Bruce_Sentar
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DD 302 Ch 15
🕑 Added 2025-11-11 11:05:56 +0000 UTC“No, I don't think that's necessary,” I began to say, only for all of the elites in the room to start looking down their noses at us. I paused and turned to Des. “You don't have to do this.” I got in before they started applying pressure.
“Really, Ken? Because I think I do.” Des rolled up the sleeves on her dress. “All right, you want to patch them up and throw them in the ring, or you want to give me a fresh one?” she shouted at the organizer.
He chuckled before waving over number three, the big gorilla of a man. The fighter looked like he'd been pulled off the farm with how tan he was and the bit of pale farmer's tan peeking out from the cuff of his shirt. Otherwise, he could have been pulled from here in New York.
“I hope you don't mind, you said you could take both of them, so certainly you could handle number three on your own.” The organizer made a plausible excuse to bring his biggest man to bear.
Des glanced him up and down before she snorted. “I've seen bigger. You're not very impressive, if I'm honest.”
Her words caused a gasp and a round of “oohs” from the partygoers. Number three was easily twice her size, but I knew that didn’t matter much. I was more worried about what she’d do if he got blood on her new dress.
“Well, I suppose the gauntlet has been thrown. Tell me, Des, do you have someone here that can revive you?” the organizer asked.
Des shook her head before motioning for number three to come out here. “Let's just get this over with.”
Number three took it as a challenge, darting forward and slamming a big meaty fist for Des, and I winced. But the gesture was not for her. It was for him.
Des caught his fist, rolling on her heel to pull it past her before she used her forearm and dragged it across his until it caught on his elbow. Then she pulled with all her strength.
Des was a demon, and I spotted a little bit of her metamorphosis skill peeking through when her skin color turned blush for just a second. But no one else paid any attention to the momentary change as number three’s arm nearly snapped in half. Des then spun back around and slammed a palm into his chest, sending him careening past the other fighters and right through the doors to the kitchen that flapped aside for his passage.
Des buffed her nails and smiled at the stunned expressions. “See? The bigger they are, the harder they fall.”
I laughed, playing my part, taking away attention. “See everyone? It’s a horrible idea to bet against her.” I turned to Des. “At least you finished that easily enough that you didn’t ruin your dress.” I added the last to get a reaction from the crowd.
Though there was some cheering from the crowd, I heard more than one suggest that Des fight with the others. I shook my head and turned to Gary and Peter as if to say ‘fix this’, because I wasn’t going to have Des join the Bloodsport entertainment.
“As guests, the guests of the night, Ken and his party should be allowed to enjoy the festivities and not get too caught up in combat. After all, they're here to take a break from fighting in the dungeon,” Gary stepped forward and tried to relieve Des of any more fighting.
The man leading the bloodsports rubbed his chin. “Fine. But I think, since Ken Nagato is the man of the hour, how about he prove himself?” He curled his mustache. “How about he fight the winner of my numbers? Eh? What do you think, Ken?”
“Sounds like a wonderful idea,” I said. “Though, should something happen to me, I assume you have someone on hand to revive me?” I asked to probe what he’d say. Charlotte was with me to revive, but I wanted to understand the Threadspawns’ plans.
“Of course. At every celebration we do offer some of the people to get their hands dirty, as it were, and we’d be remiss if any of them walked away permanently harmed. We have healers in the back and we can discreetly put you back together.” He answered.
I smiled at that, a sudden thought occurring to me. If they had put someone ‘back together’ on any of their previous shows, especially if they did it out of sight, I would bet that person walked away with a worm inside of them.
Gary looked back and forth between me and the man, hoping that we'd come to a conclusion.
“Sounds perfect to me. Why don't we continue on with the show, then?” I said and promised myself I’d just break them in half and use it as an excuse to go into the backroom with them.
Apparently my agreement was enough to get them to leave Des alone, and me for now, though there was the promise of me joining in the fight hanging over my head. But that would be a problem for later.
