Bloodied Hands

Blood on Your Hands

Easy Quest

Requirement: Must have Completed The Beginner's Guide to Gladiators

Reward: 1,000 zeni

Welcome to hell, new blood. You may be ranked with us as a Gladiator, but you’re the lowest of the low. The hosts would like to see how you fare against your first matches. Luckily for you, your opponents will only be peons. Get out there and show them what you’ve got!

Mello stretched his arms out, his right leg pulled up to his chest, his left spanning from the couch to a table just in front of him. His hair was growing gradually messier rather than longer, and his eyes had an almost wild, primal glaze over them. He'd had six more matches in the last week, and won them all with grand ease. The crowds loved him, and more over, they practically served him. An ant-like Arlian appeared in the doorway to Mello's cabin-like home, a strangely formed...grin, it looked like, on his face. The multi-armed thing bowed, its pincers clacking together as it attempted to form words Mello could understand. He got the impression that the Arlian majority had evolved to have mouths, while slaves and gladiators seemed to linger in the more buggish ways. Or, perhaps, these pincer-mouthed things were a minority on Arlia.

"You, pincer-mouthed thing over there. You'll have to find a translator."

The click-clacking got louder, then it threw either pincer apart, sharp teeth appearing. Mello blinked, then noted that the face was almost angry, but it was hard to tell, as it was basically a giant two-leg walking insect...Finally, with what looked like effort, it forced Earth-speech out. "I'm your next matchhhh...Ifff you know what'ssss good for you, you'll jussst ssssuicide
now..."

Mello raised a brow, then rose to his feet altogether. He stepped up onto the table, careful not to knock over the bowl of chocolate there, then down onto the floor. He continued directly to the ant, pulling back his red jacket sleeve, then yanking his right arm backwards altogether. In an instant, the ant-like Arlia was laying flat on its back, staring up at Mello with what he assumed was shock. Just as it began rising to its feet, Mello shoved it with his foot, pushing it out of the door's reach. He then proceeded to slam the door, locking it and the window next to it before returning to his chair. A moment following, a middle aged Xeno entered, her graying but still somewhat purple hair tied back into a ponytail. She was frail, yet possessed immense knowledge of spiritual being. She paused in the doorway, noting the locked door and window. Her brows furrowed, and she turned to Mello, whom had hired her as a maid shortly after his first- and accidental- match.

"Mello-kun...You have caused a rift in the nature of Ki that is not yourself. Whom did you bring harm to, child?"

Mello blinked a few times, considering whether he should lie. Unlike most objects and beings, this particular Xeno seemed capable of sensing him and reading his thoughts. She'd know if he lied, which would break their trust; and it was that same trust he completely relied on to keep such a loyal servant. So, he spoke as truthfully as his natural demeanor allowed him. "Some ant-looking Arlian tried to come in and threaten me, so I punched it and shoved it outside. It said it was my next match, so I locked up so it couldn't sabotage me. Why's it matter, Haruko?"

Haruko flicked her wrist, and Mello felt alight burning-slap across his face. She'd tended to do that when he forgot to do something she considered important. It was little concern to him whether she felt it necessary to slap him, so long as she kept his home clean...And she did so extremely well, which was, as previously mentioned, why he put up with her strange ways.

"That's Haruko-san or Haruko-sama to you, Mello-kun. That ant-thing as trying to tell you your match is coming up, but his race isn't very good with English. You'll have to face an even stronger opponent now, you know."

Mello shrugged. "All the better. It's been, what, a week since my last fight? I could use a good workout..."

"We're not surviving today, are we?"

"What do you mean? We could potentially take down Bafful..."

"Our lines don't have colors though! That means we die!"

"Damn straight," a grave, raspy voice came in. The giant now standing over them was extremely hairy, and obviously not Arlian; it seemed, more so, that he was some kind of Human, though he seemed to hold aspects of a Xeno, or perhaps even a Saiyan. In his hand was a massive club lined with gold and silver, as were his otherwise iron boots, gloves, and shield. In total, the excess weight of his weapons and uniform was easily over a ton; to make up for this, he wore a simple cotton shirt and pants. His beard was longer, coming down to his waistline, and his scraggly hair fell even further, down to the back of his knees. The monstrous being was easily over six feet tall and extremely muscular. His teeth were broken, yellow and obviously heavily ground from fights and nightmares. He gave a putrid grin before swinging the gold, iron, and silver club at one of the two miniscule Arlians, crushing it entirely, causing green blood to splatter along the heavy, powerful club.

"God! You just killed Macekin! What...What kind of demon are you!?"

"Me?...I guess you can call me Manik." Grinning...Well...Manically. The remaining Arlian backed off slowly, obviously dumbfounded.

