Chapitre 65: CH_3.6 (065)
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The link is also in the synopsis.
———
.
Takuma looked around before walking into a random street in the Leaf village, which was actually a pre-decided meeting spot decided upon by him and Shady Guy the day before.
"Oh good, you're here," said Shady Guy when he saw him. He pushed off the wall he was leaning against and looked Takuma over. "And thank god, you're not wearing your uniform. I was worried because I forgot to mention it; it would've been a problem if you had come all dressed up."
Takuma was wearing a black set of a full-sleeved t-shirt and full-length pants. But he still had his light chainmail vest under his shirt and his weapon pouch and kits strapped around his body. He didn't go absolutely anywhere without his weapons. No one could convince him to leave his weapons behind.
"I don't want to, but I'll ask you one last time," Shady Guy said, "do you want to do this? If I take you, and then you decide to back out there, it's going to make everyone very unhappy. None of us want that."
"Yeah, I'm sure; let's do this," said Takuma. He didn't want to change his mind, but he couldn't help it when his mind played volleyball with the decision, tossing it back and forth.
"I like that spirit. Keep it up and you'll do great in the ring."
Takuma never liked Shady Guy's smile; it made him look overly shady.
Shady Guy then led him through the village. They ran, jumped through the roofs, smuggled their way through alleyways, and even strolled through roads before they reached a dingy bar tucked in a backstreet.
Takuma stared at Shady Guy. He had lived in the village long enough and had seen enough of it to know that Shady Guy hadn't taken the shortest route to the place. And from what he had been taught, he knew that the entire journey was the standard maneuver to get rid of a tail. It screamed that Takuma wasn't trusted.
The bar was crowded and loud with people with four people behind the counter busily making drinks and three more people roaming around the establishment serving drinks. Takuma scanned the place and the people to find many people staring and following him with their eyes.
"Why are they staring at me?" he whispered to Shady Guy.
"Who wouldn't stare at a kid in a bar?" said Shady Guy, nonchalantly. He didn't stop for a moment and led Takuma from the entrance to the backside of the building with a broad flight of stairs stretching underground.
No one stopped them until they reached the base of the stairs, where they found a middle-aged man sitting on a barstool. Takuma's eyes immediately went to the empty left arm sleeve and the ugly prosthetic on the left leg. The man got up, and Takuma saw the burn marks near the neck. He could safely assume that everything was connected.
The man patted Shady Guy on the shoulder and then limped to Takuma, who held back a flinch when he felt the heavy hand land on his shoulder. He stared into the man's eyes as he felt a sliver of chakra enter his body.
"To see if you have a Henge no Jutsu (Transformation Jutsu) over you," said Shady Guy when Takuma looked at him.
The man grunted before returning to his barstool and banging on the heavy metal door. A slit opened in the door, and two eyes peeked at them for a moment before it opened with a creak.
They walked into a circular room with a large booth built into the wall with three people behind a glass wall. Takuma instantly recognized it like one of the betting counters he had seen on a horse track. On either side of the counters were tunnels, and when he strained his ears, he could cheers whispering through to him.
"Not there. You'll get to see plenty of those later," said the Shady Guy as he pulled him towards a smaller tunnel that was wide enough for two people while the other could fit four comfortably.
The smaller tunnel led them to a narrow corridor with rooms on either side. Shady Guy knocked on the farthest door and walked in when he heard a voice. The room was a messy office with a bunch of random stuff decorating the space. It was almost too gaudy and show-offy with a thick red rug beneath their feet, a heavy desk that was obviously made from good wood, and beautiful paintings. It could've been done tastefully, but it was not. As shown by the fact that a third of the room was taken by an indoor bar with shelves worth of bottles and sitting on them with a yellow backlight illuminating them.
"Enomoto! How nice of you to finally show up," said the large fat man sitting behind the desk. "I was starting to think I'd never see your ugly mug again!"
