23 | THE BRAWLER KING

Warning: This chapter contains a graphic mutation scene which can be found disturbing to sensitive readers. Viewer discretion is advised.

Omar stared at his reflection, frowning. The man shown in the mirror was a stranger to him. Dressed in desert dweller scarves the color of Rubre sand, his face was mostly concealed by the shadows of his cowl. An old hatchet rested at his waist, ready for quick action. He prayed he wouldn't need it.

Behind him, claws scratched wood. He glanced over at Kaso and watched the Parasect dig at a knot in the floor. Upon closer inspection, he found a small cluster of mushrooms in the hole. He bent down and nudged Kaso aside, poking the fungi with the hilt of his hatchet. Moisture had seemed to have collected in the shady dip; it made the perfect habitat for Kaso's toadstools to grow.

"You have a green thumb," Omar complimented Kaso. "Or, uh, a green claw. Is this mushroom dangerous?"

Kaso clicked zir mandibles and bobbed zir head then returned to scraping out the fungi.

He breathed out a laugh through his nose. "Yeah, you should get rid of it."

His Parasect turned back to zir task at hand and shredded the mushrooms. Spores flaked off of zir carapace, colored a dark orange hue. Omar fetched a flask of water to wash it down. The spores swirled in the clear liquid then trickled south due to his uneven floorboards. A puddle swelled beneath his table, sheltered from the light at its angle.

Deciding to clean this now rather than later, Omar spent a few minutes searching for a cloth to soak it up. He crouched down with a rag in-hand to wipe up the mess only to find a rotten apple core in the center of the puddle. Cringing, he reached for the soggy fruit. His fingertips brushed something spongy. Eyebrows knitted, he pulled it out and found mushrooms similar to Kaso's covering the fruit where the spores had touched it.

"Were you eating this earlier?" he asked Kaso, confused. Omar could've sworn this was the apple he was snacking on two nights ago.

Kaso shook zir head.

Omar placed the apple core on his desk and grabbed his letter opener. He sliced the mushroom caps off and waited. Nothing changed. He placed it near Kaso and watched spores fleck onto the fruit. Still, nothing new spurted. He returned the apple core back to its spot under the table and observed it. As the minutes had ticked by, the spores clinging onto the fruit transformed. After settling into the core, they surged from the flesh in thick clumps. The fungus protruded outward with bulbous crowns that flared out into caps identical to Kaso's.

He finished drying the puddle and threw the core out his window. An awful idea came to life in his brain as he processed this new information. August had told them he would have to face a Water-and-Dark-type Pokémon called a Greninja. Water-types were almost always damp. The Underground, according to the pirate, was tucked inside a shadowy cavern. If Kaso managed to cut the Greninja and lodge zir spores inside the wound—

Omar clenched his jaw. What was he thinking? Weaponizing the fungus was inhumane. The Parasect line's mushroom was a cursed parasite that seized total control of its host's body. Lang was the one who told him that; she'd dealt with sick Paras in the past. The way she phrased it, the Parasect mushrooms were one of the worst things in all of Caelum. Unlike Pokérus, the parasites didn't outright kill their hosts. They rendered them braindead as slaves to their newfound masters.

Kaso was a Parasect with Pokérus. It was a possibility zir mutant spores could carry the virus on top of everything else. If that were the case, he would be dooming the Greninja for certain death on top of the Pokémon becoming a shell of zir former self.

But what if the Greninja was undefeatable? He'd promised August he would help her rescue her sister. He knew for a fact she would suffer a fate worse than death if they couldn't save her. Still, could he will himself to order Kaso to use this wicked trick? Exchange one life for another? His head spun, feeling ill with all this building pressure.

A sharp rap snapped him out of his dilemma. Not waiting for a reply, the door swung open, and August barged in. She scanned him top to bottom and said, "You look mean. Good."

He tried to smile, but his stiff grin resembled a grimace. "Thanks. Um, can I get your view on something? It's about the brawl."

August winced so quickly he nearly missed it. "Aye."

"I want to use Kaso."

