"That was awful," Kate told me as I reached the waiting zone, parked my armoured backside on the bench and lifted my visor.

"I won!" I disagreed.

"Your fight looked like two toddlers wrestling in a sandbox over a toy shovel. And I wouldn't even call it a real fight," she waved off.

"The best fight is the one that never happens!" I declared with forced grandeur, quoting some ancient wisdom fed to me by one of my déjà vu episodes.

"Not at a combat tournament," she replied flatly. "There's still time to back out."

"There's still time to win," I countered.

Kate gave me a disapproving look and handed me a tablet.

"Amira Delgado. Your next opponent."

Amira — that sounded like a middle name Nur had, back when she was still Nur. But the surname hinted at a different culture, and I hadn't seen her face — it was hidden behind a pink helmet. Her name echoed Nur's, and her taste in armour matched Kate's: black and pink.

Like me, and like the previous girl I fought, this was also her first fight. Except Amira had handled it with much more dignity. The fight lasted forty-four seconds. She didn't give her opponent a single chance. He was a Fist cultivator too, by the way.

I watched the video Kate gave me, then played it again.

They'd been assigned a sandy arena with scattered small rocks — no cover, no tricks. Not that they intended to hide. The judge gave the signal, and Amira's opponent went on the offensive. One step forward and a textbook karate-style straight punch, his other arm sweeping back low behind him. A silver-blue projection burst from his leading fist — fired in a straight line. It would've hit Amira square in the chest… if it hadn't been stopped by a micro-shield.

"That's —"

"A formation," Kate confirmed.

That would've been a good time for him to stop and think, but instead he charged in like a tank — step, strike, step, strike, step, strike. Every hit, every projection shattered against that warped shield with the same lack of effect as the first.

Amira calmly made a few graceful, non-threatening movements, almost dance-like, in some bull-shi-do style. She drew her right hand behind her, palm up, then slowly traced a wide arc, bringing it forward again, palm now facing downward.

Above her opponent, a massive transparent palm of golden qi began to form. He was so focused on breaking through her formation, he didn't even notice. He clearly didn't sense Palm Qi — not a trace of awareness that something deadly hovered above him. He just kept charging forward, using the same single technique.

The distance between them closed quickly, and he stepped out of the projected zone of impact — but Amira brought her right palm in closer to her body, and the giant projection in the air drifted with it. It realigned itself directly above him again, and as he took his next step, Amira suddenly brought her palm down.

The projection dropped onto him like a hologram — weightless, silent, almost unreal. It sank all the way to the sand without stirring so much as a grain. And then, as if triggered by something unseen, he toppled like a chopped-down tree.

"Victory to Delgado!" the judge announced at once, and medics rushed onto the platform, quickly loading her opponent onto a stretcher.

"Care to reconsider?" Kate asked, without much hope.

Instead of answering, I replayed the beginning of the fight a few times — just the opening seconds, where the fist projection slammed into Amira.

"What's the distance here?" I asked. "Between that shield and her body."

"Technically, it's not a shield..." Kate began, but I pulled a face and reminded her —

"Time, Kate!"

"About sixty centimetres, I guess," she replied, clearly annoyed.

I grinned.

"So I just have to get closer."

"You think she'll let you?"

"She didn't show any footwork."

"Unlike you! When did you learn Monkey that well? You haven't been going all-out in training, have you?"

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That question smelled like trouble, so I went with the truth.

"Reaction stimulant."

"You used a stimulant in your first fight?"

"It'd have been embarrassing to lose the very first fight!" I replied.

"So you were juiced up and still managed to end up in that ridiculous scuffle? Dear gods!" Kate covered her eyes, making a theatrical show of her shame on my behalf.

"You're just the spirit of encouragement, aren't you?" I snapped.

"You're not ready for serious fights!" she shouted.

"Neither are most of the contestants! That's my chance."

"I'm not worried about most of them. I'm worried about the one pair that could turn you into a meat patty — or have you coughing up blood. Like that girl, for instance."

I smiled again.

"You don't actually think I'm dumb enough to walk right into her ultimate, do you?"

Kate opened her mouth, then shut it again. Admitting I was that dumb would cast serious doubt on her own credibility as a mentor. What had we even been doing for the past month?

"Well... you are good at dodging, I'll give you that. But what's your plan?"

"Not telling!" I said. "That's for doubting your mentee."

We managed to jab each other a few more times before the coordinator called me up for the next match.

This time we got plastic — a completely flat grey surface made of rough, scratched polymer, with three thick, evenly spaced columns closer to the centre. You could hide behind them — but I didn't plan to.

The new judge gave the signal, and I ran.

