Realistic or Modern Great Ganbatte!!!

[PiePillager]

"I believe he makes his home in the sewers!" Kipsang answered, raising an eyebrow at Donavan as he returned. It seemed as if something was bothering him, but there was time to ask just what it was later. "He hides in wait as his owner lures unsuspecting fighters into locations where Bek cannot be seen. and that is when he strikes! Certainly a unique way to face your foes but surely he knows it cannot last forever. Perhaps he intended only to reveal his ploy once the preliminaries were over?" Kipsang shrugged, lifting a canteen from his gi's inner pockets and shaking it slightly, only to sigh in disappointment at its emptiness.

"We do know he had assistance with his schemes from the tournament's organizers, but from what I had last heard, his luck was running out," Kipsang mused, rubbing his chin before chuckling, "Perhaps that will make him more desperate? Eheheheheh!"

***
"How do you feel about that folks?!" the reporter turned to the camera. "Seems these fighters look out for each other! A rare commodity in this tournament! And perhaps a welcome one! There are many honorable warriors in this tournament but there's also no shortage of cutthroats out for themselves! It's good to have folks you can rely on!"

The other reporter, who had been silent up until now, suddenly chimed in with, "And what about their beef with Bek! Can you believe that folks?! I certainly can't! Bek's one of the top contenders! Not many get away unscathed from a confrontation with him!"

"That's about all the time we'll have today folks! Stay tuned, we'll have some kick-ass fights coming up for you soon! And hopefully, we'll get a chance to interview these warriors again sometime!" the first reporter stated, winking at the camera. With the interview now over, the two reporters shook Connor and Rivera's hands. The first one grinned as she began to head out the door. "Thanks for the interview! I'd talk more but, we have more fighters to talk to!"

"I'm gonna stay behind for a bit! Get 'em to sign a few papers!" the cameraman informed the two reporters who happily nodded before exiting the conference room. He walked up to Connor and Rivera with a clipboard. "Now let's see here uh...where the hell'd I put my pen...?" he questioned as he patted his pockets. "Ah..." he grinned. "Here we go."

A gun was pointed at Connor and Rivera, the cameraman smiling smugly as he waved it back and forth between the two of them. "Now, now....ain't no need to get upset or nothin'. This is just insurance, see? To make sure you don't go running back to your friends. I just wanna talk to you two about your good 'ol pal, Bek."

 

[Shotgunpenguin]

As Rivera answered the questions about Bek, Connor couldn’t help but think that the interview was going a lot better than he would have thought. Rivera was handling the Bek situation far better than he would have been able to, and the questions they asked hadn’t been to difficult to answer. He was afraid that they’d start asking them more questions about Bek, or even worse, questions about themselves, but it seemed like the interviewers were satisfied with the answers they got.

As the interview came to a close and the two reporters left the room, Connor turned to Rivera and gave her a wide smile. “Honestly, that wasn’t so bad.” He leaned back in the comfortable office chair and let out a sigh, taking another bite of his pilfered doughnut. “I was expecting a lot worse.”

And then a gun was suddenly pointed directly at his face.

Connor froze, his breath catching in his throat as the man pointed the handgun between him and Rivera, a manic smile on his face as he spoke. His heart was screaming in his ears, body tensing as his eyes darted between the man and the gun in his hand. Connor slowly raised his hands in front of him, his body acting on instinct even as his mind struggled to process what was happening.

“B-bek?” He stuttered out, desperately trying to think of something, anything to say.

“W-w-what are you t-talking about s-sir? I-“ He paused, glancing over at Rivera before continuing. “I’ve never even m-met the guy. I was just talking big for the camera, you know?” The laugh that came out of his mouth was strained and fragile.

Mentions: obscured_light PiePillager​

 

[obscured_light]

If Rivera had a nickel for every time a gun was pointed at her... she would have four nickles but still not enough for some bubblegum. It wasn't enough to get used to the sight of it in her face as her heart began to race and she swallowed loudly. Connor tried to feign ignorance and admittedly, it was true they hadn't exactly dealt with Bek the crocodile. However, considering the strings being pulled for Bek, Rivera doubted they weren't fast to identify who was a threat to that secret.

Rivera met Connor's eyes and hoped she would have a chance to apologize later.

"We know the truth and the stakes," Rivera said boldly, meeting the gunman's eyes even though her hands were shaking as she also held them up. "Both of us. Insurance isn't necessary as we aren't opposed to a chat. Anything else might depend on the circumstances."

