Fight Night

Rex Knygt is already five hundred handstand pushups into his day when the sun shines through the window of his small one-bedroom apartment. The brown skin of the seventeen-year-old heavily muscled body drips with sweat, which has begun to puddle on the floor under him. Upon feeling the sun, he pushes up once more before launching himself back into his feet. He stands at his full 6'3 height and lets his black and blonde braids fall down his back. He walks from his bedroom to the closet-sized bathroom. He removes his boxers and steps into the laser shower. Blue cleansing laser beams play over his scarred body, removing the sweat and any other filth from his skin and hair. Once that is down, a fog descends on him from above, applying a randomly chosen male scent. He steps out and in front of his sink, looking at himself in the mirror. Rex has average looks that drift more toward rough because of the years he has spent fighting, most of the time without the money to get the services of a healing station. His body is covered in scars from the many nights he has spent getting stitched or stitching himself back together, including the one that travels from below his right eye to his nose. He had done well in getting to one when he managed to get a tooth knocked out or when he had gotten internal bleeding. His eyes are a nondescript brown but distinctive because of how cold and focused they always look. Combine that with the face that never smiles and his reputation on the streets of Neon, and people tend to avoid him. It also doesn't help that he doesn't speak mainly because he can't. He was born mute. Rex was abandoned on the streets of Neon when he was seven. He barely remembers his mother and never knew his father. He spent many nights hungry and quickly learned to steal to feed himself. Fighting was never a sport to him. It was how he survived in the back alleys and darker places of the sprawling supercity. He has never had a day of training, but he has always been good at it. Despite taking a lot of damage over the years, he has never lost a fight. With each one, he only got better. Rex has a strange ability. If he sees a fighting style, he is able to mimic it. If he does this while facing the user, the longer the fight lasts, the more he is able to learn and perfect his technique, transforming the style into his own. He is able to catalog the styles, techniques, and strategies of his opponents, adding them to his mental vault where he can then call on them at will able to shift between and combine styles at will. It has gotten to the point where the first five minutes of a fight are his opponent's only chance of victory, and only if they show him something he has never seen before. Along with his mind, he was blessed with an incredible body. He works out regularly, but his body is naturally muscular, and his reflexes are a step above most. It was as if he was born to fight. And honestly, it is his passion. He will never back down from a fight, no matter who the opponent is or how many. The only time he really feels anything is when he is trading hands. When he was eleven, he was caught stealing, arrested, and put in a boy's home. From there, he was put to school. If he thought the streets were bad, he quickly learned they were a cakewalk compared to his new situation. He had to fight every single day in order to not be a victim of his housemates and classmates. So, he fought, he learned, and he won. Eventually, they learned to leave him the f**k alone. When he turned sixteen, he was allowed to fill out paperwork to become an emancipated youth, and the government paid for an apartment in the stipulation that he finish school. He had no problem with that. He hated school mainly because of being constantly surrounded by people, but he is as good at absorbing educational information as he is at learning from fighting. This is his last year. After that, his government assistance continues for a year before he is on his own again. Which is fine. His fists can and have already earned him a lot of creds, be it not legally. Maybe he would change that after he turns eighteen in a few months. He finishes his hygiene, gets dressed, makes himself a turkey protein sandwich, and heads out the door for school. He has both headphones in with music blasting as he moves through the walkways of his apartment tower. Hundreds of people live on each floor, which also has shops, parks and restaurants. Entire family trees call the place home. As he is waiting at one of the dozens of elevators, his music is interrupted by a phone call. He looks at the screen and sees that it is a call from Ebony. Ebony Savage is one of the promoters for Neon's largest illegal underground fighting circuit, Gladiator X, which has a revenue stream and fan base as large as many of the corporate-owned, legal fight circuits. Ebony saw one of Rex's fights when he was fifteen and recruited him immediately. All the fighters in Gladiator X wear masks to protect their identities because the fights are live-streamed over the circuit's pirate website, GX.Net. Rex fights under the ring name Apex and is the current light-heavyweight champion with a 29-0 record. He is the second most popular fighter, being the heavyweight champ, Nior, who holds a record of 45-0. He answers the call, and Ebony's face appears on the screen. She is a black woman in her forties with hot pink hair cut into a mohawk. Both of her eyes are cybernetics, and the irises glow pink. And always wears dark makeup. "Good morning, Rex," says the promoter with a smile, "How are you doing?" Rex signs into the phone's camera, "I am okay, heading to school. What's up?" He knows that the phone's software will translate the hand gestures into words for Ebony, or it would if she had selected that option when she called. She has become quite skilled at understanding sign language since recruiting him, deciding to physically learn it herself instead of just getting a software package for her eyes. Someone once told him that she liked getting close to her fighters and that her learning sign language was her attempt to do that with him. He doesn't really let people get close, but her effort is appreciated. "I am doing well too," says Ebony light-heartedly, "Thank you for asking. We have got to work on your pleasantries, Rex." Rex gives her the smallest of a smile. There and gone so fast it might as well have been an afterthought. He steps into the elevator, looking to see that one is already selected on the seventy -five bottom panel. He moves to the back and leans against the wall. Neon News plays at low volume on the video screen above their heads. It is mainly covering the upcoming Fight Night, which starts next week. The secret selection process is believed to begin soon, but everyone knows that no one will know who was selected until they are announced on the first night of the event. Since he turned seventeen in April and is now legal, Rex is legally an adult and can be selected, but he knows that out of the millions of professional fighters in the world, it is unlikely he will make the thousand-fighter cut for years to come. As Apex, he is an underground phenom, but that