"'Cause you care too much about Nuri an' Marley?"

He wrung his hands and sat down on his bed. "It's 'cause zie has, um, useful fighting skills."

"Eh, I don't think that's enough. The Greninja knows Ice Beam. Bringing a Grass-type's a shitty idea, even if zie does have Pokérus fighting skills. You need more than that fo' Martim."

"But Kaso's Pokérus gave zir a new ability."

"What's that?"

Omar hesitated. He glanced away from August's intense stare and rubbed his neck, admitting, "Kaso can spread zir mushrooms to others. I tested it with an apple. I could, we could, we could use that... in the brawl..." His voice trailed off into a hush, too ashamed to continue speaking.

A heavy moment passed as August digested his words then checked, "You want to use the mind control shrooms on Greninja?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

Footsteps came close to Omar, and the pirate stooped beside him. August nudged his side so he would look at her and told him in a low voice, "You don't have to do this; I know you don't want to. This dirty work's my area. Don't think you have to pay me back with blood. It's not you."

"You're right," he agreed. Well, believed he agreed. His body tensed and coiled as his thoughts ran wild and free, trapping him in a state of discord. "I don't want to do this, but I have to. I think that fight with Angeleyes showed me the real world."

"Don't let that dastard change you," she demanded, bristling at the mention of the Flying-magician's name. "You're a good man."

A harsh glower darkened Omar's gaze. Those four words triggered a soft spot hidden beneath his ironclad composure. His strong as stone patience ruptured into a million shards, unleashing a torrent of pent-up stress he'd kept buried his whole life.

He sharply retorted, "No, I'm not. Not by my nana's rules. Not even by my own. A good man doesn't let his friends get hurt over and over again. My nana taught me peace was always the answer, but I don't think it is. Not anymore. It can't be. You can try to make peace, but people won't always listen. They beat you up, and you take it. I take it. I take it because fighting back is wrong. But that's not what's wrong. Taking the beating because I'm too scared to fight back is what's wrong."

The pressure squeezing his chest vanished as he ranted, providing him with momentary relief. As soon as the steam cleared, however, he felt hollow. His frustration faded into disappointment, and his face went hot with shame. He bowed his head and wrapped his arms around himself, curling to make himself small.

Omar's volume dropped as he finished, "Yeah, I can avoid violence, but I can't sit back when it happens. That gets people I care about hurt. If fighting is what I have to do to help, then I have to do it. I don't want things to be worse than what they are right now."

A hand gently placed on his shoulder. August squeezed his arm, much like what he'd do to her and the others to comfort them, and sighed.

"I get what you're saying," she said, disheartened. "I don't like it, but I get it. If this is what you want then I won't stop you. I trust you know what you're doing."

Omar grabbed ahold of her hand and ensnared her into a tight hug. He closed his eyes and murmured, "Thank you."

Her rigid posture relaxed slightly, and she patted his back in an awkward manner. "I knew you were still soft under all o' that. Don't let that part go."

He chuckled, expelling the gut-wrenching nerves collected in his stomach. "You have some of it, too."

"Shut it."

Omar laughed again at her protest and released her from his embrace. Kaso scuttled over to where they sat, refocusing their attention.

"We got to move. Gracie'll need to talk to Kaso to learn zir moves; I don't know how long it'll take. It best be fast. We need to get to Martim today," August decided as she rose to her feet. "Let's go."

"C'mon, Kaso," Omar said, gesturing for his Parasect to follow the pirate. He was the last one to leave his room. Sparing one last glance at the window he threw the mushroom-apple out of, he shut the door and departed.

⚔️

Challenging the Brawler King for his title was a much easier task than Omar had anticipated. They found the brawling conductor on his way to his booth and put in Omar's request before anyone else with the help of a few incos. The conductor accepted the bribe without a second thought and directed the duo to the challenger room at the bottom floor of the colosseum. August had split ways with Omar then, telling him she didn't want to risk meeting Martim. His heart had dropped as he'd watched her go.