Moving on, I tried to join other conversations, which then only made Bellaire take pity on me and show me around.
I stepped into one such conversation, smiling as they talked about yachting. I thought I might have finally found a conversation I could more actively join. I’d been on a boat to train with Grandma Yui. It involved some light waterboarding, but otherwise was a fun excursion.
But as they went on, I learned that ‘yachting’ in this circle was not the act of sailing or riding on a boat, it was the act of buying excessively large boats. They did so often for sport. Being used as a verb that they all seemed to accept readily as a viable hobby made me realize I was more than a little outside of my depth.
Or perhaps I was the only one still grounded in reality.
As an adventurer, I was earning more money than most, but I was certainly not turning buying yachts into a hobby. That was a whole different level.
While I tried to mingle, the fights moved quickly. The fighters, one after the other, were slaughtered, the winner barely patched up and put back in the ring, which, of course, the rich socialites ate up with reckless abandon, cheering for their horse in the race.
I watched a few parts of the fights; it was evident that number five was going to crush the competition. He let number two give him a few tough licks, enough to put on a convincing show, before he simply wiped the floor with the other.
“Looks like you had a good eye,” Gary slid up next to me as if we were newly minted best friends. “You can take him, right?” He asked as the fighting wound down and number five was healed up after his victory.
“Of course I can.” I said with absolute confidence. “Why, you think he's a ringer?”
“No, no, no. I just put a lot of money on you, so I need you to kick his ass.” Gary wrung his hands. The man was certainly well off, yet he had put enough on me to make himself nervous. I was almost touched.
I squinted at Gary. “How much did you put on this?”
“Enough,” he stuttered. “Not that you didn't already have great odds, but there are definitely people who wouldn't mind betting on an upset.”
“Oh, I'm sure. Go ahead and tell Bellaire to put any earnings I’ve had tonight down on myself.” I said, watching the group carefully as I took my position, not even bothering to put on any of my gear. This is going to be a simple fight.
I paid some attention to number five's moves, and while he was a cut above the other fighters here, he wasn't good enough for me to be worried for myself.
Bellaire was quickly moving to the bookie, who had a sour expression. She must have cleaned house so far in the fights for him to frown as another bet was placed.
“Kick his ass!” Des shouted at the top of her lungs, and I chuckled as people threw their own comments in behind me. Regardless of what they said, it didn't change the outcome.
“In this corner, the champion of the fights today!” The man leading the fights started giving a rousing speech, but I ignored it, instead staring into number five's eyes, wondering if the man who actually was behind them was aware of what was happening. It was a travesty, but any sympathy I felt for the infested host quickly disappeared as I squared up and mentally prepared for a fight.
Whether it was a spar with Crimson, a fight in the dungeon, or a quick show match like this, I had taught myself how to focus entirely, tuning out anything that did not have to do with winning the fight in front of me.
It seemed the announcer's bluster had faded as I wasn't giving him the satisfaction of any reaction. And then he announced the start. “Fight!”
Number five stepped in cautiously with a shallow jab that I didn't even bother countering directly. Instead I simply sidestepped the hit and watched his hips to know where his fist would be next.
I didn't have to wait long for him to activate an ability where he managed to close the distance between the two of us in the blink of an eye.
Number Five’s eyes were dead behind the oversized glasses. I watched as he tried to surprise me and get in a good blow.
I caught his fist smoothly, redirecting his force downwards, and using that same leverage to snap my knee up, slamming him in the chest hard enough that he launched a solid five feet in the air.
Even though the fight was going strongly in my direction, I didn't get cocky. There was nothing to gain by underestimating my opponent. So I sidestepped and kicked high, using the heel of my foot to smash into his hip and send him tumbling out of my way.
The man brought his momentum in check as he curled into a ball and expanded just in time to land far more gracefully than I had anticipated, only to throw himself forward, activating two more abilities as he came at me even faster than he did the first time. He barely even reacted to what should have been a fair amount of pain.
