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013 - Show of Force

 
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Amyral

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PostPosted: Wed May 26, 2010 2:00 am    Post subject: 013 - Show of Force Reply with quote Add User to Ignore List

Being a member of Akigiyama had many advantages, and the God of Fight tournament was no different. Jet had his own waiting room, in which the other members of his unit were there. He had biographies of all the fighters and even analysis of fighting styles. That was how he knew that Clive's skills weren't magic, it's how he could examine Alex's technique, and it's how he knew that his next opponent, whose name Jet never bothered to learn, wouldn't wait for another showy display like his previous one did. He knew as much about each fighter in the field as was possible, while that information wasn't available to others about him.

Akigiyama wanted their fighters to perform well, even if they weren't identified as such.

But there was one bio that Jet spent far more time examining. Alex Lizar. He wouldn't even fight him soon, not until the round of 8, but he was focused on him. The son of Andrew Lizar, who knew what potential was locked in this kid. He hoped to find out, at least before he was called away by number 1.

"Who let's a kid fight in a tournament like this?" 4 asked, glancing at the profile Jet was looking at.

"He's not a normal kid, he's a Lizar," Jet responded, turning toward the others.

"So? He's still a kid. Some of these people have been fighting for years," 4 responded.

Two glanced over at them, running a finger through her hair. "He's a kid who has Andrew Lizar for a father. It's not like he spent last week selling newspaper subscriptions to pay for his tournament entry. He wouldn't be here if he wasn't trained."

"You can't ignore bloodlines," Jet said, getting to his feet. It was time for his match. The last time, he had given the crowd a show, he wanted to confuse his opponents, keep them second guessing. What type of fighter was he? What were his abilities? This match, there wouldn't be any tricks. He wouldn't tie his hand around his back. He'd just win.

***

Jet stood in the middle of the ring, looking his opponent in the eyes. The crowd was silent, at least to him. In reality, they were screaming their heads off, like they did for every fight. His opponent was mouthing something, probably talking, but Jet had tuned out all noise. He shot a momentary glance at the announcer. The fight began, his opponent lunged at him.

Jet rarely fought at full bore. But for this round, all four seconds of it, he did. It was hard to see his feet. One knee struck his opponent in the chest. A fist smashed into the poor soul's temple at the same time. The fight seemed to take place between two cheers. Jet swept the man's leg and, as a last parting gesture, slammed his knee into the top of his opponent's head. It took a few seconds before anyone realized what had happened. The opponent slammed to the ground, likely with a rather serious concussion, as Jet walked away. For the first time that day, the crowd remained silent.

Let the other fighters stew on that for a moment. He had a third round to win.
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