The waiting room was a grimy place. Simply walking into it had Omar gagging and wheezing for fresh air. Mounds of bodily waste contaminated the cramped area's floor and smeared the walls. He refused to touch any of the rotten-colored stone in fear of what disease he'd catch. Instead of sitting down on the splintered bench, he waited by the exit and gazed outside.

A different kind of intensity manifested within the colosseum. It was raw. Primal. From his position on the ground floor, he glimpsed hundreds of people and Pokémon crowded in the stands. They were no more than blurry specks of color eager for gore. His teeth rattled like the vibrating ceiling above from the thunderous clamor overhead.

Omar took deep breaths and went over the advice August had given him. Hide his fear. Keep his eyes on Martim. Never turn Kaso's back towards Greninja. Remember the codes for Kaso's move-set. Watch out for Martim's codes; all brawlers used them. Win at all costs. Be prepared for loss.

Outside, the referee waltzed into the center of the battlefield and yelled, "Who wants to see some blood?" The crowd cheered in response, and he cackled. "That's what I wanna hear! Today's challenger is a hot-blooded lad from Rubrelum with nothing to his name. Let's see what type o' show he gives us. Give it here for Ramo and his Parasect!"

"Ready, Kaso?" Omar asked his Parasect.

Kaso clicked zir pincers.

"Yeah, me too."

Omar swallowed the bile in his throat and smoothened his anxious features into a stoic mask. Bracing himself, he guided Kaso out of the waiting area and into the arena. The crowd's deafening roars escalated at their appearance, causing the ground to shake. He walked stiffly to his brawling position and nodded to Kaso who went to zirs. This was it.

"A strong-looking fellow, ain't he?" the referee called to the crowd. "Let's see if he's brawny enough to take the mighty Brawler King's crown. Give it here for Martim Vaz and his Greninja!"

From the shadowy entrance on the opposite side of the field, a tall man and his amphibian crossed into view. Martim carried an aura of trouble that matched his confident stride and devilish smirk. His Greninja walked in his shadow, face vacant of any emotion. They lacked malice; this was a game to them, Omar realized. Just as August had said.

Heat crept up Omar's neck. He wouldn't lose to someone without any honor.

The referee moved from the center of the field and brandished a tattered flag. He held it above his head and yelled, "Ready"—he yanked it down—"go!"

Not wasting a second, Omar shouted, "Flank speed!" Reach your top speed: Agility.

Kaso darted forward in a ginger blur as zie circled the Greninja. Zir speed reached a pace beyond comprehension; zie flickered between visible and invisible.

"Cool zir down, won't you?" Martim said, unfazed by Kaso's feat.

The Greninja sprung into the air, soaring high above the battlefield. Ice crystals burst from his mouth in a brilliant, glacial volley. The Ice Beam showered the earth, layering the terrain in a thick coat of frost. Kaso skidded across the ice, narrowly dodging the frigid strikes.

"Zie still looks high-strung to me," Martim noted, tilting his head to the side as he smirked. "Beat that energy outta zir. Blackwater."

Throbbing orbs of smoke swelled Greninja's webbed palms. He flung them into the ground, and thick smog flared up on impact. The Smokescreen eclipsed the arena; he and Kaso disappeared.

Panicked, Omar shouted, "Kaso, Sweet Scent!" He remembered his codes right after and bit his tongue in chagrin.

The cloud of smoke warped as lightning-fast figures charged through it. Gurgling water and shattering ice met Omar's ears, only heightening his frenzied nerves. Ice shards launched into the air, slicing the smog apart and loosening the aroma of Sweet Scent. His eyes watered and burned as the gust carried the attack his way.

"Get out of there!" Omar yelled as he rubbed his stinging face. He needed to see zie was okay. "You—"

He cut himself off with a gasp, almost falling to his knees. Violent tremors jolted the earth, fracturing the ice into great, jagged fissures. Water erupted through the clefts. Kaso, caught on a geyser, soared through the air and crashed into the ground. A scarlet-webbed crater crackled around zir quivering form.

"Kaso!" Omar cried, horrified by the sight of his Parasect covered in bloody gashes.

