Slave of Fignters "Champion of the Black Star Part One

Dinner. The smell of food. And Edmon noisily chewing away.

The expression on his face made it obvious that he was enjoying himself immensely.

- Mmm... I haven't eaten anything this good in a long time, - Edmon said happily while continuing to chew.

- I'm glad you liked it. Emali worked hard on it, - Squoid replied.

Meanwhile, Emali was treating Torc's wounds with a special spray and other medications.

- Ow-ow-ow! - Torc squeaked from the burning pain.

- Hold still. We still need to somehow set your ribs back in place, - Emali said with slight nervousness. - You really managed to get yourself into trouble on the very first day.

- Yeah... Feels like déjà vu all over again, - Torc sighed, remembering how on his very first day on Avalis he had nearly been captured. And how someone had saved him back then too. Though at least that time he hadn't been beaten half to death with broken ribs.

Squoid sat beside Edmon at the same table, questioning him: - You know, I'm curious... I've never met anyone like you before. You're probably from some rare species. But I just can't figure out which one. Though most likely, I've simply never heard of it.

Still chewing, Edmon replied: - I'm a human. Well, my people call our planet Earth, so that makes me human.

- I see... I've never heard of such a race before, - Squoid said.

In truth, Squoid knew perfectly well who humans were. A humanoid species divided into countless countries and peoples. In terms of technological advancement, they had only just begun exploring space, which was why they still were not part of the Coalition of Planets-the civilization of Earth simply had not reached the required level of development.

However, nine years ago, Earth had come under attack from enemies of the Coalition. In situations like that, there was an exception to the rules: if hostile forces attacked an underdeveloped civilization near Coalition borders, it could lead to the loss of strategically important territories and disrupt the military balance.

That was why the Coalition of Planets had sent its fleet to defend Earth. Fortunately, humanity proved far from helpless and managed to repel most of the invasion, though at the cost of enormous losses.

But even though humans had established contact with the Coalition, nobody intended to hand them rapid technological progress overnight. The process would certainly be accelerated by centuries, but humanity would still have to master those technologies gradually.

- And yet people like Edmon can be found all across the galaxy-though more often than not, as slaves. During the invasion, many humans were captured and sold to worlds at war with the Coalition. But Edmon didn't seem like a broken man at all.

- So how did fate bring you here in the first place? - Squoid asked.

- Well... it's a long story, - Edmon replied, continuing to eat.

- Don't worry, we've got plenty of time. The tea isn't ready yet, so tell us about yourself. After all, I've never met anyone like you before, - said Squoid.

Edmon finished chewing, set his utensils aside, and began his story:

- It all started with a sightseeing trip around the Moon-our planet's natural satellite. I was a nine-year-old kid, and I was lucky enough to win a ticket for the journey. But when our shuttle reached the far side of the Moon, pirates attacked us. They boarded the vessel. Some people were killed, while others, like me, were taken prisoner.

- Yeah... sounds like one of the worst trips of your life, - Squoid remarked with a faint smile.

- That's putting it mildly, - Edmon replied grimly.

- And what happened after that? Did you work for the pirates, or were you sold off?

- Yes, exactly, - Edmon confirmed. - But that was only the beginning. The real hell started when I and several other children were bought by a member of the Blood Hearts Assassin Clan.

Squoid nearly choked on his food.

- Wow... So you're one of them?

The Blood Hearts were an ancient organization of assassins. Within Coalition territory, they were considered an outlawed organization and ranked among its most dangerous enemies.

Edmon glanced away, smirked, and answered:

- Not exactly. Hear me out first.

He paused briefly before continuing.

- We were bought and taken to a place called the Selection. That was the territory where I spent the next nine years of my life. The conditions there were anything but child-friendly.

- The name alone is already terrifying, - Squoid muttered. - What kind of selection are we talking about?

- A selection process for children who would become apprentices and future members of the Clan, - Edmon replied calmly. - They brought us into a forest and left us there to survive. No help. No food. No proper equipment. They simply abandoned us in an unfamiliar wilderness.

- How many of you were there?

- Around a thousand. At least, that's what the people who brought us there told us.

- A thousand?! - Squoid repeated in disbelief.

- Yeah. But within a week, our numbers had dropped dramatically. A month later, nearly half of us were gone.

Edmon spoke as calmly as if he were describing something completely ordinary.

