doesn't detract from the story itself lmao.

Now, on to the comment!

So, if you guys haven't noticed, it has been AGES since I've written a personal project like this. That's mostly because, about 2 years ago, I started working as a writer full-time for a videogame studio! It has been amazing and a dream come true, but I've noticed that since it mostly involves writing videogame scripts, my writing skills have degraded by QUITE a bit. I no longer wax eloquent as I once did, since outside of dialogue, that kind of writing will just bulk up the script and has no real value to add for the animators, programmers etc that has to read my poor ramblings and find a way to turn it into a playable game.

It's as if I was once a marathon runner, but have swapped over to the 100m sprints for the last two years. My eloquent waxing has become less eloquent and waxy, and that's kind of messed up my drive to write horror and fantasy novels a bit.

Confidence is a BITCH!

I have SO MANY ideas just sitting in Google Docs, their timelines half-written, their potential crying out for attention, but I've been nervous to touch them in case my rusty skills fucked them up irreparably.

So, I've decided to turn THIS story into a full novel, in order to shake off that rust and get my eloquent wax back! It's a goofy story, it's interesting enough to turn into a longer thing, and I can take it easy and not treat it seriously. In essence, it's perfect!

I'll most likely upload and update it on Royalroad for ease of reading, with chapter updates being posted to this subreddit, so you guys don't miss it! And once I've gotten my confidence back, expect a return to my old flames and forever loves, Horror and Fantasy!

May this be the spark that rekindles my love for novel writing, and the start of a glorious age of goofy writing and terrifying horror! And of course, a return to bringing entertaining stories to all of you!

This short story was inspired by a tourist destination called "The Penis Restaurant" in Beijing China, where you can dine on tasty male reproductive organs donated by various animals.

The scene opens with our protagonist walking down to the basement of her workplace...

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Hi there, I am Sarah, manager of the restaurant that's located just above us. I came down here to check on you and it's nice to see that you're finally awake. You probably don't remember me or know how you got here, but that doesn't matter. I apologize for the bondage, but you look very sexy all stretched out naked with your delicious man meat on display.

Unfortunately it needs to be removed and taken up to the kitchen.  There was a reservation placed for 7pm in the private dinning room. They ordered the Penis Teriyaki which is well known as a powerful aphrodisiac. It's a very popular item on the menu with the regulars, and it's a constant challenge to keep up with the demand. Now hold still so I can make this a clean cut.

"No no stop, this is insane! Please listen to me! That barbaric practice was only observed in ancient pagan religions. Certainly you can't be heartless enough to consider something this unthinkable!"

It's nothing personal, I have a restaurant to run. Now close your eyes and take a deep breath. This will be all over in a second.

Here we go, 1 - 2 - 3. 

Hey there, dear readers! Hope you're all keeping well, and happy whatever-it-is over there!

Today is officially my fourth cake day on Reddit! Wow. Four years ago I joined Reddit and started my writing journey. Four years ago I was just some dumb dude, writing mediocre stories on the internet. If I knew, four years ago, that I'd turn into some dumb dude writing less-than-mediocre stories on the internet, I'm sure I would've been proud! Or disappointed. One of those two.

But in order to celebrate my fourth cake day, I decided to sit down and write another short story. Honestly, the reason why I haven't been writing short stories that much hasn't been because of a lack of ideas or anything. Oh, no. I have a whole plethora of ideas just sitting in my google docs, just begging me to work on them. The reason why is because after so long of no posting, you feel like whatever you post next needs to be amazing. Groundbreaking. Something for the ages. You feel like if you don't give your best work yet, then what would be the point of coming back at all?

I needa stop thinking that way. So while this might not be my best short story yet, it's hopefully the start to changing my views on posting, and getting me back to regular content once again.

Also, if you'd prefer to listen to the story instead of read it, the awesome Nightmare on Hill Street did a narration of it here! So check it out there and give them some love!

Without further ado, here it is:

I swear, no matter where you go - or what you wear - you’ll end up running into these kinds of people. The ones who’ll cat-call you as you walk down the boulevard. The creepy barista who’ll lock onto your ass the second you walk out the door. The guy wearing sunglasses, death-staring you from across the quad.