 

[BakaTheIdiot]

"Right. We don't know where he is exactly, but if you challenge him in public he will come," The old man was surprisingly quick to the party, and he certainly had a point. If the gang could lure out Bek into somewhere a little more open, they could probably win. "I nagged on and on about him out loud and eventually he took me up on a fight. I ditched as soon as I learned I was out of my depth."

Rivera and Connor were sure taking their sweet time. Must've been a big laundry list of questions.

"If you don't mind my asking... how exactly do you plan to take down King Croc? Like, do we need to secure anything, orr...?" Donavan was still adjusting to the whole 'oh I wrestle animals' thing that this Trevor fellow was... wait, not Trevor. Trent. His name was Trent. Trent was an ally. Regardless, Trent seemed awfully blasé about this whole thing, especially considering how dangerous a crocodile was.

How dangerous was a crocodile? He didn't know.

"Either way, I was planning to tape the fight. For insurance. The organizers have been getting smart with us, trying to get us with some cheap threats. I bet threatening to leak cheated footage to the press would be enough to shut them up for a week or two."

DarKnight36 PiePillager

 

[DarKnight36]

"Nice plan! This isn't the most legitimate operation and having a few cards up your sleeve is a good idea," Trent said, nodding. "As for how to beat the croc... well, I've got a few ideas. Somewhere cold might slow the reptile down, it being cold-blooded and all. But it depends on how much like a crocodile the creature behaves. If it actually uses martial arts, which I suspect, it's no wonder it could take so many others down. Moves that work on a human won't even faze it. But..." Trent chuckled and gave a thumbs up. "I'm what you could call a natural. I doubt it will be easy, but I'm sure I can beat him."

BakaTheIdiot PiePillager

 

[PiePillager]

The man with the gun chuckled. "Allow me to tell you the circumstance, then. Bek, no....his owner, Daoud has caused us a great deal of trouble. He went and whined and begged us to help him cover up his scaly green friend from the public and in return, he'd challenge those who were pokin' their nose where it don't belong. Nothing too deadly, just enough to put 'em out of commission for a while and keep their mouths shut. But then he met you and your little friends and got him shook!"

"He's a liability now. Can't hold it together now that his meal ticket may get exposed and our boss was too busy to help him....but that's where you come in. You and your group are his number one priority. So let's say you run into Bek, hmm, I'll give ya 'til tomorrow....One of your friends fights the big lizard and we'll provide a distraction. During the commotion....we need ya to off Daoud!" he stated, running a finger across his neck. "Ya catch my drift? Don't care how you do it, just make sure it's done....and we'll leave ya alone."

***

"Martial arts?" Kipsang questioned, rubbing his chin and speaking with some faint familiarity. "The crocodile? Well...I suppose it isn't impossible. I wonder..." he began to pace the floor, stroking his chin. "Could it be...?" he looked up suddenly, with sudden realization.

 

[BakaTheIdiot]

The old man seemed to be suffering from a stroke of smarts, given that he went weirdly quiet. Donavan looked over at him, expecting for him to say something in addition to his muttering, but either he never said anything or he forgot. Or both. "You got something to add?" He waited a little longer.

Turning his attention back to Trent, he shrugged. "I'm gonna look for a video shop or something. Maybe they'll have a recorder..." He pulled out his slide phone, the remarkably unimpressive camera offering some small glint in the sunlight. "This probably won't cut it." And with that, he started off towards the doorway, careful to watch his back for any other organizers looking to get smart.

DarKnight36 PiePillager

 

[Shotgunpenguin]

Connor’s eyes threatened to pop right out of his skull as Rivera spoke, verbally pushing back against the gunman. He wanted to shout at her, to cut her off and beg for the both of them, but he just couldn’t get the words out of his mouth. His throat felt dry and rough as his whole body shook, teeth gritting together behind an anxious grimace as their captor responded.

“Y-you want us to kill him?!” Connor didn’t know what to think as the man made an overly exaggerated motion across his neck. But they wanted one of them to take him out. They’d not only have to find Daoud, but willingly put themselves where they wouldn’t be recorded by the tournaments camera system for him to bring out Bek. And they still didn’t have any idea how they were going to deal with that monster, short of calling the authorities and hoping that they’d show up. Their only advantage was that they could afford to consider more lethal solutions to their problem, since the people behind Daoud couldn’t try and claim that they broke the rules by killing a competitor. That’d mean explaining why an animal was not only allowed to compete, but why they were covering up it’s existence.