- Once a month, members of the Clan would visit us. They watched how we lived and struggled to survive. Afterward, they conducted a headcount, and that was the only way we ever learned how many of us were still left.

He fell silent for a moment.

- After the first month, only six hundred and four children remained alive out of the original thousand.

The room grew quiet.

- Some died of starvation because they couldn't adapt to living off the forest. Some got sick. Others poisoned themselves with berries or mushrooms. During those first days, those of us who survived kept discovering new ways to die in the wilderness.

- My God... What kind of horrors are you telling me? Anyone who would do that to children has to be a monster, - Squoid said, skillfully playing the role of an ordinary person horrified by something so far beyond the boundaries of normality.

- That was exactly what they were preparing us for, - Edmon replied with a heavy sigh. - To become as strong as beasts.

He fell silent again, as though his thoughts had drifted back to that place.

- Every year, the conditions became harsher. Gradually, predators were released into our territory, each more dangerous than the last. Then came the training. Now, on top of surviving and finding food, we had to spend our energy learning combat techniques and enduring exhausting physical exercises.

Edmon lowered his gaze.

- After those training sessions, finding food became even harder. Some people barely had the strength to walk anymore. Some died from starvation and sleep deprivation. Others were torn apart by predators because they no longer had the strength to fight back.

- How did you survive all that? - Squoid asked.

This time, the question was genuine. The conditions in which Edmon had grown up shocked him more with every detail. And these were valuable insights into the Blood Hearts and their training methods. The Coalition had long known that the Blood Hearts kidnapped or purchased children, but what happened to them afterward had remained a mystery. At least, not in this much detail.

- I had to eat my own waste and drink urine just to avoid dying from hunger and thirst, - Edmon answered calmly. - After training, there wasn't enough time or energy left to search for proper food. And finding food took time as well.

A look of disgust crossed his face. Even after all these years, the memories still made him sick.

Squoid grimaced involuntarily. The thought unsettled him. How could anyone push a person-let alone a child-to such a state?

Edmon continued:

- Eventually, the training killed almost everyone. Only eight of us remained, including me. One of them was my friend... Well, at least I considered him my friend back then. We went through that entire hell together.

He let out a weary sigh.

- But a place like that changes people.

- And what happened after that? - Squoid asked.

- The final trial, - Edmon replied. - The eight of us were forced to fight one another for the right to become an apprentice of one of the Clan's masters. The winner would gain access to advanced training and the Clan's techniques. Everyone else would continue their ordinary training and become little more than attendants for the apprentice.

- So only one person earned the right to become the best? - Squoid asked.

- That's right. And on the surface, it seemed simple: defeat your opponent and that's it. You didn't even have to kill them. But when I faced my friend... and won...

Edmon paused.

- I was ordered to kill him.

Squoid looked at him carefully.

- I refused, - Edmon said calmly. - And then the elders decided that I should be the one to die instead.

- Yet you're still alive, - Squoid pointed out. - How did you avoid execution? Honestly, this is the first time I've heard of someone being sentenced to death for showing mercy.

- The elders saw it as weakness, - Edmon continued. - That's why they condemned me. But my master... stood up for me.

- Your master? - Squoid asked. - What master?

- The one who had been training us in the forest all those years. He never told us his name. He always said we should simply call him Master and leave it at that, - Edmon replied. - I don't know why, but he defended me. He asked the elders not to kill me and instead grant me a probation period of three and a half years. He was supposed to take my friend as his apprentice, while I would be set free to make my own way in the world. Then, after three and a half years, we would meet again and fight. If my friend won, I would be executed. If I won, I would be given one final choice: join the Clan or die.

- And the elders actually agreed to that? - Squoid asked in disbelief.

Edmon nodded.

- The Master said that I had the greatest talent of all and that it would be a waste to throw away a fighter like me. The elders agreed. After that, the Master personally brought me here and sold me. But before that... - Edmon pressed three fingers against the center of his chest, over his heart. - He tapped me here several times in rapid succession, and after that, a power awakened inside me.

- The same power you used to send Petrion flying? - Squoid asked.

Edmon nodded and continued:

- He explained that by tensing the muscles around my heart, I could activate it. It doesn't just double my physical abilities. If the fight drags on and my opponent is strong enough, I keep getting stronger and stronger in that form. The Master called it some kind of accelerated growth of strength... - Edmon scratched the back of his head. - Basically, the longer I fight, the stronger I become. The only problem is finding an opponent who doesn't fold too quickly.

