Condition Evolution 3: A LitRPG / Gamelit Adventure by Kevin Sinclair (ereader with dictionary .txt) 📕

put in a good showing. If it turns out you’re the better fighter, then I’ll ask you not to put a beating on him. He's going into this fight with the spirit of cooperation. Is that okay with you?”

“Absolutely!” I exclaimed. Immediately afterwards, I realized I sounded like a right wet lettuce. “I can handle myself, but I don’t know your Torax capabilities. I really want to get off on the right foot with your people and not be kicked to shit. Or wallop your guy all over the shop,” I added, hopefully explaining that I wasn’t scared.

He nodded, seemingly satisfied with my response.

“I’ll leave you now and take my seat. Wait for the gong, next head through that door. It won’t be too long a wait.” Then, he left.

I sat down on one of the stone benches that lined the wall, and waited in anticipation. I sat there for what seemed like an eternity, but it was probably only five minutes. My nerves were frayed to shreds. Even though I had learned the fight would be a fix, even after everything I’d been through.

A noise sounded, but I didn’t know if it was a gong or not. I didn’t even know what a damn gong was supposed to sound like. I sat there in uncertainty for a minute, wondering what to do. Finally, I got up and crept over to the door and peered through. There was a tunnel leading to a bright, sandy area. I'll be honest, I didn't want to go out there in front of all those people, or leave the relative cool of the changing room.

I could just make out a Torax, standing on a sandy surface, staring down the tunnel back at me, and thought fuck it! Let's get this show on over with. I strode purposefully out of the room and down the tunnel with all the confidence I could muster. The Torax I was about to fight, stood like a statue watching me. I noticed he was a few inches taller than me when I finally made it to the center of the arena. And he was stacked with athletic corded muscles.

“You are not what I expected from a Fystr. You are a runt. It seems I may not be leaving this planet as I hoped.”

I was taken aback by his stinking attitude, but perhaps this trash-talk should be expected. So I went along with it, “I’m not a fucking runt. I'm a six-foot-four man!” I replied, then realized that was not a trash-talk reply, and I just sounded like a whiny dick.

“Oh, wow. Congratulations! Are you really a Captain? Or was he too scared to face me and sent a pathetic little proxy?”

“Don't be too much of a dick dude, or I'll have you scrubbing toilets on the Uprising for the entire time you’re serving under me.”

He raised an eyebrow at me, and a very vague smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, “So, there is a spine in there. Good, I will enjoy breaking it over my knee.”

“Big words. I’ll remember them, when I’m squirting out the undigested remnants of a chicken vindaloo in my private toilet,”

He looked at me with complete confusion.

“It's a spicy Earth food that makes your craps extra soft and stinky. You'll know what I mean when you're scrubbing away with a kids toothbrush and…”

I was disturbed from my verbal diarrhea by an uproar from the crowd.

I looked around to find out the cause of the commotion. Another Torax had come onto the sand and was striding over. This fucker was closer to seven-foot. As he approached, his voice boomed out, deep and commanding.

“Calparr. I also wish to serve this captain. Since I am the undisputed champion of Torax, I challenge this weakling instead. Now, leave us. The results of our battles are known.”

The Torax, known as Calparr, turned back to me and said, “I am sorry, friend. I would have taken it easy if it was necessary and I would truly have liked to come with you, but Maukarr here is the best warrior in our land. His ruthlessness is well known. I cannot dispute his claim to fight, though I doubt his motives are true.”

“Quiet whelp and be gone. You are not worthy to stand here,” Maukarr snarled.

Calparr had one last thing to say to me before he went, “He is Dolegg’s man. He is here to kill you.” With that said, he walked away, leaving me to the mercies of this monster.

There was further uproar from the stands. I looked over to see that Calegg, Moulagg and Koparr were all shouting at another group Torax, mainly elderly and seemingly in positions of power to my eyes. They included in their number an extremely smug looking Dolegg. I caught sight of Ember, who was visibly overheating, but who remained as cool as a cucumber. She smiled her beautiful smile, and I felt confidence surge in me once more.

I felt a calm descend. I felt better and more focused. I had come out to face someone who was intending to throw the fight. I didn’t dwell on why that would be, or why it had made me more nervous than I felt now. I turned to face my new opponent. Of course I could beat this guy. I didn't always need Havok, did I? I'd beaten Rodger with one blow, I'd beaten the Gro-bar in Ipsis with one blow, and I snapped that other guy's neck with a little jerk of my arm. I was strong as hell, and I fucking had this.

We stood waiting for the commotion to die down and get a decision on whether the contest should be allowed to go on, when I thought,‘Fuck this. Let's get on with it.’ After all, it didn't really matter who I fought. We were here for a reason. “Hey! You big, ugly bastard. Let's fucking dance.” I raised my guard.

His face stretched into a feral grin. Without hesitation he came at me with