Still, It was one thing to kill an animal that was trying to kill you. He doubted that a crocodile would let him off with some light injuries and leave him on his way, especially if Daoud was as spooked as the man made him seem. It’d be out for blood, and there was a good chance that it wouldn’t stop unless they took it down for good. Connor would feel bad about having to do it, even if he knew that he didn’t really have a choice. He could rationalize that to himself and others. But to kill a person….

He honestly didn’t think that he had it in him to ever take someone else’s life. And it may have been naive, but he hoped that his companions were in the same state of mind. They all seemed like good people as far as he could tell. Sure, one or two of them had their quirks that seemed a bit more destructive than most, but they hadn’t stabbed him in the back when he was vulnerable and that had to count for something.

“W-why don’t you just do it?” Connor flinched, realizing that he shouldn’t be antagonizing the man who had them at gun point, immediately adding “Uh, Sir. I mean, why bother involving us? Couldn’t you just pull him aside and uh…” He trailed off, letting the implication hang in the air.

PiePillager obscured_light​

 

[obscured_light]

Rivera wanted to shake Connor as he asked the gunmen the exact same thing she had wanted to ask. She just hadn't because the man was literally pointing a gun at them and if it seemed so simple to off Daoud, the same could be said about them. Her thoughts were ironic considering her initial response.

It wasn't simple however. Something prevented them from doing it and Rivera was wary. Killing Daoud smelled like a set up to her, a way to be indebted to the same people Daoud was tied to.

"Is it cuz of the crocodile? Cuz it won't be easy for us either unless ya'll have a way of dealing with the beast," Rivera pointed out, eyeing the gun nervously. "Is this also a one time thing?"

 

[BakaTheIdiot]

It didn't take Donavan long to find a little video store, although "little" was certainly being a little generous. There was enough room inside for 2, 3 people maximum. Thankfully the place seemed deserted. He stepped inside, scooted past some of the shelves and wound up in front of a small collection of video cameras.

Normally, he would've complained about the price of this technology before begrudgingly taking it up for the sake of the competition. Two things interfered with this routine: one, he had no idea what the exchange rate was, and didn't particularly care to learn, and two, none of that mattered regardless because the tournament paid for everything. He grabbed the first one that looked like it could record 'an video,' and went over to the counter. A swipe of the green card later, and he was carrying a little plastic bag with a nondescript video camera. Now all that remained was to see if it worked.

Taking a quick peek at the screen, it was definitely a lot smaller than he had imagined, but it could take a video and it had sound. Blurry or not, it would have to do: Rivera and Connor were probably wrapping up by now and they needed to hash details. Then there was that Trent fellow. And the old man...

What was up with him anyway?

Pondering all of this, he made his way back to the hotel, knowing tomorrow was going to be a long day.

PiePillager

 

[PiePillager]

"Look...we got some complications on our end. Our boss don't know who among us he can really trust right now.," the gunman explained. "You being an involved but unaffiliated party works out great for us. Matter of fact, now you officially know too fuckin' much to let you off scott free," he nodded smugly. "But you do this and we'll make sure you're compensated fairly, got it.? And if you don't....BANG!" he snickered. "Now get outta here. Tell your friends what's up...Oh and....maybe there'll be a bonus if you get rid of the old drunk too, huh?"

***

The monitors and radios around the resort area suddenly ceased their broadcasts of whatever programming was airing, highlighting a bulletin from the Ganbatte staff. One of the reporters who had interviewed Rivera and Connor earlier was on the scene and the look of excitement on her face suggested breaking news. "Exciting news, Ganbatte fans! One of the top three contenders in the tournament, the man of mystery himself, Bek is issuing a challenge tomorrow! AHEM!" she cleared her throat as she drew out what appeared to be a handwritten letter and read

"'To my dear pursuers,
I wish not to prolong this game of cat and mouse any longer. Tomorrow at 3 pm we settle this. In the parking lot behind our hotel.' "

"WOW, talk about old school but this is a rare treat, folks!" the reporter continued. "A PUBLIC declaration of war by Bek! Always elusive and mysterious, he rarely issues a challenge so publicly! But who could these pursuers be....well if you saw our last interview, I'm sure you've got some idea! So stay tuned Ganbatte fans, maybe you'll even get footage of this one!"

