Week 1 - Initiation

I looked at myself at the ice wall before me. Warped, almost unrecognizable. Sure it might have been because the ice isn't perfect, but there's a saying I could make out of this.

Maybe-

(No matter how much you try to run from it, time will always catch up.)

The original face I was born with is gone, replaced with humming archomatter that runs on millions upon millions of different sorts of calculations to rectify, adjust, specialize, and mimic every single muscle and motion that I normally did with my old face.

It was beautiful, truly. But it isn't right. It doesn't feel right. I placed the helmet back on my head as I walked back over to the sect entrance, seeing the kid pacing nervously.

(Hey.)

(Senior?)

(We don't have any cash on hand, and I can't find a general store that wants to actually barter whatever I had on hand.

It turns out that they seem to recognize clothes that are messed up from an attack. You got any ideas?)

Konglung just rubbed his chin, counting his finger bones for some reason. Must be to help him focus. Admittedly, it seems like it's working, since he looked a hell of a lot sharper than before.

(I may have an idea senior. H-however, it may not be appealing to senior's great rationale. Perhaps we could seek another method, allowing me to try and bargain with the lo-)

(Kid, whatever idea you got in mind, I'll listen to it. I've got an empty tank here, and I can't for the life of me figure out what I could do here. Speak your mind.)

Konglung coughed as he looked around for a moment as he walked closer to whisper something. I heard him, looked at him, asked him to tell me what his idea is, and told him to say it again.

(I-I believe that senior could become one of the Fairies' concubi-)

I raised my hand up to his face as I wanted to just.....break something.

(You're telling me, that there are some girls here that have the bright and shining idea to take slaves?)

I'm not gonna lie. I was impressed that they do have slaves in the first place. And I realize now why the sect is like this. My daughter. The Slaughterhouse Pact. It's coming all together.

(I think I know why your sect is like this, all I'll say is that it's stupid to keep the slavery portion of the Pact while making a schism.)

Konglung just looked confused about what I was actually talking about, as I shook my head.

(Alright, do you have a fight club?)

Konglung blinked in confusion, as he looked at me like I was speaking a different language. Well, I am, but the translator is working damn well within this armor.

Don't tell me that these guys are fond of slavery but don't have a way to make actual use of them in regards to entertainment aside from coital activities.

(A fight club? What does senior mean?)

{I can't. I just can't.}

(A fight club, kid, is where people walk into, look for a person to slug around and make bets on who wins or loses. You know, a gamble, of sorts, if you understand what I actually mean.)

Konglung tried to think about what I just said as his eyes gained a shine to them. He's got himself a possibility from what I just said to him, doesn't he?

( I think I have a good idea senior! Please follow me for a moment. I know where we could go to for this "fight club" you speak of.)

The cheer in his voice, by the pact it's nauseating. It almost makes me want to vomit. Shame I don't have anything left in the bank to blast out.

He ran ahead of me, as I looked at him for a split second before sighing again and giving my mechanoids the option to charge for the time being. It's not like there was anything that they could do here, aside from combat.

But from what I've seen from this place, combat's not all that much of a natural occurrence. Actually, the walls have some scratches on them here and there, but that must be the average wild animal that gets far too close for comfort.

I walked past the gate guards as Konglung waved me over to come and follow him.

And follow him I sure as hell did. He said he was a slave here, but with the way that he holds himself, it appears that he's not too bothered about the fact that his previous owners could be lurking around, waiting for a chance to pounce and recapture their "property".

I could tell that he held the place with some sentiment, and I'm sure that he's not bullshitting me. But if there were certain aspects that he omitted from his little story, it'll be a fat pain in the ass to have to bail him out of it.

He ran past the slightly crowded roads, looking for a specific alleyway, with the way he turns his head so fast to all of them and stops about thirty yards away from the sect entrance.

(Is this the place kid? It seems a little, well, minuscule.)

(Worry not senior! I know these roads like the very face that the heavens have given me, and if I don't, then my name is not Zha-)

The kid froze up for a moment, while I got a little bit curious as to why that was the case. He seemed to be okay, but the freeze from that, was a bit, too much.

Trauma, eh? I could understand what the kid wanted to avoid it. I'm no therapist, that's what a highmate is for.

(Keep talking kid, do I get to beat someone to knockout here or is it a kill-on-sight sort of situation going on in this club you're looking for?)

The glaze in his eyes went away as the kid blinked about six times before he cleared his throat.

(A-Ah, yes? The battles you fight will only ever fall into the category that you wished for them to fall under. In the normal bouts, you must exhaust your opponent's Qi to around a quarter of it's true strength before the referee would rule the bout in your favor, while in the formal bouts, it's....well-)

(The actual kill fights, am I correct?)

(Exactly senior. This junior would like to suggest that senior fights within the normal bouts. The winnings may be more limited in comparison to the formal bouts, but what are winnings compared to one's life.)

(Lemme guess, you're gonna say something along the lines of "that integrity doesn't hold a candle to survival". Well that's not the worst thing I've heard speak out of your mouth.)

{Thing is, I need a benchmark, and people holding back in the normal bouts don't exactly fill me all that much confidence in categorizing the actual strength they've got going on in the planet.

Hell, my daughter is formally inducted into the Sanguophage empire, so that's a huge scary as it stands. Imagining what other sorts of monstrosities tht could be lurking around here is already giving me the heebie jeebies.}

(W-well, that is....)

(Correct. But, I need information, and if I gotta tear a man's arm off and beat him to death with it, then I'll make damn sure that I can do that.)

Konglung looked at me with eyes filled with fear. Fear that could make a man want to run. I've been a runner for all this damn time, might as well make something out of this place while I can.

Konglung, the poor little shit, led me to a doorway to the actual club, and to be honest I didn't really know what I was supposed to be expecting.

I was looking at a deep stairwell to whatever it is that they had going on. Not half-bad for a half-baked attempt at a gladiatorial arena of sorts.

He went ahead as I followed, making to have my helmet take in the information as best as it could, before stopping as Konglung reached a metal door.

I quickly looked at it, compared it to the archotech repository in my brain and couldn't help but crack a smirk. Uranium.

The spent type, which is supposed to be dangerous, but you can't dent that the thing is more than strong enough to be used for security.

{And when needed, artillery.}

He knocked on the door, waiting for the reaction on the other side, as he glanced at me with fear.

(Give them a moment. They may be a little busy.)

He nodded at me as I made a quick check on my charge rifle. Everything's where they're supposed to be, and maintenance is more than simple enough when you've got the manipulation percentage like I do.

I quickly check my armor while I was at it, and my assessment was that I stank to high heaven, with something close to a cow farm manure pit and a tox grenade mixed together.

Cleaning once we were done with all of this. Thank God that there was heating in the first place. My body might be resistant to a large amount of the weather, but I'm not going to be gambling on archoskin to handle subzero temps around here.