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Journey of the Nobody: Ch.2

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Background Deliberations

“We judge ourselves by what we feel capable of doing, while others judge us by what we have already done.” Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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Scott was drained. He was exhausted, both physically and mentally, injured, but more than all that, confused. He should’ve been happy, but the odd foreboding feeling that something was off was something he just couldn’t shake.

What the hell is with this weird setup? The point system was one thing, but this…

Each contestant first had their weight and height checked, then they were asked to give a punch to a machine that recorded and gave a point level to their strength. He knew he’d place low, but surprisingly he didn’t place as low as he thought he would as there were quite a few people who with scores about the same as his, a sparse few actually below his score. But he knew that wasn’t a true indication of one’s power.

Didn’t see Emma there. Guess she was in a different block.

Since there were a large number of entries the preliminaries were split into eight blocks, and even then they were packed. There must’ve been a few hundred entrants in his block alone.

After that each contestant was required to fight in five 30-second matches against other members of the block, with the machines arranging their matches based on the measurements from earlier, though they weren’t exactly always balanced. Each fighter had five matches whether they won or lost and would be awarded points depending on some system that they weren’t made privy to, nor were they even informed how many points they got. Scott was actually surprised at how well he did, even if he didn’t do that great.

In his first three matches he barely hung on against three opponents of similar size to him, managing to land a few clean hits and some decent counters, but it was obvious they were superior. In his fourth match he ended up against some taller more muscular man who obviously outclassed him in several ways. However Scott got lucky, the guy didn’t take him seriously enough and when he got the chance managed to deliver a knockout punch with a chained wrapped fist right to the glass jaw while the idiot was taunting him.

Scott was on cloud nine after that, but there was enough time before his next match to calm down and keep it from getting to his head. In his final match, it was almost exactly the opposite: He got utterly trounced by some Asian teen with ridiculously long bangs and wearing a southern-style kung fu outfit. It was all Scott could do to block and do his best to keep himself from passing out, barely managing to stay awake for the match to end and having to be carried off the ring, blacking out not long after. Thankfully, he was only out for about half an hour.

Seriously, who was that guy? How long did it take him to grow his hair out that long, he could practically stab someone’s eye out with it!

Amazingly, after waking up and spending some time recovering Scott was shocked and thrilled to find out that he actually made enough points to get into the actual tournament. He had done it, he actually qualified… But that feeling of elation was soon replaced with one of unease.

As it turned out, the tournament was not going to be held in Paris as everyone thought. Instead it was going to take place all around the world. The qualifying combatants would be shipped out across the whole planet in different randomly selected groups, and it was in these far off locations that the contestants would fight. And the strangeness didn’t stop there. Each combatant would be given a special wristwatch that kept track of their movements, as well as give them updates on the leaderboards and, of course, tell time. It also served as essentially a debit card that could be used at an S.I.N. owned or sponsored restaurant or grocery store to keep them fed. Each combatant was given the equivalent of $100,000 U.S. worth of credit, and that number would never be refilled.

Not that it would need to be. Anyone who can’t keep themselves fed for the duration of the tournament with that kind of money either has one hell of an appetite, has incredibly expensive tastes, or is just a splurging idiot.

It would also serve as an I.D. to sleep at any S.I.N. registered hotels, so they would always have a place to get some shut-eye. But most importantly of all, it recorded their matches, including what kind of hits were landed and received and even who won and lost, which was especially necessary considering how the tournament was set up. Unlike in a normal tournament where two combatants were scheduled to face one another and the next one moved on, here the fighters would simply be let loose at a location and were free to choose who they battled and how many times they battled. Anyone could challenge anyone, and more importantly you could refuse a challenge. However, it’s not like you could simply coast on a victory here or there because there was a cutoff point for scores. At each stage of the tournament there was a time limit and a minimum number of points that each fighter had to receive before they would qualify for the next round, and out of those that actually made enough points to qualify only the half with the highest scores would be going on to the next round.

To some this would’ve seemed like merely an interesting way to set up the tournament, but Scott couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

It’s like we’re part of an experiment. It’s one thing to broadcast and record points in a match to determine the winner, it’s another thing entirely to be monitored like lab rats in a test. What the hell is with this-?

“Yo!”

“Huh?”

Scott looked up from his seat to see a young man in front of him. Apparently he’d been trying to get his attention. For a moment Scott thought he was the same boy who beat him his fifth fight, but quickly noticed the obvious differences: A white kung-fu top instead of a red one, and wearing a blue hat with a yellow brim and having his hair in a braid behind him instead of ridiculously long and gravity-defying bangs in front.

“So you just gonna keep starin’ into space or what?” the boy asked with a smirk on his face.

“O-Oh! Um, I’m sorry, I guess I’m a little out of it.”

“Heh, no kiddin’. I’m sure anyone would’ve been after taking a beating from my bro like that.”

“Huh? Wait, did you say ‘bro?’ You’re that guy’s brother? The one with the long bangs?”