As the broadcast ended, Kipsang seemed to have broken out of his stupor as he turned to the others and sighed. "Seems like we should get as much rest as possible, then eh? With full bellies at that..." he mentioned, eyeing a nearby liquor cart.

 

[obscured_light]

Rivera was out the moment the gunman indicated they could go. She made sure to wave to Connor to follow but there wasn't any lingering on her end. It was important that the others knew what they had learned and in the same way, they had information she needed. Her pace was practically at a jog and it was clear she wasn't in the mood to chat along the way.

A singular question, well among many, burned on her tongue.

Why was Kipsang involved?

Music cut off abruptly and Rivera was abruptly taken from her thoughts. She slowed down as the voice from the reporter cheerfully proclaimed Bek's challenge. Her heart dropped. Shit. Shit. Shit. She hadn't expected a challenge in the open so soon. The music began to play again and Rivera broke back into a jog, still not speaking to Connor, not even aware if he was following. Thoughts consuming her, she burst into the hotel lobby, out of breath, looking for her companions.

 

[DarKnight36]

Trent saw the announcement and smiled. He was sure the fight would be of interest to the one he was truly here to see. Now, all he had to do was decide how to fight a crocodile.

Trent was stirred from his thoughts as Rivera hurried back into the room.

"What's the matter, Rivera?" he asked, frowning at the stress evident on her face. "I thought the interview went well from what I heard."

 

[BakaTheIdiot]

Donavan was the last person to make it to the hotel. Having wasted quite the sum of time hunting for a camera, he moseyed across the lobby and started back towards the room. Everybody seemed like they were in a big hurry to get around the giant lobby flatscreen. Given the heightened publicity of the event, it was probably just another scoreboard, so Donavan made his way back to Connor's room. Their plan almost sounded stupid, hoping that this Crocodile-Dundee wannabe could take down Bek, but now that things were getting rolling in earnest, maybe it was time to branch out and try some new ideas. Blackmailing the organizers felt wrong, and more than a little stupid, but if they wanted to play dirty Donavan wasn't above getting in the weeds. Right now, his number one priority was Daoud.

Speak of the devil.

Across from him, another flatscreen lit up, ripping him out of his thoughts. Judging by the appearance of that competition caster, she was probably the same one that was interviewing Connor and Rivera. That at least meant their interview was over! Perfect timing too, because it was time to hash details. They had a time, they had a place, and they had the beginnings of a plan. Maybe this would work out after all. Looks like he wasn't the only one in a hurry, since Rivera was making headway straight for Connor's spot. Donnie picked up the pace, hustling to the elevator and emerging on the target floor. After a quick courtesy knock and some standing around, he was finally regrouped with the others. Connor, Rivera, the old man, Trent, the gang truly was all here.

"Right, I got the camera and shit, we're good to-" Something was immediately wrong, judging by the very un-subtle concern etched all over Rivera's face. "Uhh... did I miss something?"

PiePillager obscured_light Shotgunpenguin DarKnight36

 

[Shotgunpenguin]

The gunman didn't need to tell Connor twice. Connor stood from his chair and slowly backed his way out of the room, never once taking his eyes off of the man until he was in the hallway of the hotel. As soon as he was out he joined Rivera in her escape, following right behind her as they fled from the situation.

He didn't say anything as they rushed away from the conference room, his mind racing a million miles an hour and his heart beating like thunder in his ears. He didn't know what he was going to do, or even what they were going to tell everyone else.

"Hey everyone, turns out that the mafia wants us to kill Daoud, and if we don't they're going to come and kill us. Oh, and also they want you dead old man!"

He was so caught up in his own thoughts that he didn't even notice Rivera had stopped until his nose slammed into the back of her head, sending a flash of pain through his head. "Ow!" He brought a hand up to his nose, checking to see if it came away bloody. "What the heck Rivera, why did you-" His voice trailed off as he turned to watch the broadcast, his confusion turning into absolute terror as the reporter relayed Daoud's challenge, looking as happy as a kid in a candy store.

He was moving before he could even fully process what he had just heard, feet pounding on the hotel's polished floor as he followed Rivera. The two of them eventually returned to the hotel lobby, quickly locating their companions. Donavan was gone, but they didn't have time to worry about that. With desperation dripping from his body he ushered the members of their group into the elevator, and then into the safety of his hotel room before slamming the door shut and locking it.

