1.11 – World Martial Arts Tournament
The Mississippi Canyon is not exactly a canyon. Technically it’s a deep and narrow valley, it just isn’t nearly as deep as something like The Grand Canyon, in fact we can just drive through it. Kay really undersold the vastness of this thing. It’s wider than it is deep and we still haven’t come across any hidden pieces of code as we’re driving through but she assures us we can’t miss it.
“Hey, there’s an arena or something up ahead,” Daamin calls calls over the group chat.
“I see it,” Kai responds.
“It’s an amphitheater, you uncultured lunatics, and you may want to stop there,” Kay seems excited.
As we approach the amphitheater massive stone columns come into view. It’s more Roman Coliseum than anything else. The sound of our cars is drowned out by shouting people inside. The only obvious thing to do is enter and see why there are hundreds of people shouting in the middle of nowhere. Inside there’s a square made of stones where two people are fighting. A woman with long black hair and purple tights dodges swings from a large man with blue colored tribal tattoos covering his pasty chest, reminding me of every roided out gym guy I’ve ever seen. The only thing missing is the backwards hat.
“I always wonder what tribe white guys belong to when they have tribal tattoos, or even Mike Tyson,” Kai can’t help but voice his displeasure. “I mean, why not get a tattoo of your own culture? The Cracker Barrel logo, a casserole dish, a propane tank, an AR-15, Calvin pissing on a Ford logo, or even a Confederate Flag.”
“Now who’s doing the ranting,” Daamin whispers in my ear, causing me to stifle a giggle.
“So how do we get the code,” I cut Kai off to get back on topic.
“Easy, you win the tournament, just make it through three rounds. They get harder as you move on. No other players just NPCs” Kay acts as if we’ve done this before.
“A tournament,” Daamin seems both shocked and disgusted.
“Yes, a tournament,” Kay puts her hands on her hips.
“You really are a fraud. You said you worked hard on this game. But the first piece to winning is a tournament.”
“What’s wrong with a tournament?”
“There’s always a tournament,” Daamin throws his hands in the air.
“No there isn’t,” Kay argues.
“Actually, he might be right on this one,” Kai interrupts.
“It’s a unique idea,” Kay refuses to back down.
“You want me to name them? Because I can,” Daamin offers.
“You actually don’t have to do that,” I interrupt.
“Oh no, I have to do this,” Daamin puts a hand up to silence me.
“Kai, stop this. You hate his nerd rants,” I plead as Daamin takes a deep breath.
“No, I want to hear this one,” Kai smiles.
“Yu Yu Hakusho,” Daamin gets started.
“Never heard of it,” Kay stares at him stone faced.
“Dragon Ball, Pokémon, Mortal Kombat, Harry Potter, Sword Art Online, Final Fantasy IX, The Boy Who Fell, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Fairy Tail, Yu-Gi-Oh, Ultimate Muscle, Bobobo-bo Bo-bo, One Piece, Naruto,” Daamin pauses to catch his breath.
“Don’t forget Kirby,” Kai adds fuel to the fire.
“Motherfucking Kirby had a tournament arc and you’re telling me you came up with this idea all by yourself,” Daamin asks as Kay stands shocked.
“How did you know Kirby had a tournament arc,” I whisper to Kai.
“Saw it on Twitter once,” he laughs.
“You’re an asshole,” Kay looks at me.
“I didn’t even do anything,” I argue.
Kai puts a hand on my shoulder, “just let it go.”
“But, it was Daamin.”
“I know,” Kai nods his head. “Just go win the tournament.”
“Alright, I got it.”
I head down to the ring and spot the tunnel that says competitors. We could sit and watch different NPCs fight forever but of course there’s no line for players. I wonder just how many people have competed in this tournament or even know it’s here. I step through and I’m placed in the ring instantly. I’m suddenly shirtless wearing a pair of Indiana Pacers basketball shorts and my same high-top sneakers. I expected to have some super good-looking abs like every video game and anime protagonist. Instead, I look like Daniel Cormier when he went up the heavyweight division. The skill, stamina and strength are there, but so is all the fat. I could have stayed in the real world for this. Just go to the pool shirtless when teenagers are out and give myself a complex, didn’t need to do it in front of my internet friends. They don’t know about your crash diets or emotional binge eating. C’mon, you’ve lost a lot of weight, be proud of yourself. This is the ideal male body; you may not like it, but this is what peak performance looks.
“Wooo, take it off big daddy,” Kai shouts from the crowd.
“What the fuck,” I mumble under my breath.
Leave it to Kai to think trying to make me blush at a time like this would be a good idea. I don’t get to shout back at him before I’m sent flying by a boot to the face. Correction, a barefoot to the face. Standing before me is Ryu from Street Fighter even I recognize him. No, this is off. His gi is a cream color not white. He’s got skull tattoos on his arms, the hand wraps are blue instead of red. He’s also got brown hair instead of black. This isn’t Ryu, this must be legally distinct Uyr. Daamin might be onto something about Kay being a hack and a fraud. No, he’s absolutely right about it. Uyr brings a foot down towards me and I roll out of the way, the stone where I had just been sitting cracks under the pressure of his foot. This is insane. I’m supposed to be shooting people and hacking robots not participating in death matches, because that’s what this is.
“Daamin, what’s Ryu’s weakness,” I call out while trying to dodge punches.
“Spiders,” Daamin shouts back.
“Look a spider,” I point in the opposite direction.
Uyr panics, and gives me a chance to push him out of the ring. A horn plays symbolizing my win of the first round. Really glad I had Daamin on my side for that one. There’s no time to waste as my next opponent enters the ring. I’m left a little confused as a man wearing a yellow suit with way too many buttons enters the ring to challenge me. I don’t know why he let 2001 Steve Harvey dress him but I’m not going to waste time trying to figure. I connect with punches to his chest and head, but he doesn’t give me much pushback and it’s clear he’s taking a beating.
“I object,” my opponent shouts while jamming a sheet of paper in my face.
“Daamin, explain,” I call out to the crowd.
“He’s a Phoenix Wright rip off. An attorney who solves mysteries and shows up in the Marvel vs Capcom games but this guy’s hair and suit are off.”
“How do I beat him?”
“Just beat him up. He’s a lawyer, not a fighter.”
I take Daamin’s word and just start laying in punches on Fire Bird Wrong, it doesn’t take long for the horn to sound signifying another win. I’ve got one more to go. My next opponent doesn’t make themselves known leaving everyone including the NPCs confused. Slowly the temperature begins to rise and a red glow covers the ring as if the sun was crashing down on us from up above. A man made of flame floats in from the sky. As he gets closer, I have to shield my eyes from the glow. I can’t make out a face through the flames only pieces of armor that seem to be made of molten lava. There’s no chance for me to attack. When the flame shoots from the ground flings me into the sky I don’t feel the heat, I don’t feel any panic. Is this what they call an out of body experience? It almost feels like I’m watching someone else being throttled into the sky towards their death. Suddenly I’m free falling backwards towards the ground from I don’t even know how high. The red glow covers me again more flames shoot down on me from above this time. The flames slowly face away revealing only my opponent now, his hands burning the flesh on my chest with such heat that my body doesn’t comprehend it enough to feel the flame. I hear the cracking of concrete as my back hits the ground and everything starts to go black.