"You...We're supposed to be fighting Mello! I thought you looked off, based on the descriptions...Please, spare me! I'll become your faithful servant, O' Great Manik!" Manik continued to grin, though, and crushed the poor being with his silver-and-gold club with such force that it dug three feet into the ground, leaving a gaping six-foot crater behind. Manik proceeded to rest the cub on his shoulder, stomping up out of the crater and to the large, slowly opening doors. He'd spend the next few days resting before facing Mello; in that time, the crowds would focus on animal versus animal, as those fights tended to be the bloodiest. The day leading up to Mello and Manik's fight would dozens of massive battles, in which Mello and Manik would be played up as Kings of separate armies. Then, towards, the end, they'd have the two face each other...And Manik would put an end to this "Mellomania" that was building up in the crowds.

He smiled at that. They'd always called him the King Killer; now Crowds would know him as a merciless Prince killer as well. They already knew a big shot was going to be brought down, after all. And one with only six matches under his belt? Of course, they knew just who it'd be.

From his perch in the Gladiator's Observatory, Mello gulped, having come to a similar conclusion from the whispers surrounding him. He was going to die in just a few days...

Mello paced quietly, unnerved by what he'd seen. Over the last few weeks, he'd murdered Peons, always assuming they were the best that this planet had to offer, aside from the beasts they kept for special events. The strange numbers always indicated his opponents were weaker than him, but that only accounted for Ki usage, it seemed. When he'd gotten a good read on this Manik guy, it revealed that holding that club, walking with the massive golden and silver boots and arm guards, not to mention the iron chain-mail hidden under his horribly made shirt and pants, was only done with pure strength half the time. The other half, however, Manik used pure Ki energy to hold himself up, forcing him to train, constantly. Mello also figured Manik had similarly crafted Golden and Silver armor somewhere, just waiting to be put on and add another ton to his already devastating weight.

The Construct paused before a small fireplace built into his "cabin," over which hung his double barrel. He'd almost completely run out of ammo just after his third fight, and so left it inside to avoid rendering it useless, as Arlia didn't sell ammo, but the Gladiator Shoppe had agreed to order munition from the nearest Planet Trade vessel. Until that arrived, he had nothing but the spear he'd used to kill the massive Beetle during his first match and the cloth-like closing Haruko had woven for him. There was always the Big Bang Cannon, but that would probably just dent Manik's armor; plus, Manik more than likely had shields of Ki doubling his armor's defensive properties. He was certain that King Maoi would spare him a sword and some weak armor, but more than likely Manik had earned his much better, much more impressive outfitting. So, Mello would have to invest in his own, better armor...That would create a slight tilt in the scales, but not by enough to give him a guaranteed win. If his Big Bang Cannon were stronger, he could probably pull it off...Or, if he'd gotten some of the serious strength and agility enhancers Wammy's Branch had to offer. But he hadn't.

Mello returned to pacing for a time, considering all of his possible options. He could try to find a city somewhere, and from there seek out a ship of some kind, but it could take days of flight just to reach a heavily enough populated area. There was probably an old ship somewhere in the vast emptiness of Arlia's wastes, but that would take even longer, and double the time to actually clean and repair the ship. He could go into hiding and wait for Matt to arrive, but that could be years, and he wouldn't have accomplished a thing in terms of recruiting new Mafia members. Finally, the gun wielding construct plopped into his chair, folding his hands over his left knee, which was pressed to his chest, and letting the right leg hang. He rested his chin on his hands, then shut his eyes, replaying some of his past battles. He watched some of the shoot outs he'd had back as a recruit in the Mafia, saw every weakness, calculated every possibility he'd never seen before. He realized that, when he'd accidentally shot and killed the Mafia Head at that time during a duel for the title, he could have easily misfired and murdered himself. He also noted that his gun had been rigged at the time, but hadn't come to the bullet which would have clogged and destroyed the entire gun, ruining his hands and potentially eyes. He'd conserved enough ammunition to avoid that fate.

Eventually, Mello's mind fell into a state that was similar to sleep, allowing the still human parts of him to drift lazily into a peaceful respite. His A.I, however, the intelligence that ran many subtle aspects of his robotic life, heard every word that was said, storing the information for when he awoke.

"I see...you need training and money, Mihael-kun. I can offer you the training, and I can loan you the money. I know of ways to enhance the power of your Ki Wave drastically, but it will take time to make massive improvements. We have but a few weeks to prepare, and just three days before your next match. Luckily, your match with Manik is being saved for the annual Kingdom event, which gives us time...If you defeat the Gladiator in three day's time, we will be given the next month to prepare. In this time, we will journey to the Valley of the Warrior and seek true power in Spiritual Prowess. But for now, you will rest, and come morning I will have polished and refined the spear your received in your first battle. It will become like a new, extendable limb to you within these next three days."

Haruko rose from wherever she stood then, and retreated to her chambers across the Hive's hall.

TWC: 1957