- Hmm... I see, - Squoid said thoughtfully. - So the Master sold you here as a fighting slave.

- Yeah, - Edmon replied with a heavy sigh. - But today I finally earned my freedom. They paid me, and I was about to leave this place... and the rest, well, you already know.

- And then your luck took a very sharp turn for the worse, - Squoid replied.

At that moment, Emali entered the break room carrying a tray with tea.

- So, how's Torc doing? - Squoid asked.

- I've treated his injuries. He's resting right now. A few ribs are cracked, but nothing too serious. I gave him some regenerative medication, so he should be able to get back on his feet tomorrow, - Emali answered.

- Glad to hear it, - said Squoid.

He turned back to Edmon.

- You still have your documents, right? Nothing happened to them?

- Yeah, they're fine. They're in my bag, safe and sound, - Edmon replied, touching the bag hanging from the back of his chair.

- Mind if I take a look? - Squoid asked.

- Sure... but why? - Edmon asked, puzzled.

- I'm just curious about your fighting record. Don't worry, I'll only take a quick look, - Squoid said with a slight smile.

At that moment, Emali placed a large cream pie on the table.

The moment Edmon saw it, he nearly jumped out of his chair. The smell alone was enough to drive him crazy. In nine years, he had never eaten anything like it. He didn't just want the pie.

He craved it.

- So, are you going to let me see those documents? - Squoid repeated.

Without taking his eyes off the pie, Edmon reached into his bag, pulled out a steel folder, and handed it to him.

- Well then, let's have a look... - Squoid said.

Suddenly, he grabbed his stomach.

- Oh... oh...

- What's wrong? - Edmon asked, concerned.

- Stomach cramps. Give me a minute, I'll be right back, - Squoid replied quickly.

Grabbing the folder, he hurried out of the break room and disappeared into the storage area.

Emali noticed that Squoid had taken Edmon's documents with him. She also noticed how easily Edmon had been distracted by food and hadn't even realized that he had essentially handed over his identification papers to a complete stranger.

"What kind of carelessness is that...?" she thought.

Meanwhile, Squoid locked the storage-room door and opened the folder.

As his eyes skimmed over the information, he froze.

One hundred victories in six months.

Not a single defeat.

Most fights lasted no longer than two or three seconds.

The results were astonishing.

Squoid slowly exhaled.

Now he was absolutely certain.

They needed to recruit Edmon.

A few moments later, Squoid stepped back into the room.

Meanwhile, Edmon was devouring the pie with obvious delight, looking completely satisfied with life.

Squoid approached the table and said in a rough tone:

- Well, free man? Looks like you're a slave again.

Edmon froze and stared at him in confusion.

- What do you mean...?

- Exactly what I said, - Squoid replied calmly. - The most direct meaning possible.

Edmon slowly rose from his chair, and then it hit him.

- Alright... old man... where are my documents?

- Your documents? - Squoid smirked. - I destroyed them.

Edmon shot to his feet.

- What the hell did you do that for?! Are you completely insane?!

He was already about to lunge at Squoid when the latter suddenly tossed the steel folder from behind his back straight at his face.

Instinctively, Edmon caught it and opened it.

The documents were still there.

Every last one of them.

- Relax, I was joking, - Squoid said, raising his hands in a placating gesture. - You're a strong guy, but you're unbelievably naive. You just handed your documents over to a complete stranger.

Edmon quickly flipped through the folder, checking to make sure everything was still there.

Meanwhile, Squoid continued:

- And how exactly are you planning to leave this place without any Tikits?

Edmon looked up at him warily.

- I'll earn them in the arena. Doesn't seem that complicated.

A faintly amused smile appeared on Squoid's face.

- Really? And what are the chances of you not getting cheated again? You don't know the first thing about how any of this works. Your former owner handled everything for you, and all you did was step into the ring. Either you'll get scammed again, or worse-you'll end up a slave all over again. Then you'll be stuck here for another six months.

Edmon fell silent.

Squoid had a point.

He genuinely had no idea how any of it worked. Registering fights, collecting winnings, entering tournaments-Simpon had handled all of that. Edmon had simply fought.

- So what are you suggesting? - he asked.

- Help, - Squoid replied. - We'll help you earn the money and arrange your departure. But on one condition.

- And what's that?