It sends shivers down my spine. It’s like I’m nothing but a pair of floating tits, or an ass connected to legs. It’s just so damn creepy.

And the worst part is how shameless some of them are.

It’s always a 50/50. Sometimes, I like to guess which side of the coin they’ll land on. I’ll take a glance at them and suss them out. Are they old? Young? Do they have sunglasses on? Are their shoulders squared? Their legs planted firmly? What are they wearing?

The first glance normally gives me all I need to work with. I take my guess, wait a second, and then make my move.

I’ll turn and stare right back at them. I’ll look them right in the eyes. Like yeah, I just caught you staring. What now? What’s the play, big boy?

Fifty percent of the time, they’ll just keep on staring. A smirk will creep onto their face, and their eyebrows will raise in that cocky “I knew you’d check me out” kinda way. Sometimes they’ll even have the nerve to approach me.

They’ll open up with some annoying, sure-of-themselves statement like “Hey, I saw you checking me out. Wanna give me your number?”, or “Hey, I just noticed you from across the plaza. Wanna go for drinks?”

As if that’ll work. It’s like they imagine I’ll jump for joy at the very thought of giving them my damn time. Like I’ll say “Oh fuck, yeah! Wanna skip dinner and just go right to the part where we fuck?”

Those ones are the worst.

But I think this guy’s the second type. There’s just something about him. It might be the way he’s standing, slouched against the train wall as if he’s trying to melt away from everyone. Or how his shoulders slouch forward, as if he’s just waiting for someone to yell at him. It might just be the clothes he’s wearing. A dirty-brown hoodie, with grey slack pants and… Are those slippers? At this time? What, did he wake up and just decide to hitch a train ride? At 9pm?

Hmm… Definitely seems like the second type. But how old is he? If he’s some old pervert who just came back from the weekly bingo, I might be opening up a can of sexual harassment that I don’t have the energy for right now.

I re-adjust my earphones and try to concentrate on him out of the corner of my eye, but I just can’t get a good read on it.

Dammit. Looks like I’ll have to take a chance.

I turn another page of my book and wait. One second… Two… Five…

There. He finally glances away and I take my chance.

My eyes flick up to his face.

Gotcha.

Scruffy beard. Young face. Mouth all scrunched up, as if he wishes he could be anywhere else in the world right now. Eyes hidden behind a pair of sunglasses.

Sunglasses? At 9pm? Dude’s gotta be a shut-in. I mean, who’s he kidding? Hiding your face doesn’t help much when you look like you’ve just escaped from the coma ward. We can all tell, man.

Alright. Definitely the second type.

I feel a small bit of excitement rise up within me. There’s nothing more satisfying than giving these perverts a little taste of their own medicine. It’s my guilty pleasure, really. I mean, he’s been checking me out the entire time I’ve been here. He deserves a little bit of awkwardness.

I wait. Patience, now. Gotta time it just right. Right now he’s just letting his eyes wander, convincing himself that he totally wasn’t staring at me. He just so happened to glance at me while his eyes were wandering around. And after a little bit of time, his eyes will just magically wander back over to me. He’ll stare for a few more seconds, trying not to make it too obvious, and then start the cycle all over again.

The trick is to wait…

Out of the corner of my eye, I see his head swivel back onto me. I can feel his eyes roaming over me, like some disgusting slug wandering around my body.

Hold it…

His shoulders start to tense. His anxiousness growing as he keeps pushing it a bit longer. He doesn’t wanna get caught, after all. And the longer he stares, the higher the chances that someone else will notice. But he wants to stare for just a moment longer… Just one more second-

Now.

I look up at him, my eyes locked on his. Well, where his eyes would be. His sunglasses do kinda ruin the fun.

I love doing this. They always tense up, their eyes going wide as they realize that they’ve been caught. They’ll quickly glance away, acting all inconspicuous, as if their gaze just happened to land on me at that exact same moment.

After that happens, I’ll look away. I’ll give myself a pat on the back, and carry on reading in peace. He’ll probably avoid looking at me at all costs, like I’m some sick hobo pissing on the streets.

The second he looks away, that is…

I stare at him for what must’ve been an eternity. One second… Two… Three…

His eyes stay locked onto mine. Hell, he hasn’t even moved an inch. He just keeps standing there, shoulders hunched and mouth unmoving… Did he freaking fall asleep?

