ABC - Penance

Underground Fighting Ring, Washima Factory District

The door that led from the Arena change rooms to the alley was a solid piece of metal, mounted into a sturdy frame. I channelled power into my right foot and kicked the door off its hinges, sending the buckled rectangle of metal into the change room within.

I strode in after it, my pistol held high in my right hand and bracing it with my left. Minke followed in behind me, one of my kitchen knives in her hands. A bouncer came rushing into the room, still shrugging into his jacket. I shot him twice in the chest, the Suppression Rounds knocking him flat onto his ass.

“Is your bag still here?” I asked Minke and she quickly ran her eyes over the open shelves the fighters left their belongings in.

“Nope” she answered so I kept going forwards, stepping over the wheezing security guy and through the open doorway.

A bullet pinged from the door frame close to my head, so I instinctively ducked and rolled forwards, seeing the Arena host crouching behind a big plastic desk. He had one of those slimline 5mm Caseless Automatics in his hands, the kind you can conceal easily under a jacket or in a purse. When they were used by a skilled shooter the little fuckers could be deadly. In the hands of amateurs they were about as dangerous as a water pistol.

I put a 10mm Suppression Round into the hand holding the gun and he screamed and dropped it, throwing himself under his desk. My eyes swept the room from behind my Chameleon mask, seeing no other employees. A single door led further in, presumably to the fighting ring.

“Watch the doors” I asked Minke and went around the desk to check on the host. He was curled up like a dead cockroach, but he gave a yelp when I prodded him with my boot so he was definitely still alive. I pocketed the pistol he had dropped on the desk, then reached down and hauled him upright.

“What do you want?” he babbled, tears and snot streaming down his face. The guy put on a good show as a Host but he was an absolute pussy outside of the Arena. I had known lots of people like him, men and women both, in my old days fighting in the Arenas. Always happy to let other people shed their blood for the audience, so long as they stayed nice and safe.

I slid my gun under his chin, letting him feel the still warm barrel against his jaw. At this range, a Suppression Round would likely take the top of his skull off. It would definitely hurt like a bitch if nothing else and the Host knew that.

“That girl over there” I breathed with quiet menace, nodding at Minke. “You owe her for the match she fought last night”

“You..,.you… want me to pay her for the match?” he replied, desperately trying to understand.

“Yeah” I agreed, grinding my pistol a little deeper into his flesh. “She says she was promised two hundred Pandas for the fight”

“Sure!” he smiled at me, thinking he had this situation understood. “Ah, I can get her the money right now if you like”

“That would be wonderful” I smiled back behind the mask and pulled my gun away from his neck.

Under my watchful gaze he went to an old wooden cupboard, opening it to reveal a sturdy safe. He hesitated so I leaned over and put the muzzle of my gun against his neck, right over the carotid artery.

“Don’t trigger any alerts or set off any booby traps” I warned him. “I knew one promoter, he had his office mined with gas bombs just for situations like this. Resist the temptation to be a hero and just give us the money we’re owed”

The Host nodded in understanding and opened the safe. Nothing exploded, no EMP surges fried our devices and no obvious alarms went off. At least not within my hearing.

“Good boy” I told him encouragingly.

He fished out a cash box and laid it on the desk. I opened it with my spare hand, the other keeping the pistol hard against his flesh. Inside was a stash of Pandas in various denominations. Even at a glance I reckoned there was close to a couple of thousand in plastic notes.

“What did you do with her personal stuff?” I demanded from the Host.

“Trashed it” he admitted, not bothering to lie about it. “Wasn’t anything of value in there”

I spared a glance at Minke, who nodded in agreement.

“I had nothing but my phone and a spare change of clothes. Nothing I can’t replace”

One handed I took three hundred Pandas in notes and laid them in front of Minke.

“Will that cover everything?” I asked her. She grinned at me and stuffed the notes into her tank top, pushing them inside the bra.

“Yeah, but can I take something else?” she wondered, a hint of pleading in her tone.

“Considering these assholes planned on killing you, I am happy for you to take whatever you want” I responded. I turned the mask towards the Host, still sweating and pale underneath the barrel of my gun. “Are you Okay with that?”

“S..s..sure” he agreed, wide eyes swivelling between the pair of us.

Minke disappeared through the connecting door into the Arena room, so I started humming a random tune while I waited. My prisoner shifted a little, trying to get comfortable, until I ground the muzzle in a bit harder. I am not a fan of torture, yet there are times I am sorely tempted to give it a try.

Minke reappeared, two long knives in sheaths on a belt in her hands. She drew one to show me, the curved blade forged from Bonded Ceramite. The pair of knives were worth thousands of Pandas, far more than she could have ever paid for herself.

Except in a way she had paid for them, risking her life in this shitty Arena.

Minke strapped them around her waist, one sheathed knife at each hip, then beamed happily at me.

“They look good on you” I told her. Then I took the Host’s head in my other hand and slammed it face first into the desk. I heard bone crack as his nose splattered, sending a gush of blood across the cash box.

I let him go and he slumped onto the floor, his flailing hand spilling the cash over the desk and his prone body. All the notes ended up covered in his blood, which I thought was highly appropriate in the circumstances.

We exited the building, leaving the men bloody and broken, but alive. Which should count as a win for everyone, right?