Two steps, a diagonal Monkey jump to the right, then left, right again, then left...

Amira started her bull-shi-do dance again — right hand swept behind her, palm facing up, then slowly traced a wide arc to return in front of her, palm down.

I wasn't sure whether the giant palm had started forming above us yet, but she had to interrupt the technique. I was too close, and it was obvious I intended to engage in close combat. I figured she'd seen my last match and knew I'd pulled something like this before. Still, she had no weapon I could easily steal — her gauntlets were part of the armour. I couldn't just rip them off…

Although... maybe I could break her fingers. But let's keep that as a backup plan. One more metre and I'd —

I had to dodge a palm projection she threw straight at me. One, two, three...

Hey — this was almost like my Chain Punch!

She wasn't letting me close. Thankfully, Mad Monkey let me circle her at a decent speed and dodge the blows, but I got sloppy and jumped right three times in a row... Discomfort immediately surged up my left leg, reminding me that was a stupid idea. A little more of that and I'd have lost the match to my own idiocy.

I jumped left and took a hit to the shoulder. It felt like someone injected pure alcohol into my veins. Fire raced through my muscles, followed by tremors and nausea. Still, the feeling passed quickly — and I could take it! Her projections didn't hit any harder than mine — so my shield should be able to stop them!

Except I couldn't activate the shield without attacking. I should've started with that. I needed to fire off punches while moving! Chain Punch projections were easier to launch while moving at least roughly in a straight line — not zigzagging.

Hook!

As I dodged left, I fired a right Hook. The projection shattered against her formation, but she flinched, and that gave me the opening to unload a barrage of Chain Punchs at her. The Chain was faster than her technique, and at this range I wasn't missing.

The projections were still smashing against her defensive formation, and she kept retaliating — but the space between us filled with silver and gold flashes. I couldn't see her clearly, she couldn't see me, and the palm projections she threw were bursting apart mid-air, colliding with the constant detonations from my fists.

I didn't even need the shield!

Now I could finally execute my plan! I activated Monkey under my left leg and lunged forward, bringing my right shoulder up as I went.

I slammed into her chest, taking a couple of palm projections to the same shoulder — but I got what I was after. She lost her footing. She fell onto her back, arms splayed, and I instinctively twisted like in training with Cinar and launched a Hook in a high arc.

It shattered uselessly against her formation.

Idiot! The plan!

I jumped onto her chest, activating Monkey. Even before my right foot touched the armour plates, I felt the Fist Qi condensing beneath my sole. I threw my weight down hard, tensing every muscle. The Qi didn't form a projection — it detonated directly, without letting my foot make contact. A split second before that, the shield under my boot flared to life and protected my leg from damage. Her formation hadn't kicked in — too close.

The blast and my flexed muscles sent me airborne easily, adding an extra metre to the jump. This time, it really was too much. I didn't want to bounce too far. Landing, I spun quickly. Amira wasn't badly hurt — her chest armour was thick. I'd have to aim for the stomach.

In this world, or at least here and now, no one had a problem with hitting someone while they were down.

I jumped again. Landed clean, and this time I channelled more Qi — just enough not to worry about injuring myself — and sent the rebound straight up instead of sideways.

Amira bent in half like a rubber doll. The flexible joins in her midsection bent almost too well. That's great for acrobatics in armour — not so great when you're taking hits.

From folded doll she turned into foetal position, but the judge gave no signal to end the fight, so I jumped once more. She was lying on her left side, so this time the hit landed on her liver, and I think I even bent her armour a bit. The flexible plates refused to unbend.

At last, the judge took pity on her and declared:

"Victory to Sullivan!"

Two medics rushed onto the platform and tried to unfold Amira from her curled-up pose, but quickly gave up and loaded her onto the stretcher as she was.

Only when they lifted her did she scream for the first time since the fight had started.

That scream, full of pain, did sour my mood a little. Still, I walked back to the waiting zone a proper victor. I raised my visor again and planted myself beside Kate.

"Well?" I asked. "Was that finally a proper fight, or are you going to nit-pick again?"

"Nit-pick?" she echoed. "You still couldn't break through her defence. You had to knock her down and bounce on her like a damn grasshopper."

"Actually," I said with the smug smile of a winner, "that was the plan. I meant to use Monkey on her from the start."

As I said it, the realisation finally hit me: if I'd mastered the technique properly, I could've done it with my hands! Rene said that Monkey could push off from any surface with any part of the body! But I figured I wouldn't need that until I reached second stage and unlocked Eastern Mad Monkey, which would let me bounce off the air itself.

Time to start laying channels for Monkey in my arms. That'll come in handy.

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