He didn't even have the time to begin to explain before a knock at their door had him jumping out of his skin. He wrestled with himself for a few seconds, debating on whether or not he should open the door or not. Eventually, he tip-toed his way over and peered out the peephole to find Donavan waiting outside with what looked like a cam-recorder in his hands. Quickly letting him in, he closed and locked the door once again before turning to address the group.

"We are so screwed." Connor paced the room, a look of pure terror on his face as he spoke. "T-there was this guy with a gun, he was posing as the cameraman for the interview. After those two women left he pulled a gun on us and told us that if we don't kill Daoud, they're going to kill us. And Daoud just issued a challenge on live television!"

He sat himself down on one of the queen sized beds and wrapped his arms around himself. His entire body was shaking, his eyes like pinpricks as he desperately looked between everyone else. "What the hell are we going to do?! I can't kill someone!"

Mentions: BakaTheIdiot obscured_light PiePillager DarKnight36 ​

 

[obscured_light]

Rivera was unsure of how to say it. She had remained silent, steeped in concern, when Trent and Donavan had both asked what was wrong. Luckily where she was mute, Connor was forthcoming with the information and roughly summarized what the two had faced. The kid looked terrified and Rivera hated to admit it, but she was scared herself. Fights were easy when it was with other people. Organizations, not so much.

Still, she forced herself to stand up and walked over to where Connor sat on the bed. Hesitantly, she reached out and awkwardly patted his shoulder in what was supposed to be an attempt to reassure him. She didn't have to look over to see Trent's knowing gaze as she quickly dropped her hand after a few pats.

"You don't have to," Rivera said gently, knowing the prospect of taking a life could be mortifying. She bit her lip before adding, "...We could take care of it."

She turned to the others, looking unsure of herself, but certain that they likely wanted more of an explanation.

"Basically, it's like Connor said. Either we kill him or they kill us... Something about them not trusting him anymore since he's basically a liability now," Rivera relayed, frowning. "If we manage to do it, besides not killing us, they said they would reward us. They also said..."

She turned to face Kipsang, gauging his reaction, "That they'd reward us for your head too."

 

[BakaTheIdiot]

Ah. So it wasn't actually an interview.

It made sense, looking back at it, that the organizers wanted Daoud gone. He had ran his mouth, and revealed too much of his hand - he was the weak link in this mafia business. It was only reasonable to assume that the organizers had bugged most of the rooms, or most of the entire country given how quickly they clamped down on the group. There really wasn't much of a way out of this aside from doing what they asked.

The poor kid seemed pretty distraught about the whole thing. Maybe Donavan had been desensitized to all of this, but he had to remind himself that not everyone had blood on their hands going into this. He probably just thought it was like the major leagues back in America. Donnie had been that naive once. Still, something had to be done, and he wasn't exactly privy to dying just yet. Besides, Daoud was an asshole. It was kill or be killed.

How very poetic.

The old man was a different story. There was something seriously off about his whole presentation. He was black-out drunk, but also conveniently wise when he needed to be. He wasn't really much of a fighter, but still took down a couple goons with hardly any effort. What exactly was he in this for? Who was he?

"Not we," Donavan interjected, stepping forward. "I'll do it. I have some... er... experience. And it'll maybe save us some face. I started this whole 'rivalry' with Daoud, the public will go nuts if I'm the one to end it. It'll buy us some time and popularity points until we can figure out what the hell is going on."

He walked over to his backpack, unzipping the frontmost pocket and pulling out a little felt case. Setting it on the nearest bed, he undid the straps and opened it up. Inside sat a pair of MMA gloves, yet if one looked closer, they were slightly thicker around the knuckles. This was not extra padding: these were aluminum and steel plates, custom ordered by Donavan back when he was putting fighters in the hospital instead of against the ropes. These plates, while thin, were rock-hard, and just heavy enough to inflict lasting damage against some of his opponents. Cracked jaws, concussions, broken ribs, they were nasty tools, completely against regulation. One of his unlucky victims was still in physical therapy to this day, despite being fought well over a year ago.

They weren't designed to keep Donavan's hands safe. They were weapons.

