The Bounty Hunter

July 15th, 2089

Kira’s POV

Tonight was the first night of my money-making opportunity.  “So you came, good.  Ready to make some money?”  Mr.  Chino greeted me cheerfully as I entered his casino as previously arranged.  “I sure am!”  I replied excitedly.  Then Mr. Chino’s smile faltered as he noticed that I wasn’t alone.  “Hey, hey who’s the friend and why is she here?  I never said anything about a plus one.”  Vera, my “plus one”, didn’t bother acknowledging him, leaving it to me to explain.

“Well, I thought it would be wise to bring someone along before going with a stranger to who knows where.  And I also thought it wise to leave behind some information pointing to you in case I don’t return.”  I smiled sweetly, expecting Mr. Chino to get offended, but to my surprise he gave a hoarse squeaking laugh.  “It’s reassuring that you’re not a complete fucking idiot.”  He then motioned for the two of us to follow him, which we did, and after getting into his car and driving for around a half hour we arrived at what appeared to be a derelict warehouse.  Mr. Chino walked up to a barred door and loudly banged on it with his foot. 

A small peephole was opened and a surly voice sounded out “What the fuck do you want, Ratface?”  I nearly snorted in amusement while Vera muttered to me “What an accurate nickname.” Mr. Chino, or Ratface, was unfazed by the rudeness of the gatekeeper.  “Open up the fucking door, I got a fighter here for the Pits.”  There was a brief pause, but then the peephole was shut and the sounds of at least 6 different locks being unlocked echoed from behind the door before it finally opened.

A very large Japanese man stood behind said door, being at least 400 pounds of fat and muscle on a 6 foot 4 frame.  I think he is one of those Japanese warriors known as “sumo wrestlers”.  He showed no surprise at seeing two high school Japanese girls standing next to Mr. Chino as his supposed “fighters”.  “Head down the corridor and go to the left, you’ll arrive at the fighter’s locker room.” The sumo man spoke gruffly to us.  We walked by him and started walking down the long, empty corridor as he returned to guard duty.  It was dark and dusty, and I had to resist the urge to sneeze as we proceeded down the hallway.

Once we were out of earshot, I couldn’t help but ask “Hey Ra-, Mr. Chino, can I ask you something?”  “Kid, around this group of bottom-feeders just call me Ratface.  It’s what I go by.  What do you want to know?”  Ratface responded in a somewhat grumpy tone.  “Why did the guard not act surprised when he saw two teenage girls as ‘fighters’?”  Ratface gave an evil smile at the question “Teenagers fight all the time at the Pits.  They come here and then get the living shit beaten out of them for the amusement of the crowd.  The spectators especially love it when it’s a pretty young thing such as yourself, those sick, sadistic bastards.” 

He waited for a moment, as if expecting either Vera or me to interrupt in horror or outrage, but continued when we didn’t (back home you could find establishments where you could personally torture child slaves to death for the right price).  “The crowds love betting on how long those desperate brats can last, no one ever expects them to win, which is how we are going to clean them out.”  Vera interjected at this point “How do you get them to sign on for such a beat-down?”  “It’s rather easy actually.  Their parents owe the wrong people money or they’re out on the streets and would rather sell their bodies for violence than for sex.  I estimate we can get two or three fights with outrageous odds before they wizen up and realize you’re the real fuckin’ deal.”  Ratface started rubbing his hands together eagerly in anticipation “And that’s all we need to make a shit-ton of money.” 

We arrived at the fighter’s locker room, where an elderly woman with graying hair and a lot of wrinkles was manning a desk.  She looked up at us, and spoke “So Ratface, which one is the fighter?”  Ratface pointed at me as he replied “She’s the one, the other is just a friend.”  The elderly lady nodded before turning her attention towards me.  “Ok, your fight is up next.  All you have to do is last 10 minutes in the ring with your opponent and that’s it.  You can run, hide, cry or whatever.  The audience will eat it all up regardless of what you do.  Just stay in the ring, no matter how much it hurts, because I can guarantee my associates and I can do far worse if you mess things up for us.”  She then let loose the faintest, most pathetic sliver of killing intent I had ever felt.

Vera stiffened slightly next to me, a clear sign that she’s trying to restrain from snickering at that pathetic attempt at intimidation.  Terra wasn’t lying when he said most people in this world are wusses.  The old hag mistook our held-in laughter for fear and assumed her message was sent across.  She turned back to Ratface “You and the other girl can go over to the manager’s box to watch the match.”  Vera gave me a light pat on the shoulder while whispering “Be sure to fight in moderation, we do not need too much attention.” before she left with Ratface and I entered the holding box waiting for my fight to begin.

Shockingly enough there was no loud-mouthed announcer drumming up hype like at the Bloodmoon Arena.  Instead, there was a simple call of “Kira versus Bonecrusher will commence now.  No more bets will be accepted.”  I jumped up onto the large circular ring set in the center of the empty warehouse.  The rusted iron and rotted wood added to the decrepit feel of the place. The audience was hidden in shadows around the arena, although as a cat-kin my night vision still allowed me to see them clearly. 

I could see Ratface rubbing his palms together with a creepy grin on his face while Vera was just watching with a bored expression.  I owe her one for coming along tonight.  My attention focused back onto my opponent, a bulky man of nearly 7 feet composed of scars and muscle who had a feral grin that only widened as he saw me.  My response to the scare tactic was ‘meh.  Asurans are way scarier as a species, this “Bonecrusher” can come back and try again after he gets 4 more arms and another 200 pounds of muscle.

A bell rang out and Bonecrusher slowly walked over to me as he taunted “So they got a pretty one this time, that’s good.  The last girl was some fatty whose daddy got in deep with the sharks.  She didn’t even last one minute, how long will you last I wonder?”  I tried to restrain myself, but nope.  I had to do a facepalm at this guy.  Which I did, while simultaneously sighing. 

The scariest people are the ones who don’t need to say a single word in order for you to get the picture of how badly they are going to fuck you up.  This wimp doesn’t even have any blood lust!  The audience started murmuring at my actions, I noticed that Vera had copied my facepalm.  Goodness me, I don’t even want to be near this guy for any longer.  I can feel myself becoming more of a weakling just from the proximity.

I waited as the loser came over and then went with a move that Terra always advises to use against male opponents.  The cracking sound of Bonecrusher’s pelvis blended with his high-pitched squeal from suddenly being halfway to becoming a girl, causing everyone in the audience to jump.  I withdrew my foot and watched as Bonecrusher fell over, his collision with the floor being the only sound in the arena as the audience was completely gob-smacked.  A brief pause later and the announcer’s voice rang out “Winner:  Kira.” 

The audience continued to be quiet, until there was a loud yell of excitement “SHOW ME THE MONNEEEYY!!!!”  I turned and saw Ratface dancing around happily as Vera conducted another facepalm.  I couldn’t help but give a grin that Hikari once told me was like the Cheshire Cat.  I have no idea who that person is.  I had fun tonight despite the unsatisfying fight.  I think I might keep at it and make some more money while I do.  With that thought in my mind I ran over to Vera and immediately told her “Let’s spar when we get back, I’m still all fired up!”