doesn't exactly put him at the top of the world ranks. The youngest outside fight to ever take part was twenty-two, and he got crushed on the first day. He will get there one day, though. Fight Night is the goal of any true fighter. For now, climbing the ranks is his goal. He turns his attention back to Ebony, finding her studying him. He is used to her doing that. She often quietly watches him before and after matches. "So, are you just calling to check on me," he signs, "Or was there something else?" "Ugh, yes, Rex, there is something else," says Ebony, looking slightly annoyed but leaning into the camera with a wide smile. "I have just gotten confirmation of your opponent in tonight's event card. He is not shocked to learn that he is on the event card tonight. Gladiator X fighters get told about their matches the day of. There is one fight night a month and usually a ten fight match card. They limit the fight night to one a month and alter the days to stay ahead of the authorities, but Ebony once told him that they don't worry about them as much anymore since they started greasing the right palms. As long as no one dies on a live stream and the money keeps floating in the right direction, they are safe. The real reason for the one night a month is they don't want to step on the toes of the major circuits who don't like being upstaged and have the money and sway to cause GX serious problems. It is a balance that the promoters work hard to keep. "Who is next," signs Rex. "Oh, you are going to leave this," says Ebony, excitement practically radiating off her, "It is definitely going to be the fight of the year, Apex vs Nior. Superfight. Winner takes all. Yes! Going into Fight Night weekend, too. Yes! Oh, we are going to clean up. We are expecting no less than twenty million views worldwide in this. The advertising campaign starts in ten minutes on this. But our VIP arena tickets have already sold out. It is going to be a full house tonight. s**t, I can't believe it is finally happening." She is up and pacing now, the excitement having completely bubbled over. He can see that she is in her office downtown. Ebony runs a legit agency that manages legit fighters as her day job, but GX is her passion. She really runs the agency as a front to explain and wash her income. She finally sits down and looks back at him, her face losing some of its excitement as she sees that his face has not changed at all. She sighs and leans back in her chair, "Seriously, nothing? Not even a smirk? The purse if you win is three hundred thousand. Still, nothing?" Rex signs, "This is my excited face." "Whatever, you brooding asshole," says Ebony snorting out a laugh, "Be at the arena by nine. I know you hate VIP meet and greets, but our top investor is requesting to meet you, so you are doing one." Rex closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose, letting out a groan. He is generally able to trade on his popularity to get out of meet-and-greets without much effort, but every so often, he has to put one in. Mainly like tonight when an investor is involved. If he is honest, her mentioning it being the top investor piqued his curiosity. "Yeah, I'll be there," signs Rex. "Good, and please do me a favor," says Ebony, "Try to f*****g smile just once. Please. You can take the cost of it out on Nior. I know you are smiling under that mask while you are beating people up. The fact that you love fighting more than money is more than slightly disturbing. Almost as disturbing as the fact you barely spend any of it." Ebony set up a bank account through her company. It is labeled as a business account, and she has him on file as a member of her staff. She deposits all his winnings into it. He has the only gene-coded cred card attached to it and is the only one who can move money out, but she can monitor it. He barely spends five thousand a month from it. Most of that is on food, robocabs, and fight events, either attending or watching on pay-per-view. He also pays to go to a small private gym called Power Cage, where he uses the machinery to workout and where he can also find a sparring partner, either real or using the gym's virtual fight chamber. The best part about the place is the owner, Marlin Ferrell, an ex-fighter, doesn't allow pro scouts in. He also doesn't let photos are videos be taken. It is a place for serious fighters to come and perfect their craft without distractions. Beyond those activities, he might add a few items to his wardrobe, which consists mainly of his school uniform and casual clothes that he can also workout and fight in. Or a game if it catches his eye. He is a minimalist. "I make no promises," signs Rex, "I will see you tonight." He ends the call and spends the rest of the elevator ride watching the Neon News. They are speculating on who will be welcomed to the City of the Fist this year. They have some big names from around the world on their lists, many of whom Rex has dreamed of trading hands with. Most of their picks are a part of the pro circuits, but everyone knows that the Thousand are taken from everywhere, including the streets, police force, military, and the underground circuits. Those taken from the illegal circuits are always granted immunity when their identity is revealed. Everyone knows the risk. It is a death match, after all, but the glory the winner earns for themselves, their country, and, in many cases, their promotions is more than worth it. Being named the True Undisputed Champion of the World is life-changing in every way. However, there is no guarantee that any of the thousand will win. One of the hundred entries from the Tribes of the Fist has been victorious for the last seven years running. The strangest thing is no one knows much about the tribes or what their lives are like the other three hundred and fifty-eight days of the year. But then again, no one really knows who runs Fight Night. The City of the Fist is located in the United States, where Las Vegas used to be before the war, but the United States government holds no claim to it. The tribes call the majority of it home, and the actual event happens in the ten-mile-wide open-world arena at its center. The rules are pretty simple: survive until the last day, then everyone who is left gathers for the final free-for-all. When the bell rings at sunset, the fighters are free to beat each other to death or incapacitation until the closing bell at sunrise. During that period, only food and water are provided, all of which are streamed worldwide. After the sunrise, no fighting is allowed. The fighters are given shelter and privacy and are allowed to use the healing stations to prep for the next day. As the number of fighters decreases, so does the size of the arena. It draws billions of viewers from around the world, making it the biggest event of every year. As the elevator stops and he steps off into the massive lobby, he falls back into his music as he daydreams about what it would be like to run the gauntlet with eleven hundred of the best in the world. One day, he would find out, but for now, he is content with fighting the best GX, and Neon has to offer. As long as he can fight, he is never bored.