22

Over the following weeks, the training sessions gained time and intensity, the practical part with Marcus' lessons extended to two other concepts, learning to fall and do takedowns and finally a single choke hold.

As soon as the former champion explained the first thing easily to the child so that he understood it, most of the takedowns he would receive would not be attacks, tackles or throws, it would be the child himself who would fall due to a blow received. The key was to learn to fall to minimize the damage and to be able to stand up before being attacked by his rival, and in case he could not get up quickly, to be able to face his opponent with his legs ready to kick and avoid being attacked.

The takedowns were fun, some could be caused with the same kicks that Razo was practicing on the supporting foot, others required using the body's mechanisms as the champion said, a pressure point, or another that acted as an axis and the weight of the boy and his opponent. They weren't big or fancy techniques, they were the most basic, but since there was a rule of three falls, it could be a good way if Mouse had the opportunity to win a fight.

One afternoon they were practicing the exits from the ground position, it was tiring and exhausting, but in one of the exits Mouse only managed to slip half of his body, Marcus had made things more complicated and managed to immobilize one foot, despite that the boy managed by instinct to grab onto Marcus's back.

"Mouse stop a second, stay in that same position..."

"Don't you want me to keep escaping?"

"In this situation, let's say you've tied with your rival, but you can't keep clinging to his back like that forever, sooner or later he'll turn around and everything will start again, put your right arm around my neck..."

However, the champion's neck was so wide that despite the mouse's efforts, the situation was more ridiculous than anything else...

"Leave it, I'm no good as a model, give me a moment to think of something..."

Marcus took some pieces of canvas and one of the sticks he used to put gloves on him, with some ribbons he attached the stick to the back of the chair, and with the canvas wrapped around it, it could have been approximately the size of a child's neck, seen from behind it could even bear some resemblance.

Mouse looked at the simulated doll with curiosity, a gesture from the former champion indicated that he should look at him, with one arm the former champion surrounded the neck and with the other arm he locked his grip and imprisoned the boy behind the nape of the neck.

It only took the boy two or three attempts to do the lock correctly.

"This is a guarantee, an insurance, but don't abuse it, do it only if you see your opponent behind you, don't look for it, it's just one tool of many that I'm giving you..."

Mouse stood up after being sure that he had understood the technique, and looked at Marcus. In an ideal world in this story he would have felt the father he never had in the former champion, and Marcus had an instinct of protection towards the boy that went beyond what was reasonable, but even between the champion who admired the genius of that scrawny boy and the boy who blindly trusted the words of the experienced fighter, the only thing there was was a certain sympathy and a mutual interest. Mouse wanted to win, and Marcus a new Battle Suit to get out of that grave for the talent that was the Gretia space station.

"Marcus, do you think I have a chance on the Hurricane?"

"Well, I can't know if you'll win, but we're going to prepare you to go as far as you can, but if you take advice, if you hesitate, if you're hurt, even if you win, quit... you'll have more chances once he sees your talent, but if you take a risk you can lose everything, and if you're going to bet, do it only in the first three fights..."

"Why the first three and not the rest?"

"The first match will be the hardest, in the other two you'll hopefully be facing some rabble that haven't had time to recover, but in the semi-final and final you might be up against someone as talented as you, you can't rule that out, or someone so physically superior that you could be in for a surprise, if you stop betting in the third match at least you won't lose everything… You'll need all the funds you can get to buy the skills and advance in class quickly or stay as close to advancement as you can, that will make it easier for you to get into a fighting school as well, and you won't have to fight as much in the next few years if you have any funds left…"

"Are the system skills that important?"

"Well, class G and F skills are rubbish, expensive rubbish at that, but they are designed precisely so that rubbish remains rubbish, that is why you have to get to class E as quickly as possible if you want to get out of this pigsty. This system is rotten, there are all insurmountable walls, the only thing that breaks the logic of the elites are the fighters and for that you have to be a Class E..."

"If fighters break those walls, why don't they prohibit fighting?"

"They tried, but the cure was worse than the disease, instead of having to keep a few individuals under control, they had to watch the discontented and bored masses who paid for their frustration by watching fights. In the end, they allowed fighting to return, they even encouraged and controlled it, or so my teacher told me, he belonged to the generation before the ban..."

"He always talks about his teacher, did he train with him for many years?"

Marcus laughed, the truth is that this child could have an overflowing curiosity.

"Hahaha, look, Mouse, in my long life as a fighter I have had four trainers who have accompanied me during various stages and for many years, but the one I call master was not any of them, and I never saw his face, I only heard his voice, I was in the cell next to the prison, I was only there for two years but he was able to correct a movement just by listening to the sound of my feet or the buzz of the air when I hit, most of the time he spent talking, but I learned many things..."

The child listened to that story in wonder.

"What did he do to be in jail?"

"Me?" Beating up a C-class guy in a bar who thought he was too smart, even though if I had known he was an elite I would never have raised my hand, they kept me in the rock for two years... My master never told me what he had done, I only know that he had been locked up there for more than twenty years, who knows what big fish he had messed with..."

"What was his name?"

"My master? His name was Lodgar Verminion, when I got out of prison I took his last name, he was a new man and it was partly thanks to him, I owed him my glory and my triumphs..."

After this pause to chat they continued practicing. The effects of everything Mouse did were barely noticeable, or at least he didn't notice it except the day after he had rested when it was as if his body was floating, however the rest of the days he always ended up tired. Every time he made an improvement both Blacker and Marcus only increased the pace and intensity of the practices. There were two months left until Hurricane.