The Greninja prowled out of the gloom, his eyes colored hot pink. Water Shuriken swirled into his digits. He pelted the sharpened stars at Kaso—the attack skimmed over zir. His tainted eyes squinted.

"Clean your damn eyes!" Martim demanded, annoyed.

Omar swiftly called, "Don't let him! Attack!" Leech Life!

Kaso forced zirself up and steadied zir wobbling legs. Long, thick needles the size of icicles blasted from zir mandibles in a Leech Life barrage. The venom-drenched barbs lodged into the Greninja's raised arms and shredded zir elastic skin. Pale green energy glided back to Kaso.

Martim directed, "Cool zir."

Omar's teeth clenched. "T-take it!" Please work, Endure.

Red light fractals swarmed around Kaso, and the Parasect squared zir feet. The Greninja paid no heed. Ice Beam blitzed from him again, arcing through the air like a volley of arrows. A horrifying screech tore from Kaso as the attack crushed zir in a cell of ice. Zie collapsed in a limp, frost-laced pile. Bloodied snowflakes fluttered atop zir.

Omar went deaf to the world as the crowd erupted into cheers. His breathing halted. This couldn't be the end. Kaso knew what that code meant, he knew it. There was no way this was their fate.

Martim laughed at Omar's shocked expression and told his Pokémon, "Shade, give the people the big finale they want."

The Greninja jumped high into the air, stretching out his leg. Kaso twitched. As the Greninja brought his limb downward, Kaso faced skyward and unleashed a storm of Leech Life. At the same time, a plume of yellow-and-orange spores exploded in a mushroom cloud. The Greninja got coated. He flew back from the Leech Life's powerful impact and slipped across the icy flooring.

Spirits raised, Omar ordered, "Go under!" Dig.

"Don't let zir! Blackwater!" Martim countered.

Kaso's battered pincers tore apart the exposed earth and vanished beneath the dirt. The Greninja was slower this time. He released a thinner Smokescreen, his joints stiff in movement. Kaso's Stun Spore was working. Before the smog hid him, Omar saw the Greninja blasting water back into the crevices to flush out Kaso.

"C'mon, c'mon," he whispered. Kaso wouldn't be able to survive another hit even with zir Leech Life's health restoration.

The smoke cleared, revealing a confused Greninja. Kaso was nowhere to be seen. At first. The earth rumbled, and Kaso sprung out of the dirt with a Leech Life attack. Quickly, the Greninja produced a Water Shuriken the size of a shield. The needles penetrated the water, but it didn't pass through. Grunting, the Greninja thrust the disc full-force at Kaso. Zie dodged it.

"Get yourself together," Martim snapped.

The Greninja nodded and raised his arms for another Water Shuriken. As soon as the water began swirling, he stumbled. Wheezing, he hunched over. The tongue wrapped around his neck was darkening. An angry red hue overtook the pink, and it wasn't because of blood. Deep cuts from the Leech Life revealed festering wounds in the Greninja. Festering wounds sprouting dark ginger fungus. The Greninja weakly tugged at his tongue and stumbled again.

"Snap outta it!" Martim barked. "You 'ear me, Shade? Get your shit together, this ain't time for bein' confused."

Guilt gnawed at Omar's conscience as he gazed at the disoriented Greninja. It would only worsen. The Pokérus accelerated Kaso's spores' growth. Swallowing the bile in his throat, he said, "Go, Kaso."

His Parasect had no qualms in blasting the Greninja with yet another Leech Life. The sapphire amphibian's legs gave out from under him. Still, Kaso persisted. Zir barrage worsened as he drew nearer to the Greninja, frothing at the mouth as zir health replenished.

"Get up!" Martim yelled, desperation tinging the Brawler King's plea.

The Greninja began to convulse with violent, unnatural lurches. His limbs twisted and bent in appalling angles with his skin morphing into different colors. Kaso came closer, zir Leech Life attack strong and steady.

"Stop it!" Omar told zir, horrified by the Parasect's ravenous bloodlust.

