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Fight Night: Golden Daggers Club Edition

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Fight Night: Golden Daggers Club Edition Empty Fight Night: Golden Daggers Club Edition

Post by DonutCry November 20th 2021, 10:03 am

Fight Night: Golden Daggers Club Edition GscZHJF

Will Fight for Food

The night was young and the streets of Los Angeles were alive and well. A sea of people could be seen entering and exiting the various entertainment establishments that filled each corner of the streets. Such sights were normal, it was the weekend after all and people needed to wind down as much as they needed air in their lungs to survive.

Unlike the vast majority of the populace, chasing a weekend thrill wasn’t the reason the young Ibarra had been wandering around LA at night. Even if he did give up on his objective and decided to enter a bar, Ibarra had neither money nor the ability to legally consume alcoholic beverages… just another reminder that he was— in fact— far away from home. It was a good thing he wasn’t an alcoholic youth.

“This doesn’t look shady at all.” Ibarra sarcastically thought aloud then approached a scruffy looking middle aged man, that he had been watching for sometime, standing at the entrance of an alleyway. As Ibarra got closer to the shady individual, the young adult made a couple silent guesses as to what the older man’s occupation seemed to be, very few were the respectable kind. That was fine. Ibarra hadn’t exactly gone out job hunting at night expecting a cozy cashier job at some fast food restaurant.

“You lost kid?” The man said with a tone that was more annoyed than helpful. Now stood in front of the man, Ibarra could better make out a few distinguishing features. The man was tall, even taller than Ibarra was, had a pair of dark brown eyes that were currently glaring at Ibarra, and balding dark hair to match with a black biker vest.

“Yeah, lost. Ya got any jobs good for a lost kid?” Before the middle aged man could dismiss him, Ibarra opened his brown leather jacket to flash the two holstered pistols strapped on his waist.

For a brief moment the man simply stared at him in silence. Ibarra wasn’t quite sure what the other was thinking, but after a few seconds the man let out an exasperated sigh and gestured for Ibarra to follow as he headed into the alley.

“You willing to lose a few teeth, kid? Got somethin’ for you if your answer is yes.”

“Depends, do I get dental insurance?” Ibarra joked. “Either way, the answer is yes so long as there’s money in it.” He said with a jolt of enthusiasm.

“There’s money. The better you fight, the more you’ll see.” A grin crept up on the boy’s face upon hearing the answer. Acquiring money had been a peculiar problem for the young Ibarra, but now it seemed his luck was about to make a turn for the better.

Ibarra followed Bob, who he had pestered enough to receive an introduction, to a black door hidden beneath a flight of stairs tucked away at the end of the alley. A muscular man that was even taller than Bob was standing outside the door and blocking their entrance, but as soon as the man saw Bob he stepped aside and opened the door.

The aroma of booze and cigarettes hit Ibarra on the face as soon as he entered the door. Just as the smell suggested, there were people drinking all over the room. From what Ibarra could gather, he was inside an underground bar, likely one catering to the not so honorable members of society. Bob guided the boy to another flight of stairs leading deeper underground.

Loud music blared through Ibarra’s ears upon arriving at the second basement floor. A dozen multi-colored strobe lights swept across a wide sea of people in a manner that could make epileptics out of even the healthiest of individuals, and from the looks of the people dancing, Ibarra guessed he wasn’t too far off. Bob continued to head down the stairs indicating that this wasn’t their stop.

As Ibarra headed deeper underground the club music faded and was slowly replaced by another noise. This time it was the sound of crowds hooting and hollering that assaulted Ibarra’s ears. Bob guided Ibarra through a crowd even larger than the one at the dance floor up above. This floor had a hallway of rooms separated by thick glass windows. Each room seemed to be filled by a pair of super powered individuals duking it out and outside the rooms were people cheering for the fighter they had put their money on.

“Who’s the pup?” A stranger’s voice said. Ibarra had been too caught up by his surroundings and had just realized that Bob had brought him to a small yet extravagant asian man with dyed blonde hair wearing a yellow three piece suit. “Some kid. Says he’ll fight for money.” Bob said as he nudged Ibarra forward. “That true kid? You any good in a fight?” The asian man interrogated, eyes moving up and down Ibarra to assess the boy.

Ibarra flashed the man a grin and got into a sideways stance; then he threw a jab cross combination at an empty space and followed with a roundhouse kick all done in quick succession. At the end of his little demonstration Ibarra flicked his nose with his thumb. “Better than anyone in this room. Heck, back where I’m from they used to call me The Red Reaper!” He boasted proudly and although he truly believed he could beat anyone standing in the way of his long awaited evening at the buffet table, Ibarra did his best to be extra convincing. He needed the money badly after all.

The blonde asian man watched Ibarra with a deadpan expression. The guy didn’t seem at all impressed. Not uttering a single word, the blonde man simply grabbed a tablet, pressed a couple of buttons on the touchscreen pad, then finally looked at Ibarra. “Room 99. Better win me some cash kid.” The blonde man said, although still didn’t seem too impressed by Ibarra.

