Chapter 61 – Earl

  Back at my cell, I lay back on my bed, hoping to pull apart what had just happened, but I hadn’t been healed fully, and I was tired. Oh so fucking tired.

  My weary mind wandered over the questioning I was to be subjected to, then I dismissed it. It wasn’t like I could be a traitor to anyone, seeing as though I’d been kidnapped from a world outside of this Union. It would be nice to know what happened with my mysterious buyers.

  I understood now why it had gone quiet from the Arena Monarch’s side of things, but I was beginning to wonder if I’d been forgotten about by the Siroth. The ever-increasing crowd of fans didn’t seem to suggest that was the case, and I enjoyed having their support more than I’d have expected. It had been that long on Earth since I had any kind of fans.

  I let my mind drift over my last few professional fights back home.

  The next thing I knew, a loud knocking on the door woke me up. I felt refreshed and almost fully healed now with my stronger body picking up the slack from the Able’s shoddy healing.

  I jumped from the bed and tore open the door ready for more bullshit, so it was with great surprise to find the morning servant standing there with breakfast.

  “Well, shit! Did I sleep a whole half a day and full night?” It was a rhetorical question, but the servant still answered.

  “Yes, sir. Captain Estwin checked on you yesterday evening at dinner time, and said to leave you to sleep.”

  “Explains why I’m ravenous, then,” I said, rubbing my eyes.

  The servant smiled nervously, and pushed the trolly forward for me. They used to be terrified when all this began. Now they knew I wasn’t generally psychotic unless provoked.

  She backed out of the room, and I kicked the door closed behind her before scarfing down the breakfast. Steaming sausages and eggs. Delightful.

  After a minute of disappearing magic of my own, I stood back from the trolly, stretched, belched, then flexed my fists. It was training time.

  Then I acknowledged the fact that the gloves were pretty much ruined. Their buffs had been slowly reducing as they became more worn, but after that last fight, there were holes across all of the knuckles, and they were hanging onto my hands with a few stitches.

  I checked their stats again and they were all but useless.

  Labor of Glove:

  Level Requirement (14)

  Price Range – 73 – 110 Unitols

  Attributes:

  Durability - 16 – 1.6%.

  Comfort – 10 of 100

  Special:

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  20% increase in hand and forearm strength.

  Yep. They were knackered. Training would have to wait. It was time to renew them. The only problem was that I didn’t much want an escort to the market. I just didn’t trust the bastards, so I hung around in my room until just before 10 o’clock. The corridor guards changed over at ten, so that was the time when the overnight guard would be at his least observant.

  When the time came, I slid out of my room, closing the door silently behind me. Then I set off quietly but with purpose so that I didn’t draw attention by sneaking. I wanted to give the impression that I was on serious business if I was spotted by the guard.

  Turning the first corner, I glanced back. The guard was half asleep and looking in the other direction waiting for his relief. From there, I retraced the route to the market and made it there just as the gate guards were changing over.

  With a wave and a nod, I strode past them, receiving strange looks, but no one seemed to know what to do about me. Within a few more seconds, I was into the thronging mass beyond.

  It was far busier than the last time I’d been here, I suspected that was due to the tournament hotting up now. If I was the type for regret, I probably would have regretted coming here alone. I was definitely going to be recognized, and if anyone was stupid enough to start any shit, then we were all doomed.

  As my eyes flickered around the place, I saw that there were plenty of guards positioned throughout the market. They were a stern reminder to most that there was a zero-tolerance approach to fighting which should prevent any scenes from unfolding. Still, I skirted around them, moving fast and with purpose.

  Arriving at the musty Grunir shop, I was disappointed to find it was busy. I could hear Dwim haggling a customer over prices like any true merchant should. I followed the sound until I could see him, then I picked through a few of the items on the shelf while I waited to speak with him.

  A few minutes later after he’d finished with the customer, having failed to make a sale, he wandered over to me.

  “Earther Earl, last sixteen. I’ve got to admit, I didn’t think you’d make it that far, but it’s very good to see you there. You’re good for business!”

  “How so?” I asked.

  “The gloves, my boy! The gloves. Seems everybody and their friends are interested in acquiring the gloves you wear.”

  I chuckled. “That good, eh? I’ll need a sponsorship from you then. Next pair free?” I waved my hands at him, displaying the worn scraps of leather.

  He looked around nervously, then pulled my hands down ripping the scraps from them as he did so.

  “Not good business.” He gestured at a shelf behind the counter where I saw hundreds of the same glove type. “Been making them quick and fast the last two cycles to keep up with demand.”

  I felt a surprising amount of relief to hear there were more available. “Good. Then I’ll have two pairs. They should last me until the end of the tournament.”

  “Sure you got enough coin for two? They’re 300 Unitols a pair now.”

  “300! They were only 73 the last time I was here!”

  “Supply and demand, Earl. You know what that is?”

  “Aye,” I said, slamming down a fist on the counter. “I’m demanding them for 8 Unitols, and you’re going to supply them for that amount, or I’m going to cause a scene in your pretty little shop.”

  His eyes widened, but he swiftly brought them under control and smiled at me. “Absolutely not. That’s simply not how business works. If they’re above your price range, then I have a few... choice... items out back, that you might want to consider.” Then the cheeky bastard had the nerve to wink at me.

  I felt the blood draining from my face to my fists. I really wasn’t looking for trouble, so I gave him one more chance. Leaning in close enough to smell the tobacco on his beard, I spoke quietly, “I’m not looking for trouble, Dwim, but I don’t take kindly to being bent over and shafted like this.”

  He stepped back quickly, hands raised between us as if that would help anything. “I imagine not, Earl. Which is why,” he said, glancing furtively around at the other customers. “You should have a look at some of my other gloves. New shipment out back.”

  It finally hit home that he was trying to say something without saying it. So I swallowed my anger for a moment longer and nodded to the door to the back of his shop. “You have something better?”

  “Not just better,” he said voice low, “but I’ll even throw in a discount.”

  “Alright then. I’m all ears.”

  He shuddered, then turned and set off toward the back of the shop, shouting for an assistant to hold the floor while he was gone. I followed eagerly, stepping into the back where I caught the briefest glimpse of armed people before the door slammed shut behind me. I recognized the sound of steel sliding from scabbards.

  I set myself ready to fight, then growled. “You don’t want to do this.”

  Then I dropped and rolled to the side, waiting in a crouch ready to spring at the first noise I heard.

  “Hello, Earl,” a sharp voice replied.

  A voice I recognized.