Takuma had seen Akimichi adults in the village. All of them were fat, but they were also tall and had a wide-frame, and a single glance was enough to tell them that the extra fat on them wasn't a hindrance. But the man in front of him was just fat with the worst protruding belly, double-chin, drooping face, and marshmallow arms he had seen since coming to the world.
'Enomoto,' Takuma glanced at Shady Guy.
"What can I say, boss. I'm a busy man," Shady— Enomoto walked directly to the bar. "The village is always in need of one of its finest chunin iryo-nin."
The fat boss man clicked his tongue. "You're lucky that your apprentices put in the honest work, or else I would've snapped that twig that you call your body," he said with a snarl.
The fat boss then turned his face to Takuma, and the snarl turned into a greasy smile. "Ah, so you're the one Enomoto has been talking about. Come child, don't be shy; take a seat," said the man in his hoarse gravel-like voice. "What is your name, child?"
"…Takuma."
"Takuma… Takuma… hmm, we might have to work on that," said the boss man, sounding displeased as he raised the spirit bottle that looked small in his hand.
Takuma's eyes twitched. It wasn't his fault that his name was that— and you know what, he liked his name; if someone didn't like his name, they could go fuck themselves.
"Oh, look at my manners. Would you like something to drink, Takuma? You can take anything from the bar. Enomoto will make you something if you want, but I won't trust the bastard. Who knows when he might slip me some poison," said the fat boss.
Enomoto didn't sound offended and even chuckled as he poured himself a drink. "Boss, you should introduce yourself to the kid before you offer him something to drink."
"Oh my, I might have had a little too much to drink today," said the fat boss before he took another big gulp straight from the bottle. "I go by the name Tsubura, and I run this lovely establishment— you should call me boss…. Now, I'm led to believe that you will join us as a fighter."
Takuma nodded.
"Good, very good, we here at the Ring always appreciate young blood joining us," said Tsubura. "And I'm sure Enomoto stuffed all sorts of promises of rewards for fighting with us."
"Mission points and ryo," Takuma replied. If it was anything, he would get up and leave.
"Yes, mission points and ryo" Tsubura's smile pushed the fat on his face. "Every time you win, you win mission points and ryo. Of course, if you lose, you get nothing at all. Having a long winning streak will add a bonus to your winnings, but the moment you lose, those bonuses vanish— woosh!"
"… So, I get nothing at all if I lose," asked Takuma.
"No consolation prizes."
"…Understood."
He would've preferred if he got something for fighting, but it seemed he would need to win if he wanted monetary benefits out of this commitment.
"Now, let's discuss some terms. These are the terms we give every beginner and are non-negotiable," Tsubura leaned forward, and his weight fell on his table, creaking the wood. "You fight thrice a week, so you will have to work out your mission schedule around our schedule— we will tell you in advance, so be prepared. If we schedule a fight, you can't skip it for any reason— of course, there are some exceptions, but they're few.
"Your minimum tenure is six months— which is seventy-two fights. You can't back out before those six months. If we need someone outside of their schedule, and you're available, you can fight, and we will adjust that into your fight count.
"Finally, we will hold your winnings earned in the first thirty-six fights."
Takuma was following the terms and conditions and thought while they would require a bit of effort from him, he could manage. He was even fine with the seventy-two fights and six-month commitment. But the last one pushed the brakes on his mind.
"Wait, what do you mean?" he asked.
"All of your winning in your first thirty-six fights will remain with us until you complete all of those thirty-six fights. We call it the big payday. Many rookies throw a big party on that day— it makes everyone happy."
"But why?!"
"Hmm? It's insurance that you don't leave us all of a sudden. Consider it a test of loyalty. Stick out half your contract period, and we will start paying after every fight," Tsubura smiled brightly.
Takuma clenched his fist in his lap. What that meant was that he was going to fight in the Ring for three months without seeing any money until the very end. It was indeed a test of loyalty. He didn't trust them at all.