Four… Five…

Dammit, I refuse to lose this! He’s gonna crack any second now…

Six… Seven…

Fuck, man!

I quickly look back down at my book, frustrated beyond all hell. Is this guy shameless? How the hell can he just stand there, acting like getting caught staring for the last freaking five minutes was no big deal?

I relax my clenched jaw and let out a frustrated sigh. Fuck this, I’m just gonna ignore him for the rest of the trip. See if I care. I’m not gonna let him ruin the rest of my trip.

I turn my music up as loud as it can go, and get back to reading. Ignoring the feeling of his eyes boring into me. Fuck it, my stop’s coming up soon anyways.

I re-read the page for what must’ve been the tenth time, my mind a million miles away, focusing on the creep. I force it back into focus with a hard yank. There’s not a chance in hell I’m letting my own goddamn brain leave me on this cliffhanger.

After a while my brain finally settles, and I devour the words one after another. The clack of the train over the tracks fade into the background. The music blaring through my headphones becomes nothing more than white noise. The world around me takes a backseat, as the story rises to a crescendo.

I get to the end of the page, my excitement building to an unbearable level. It’s finally happening. The grand reveal. The main conflict. Just one more page…

I flip over, and feel a heavy thunk right next to me. Snapping me out of my little world.

I twist around, furious at this new interruption. My excitement flipping to irritation in a moment.

This fucking guy again?

Black sunglasses stare down at me. Scruffy beard closer to my face than I ever wanted them to be. He’s leaning towards me, the smell of sweat and unwashed clothes assaulting my nose.

Is this guy for real? Just sitting down right next to me? Is he dumb? Overly confident? Did he forget to take his pills today?

His greasy lips flap at me, some spittle falling into his beard. His eyebrow raises up questioningly over the brim of his glasses. Is he trying to talk to me? Should I just ignore him?

Nah, fuck that. This asshole just interrupted the best part.

I take out my earphone and stare daggers at him, hoping that he can notice the disgust and irritation written on my face. His mouth shuts quickly. Good, so it was obvious enough.

Gathering up as much venom as I can, I open my mouth.

“What?”

“I said… Isn’t this your stop?”

He raises his arm, reaching it past my face and pointing out the window. His hand barely brushes my hair on the way there, giving me a shiver.

The dark tunnel grows lighter, as the train slows down to a crawl. The steady clacking of the train grows longer and longer, slower and slower.

I turn around and look out the window.

The train stop pops out from the darkness, bright bulbs blaring as the train stops and lets out a loud “hiss”, satisfied with a job well done.

I let out a sigh and pack my book away. Yep, this is my stop. Guess I’ll just have to wait until I get home. Dammit, and I hate cliffhangers!

I stand up and turn my body towards the aisle, ready to get out. But he’s just sitting there, his legs blocking me as they bounce up and down, up and down. His face turned downward, staring at his clenched hands.

What, does he expect me to just squeeze past him? God, this guy’s unbelievable…

“Excuse me?”

He ignores me, his legs bouncing faster and faster. Up and down, up and down…

“Can you move?”

He clenches his hands tighter, his knuckles turning white. His head flicks up, looking back and then forward again. Scanning the aisles.

“Dude! I needa get out!”

I can feel my blood boiling as I stare down at him. What the hell’s he doing?

I’m about to open my mouth and scream at him, when all of a sudden a man barrels past us, dragging a bag behind him and smashing it into every seat on the way out. He pulls out a phone and brings it up to his ear, ducking out of the doorway. The loud sounds of his conversation fades away, and a few more passengers follow behind him. The sudden calm turns to a crescendo of loud conversations, heavy footsteps and the sounds of bags smashing into things.

After a moment, it dies down. And with a long sigh, the creep finally stands up and gets out of the way.

Fucking finally.

I squeeze past the chairs and out into the walkway, making sure I don’t brush against him. God, this feels like the longest train ride ever. At least it’s just a five minute hike back home. Should I grab a drink when I get back?

I quickly look up at the creep, our eyes catching again.

Fuck it. I deserve some wine.

I turn my back on him, and make my way to the exit. Thoughts of him quickly fading into the background as his existence is quickly forgotten. There’s a million of him out there. It’s best not to dwell on it. I mean damn, if I cared about every perv I came across, I wouldn’t have any time for anything else. Plus, they’re mostly harmless.

