Pioneer

Despite my constant questioning about what being the successor to the Mafia leader meant for me and how society functioned in this world, they didn't seem to care.

They didn't give me a second to catch my breath; instead, they focused solely on the training.

We began with stretching. Benjamin said that my body is like a blank canvas that I will be drawing on. Was this guy a philosopher? I half-expected him to start talking about tattooing instead of fighting.

He told me that every time I practiced, it was important to make sure my body was ready, but he warned me not to overstretch because it could make me less explosive.

It seemed like they were determined to keep me in the dark or maybe they expected that I would remember everything soon.

Benjamin focused on teaching me defensive movements to escape grips and prevent being taken down to the ground, where an opponent could easily dominate me.

We began by practicing techniques to break free from various holds, such as the collar grab or wrist lock. Benjamin demonstrated how to twist and turn my body to weaken the opponent's grip, using leverage and momentum to regain control of the situation.

Next, we worked on footwork and positioning, learning how to circle away from an opponent's attacks and create angles to avoid being cornered in a confined space. 

Benjamin emphasized the importance of staying light on my feet and constantly moving to prevent the opponent from closing the distance.

I found myself getting sweaty and breathing heavily, despite my decent stamina. I decided to take off my shirt, feeling more comfortable and unrestricted in my movements. Now shirtless, I continued to practice, focusing on staying light on my feet and reacting quickly to Benjamin's movements.

I would end up on the floor every time I could not avoid his assault.

Then Benjamin said something that caught me off guard. He said something about avoiding being trapped against a cage.

"Wait, what do you mean by a cage? Like in a martial arts competition?" I asked, trying to make sense of his reference.

Benjamin glanced at me and then at Rick. "Yes," he confirmed. "You will have to compete at some point."

Sure, I wanted an interesting and fulfilling life, and it was already looking much more interesting. Some people seem to really care about me.

But did I want to become a martial artist? Not really.

I enjoyed training, but the idea of beating someone up wasn't quite as appealing.

"Why would I do that?" I blurted out.

Rick came up to me and put his hand on my shoulder. "I think it's time to tell you a story."

"I don't want a story. Just answer my questions," I insisted, feeling a bit impatient.

But Rick was persistent. He placed his hand on my back.

"Come with me. Let's sit down and talk," he said and then led me into a room with sofas arranged around a small table.

On the table, I noticed bottles of whiskey and other liquors.

"You want some whiskey?" he offered.

"No, I don't drink." I shook my head. 

As we took our seats, Rick poured whiskey into two glasses.

"Come on. Don't be a pussy," He chuckled, pushing one of the glasses towards me. 

I looked at Rick, feeling a surge of frustration. "Alright, don't beat around the bush. What is this all for? I understand that I need to fight to get this Kainen thing under control, but is there anything else? You said that I need to succeed my father; what does that mean exactly? As the Boss of the Mafia, shouldn't I just be giving orders?"

Rick chuckled lightly and took a sip of whiskey. He leaned back, crossing one leg over the other as he settled into the sofa.

"It doesn't work like that, and you're not the Boss either." 

He continued, "I told you that those people below didn't bow to me for no reason. You will have to become a Pioneer before you can take over for your father. Being a Pioneer comes with both benefits and responsibilities."

As Rick began to talk about my dad, his voice was filled with respect. "You see... when your father was young, he was a force to be reckoned with," he began. "His Gang was small and based on the outskirts of Boston. However, he practiced and fought with more people than anyone else. People thought he was crazy because he would start fights for no reason. But what they didn't know was that he couldn't help it."

His eyes sparkled with admiration. "It was because of a mutation that forced him to fight; otherwise, Kainen would kill him from the inside. But your father didn't let that hold him back. With time, he became stronger and stronger, rising to become the Pioneer of the small Gang that he was a part of."

"Being a Pioneer comes with a sacrifice," he explained. "There is an organization called Knox, the Eastern Mafia of America, which is in control of half of the continent. We are all under their patronage, but we need to provide them with forces. That's what Pioneers are. We fight on the frontlines with Raven, the Western Mafia."

He took another sip of whiskey before continuing. "But there are also benefits. If you fight for Knox, you get to participate in the annual competition that decides the size of the area you can take under your control, as well as the financial support you will get from Knox."

"So you want me to fight on the frontlines? That's nuts." I shook my head in disbelief.

Rick leaned back in his seat, swirling the whiskey in his glass. "Not at the moment," he clarified. "You're too weak."

"But knowing your genetic potential, there is no one better to be a Pioneer. We need you, Young Master. It's either you or hundreds of our members will need to die to achieve the same result."

'Hundreds? Was I really worth that much?'

"Why should I risk my life for this?"

He sighed.

"You really forgot what being a part of the Maxwell Mafia means," he mumbled, rubbing his temple.

"Your father led a poor and miserable life when he was young, but he had enough of it. He built this empire by himself and kept everyone, including you, happy. If you don't follow in his footsteps, we could lose it all. Do you want to lead a miserable life?"

In my previous world, being a part of something—belonging to a community, was everything I had ever wanted. I craved the feeling of people caring about me, of leading a happy life.

Here, I had seemingly enjoyed the benefits of my father's position for the past 18 years, yet I hadn't been present to experience it!

Now, I was being asked to fight for something I hadn't been a part of. This was ridiculous. I didn't ask for this.

But on the other hand, for the first time ever, there was someone who needed me. They saw me as important. 

I needed to think about what was in it for me.

Reaching for the glass of whiskey, I took a sip, surprised to find its taste not as harsh as I had expected.

"So? What are you thinking?" Rick asked, his gaze fixed on me.

"Give me some time."

 "You still need to train, Young Master," he reminded me. "Your Kainen should already be growing."

I nodded resolutely. "I will train."

A smile tugged at the corners of Rick's lips. "By the way, I have a present for you."

"A present?" I was surprised. I couldn't recall ever receiving a gift other than from my parents.

Rick reached into his pocket, retrieving a gleaming key.

"Your own house. For your birthday," he announced, holding it out to me.

I stared at the key in disbelief.

"A house?"