"Do we have problems?" asked Tsubura.
Takuma glanced at Enomoto, but he just shrugged. Fucking Shady Guy!
"…No, let's go with that," sighed Takuma. "What is keeping me from ditching after three months?"
"When you have accumulation of winnings in your accounts, you won't think of leaving," Tsubura grinned before adding a few more points to the conditions he had set.
"Now, I don't know if Enomoto has told you about the categories we run here," asked Tsubura.
"Categories? No."
Weight categories didn't make sense in the world with charka.
"It's simple; we run categories like taijutsu-only, plus weapons, plus ninjutsu, tag team duo, 2v1, 3v1, 4v1…. you get the point," said Tsubura. "As you're just joining, you'll start with taijutsu-only, and you can stay in that category, but after thirty-six fights, we will assess a move if you desire.
"You can even fight in multiple categories if you sign a second contract with us."
Takuma thought about the categories, and he could see him fighting in a couple different ones given a choice. He wanted to fight in different categories. It would give him more exposure to different people. Starting out in the taijutsu-only category seemed perfect for him as he could experiment with the Hidden Leaf Kata.
"Any questions?"
Takuma nodded, "Yeah, how many people fight in the Ring?"
"More people than you might think," Tsubura leaned back and took a large swig. "Rookie genin come to the village every year," he smiled, "I'm sure you will meet familiar faces in the ring— but experienced genin also come to the village every year. People come and go, but the special ones stay in the village, and I must say our payouts are attractive for them to stay with us.
"I hope you too stay with us for a long, long time."
Takuma didn't know if he agreed with that sentiment.
"Now, let's see how you fight," Tsubura stood up from his chair.
Takuma blinked in surprise as he looked at the giant blob of a man.
"Now?"
.
———
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The link is in the synopsis!
Chapitre 66: CH_3.7 (066)
Want to read ahead of schedule? Head over to Patreón @
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The link is also in the synopsis.
———
.
Things had moved faster than Takuma had ever expected. One moment he was listening to unreasonable terms and conditions from fat boss man Tsubura, and the next moment he was looking at a ginormous caged arena inside a dark back tunnel. It turned out there was an open spot they needed to fill.
"I hope you're ready."
Takuma looked back at Enomoto, aka Shady Guy, and made a face of unwillingness and displeasure.
Enomoto laughed, "Don't be like that. Your opponent is fairly new as well and has only fought a few fights in the Ring. Consider it a test drive, so you can be prepared the next time you fight."
He could've observed a fight or two, and that would've been enough. He didn't have to prepare in such a way. Takuma looked at the ongoing fight; the two men were fighting fiercely, with the substantial crowd cheering wildly with each sounding hit and show of blood. But what caught his eyes the most were the masks that covered the fighter's faces.
"Those masks," he turned to Enomoto.
"Here you go," Enomoto raised a cream mask with viridian highlights that covered the top-right quadrant like a leaf. "You don't want to bump into these people during the day. Believe me, there are some gambling junkies who will pester you to no end to get even the smallest of information if it could help them place a better bet. It's better if you don't have to interact with the spectators outside of here."
Takuma stared at the hard mark on his hand and frowned when he felt something like a cloth behind it. He pulled to find a black ski mask.
"Masks break often," Enomoto explained when Takuma gave him a look.
Takuma sighed as he pulled the ski mask over his face before putting on the mask. Thankfully, it fit well and didn't feel like an annoyance he had to move around in.
"Looking good," smiled Enomoto. "Now, give me your weapons packs, all of them."
Takuma wanted to protest but decided that it would be meaningless and unstrapped every weapon on him. "There better not be a single thing missing from here," he said as he handed Enomoto his weaponry.
"Don't worry, I don't have the habit of stealing from poor genin," smirked Chunin Enomoto.
Takuma clicked his tongue in response to the jab. Iryo-nin were especially loaded.