“You can count on it boss!” Ibarra replied, now grinning uncontrollably from ear to ear.

1030

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Fight Night: Golden Daggers Club Edition Empty Re: Fight Night: Golden Daggers Club Edition

Post by Nate6595 January 19th 2022, 2:07 am

There was an actress, if Abe remembered right, that once said "Los Angeles survives on that which is unpredictable. The unexpected courses through its very veins.". It was an insight that he found to be true, it was true about most places honestly, but it was especially true about this city. What he didn’t find true in the slightest was that it was a City of Angels. If it was a such city, then he wouldn’t be here on business, or at least Lucas wouldn’t be here on business.

There was no profit in dealing with angels. Angels didn’t make deals with devils, at least as far his religious knowledge went, and Angels certainly didn’t want what they were selling. Angels probably also didn’t sell anything they would buy, but they weren’t here to buy anything, not this time at least. He didn’t think he’d ever see an actual City of Angels, even if angels were used as a metaphor, he didn’t think he belonged in a city like that.

From the people he had seen topside, they seemed fine enough, but certainly not angels. There was certainly life, though. The city was alive and breathings, lights shining down upon them and bringing a glow to their activities. Parties, dancing, drinking, and all the thrills you could hope for on a weekend, it was all thriving here and it was in cities like that that Lucas and Abe could find their calling.

But where they were going, it was not in the lights of the overhead buildings. It was not where many others sought after their pleasures and thrills. No, their route took them into the shadows that were casted by the lights, their path lead them to one of the many overlooked shady allies the city had in great supply. They, it seemed, weren’t the only ones making their ways for the shadows. Ahead, just as they turned the corner, Abe’s eyes caught someone just heading in, lead by a burly man, and then replaced with another large burly man. The watchdogs of this place.

Abe’s eyes traced back to Lucas as they continued to slowly walk towards the door. “You take me to the nicest places.” He joked in a low tone. Joking wasn’t something that he did often, but with Lucas, a man he had been working with for a long time, well…some of Lucas’s habits did rub off on hum.

Lucas laughed at that, as he did every rare occasion Abe told a joke and then shook his head. “Meeting a client, a man named Grimshaw. He frequents this place, but if we want this deal to work there’s a catch.”

Abe stared forward again, now making eye contact with the man several feet ahead of them. He was still out of earshot, so Abe didn’t lower his voice just yet, “Oh really? What kind of catch?” He said, returning to his normal, less jovial state of tone.

“He wants tonight to be entertaining.”

“Oh?”

“And watch what Chimera’s top Samurai can do in a fight.”

“Oh.”

“This place has a fighting ring and you’ve already been entered. They should hopefully have a run open for you when we get there.”

Abe didn’t reply this time. They were at the door and now he could really see the height of this watchdog. He was at least a foot taller than Abe and Lucas, but that didn’t stop Abe’s gaze from meeting the man’s. It was Lucas, however, who spoke first. Lucas always spoke first. And second, and honestly he did all the talking. Abe only spoke when it was time to alert Lucas of dangers or of other news.

The exchange between them was brief. Simple introductions, proof of identity, and a quick sizing up of Abe. At first, claims were made that he didn’t look like a fighter, but upon seeing his weapons, the watchdog dismissed the notion and led them in. The first minute of them being there were to be expected, music blared, people drank and danced and everything else that people do in clubs like this, and for a moment it wore the guise of a place that was much like the rest of the city.

However, as they went on, going down further into the club were the music was lost to the depth, it became clear what really went on here. At the bottom in that hall, they met the man who they were assigned to meet and once more the conversation began. Abe usually drowned this out and took the time to monitor his surroundings, scouting for danger. But his attention was drawn back to the conversation as his name was called.

“Seven here will give ya the fight you been wanting.” Lucas commented, motion to Abe.

The man he talked to was short, balding, and a bit fat. He wore nicer clothes, though not quite a suit. A tannish coat with lighter toned pants. He looked like the kind of villain that might where a monocle in one of those old spy movies, having some cheesy name. Or maybe more like an Archologist? It was hard to place, but either way it was certainly an appearance that stuck out. When the man spoke, his voice was what you’d expect, not squeaky, but not as low as most others.

“Ah, I see! Well, you better hope he does or you’ll have made your flight for nothing.” Was that a joke?

Lucas laughed at it like it was, he was always good at forcing a real sounding laugh, and nodded. “Oh, I’d put money on it.”

“You might as well be!” The man shook his head, and then extended a hand to Abe. “Professor Grimshaw, a pleasure my sword-wielding friend.”  

Abe accepted the handshake and bowed his head, “Seven.” He said plainly, and then looked around. “Where am I fighting?”

“Ah! Yes, of course. I think a room just opened up for you. Let’s see here…” He motioned down the way, and nodded, “Ninety-nine is your room, you can just head on in! Go, entertain me for a bit, yes? And maybe even win me and your friend here some money, we’ll betting on it.”

Abe nodded sternly, and then turned, and started for the room.
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