"Connor films the fight, Rivera and Trent take down King Croc by any means needed, Kipsang helps the kid... and I kill Daoud," He kept his voice somewhat hushed, sliding the gloves on for the first time in years. They still fit just as perfectly as last time, perfectly compressing his hand for a tight structure around his knuckles. Clenching a fist confirmed this fit, before sliding it off and back into the case. "Unless you've got a problem with it, Rivera, I'll do the wetwork this time."

obscured_light Shotgunpenguin PiePillager DarKnight36

 

[PiePillager]

Kipsang, now sipping on a bottle of spiced rum, couldn't help but chuckle. "They wish....eheheheheheh! To kill me!" he burst out with laughter. "I did nothing wrong to the mafias!" He took another long swig. "Ahhh," he sighed, falling backward onto the floor. "But you know, playing the game of the mafias is a dangerous game indeed, Donavan. Especially when it involves murder."

Kipsang then made several attempts to sit upright, failing twice before launching into a kip-up, landing back on his feet before taking another swig of rum. "Are you truly prepared for what lies ahead tomorrow? Are any of you?" he asked, looking from Donavan to Connor to Rivera.

 

[Shotgunpenguin]

Connor flinched at Rivera's touch, not expecting her to try and comfort him. His nerves were the furthest on edge they've ever been in his life, and he felt a surge of regret, even if it was unintentional. He tried to offer her a small smile to show he appreciated the gesture, but it was incredibly forced and empty.

Before, they could have just beat him up and handed him over to the cops. At least, that was the working plan that he had in his head. He didn't know how they would get past Bek, or get enough evidence that the organizers couldn't just sweep under the rug, but at least he had an ending planned out. But they were talking about killing a person, even if the alternative meant that they'd be killed.

"Wait. What do you mean you have experience?" His eyes were still tinged with fear, however there was a growing sense of unease as he slowly looked between Rivera and Donavan. Had Donavan... killed someone before? A growing knot slowly formed in his stomach, fear tying itself together as he processed the new information. Not only that, but Rivera, the woman who was trying to comfort him not even a minute ago, may have been in the same boat.

Hell, even Kipsang, the drunk old man who looked like he couldn't go five steps without stumbling over or into someone else, seemed a lot less concerned on the fact that they would be killing a person. And if the people behind Daoud wanted him gone, that only raised further questions about who he was. It dawned on Connor that he had absolutely no idea who his 'companions' even were beyond their names. Even the new guy that Rivera had brought on, everything about him was a mystery to the young man. He wanted to tell himself that they were just being proactive, that unlike him who was drowning in fear that they were focusing on what had to be done. But that still didn't stop the slow growing tinge of fear of them slowly creeping into his head.

"I-I don't know if I can do this." Connor's eyes were firmly glued to the floor, unable to meet the gaze of anyone else in the room. Even if he wasn't going to be the one killing a man, he'd still be watching it, filming it. He'd be just as guilty as Donavan would be, and he didn't know if his conscious could take it.

Mentions: PiePillager BakaTheIdiot obscured_light DarKnight36​

 

[DarKnight36]

"Kipsang is right," Trent interjected, his arms folded as he leaned back in the chair he'd taken. "Up to this point, none of you have done anything wrong. You have participated in the tournament as befits competitors. They have no grounds to blackmail any of you. But I guarantee if you murder Daoud, that will change."

Trent unfolded his arms and glanced down at one of his hands, wiggling his fingers. "However, if we must go through with the plan, there is a technique I could teach you Connor. It is not truly applicable in battle, but it will cause the recipient to fall into a death-like trance. If you are able to use it on Daoud, it will appear that he has died. We can then potentially give him the opportunity to escape. What do you think?"

 

[obscured_light]

She didn't mind that Connor had flinched. Hell, she had expected him to move away completely but Rivera was caught off guard by the way he looked at her and Donavan. Most people would have balked at the idea, absolutely refused, but Rivera knew that sometimes problems just didn't have morally correct solutions. Donavan seemed to as well as he pulled out his gloves and Rivera's heart dropped. It wasn't a lesson she would want anyone else to know.

Connor was right to look at them the way he had and the dilemma made Rivera hesitant to answer Donovan and Kipsang. It wasn't until Trent spoke up that the mood shifted slightly.

"You might as well teach it to all of us," Rivera spoke up. "Though, even if we do pretend to kill Daoud, aren't we still getting a bad rep? What's going to happen when they realize Daoud isn't dead? Unless they incinerate him right after...."

 

[BakaTheIdiot]

Now, killing Daoud was definitely not a good idea. A trail of blood leading back to him wasn't exactly ideal, but it beat being dead, and at least there was some level of shielding from repercussions in the form of protection from the mob. For now at least. Further, it made sense Connor had reservations about this. Of course he would. He was a kid. Hell, Donavan didn't even judge him for that, it was a natural response to the idea of killing someone. Still, there were other, more qualified members to do the dirty work. And even further, Donavan wasn't exactly surprised that the old man was against homicide too. For the first time, he even sounded sober. Everybody seemed to be in agreement that killing Daoud was bad, but at least they could come to the consensus that it "had to be done." Sort of.