I scowled and still didn't use an ability of my own, matching his speed with my raw agility and countering any of his skills with combat expertise while diverting his attacks away from myself with ease.
Number Five picked up the pace with nearly a dozen abilities, as he threw everything he had at me.
I blocked and struck back with all the power and grace I could summon from the Nagato clan techniques, not using a single ability besides my passives that churned quietly in the background. A few small purple arcs jumped up my arm as [Liminal Speed] built up a few stacks, only making it easier for me to dodge and send him flying.
Though to his credit, he got back up every time I knocked him down, wiping the blood off his lips and charging me again. I was fairly certain his worm was cheating and healing him because I had broken his ankle twice.
The crowd cheered, and the man closed in on me, speaking under his breath.
“Come on,” he muttered to me. “At least put up a good show. You look bored.”
“I am bored.” I blocked his attack, twisted, and swept his legs out from under him, though I didn't let him land softly on his rear. Instead I snapped another kick, taking him in the hip again and sending him spinning, only to smack into the floor.
Apparently that move upset him, because he activated three abilities in quick succession. He used them to attempt to catch me unaware.
I could only judgmentally click my tongue, sidestepping each of the attempts in turn. Then I struck him firmly in the gut and bent him over for an uppercut to crunch into his face.
He growled and swung back at me.
I caught his arm, twisted it at such a painful angle it wasn't a surprise when it snapped. The crowd went absolutely wild, begging for blood as Number Five glared up at me through his bespeckled eyes, though there was no real hate in them. Sure, he was trying to glare angrily, but something about the look was fundamentally wrong. Perhaps it was the absolute lack of fear, because the worm was safe and knew it would revive its host.
I suppressed a shiver, once again realizing how alien these beings were, though perhaps I only noticed it because I knew the truth. That was not just possible, but fairly probable as well.
“Kill him!” the crowd shouted.
As I stood over the man, his arm broken, his hip clearly done, struggling to get back to his feet for another round, I snapped a hard kick to the side of his head, one that sent him sprawling, albeit without the blood that the crowd was begging for.
Gary was beside me a second later, cheering and holding onto me. “You were incredible. He didn't even stand a chance.”
I figured Gary was actually more excited about how much money he'd just won.
“I kind of felt like poor sportsmanship, if I'm honest, Gary.” I said.
“Bah,” he waved his hand. “Sportsmanship has been dead for ages. The strong win and the weak lose. It's really that simple.”
I resisted pointing out that in this situation he was once again finding himself on the weak side. If that was his philosophy, he really should dive the dungeon and grow stronger. Then again, I guess the rules didn't apply to this group.
The announcer didn't seem too disturbed that his man lost. “Alright, everyone, thank you. It seems Bloodsport's been completely tapped out.” He crossed his legs in a bow, which surprised me since he had trouble moving normally when he arrived. “Ken, if you would help me carry this one into the back?” He asked, and if I hadn't been so wary, I probably wouldn't have noticed the gleam of excitement in his eyes.
“It's the least I can do,” I said. “Penny, give me a hand?”
If he was going to invite us back like this, then I wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.
I motioned for him to lead the way. He began walking back as I snagged the bespeckled man's leg and ankle and began to drag him. Penny took the other leg, and we dragged him back towards the room together, smearing a long streak of blood along the floor.
Comments
Cody
They can leave the dungeon, Bun Bun is a tamed dungeon monster
Jamie R
Wow, so it turns out I was a couple of chapters behind! Just finished catching up, and dang, the Threadspawn have a whole underground "recruitment" plot going on. Trying to infect the influential people and higher ranking Adventurers... But it also proved these parasites are a race and not monsters. As monsters can't leave the dungeon. Can they? Or does their body protect them form that rule?
John
Tune in tomorrow night (or I suppose it’s tonight now) to find out what happens next will the threads infect them all? Will they try and recruit Ken to their cause? Or will they get their asses kicked!?!? Only one way to find out! Sorry my inner announcer voice kicked in and I couldn’t stop myself.