Kaso halted obediently. Clicking zir pincers, zie scuttled to his side. He spared zir a single glance, his trembling gaze locked on the gruesome scene in front of him.

The Greninja's seizure slowed to a stop. Croaking in raspy breaths, he resembled a husk of the Pokémon he was before. What was once deep blue on him turned into the muddled color of a contaminated waterbody. His white accents yellowed into a mustard hue. Mushrooms identical to Kaso's speckled his blood-red tongue. A milky film coated his eyes and turned them into a hauntingly, pure white stare. Slowly, his eyelids slid shut, and the Greninja fell over. Fainted.

Martim noticed his partner's changed form and turned to Omar, red in the face as he screamed, "What'd you do to 'im?"

"I-I'm sorry," Omar stammered, dread seizing hold of his being. He meant it. Desperately. His hands trembled at his sides.

The Brawler King stormed towards him, reaching for the sword at his waist. "You're gonna pay fo' this, you piece o' shit."

Kaso stood between them, brandishing zir pincers at Martim. He snarled at the Parasect and started to unsheathe his weapon. To harm Kaso. Fears shoved aside, Omar raced forward with his hand on his hatchet's hilt.

"Oi, oi! This ain't how the ring works! Calm down, you louts," the referee interjected, running out to the group. The gigantic Drapion tailing him forced the three to oblige. "There's no fighting in the ring. Take that elsewhere. Right now, we have shit to do."

Martim gnashed his teeth. He tore something off of his arm and shoved it into the referee's grasp, snapping, "Take it. I don't want it. This place is a shit hole anyway." His deadly glare burned into Omar. "You, Ramo. Watch your back." With that, he spat at them and stalked off to his fallen Greninja.

Omar's stomach curdled; he felt as if he were going to vomit. He hadn't meant to doom Martim's Greninja. Well, he did, but he didn't want to. He had to, there was no other way. Shameful tears blurred his vision.

"Man up, won't you?" the referee grunted, annoyed. He then cleared his throat and shouted to the crowd, "Martim Vaz has lost his title to the throne. A new champion reigns supreme!" He snatched Omar's left arm and pulled it high in the air. "The new Brawler King of the Underground is Ramo of Rubrelum!"

The referee held onto Omar as the crowd went ballistic, forcing him to gaze at the beaming audience thoroughly entertained by the havoc he'd caused. His irises trembled. The referee finally released Omar and gave him the object Martim had thrown. It was an ebony gauntlet with silver embellishments and sharpened fingertips. Aqua blue veins resembling lightning strikes ran through it with all its lines leading to a gemstone in the center of the back of the hand.

"Take care of this; there's only one King's Gauntlet. We can't afford another. All the enchantment blacksmiths were wiped out," the referee warned.

"It's enchanted?" Omar said, dumbfounded.

"Aye. It's an Electric-type. Say 'Tono' to use it." He grabbed onto Omar's shoulder. "Come back here this time tomorrow to brawl your own challengers. Good luck. You'll need it."

Omar slid on the gauntlet and flexed his hand. His guilt only worsened. The blue color reminded him of the Greninja brain-dead on the field. It wouldn't have been possible for him to wield this weapon without the death of another. Choosing one person's life over another's wasn't what he was taught to do. He had to prove this was the right decision. August's sister had to be rescued. If she wasn't, then his divergence from his nana's wisdom and the loss of the Greninja's life would be all for nothing. His fist clenched. He would find success.

⚔️

"What was the brawl like? I've never seen one in-person because Waywyn prohibited them. Truth be told, there were some people who disobeyed that rule and brawled anyways, but I was never lucky enough to catch them in the act."

"It was, um, violent."

"As expected. What exactly transpired, though? Both of you left before I had the chance to ask about the battle strategy."

"Yeah..."

August glanced between the excited teen and the exhausted shipbuilder. Taking pity on Omar, she told Cyryl, "Not now, kid. It's been a long day. Let him rest."