But leaving Daoud alive? Now that was a terrible idea.

Donavan wasn't exactly a part of the mafia, and hadn't been for quite some time. But there were things he retained, and one of them was loose ends: they do not ever fly. Daoud was a loose end. If the group didn't do something about him, they would all become loose ends too. He wasn't super familiar with the inner workings of organized crime these days, but he did know what it was like to be a loose end.

"Woah woah woah, we're not seriously considering letting him walk, are we?" He placed himself between Trent and Rivera, locking eyes with her. "Rivera, he's a loose end. He is the loose end. I don't like getting bloody any more than the next guy, I promise, but if the organizers even think he's still breathing after our fight we are Capital-D Dead. And you are actually considering just... faking it?"

He looked at the rest of the group. Nobody was piping up.

"Are you kidding me? These people aren't stupid! They knew we were picking a fight with Bek, they knew exactly where we would be and when, and they've got eyes and ears everywhere. Clearly, these organizers, whoever they are, have friends in high places, and I do not want to fuck with that kind of power without some kind of leverage."

This wasn't going anywhere. Leaving him alive was more popular than leaving him dead. Donavan wasn't winning this fight for sure. "...You guys are really comfortable taking that risk?" His arms fell to his side, admitting defeat by rubbing his face with a palm. "Okay. Fine. We'll do it Trent's way. But if this shit goes sideways, I'm cleaning house. I'm choosing my own skin before I choose his."

He could only hope Trent's technique was as good a fake-out as he promised.

DarKnight36 obscured_light PiePillager Shotgunpenguin

 

[DarKnight36]

"I'd rather be a thorn in the side than a cog in the machine, Donovan," Trent said after a moment. "But it is you who will ultimately make the decision. Now, for the move..."

 

[PiePillager]

The next day started like any other. Fresh reports on the latest goings on in the tournament, breakfast served at the lounge downstairs, shady looks from other competitors, tired from fighting or partying the night before, concerned looks from tourists and fighters alike as Kipsang walked around, swigging some pineapple pina colada. It was relatively uneventful. Though because of what was at stake for the group targetted,by Bek time seemed to move slower than normal.

In a sense, perhaps this was a good thing. They had more time to collect and prepare themselves for the battle ahead. After lunch, the time was soon approaching to meet behind the parking lot of their hotel...however this time something was different from their last confrontation with Daoud and Bek. This time once they stepped foot outside the parking lot, they would feels eyes staring at the back of their heads, so to speak. "Bek" had made a public challenge after all and many fighters had wanted to finally catch a glimpse at the fighting style mysterious competitor who ranked among the top three so far. And at those foolish enough to challenge him.

There were only so many fighters loitering around the parking lot themselves, some in their rented cars, others just leaning against the wall, playing cards or taking the time to smoke as they glared at the doors on the lookout for Bek's challengers. The rest were taking a look from their hotel windows down below, even from the top of the hotel as if they could somehow see clearly from that height. Even stranger was that if one looked closely, they could see others looking on from other hotels, restaurants, and even atop buildings, all of their eyes fixed on this particular fight.

The only time their attention seemed to shift is when one of the "competitors" stepped forward. The man known to many as "Bek" but to the handful that knew his true name, he was, of course, Daoud. Behind him was his entourage, as usual though all of them looked a little less arrogant than when most had seen them previously. Daoud, however, seemed to maintain some facade of composure, standing proudly with his hands behind his back.

BakaTheIdiot obscured_light Shotgunpenguin DarKnight36

 

[DarKnight36]

"So it begins," Trent said, giving the arena of sorts a final glance-over before stepping forward. Trent was dressed a bit differently than he had been last night. His casual look was replaced by a tight black shirt, and cargo pants. He was barefoot, however, and carried no weapons or gloves. His hair was pulled back out of his eyes and held back by a small band. Even his walk was different; there was no swagger, just even, measured steps to stand before Daoud. To all those watching, it was clear: this man was strong.

The audience's eyes were inevitably drawn towards Daoud. How would he respond?

"I'm not here for you," Trent said softly, baring teeth in a smile. "Show me the real Bek."