- You'll compete in the tournament on behalf of our shop, - Squoid said. - In return, you'll receive two and a half million Tikits. And once the tournament is over, we'll help you leave.

At the mention of the amount, Edmon's eyes widened. But his suspicion quickly returned.

- Why should I trust you? A minute ago, you were threatening to destroy my documents, and now you're offering me a partnership.

- But I didn't destroy them, did I? - Squoid replied calmly. - Besides... you helped us deal with Petrion. But at the same time, you've created a new problem.

- What problem? Are you seriously blaming me right now? - Edmon protested.

- Very seriously, - Squoid answered. - Sure, you beat them up. Good job. But once you leave, they'll come back for us. And this time, money won't be enough to make them go away. After a humiliation like that, they'll wipe our shop off the map.

Squoid paused and looked him straight in the eyes.

- But that won't happen if you stay with us. If anything happens, you'll be here to protect us. And after the tournament, if we lose, we'll leave this place immediately. And we'll take you with us.

Edmon thought it over.

Two and a half million Tikits.

And all he had to do was enter a tournament and protect these people from Petrion's gang.

It sounded almost too good to be true.

"And I'll probably get through the tournament pretty quickly anyway," he thought. "If all the fighters are around Petrion's level, at least it won't be boring."

- Alright. I'm in, - Edmon finally said. - Besides... I really did put you in this situation. So it's only fair that I deal with the consequences.

Squoid smiled with satisfaction.

- Excellent. Then we have a deal. Tomorrow we'll sign a cooperation contract, and in a month you'll have your first fight.

- Wait, in a month?! - Edmon asked in alarm. - You mean I'm supposed to stay in this place for another whole month?

Squoid tried to reassure him.

- Yeah, you'll have to be patient for a little while longer. A couple more months, actually. But don't worry-the time will fly by.

With that, Squoid stood up and called over to Emali:

- Prepare a place for him to sleep. I'll go check on Toreki and see how he's doing.

With those words, Squoid headed upstairs. There were four rooms on the second floor, one of which had been temporarily assigned to Torc.

Squoid stepped inside.

Torc was lying on the bed, wincing in pain.

- So, fighter, how are you feeling? - Squoid asked.

Torc raised himself slightly and replied:

- Better than before. Thanks to Emali. My ribs still hurt, though.

- That's to be expected. Get some rest, - Squoid said. - By the way, I have good news.

Torc looked at him with interest.

- I'm listening. What kind of good news? Did that merchant finally agree to help us get to the Second Level?

Squoid shook his head.

- That would've been ideal, but no. We found ourselves a fighter. And not just any fighter-a future champion. At least, I'm convinced he'll become one.

Torc frowned in surprise.

- You mean that guy?

- Yes, exactly him, - Squoid replied. - I looked through his records. The results are unbelievable: one hundred victories without a single defeat in only six months. And he agreed to fight for us for just two and a half million Tikits.

Torc looked concerned.

- Are we sure those wins weren't fixed? What if the matches were rigged and we're-

- Toreki, - Squoid interrupted, - do you honestly think someone could fake a hundred consecutive victories? After watching him wipe the floor with Petrion all by himself, you still have doubts?

Squoid chuckled and continued:

- And that's not even mentioning the crowd of armed idiots he beat beforehand. No, his strength is very real. What worries me is something else.

- What is it? - Torc asked.

Squoid clasped his tentacles behind his back thoughtfully.

- That kid has a habit of making life harder for himself. He's constantly challenging himself, constantly testing his limits. Always trying to become stronger.

He paused for a moment before continuing.

- On one hand, that's a good thing. But if he starts deliberately putting himself in danger during fights just for the thrill of it-or as some kind of training exercise-that becomes a problem.

Torc thought about it.

- You think he'd risk himself just because he's curious?

- I do, - Squoid answered. - And that's exactly why we're going to need a serious conversation with him.

He turned toward the door.

- Alright, get some rest. We have great things ahead of us.

With that, Squoid left the room, quietly closing the door behind him.

Torc remained lying in silence.

He stared up at the ceiling, replaying the events of the day in his mind.

"Wow... I really messed that up."

The very first day of the mission, and he was already beaten up, suffering from cracked ribs and sporting a massive black eye.

Actually, not just a black eye.

More like a complete collection of bruises.

Torc let out a long sigh.

- Am I ever going to become one of the greatest Star Hunters...?

With that thought lingering in his mind, he slowly closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.