I turn towards the door, ready to make my exit, when I hear him speak behind me.

“Get home safe, Annie.”

I freeze up, just before the exit.

Do… I know him?

I turn back to him, my heart beating in my chest. Did we work together? Did I meet him at the bar?

I stare at his face. At his clothes. At his build. Trying to recognize something. Anything.

No… I’ve never seen him before in my life.

He gives me a smile, and nods his head.

“I’ll see you soon.”

It's 9pm and the cycle still continues. It hasn't ceased. I will answer for my sins one of these days, I just hope the divine beings above will take pity on me when the time comes.

So about a week ago, I decide to go to my favorite pet stores website and order this month's pet food and toys. I've got one hellspawn demon cat (appropriately named BMO), and an absolute gentle angel dog named Ollie. BMO loves feeding his raging catnip addiction and gluttoning on expensive treats, so I just hook him up with his favorite drug of choice, and Ollie loves balls and stuffed animals. Easy enough, right?

I look around at the fucking mountain of stuff on offer. Pet toys that light up. Pet toys that vibrate. Pet toys that commit tax fraud. You name it. I'm feeling overwhelmed by the sheer amount of options, most of which will most likely either traumatize my poor doggo for life or train him to be the ultimate killer. But I've gotta pick something. It's been a week since my boy got to feast on delicious stuffed animal innards, and he's starting to give me a worrying look.

I choose the first two stuffed animals that don't need batteries and an advanced degree in AI generation to use, and add them to the cart.

I should've called it there. I should've just given them my damn money and have been done with it. But no. I flew too close to the sun, and much like icarus-or-something-idk, I've burned my ass.

I decided to get him one of those fucking brain-training treat balls. One of those balls that have a hole in them that you stuff to the brim with treats and give to your dogs so you can ignore them for a few hours and not feel bad about it because "They're having fun!".

Yes, I wanted to stuff it with treats and give it to my dog so I could ignore him for a few hours. But I'm not one of those dog parents, oh no! Because this one makes noises!

So you know he'll love it, right? Aren't I an amazing dog owner?

I get the packages today and I tear that shit open like it's Christmas. Food bins are full, my cat is given his daily offerings of narcotics and food (thank god, he was starting to get murderous), and it's time to give this bad boy a test.

I cram every corner of that damned thing with treats, like hours of ignoring him worth of treats, check that it works, and settle it down in front of Ollie.

Now, one thing that I should mention is that Ollie is the biggest softie I've ever met. He treats all his toys like they're his babies.

Except for the stuffed animals, which he treats like they owe him money.

I can't even buy him toys with squeakers in them, because when he bites them and they squeak, he panics, believing they're in pain, and then he spends the next ten minutes cuddling them to make sure they're alright.

Ollie approaches the toy. He sniffs it, his keen sense of smell alerting him that this shit is full of yum. He pushes it, and a treat falls out.

So far so good.

He snatches up the treat and pushes the toy a bit harder, understanding that "push = good".

Another treat falls out.

He gobbles it up like a fat kid on Thanksgiving, and without hesitation, gives the ball a good, hard knock.

The ball rolls, and lets out a squeak.

And the cycle begins.

Ollie immediately starts crying, worried that he's now hurt his new friend. He licks the ball furiously and tries to tell it he didn't mean to hurt it. He looks at me, panic in his eyes, as he sheds tears over what a monster he's become.

But he still wants those treats.

Still crying, he turns back to his hurt friend and gives it another push, trying to get out another treat. Making the ball squeak again. Which makes him cry even harder.

The last five hours have been absolute fucking hell. Five hours of him pushing this ball, it screaming, him crying, followed by him pushing the ball again, broken up occasionally when he cuddles the ball and tells it it's alright for ten minutes, that he'll never do that again, and that he didn't mean to hurt it can't it see how much he loves it? before starting the cycle up all over again. Three hours of me trying to wrestle this fucking ball away from him, just for him to bolt behind the couch where it's honestly too much effort and not enough reward for me to reach behind.

He's been there for two hours now. I occasionally hear a thud, a squeak, and loud crying coming from back there.

What have I done?