“Yup! Name’s Yun Lee, and my bro’s Yang,” the boy introduced himself and held out his hand.

“Scott. Scott Lovett,” Scott responded while shaking his hand.

“So you’re pretty new to this whole thing, aren’t you?”

“Huh?”

“Street fighting I mean. I saw your match against my bro and you were pretty bad, no offense.”

“Heh. None taken. I’m happy enough that I even qualified for the actual tournament.”

“Hey don’t sell, yourself short,” said a voice.

Scott and Yun turned to see Yang walking towards them.

“Hey bro!” Yun called.

“Hey,” he answered back before turning his attention to the other man. “Scott, was it?” he asked. Scott nodded in response. “I mean sure, you probably can’t hold a candle to half the guys in here and your form is sloppy as hell, but there’s really something to be said for your determination.”

“You really think so?” Scott asked, surprised to be praised, if somewhat backhandedly, by someone clearly superior to him.

Yang nodded. “Still, maybe you might want to consider dropping out.”

“Huh?”

“I mean, sure you’ve got some good points but you’re way out of your league here, and there are plenty of people who could probably put me and my bro to shame. You might want to cut your losses now.”

Scott felt somewhat hurt but realized what he was trying to say. He didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell to get much further than he had. For all he knew he might come across someone who might do more than simply defeat him in a match.

Even still…

Scott inhaled sharply, before letting out a long breath. “Thanks, I appreciate it. But I didn’t come here thinking I could win, only to learn. I know you’ll never get stronger if you only pick fights you’re sure you can win.”

Both of the Lee brothers looked surprised by his response before returning to their cocky smirks.

“I see,” Yang answered.

“Guess you’ve got more guts than I gave you credit for!” Yun added.

“Maybe we’ll fight again in the future, I’d like to see how much you’ve improved,” Yang said.

“I’d like that too,” Scott answered. “Next time I promise you won’t come out unscathed.”

“Don’t you mean ‘next time I’ll be the one who wins’ or something like that?” Yun asked.

“I like to keep my expectations realistic.”

“Heh. You really are something else. See ya,” Yang said as he and his brother turned to walk away.

“Hold up,” Scott called. The Lee brothers turned back to him, confused. “I’ve got to ask, have you guys been in a tournament this before?”

“Nope. This’ll be our first international run,” Yun answered.

“How come?” Yang asked.

“It’s just…” Scott began, but faltered. After a moment he continued. “Does something about the way this tournament is set up seem… wrong to you guys?”

The brother’s exchanged a glance for a moment before responding.

“Well, it’s a bit odd sure, but I wouldn’t say ‘wrong,’” Yang answered.

“I mean, as long as they doesn’t pull of any stupid moves the guy can run his tournament however he wants, right?” Yun concluded.

“Hm,” Scott grunted. Their responses did little to aid his unease.

“Well, talk to you later,” Yang said while turning to leave again.

“Lates!” Yun called while following.

After a brief moment Scott overheard them talking to each other.

“Do you think he’s on to something?” Yun asked.

“Dunno. But let’s not forget Auntie came here,” Yang responded.

“Yeah, anything that could bring her out of retirement must be one hell of an opponent…”

Hm. Wonder who they’re talking about…
Obviously this is a more story-related chapter, not every single chapter will be a fight. So, the Lee brothers make a brief appearance, I hope I captured their personalities well enough for the fans! As for the tournaments system, along with building off of the mention of Dan barely gaining enough points to qualify in Seth’s SFIV intro cinematic the way the tournament is set up here is mostly a way not only to explain why the fights take place all over the world but also as an explanation of how Scott can lose but still stay in the tournament.

Anyway, hope you guys like and continue to read! Laters!
© 2013 - 2024 shinigamisparda
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ImmediateLight's avatar
:star::star::star::star::star-half: Overall
:star::star::star::star::star-half: Vision
:star::star::star::star::star-empty: Originality
:star::star::star::star::star-half: Technique
:star::star::star::star::star: Impact

Hi again. <img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/s/s…" width="15" height="15" alt=":)" data-embed-type="emoticon" data-embed-id="391" title=":) (Smile)"/>

Once again you made a great chapter. I really like the dialogue between Scott and the Lee brothers. I like how they show off near him (even though they say they don't have a chance, but I don't count on it <img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/x/x…" width="15" height="15" alt=":XD:" data-embed-type="emoticon" data-embed-id="93" title="XD"/>), and the fact he's being so levelheaded near them.

I also like the concept of the way the tournaments is being set up. Very realistic and creative. By the way, is the weight and height machine the fighters are using at the start was inspired by the same machine in my fanfic? Just wondering. <img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/s/s…" width="15" height="15" alt=":)" data-embed-type="emoticon" data-embed-id="391" title=":) (Smile)"/>

All over, the chapter was well written and the ending was very intriguing and I'm waiting to read the next one. <img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/s/s…" width="15" height="15" alt=":)" data-embed-type="emoticon" data-embed-id="391" title=":) (Smile)"/>