Cyryl backed away and scanned Omar head to toe. Seeing his tense form and downward gaze, realization flashed in zir eyes. Zie snapped zir fingers and said, "Oh, I have an idea. How about we practice those meditation techniques from those books I found? The ones written by Hakim Nanabi?"

"Hakim Nawabi," Omar corrected. He rolled his shoulders, winced, and nodded. "Yeah, that sounds nice. Let's do it."

August stepped aside as they headed to the deck for their stretches. Her gaze lingered on Omar's King's Gauntlet, not looking away until he turned the corner. She would've never pictured Omar, the man who'd feared magicians so much he asked a stranger to protect him against them, to wield an Electric-weapon. Then again, never in a thousand years would she imagine him to tell his Pokémon to deal a killing blow.

A deep frown twisted her features as she watched Kaso scuttle after the two. This event bothered her more than she'd care to admit. Even if she hated Martim, she held no ill will towards his Greninja. His Pokémon was only doing what he was told. Martim should've known better. It was his fault his Pokémon sacrificed his life for the dastard's self-pleasure.

Images of the Greninja's fungus-infested body flashed through her mind. She balled her fists. It was mostly Martim's fault. But if she'd told Omar to change his plan... No. What was done was done. There was no use in lingering in the past.

August sought company and found both Lang and Gracie in the dining area. Her Shaymin spared her a glance as she ate from her bowl, yet she said nothing. August's heart panged. She had to make it up to her.

Lang mentioned as she chopped vegetables, "I heard Cyryl's voice from all the way down here saying that you won the brawl."

"Aye." August pulled a stool beside Lang and began peeling the potatoes she was working on. "It was ugly. Omar's upset; don't bug him about it. Not yet, anyway. He'll need your help sleeping through his nightmares." August and Cyryl had already abused Lang's Spore ability; flashbacks of Angeleyes' attack haunted their dreams.

"You were there, too. Will you need help?"

"No. Focus on Omar."

They chopped the stew's vegetables in silence, save for the sound of their knives slicing through produce and Gracie finishing her meal. August used more force than necessary in cutting her potatoes, trying to relax her coiled tension. Lost in her thoughts, her knife slipped. She hissed as her finger's skin severed.

"You shouldn't cut things when you're angry. You're practically begging for an accident," Lang chided, giving August a rag to wrap her finger in. "It's obvious that brawl is tormenting you. You can relieve that stress now, or you can let it store up over time until one day your emotions can't handle it anymore and you have a mental breakdown. It's your choice."

August bound her finger in the cloth and pressed her lips in a thin line. Sighing, she admitted, "I don't like how things are right now. Life used to be predictable, but it ain't anymore."

"Change is the only constant thing in life," the nurse remarked, proceeding to continue fixing the meal.

Golden eyes rolled at the comment. "That doesn't mean I like it. What's shitty is that things are changing because o' my past. The past shouldn't fix my future."

Lang arched an eyebrow. "On the contrary, I believe it should. You have to pay for the consequences of your actions. You can't go through life avoiding the problems you caused—they must be addressed. That's why we're in this dirty port town in the first place."

August tilted her head back to stare at the ceiling. "I know. I know, an' I hate it." She began bouncing her leg. "I found one o' the auction-goers when Omar was brawling. The old hag gave me information about the place fo' a ruby."

"Where did you get a ruby?"

"Stole it." Unfazed by Lang's startled look, she continued, "The auction's tomorrow in an old building. Used to be an old Rare Candies center. It turned into the auction house after a fire burnt it down. They rebuilt it an' made it more secure. There's two"—she held up two good fingers—"doorways. One leads outside, an' the other goes to the slave keep. Both o' them are guarded well."

The hushed quietness fell upon them once again as they processed what she said. August watched the shadows cast by the candlelight dancing on the ceiling. The darkness' wavering motion reminded her of the rippling river water in Verelum. She grimaced.

"It sounds like a tough case to crack. Do you have a plan for how you're going to save your sister?" Lang queried.

August bit her inner cheek. "Aye, I do. No one's going to like it, though."

"And why's that?"

"...it involves Black Powder."