"One last thing."
"What now?!"
"Take off your shirt. Fighting bare-chested is a rule for men in the Ring."
Takuma sighed in frustration as he pulled off your shirt and shoved it into Enomoto before facing the arena. The fight was over, and the announcer was raising one of the men's hands as the winner.
He closed his eyes and concentrated on a repetitive breathing pattern as he waited for himself to be called up for the fight.
The last time he fought seriously was during the final tournament; everything after that had been shadow training and light sparring with friends. He knew this would be nothing like that, and his opponent would be coming to take his head, and that if he wasn't the same, it would hurt a lot.
He didn't like getting hurt, so he needed to hurt back to make sure that didn't happen.
From the arena, the announcer's voice boomed, "Introducing the newest entry to the Ring! Once again, a Nameless enters the grounds to prove himself. Would he conquer to get crushed in the trenches?! Only time will tell! Today we see him fight and see if his fists have the right to climb to the top!"
"Go," Enomoto pushed Takuma.
Takuma took in a deep breath before jogging out of the tunnel. There were metal chain mesh walls on both sides with people on both sides banging on them as Takuma ran past them. He entered the ring, where his opponent waited for him. When he entered, a sliding door dropped from above with a heavy thud and sealed the entrance.
As he stood in the arena, Takuma felt that maybe it was good that he got to fight before he started fighting regularly. Watching a fight from outside wouldn't have told him how restrictive space felt with the solid metal wire mesh surrounding the arena. The arena was significantly larger than an MMA octagon arena, but he could tell that managing space here would be drastically different than anywhere he had fought.
He needed to be cautious about his positioning at all times.
Standing in front of Takuma was his opponent, adorning a similar cream mask with maroon highlights. One glance told that the man was much older than Takuma. He was taller and had an adult's body frame and muscles.
Even if Enomoto told him the man was fairly new, an older shinobi would have more experience in general.
The announcer stepped out of the ring, and the fight started when the metal door fell behind him.
Takuma wasn't planning to move immediately, but he noticed the man staring at his torso. It took but a moment for him to realize that he was looking at the scars that marred his body. When he realized that, Takuma charged ahead, and the man snapped his gaze back— but it was enough for Takuma.
He was already on him and swung his fist. The man used his arm to block the strike, but the force against the unprepared stance was enough to send the man stumbling back. Takuma struck again and the man caught a foot in the chest. The man hit the ground and rolled on the ground a couple times before he was up and charging towards Takuma.
Takuma let the man strike and waded through a running hook before sending an elbow in the face. The mask didn't break, but the man stumbled out of balance.
If Takuma had learned anything from Masaaki, it was that if the opponent was going down, you didn't wait for them to go down, you dragged them to ensure they didn't get up. Takuma jumped the man, shoved him to the ground, and placed himself above— but before he could rain down punches, the man threw him off to the side.
He grunted in frustration as he got up and took out the man's legs with a sliding tackle. He then grabbed the man's leg to put it in a lock so he could pop a joint out but got kicked with the other leg.
He floundered back as the man got up and charged with an angry growl.
The man crashed into Takuma with a shoulder tackle and sent him flying to the edge of the arena. He felt the cold metal mesh dig into his skin as the air rushed out of his lungs.
Takuma landed his feet and caught his breathing back as he saw the man charging towards him like an angry bull.
His hand went to the side of his thigh for a kunai, but his fingers grasped for air. He couldn't force a delay. Takuma lugged himself off the mesh and raised his arms just in time to catch a kick to the head— another spinning kick thrashed into his arms.
The barrage continued from the raging man, and soon Takuma felt his arms numb and grow heavy as he kept them up and held his stance steady to not get blown off into oblivion.
His eyes peeked through and around his guard, fixed on the man— his body making little movements to not let any hit get through.
