The days that followed blurred together in a relentless rush, faster than Law would have preferred. Time seemed to warp, the hours spent honing his skills and contemplating his next move stretched endlessly in his mind, yet in reality, they slipped by like fleeting shadows. Now, on the day of his fight, an electrifying surge of adrenaline coursed through him, tightening his muscles and sharpening his focus.
He awoke with a pounding heart, already, the rush of battle in his veins.
He moved swiftly through is home to the dim, makeshift training room, where the battered punching bag hung in tatters, its once-solid form now a ragged remnant of its former self, and B-bot, the humanoid sparring partner, looked worse for wear. Its metallic sheen was dulled and stained with rust, blood-red patches spreading across its surface like scars of countless battles fought.
Law started slowly, his movements deliberate and precise, as he mentally rehearsed the drills he and Riko had drilled into him. He threw measured, deliberate jabs, hooks, overhands, and uppercuts into the battered bag, each strike calculated and controlled. As he repeated the motions, he gradually increased his pace, blood pounding in his ears. Sweat beaded on his brow, then traced down his face as he pushed himself harder, until his muscles would've ached and his breath came in ragged gasps.
When his training session drew to a close, Law turned toward B-bot. The towering, humanoid robot was a formidable sparring partner, standing about 6'2" (188 cm) with long, metallic limbs and a padded mesh-and-metal head that looked like a battered helmet. Surrounding its robust frame were thick, crimson pads that covered vital points, targets most fighters aimed for. It lacked legs, instead balanced on a spherical, ball like base akin to a pen's tip, which kept it upright and mobile.
Law, only about 5'11", was tall for his age, but the bot towered over him by three inches and boasted a longer reach. He approached cautiously, flipping a switch to activate it. The robot's head and hands lifted in response, and twin blue dots of light ignited where its eyes would be, an ominous glow in the dim room. It moved forward with slow, deliberate 'steps', every movement precise and unnervingly steady.
"Boxing mode, five minutes," Law commanded, voice steady but laced with anticipation. At his words, the rusty metal of the bot's frame responded, and it raised its arms, ready to spar. The blue eyes flickered as it focused on him.
The robot's approach was slow but relentless. Law watched it carefully, waiting for the first move. Without warning, the bot launched a lightning fast jab. Law ducked instinctively, then countered with a sharp punch into one of the padded targets on its side. The contact registered as a potent blow, speed and power calculated and recorded. The bot paused briefly, then resumed, increasing its tempo as if eager to test his limits.
Back and forth, they exchanged blows in a relentless rhythm, Law's strikes growing faster and sharper, until sweat dripped freely down his face. The room echoed with the dull thud of fists meeting padded targets and the rhythmic hum of the bot's servos.
When the five minutes finally expired, the robot lowered its arms and returned to its designated spot, standing silently as if awaiting the next command. A few more sessions followed, each one pushing Law closer to his breaking point, until finally, Ruby's gentle voice stirred him from his focus.
She awoke slowly, stretching and yawning as her eyes met her brothers. "You're always up so early, would it kill you to sleep in a little?"
"You know I've got a fight today, are you coming to watch? I've been training hard. Maybe I'll even impress you," he teased, a mischievous grin curling his lips.
Ruby rolled her eyes but smirked. "Law, you know I don't want to go, and even if I did, I've got work. You're on your own. And don't forget your promise."
Law's grin widened. "Yeah, yeah. I'll come back with not even a scratch, just watch me."
She teased, "I'm holding you to that~," as she grabbed her jacket and headed for the door.
"Hope you do. Have a good day, sis," Law called after her, a warm feeling settling inside him as she disappeared out of sight.
He returned to his routine, training with the bot until the sun climbed high into the sky, its rays filtering through the grimy windows, casting long shadows across the battered walls. Once satisfied, he gathered his gear and set out, leaving the dim room behind.
Outside, the bleakness of every other day greeted him, gray skies, crumbling buildings, a world that refused to brighten. Still, he pressed onward toward his destination. Approaching ScrapYard, the first thing that caught his eye was the bustling crowd in the plaza, eager to get into the bar.
Law pushed his way through the throng, navigating the sea of faces until he slipped inside the bar. His gaze immediately sought out Adrian, whose broad grin was already plastered across his face, an expression that only appeared on days like this.
He spotted Adrian talking with a familiar figure, Riko. Law strode over and cut into their conversation with a smirk. "Well, well, look at you two lovebirds. I didn't realize you were so popular, Riko."
Adrian let out a hearty laugh, recognizing Law's voice instantly. He turned with a wide grin. "Him? Looks like you're the real star today, brother. This one hasn't been around in years, and now I hear he's training you? Small world, huh?"
Riko offered an awkward smile. "It's not every day you find someone like this kid. He's about to make me some serious cash, too," he added with a chuckle.
Law pulled out 200 credits and handed them to Riko. "Correction, I'm about to win US some serious money."
Adrian leaned in, voice dropping to a hushed whisper. "Listen, I'm really not supposed to let fighters bet, but I like you, kid. Just this once." He paused, then added with a sly grin, "Remember: 1,000 if you lose, 2,000 if you win, and an extra 500 if it ends in a KO. Got it?"
"Yeah, yeah, old man. Rules never change," Law said, leaning casually on the bar. He shot a glance at Riko. "Alright, let's get going, I don't want to be late."
They made their way down the graffiti-scarred corridor, emerging into the chaos of the stage area. The stands were packed with hundreds of eager spectators, and a long line snaked toward the betting stations. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, alcohol, and anticipation.
"Alright, I'm heading this way," Riko said, gesturing toward the betting booths.
Law watched Riko disappear into the mass of people and then approached the fighters' area behind the stands, a cramped and cluttered space that buzzed with raw energy. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and grease. Rows of lockers lined the walls, each one battered and graffiti covered, bearing the scars of countless battles. Posters of past fighters, some faded and torn, adorned the walls, images frozen in time, frozen in glory and defeat.
Among the fighters, a few stood out. There was a hulking figure with heavily muscled arms and a jagged scar running from his eyebrow down to his cheek, a veteran known as "The Butcher." His reputation was built on brutal, relentless strikes, and he exuded a menacing aura, eyes hard and cold as steel.
Across the room, a lithe, wiry fighter named "Ghost" leaned against a locker, his face obscured behind a mask of bandages. His movements were fluid and unpredictable, like a shadow slipping through the night. Rumor had it that his agility and quick strikes made him a nightmare to predict, and he was known for slipping out of tight spots with uncanny ease.
Near the center, a young fighter with bright, fiery hair and an intense glare was shadow boxing in the corner. They called her "Blaze," and her fiery spirit was matched only by her aggressive style. Every punch she threw was a declaration of war, her energy palpable even in the cramped space.
Law's eyes then settled on the fight card posted on a central sheet. It listed the matches in order, with the fighters' names and their rankings. Tonight's card was stacked with a mix of seasoned veterans and rising stars, all eager to carve their names into the fight scene.
The main event was a chaotic, three way free for all, promising to be a spectacle of chaos and skill. Law's own fight was scheduled right before it, an intense match against Ray Von Danger, a notorious fighter known for his reckless power and unpredictable tactics.
His gaze lingered on the list, then shifted back to the fighters around him. The tension was thick, every man and woman here ready to clash, blood and sweat their currency. In this brutal world, only the strongest survived, and tonight, Law was determined to prove himself among them.