The sounds of the crowd, which was all he could hear in the arena, dulled down, to be replaced by the sound of his thumping heart and the swishes of the man's swinging arms.
It was all but for a moment, but he felt he could truly see the man. He could feel an anger seep into the movements. He knew these movements. They resembled his own when he would spar against Maruboshi and couldn't make any contact. He would grow angry and start swinging wildly.
There was a second of separation, and Takuma deliberately opened his guard slightly.
Suddenly, he could tell what was going to happen next.
'Knee strike to the stomach with a cross to the face.'
And at the same time, Takuma could see what he would be doing in the next moment.
The man opened with a knee strike to create distance while making Takuma lower his guard. Takuma stepped in at the opportune moment, slapped the knee down, and then like magic, the wild cross came for his head.
Takuma heard a 'swip' as the arm slipped past his ear.
Time slowed down as Takuma saw the opening he knew was coming.
Like a piston in an engine, Takuma's jabbed and his fist crunched into the man's throat.
The man's aggression vanished as his eyes bulged out; his body closed in on itself, with his arms moving back into a guard as he stepped back. Before he could complete his guard, Takuma's cross smashed into the man's chin. As the man staggered like a drunk, a kick thrashed into his calves, putting him to the ground before jumping onto the man's chest feet first.
Takuma felt the bones bend as his weight pressed down.
The moment ended, and the world returned to Takuma as he mindlessly kicked his opponent.
He heard a loud siren, and at the same time, the announcer, who had at some moment entered the arena, pulled him away, and sent him stumbling to the ground.
Takuma sat on the arena's floor in a daze as he stared as the announcer and another man tended to his opponent.
Over his breathing, all he could hear were the ruckus cheers of the crowd.
———
.
"What do you think?" asked Enomoto from a balcony area that overlooked the arena from above.
Tsubura lit the tobacco in his pipe and puffed the embers as he looked down at the arena at the new kid as the announcer paraded him around to the people.
Enomoto sure knew how to pick them. The kid fit the mold to the fault. An orphan, assigned to the Genin Corp, rookie with barely any experience, a quiet personality with few friends, a regular mission record, trained every single day, and a decent fighter… there was that close connection to another shinobi, but Enomoto had assured him that it wouldn't be a problem.
Many people in the same place as the kid career-wise didn't want to fight in the Ring. They were still naïve and threw themselves into missions, trying their best as the good little shinobi they were. The young'uns continued to slave away at the missions for the rest of their minimum service period, only to find out they couldn't get enough chunin recommendations for the Chunin Exams. The lucky few that did receive recommendations had wasted their time as laborers and failed to improve themselves as shinobi— none of them got promoted on their first chance.
The foolish would keep trying like idiots.
Chunin promotions were for the smart ones who knew what they were doing from early on or those who had connections and people to guide them to be in a capable place.
It was difficult to get those smart ones.
The kid wasn't a smart one. He did train every day (who knew how long that would last), but there was no effort to make meaningful connections, or pursue alternate routes for promotion or an assignment shift. The kid was bound to get stuck in the Genin Corp for a long time before he got out if he ever did.
The way Tsubura looked at it, he was doing the kid a favor. Win fights, get money and mission points. If the kid knew what was good for him, he would put both in the correct place. It was only time before he would be put on a C-rank mission with an "observer"— if the kid did well, he would get pulled into a chunin's team rotation.
The proven way to either get a chance at promotion or at least shift out of the Genin Corp.
"You did good," he said, "I like him."
The kid was dull in a fight, but that was everyone when they started out. It would improve as he continued to fight. The kid had won his first fight, but it didn't come as a complete surprise— the kid was the winner of the basic training tournament.
"What are we going to name the kid?" asked Enomoto.
Tsubura looked down at the boy before smiling,
"Let's go with… Scars."
.
———
Chat with me and the rest of the community on our DISCORD server.
The link is in the synopsis!
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
200+ Classement
Power Stone 
109 Power
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