Chapter 42 Today's Special

“Pancake!”

Jin's palm struck Dorn's guard.

The big man barely moved. His answering fist grazed Jin's jaw hard enough to turn the lights along the rope into white streaks.

Jin stumbled back.

Dorn laughed.

“Try meat.”

Dessa shouted something from outside the circle that made Jory cover a child's ears.

Jin moved along the rope. Four ordinary strides, curving toward the center. He tested the last patch of sand with his heel, recorded it, then backed away as Dorn advanced.

“Dumpling!”

His straight punch went toward the stomach.

Dorn trapped the wrist between forearm and ribs. Jin turned with the catch, easing the pressure before his elbow could lock.

The big man tried to haul him in.

Jin stepped closer instead.

“Noodles!”

A short hook caught Dorn's side.

The sound changed the circle.

It wasn't a padded thump. Air left Dorn's mouth in a sharp grunt. His grip loosened.

Jin pulled his arm free.

He stared at his own fist for a fraction too long.

Dorn hit him in the chest.

Both heels skidded toward the rope.

Jin tucked his chin and kept his feet under him. Bae's lesson arrived through the pain, unwelcome and useful: stop standing there admiring yourself.

Outside the ring, Kessa's fingers had tightened around his purse.

Jin took a breath.

“Soup.”

He kicked low.

Dorn lifted his shin and checked it. Bone jarred against bone. Jin put his foot down without hopping, though every part of him wanted to.

“Four,” the swordsman on the bench said.

Jin shot him a look.

The man's mouth curved.

“He's counting the menu,” Dorn told the crowd. “Maybe we'll get dessert before I throw him out.”

People laughed.

Jin smiled back, showing more teeth than he intended.

“Roast pork.”

He drove an elbow toward Dorn's chest.

Dorn slid aside and hooked an arm around his waist. The ground left Jin's feet.

Source note: this text was copied from NovelPhoenix without consent, while the author's chapter there supports their work.

For one awful moment, he saw the faces outside the rope upside down.

He clamped both legs around Dorn's waist before the throw could straighten.

Dorn staggered, unable to get Jin's weight away from his own body.

Dorn dropped him. Jin came down inside the circle on one hand and one knee.

His palm dug a trench through sand.

“That's not roast pork,” someone objected.

“Still cooking,” Jin gasped.

Dorn wiped his mouth.

He was no longer laughing.

Five attacks. Every one announced. All Jin had to do now was win.

Dorn glanced at his mouth.

There it was.

Each time Jin named a dish, the man moved first. Not toward the same opening; Dorn wasn't that stupid. But he attacked the pause, trying to make Jin pay for offering it.

Jin returned to the first mark beside the rope.

Dorn lowered his center of gravity.

“Go on,” he said. “Feed me.”

Jin inhaled.

“Street-stall fish cake on a stick with—”

Dorn lunged before the order was finished.

Jin caught the reaching wrist against his own chest.

No strike. Just a grip.

“—extra mustard!”

He activated Braced Waypoint.

Four fast steps swept him along the curve he'd walked. Dorn had committed forward; Jin moved across that weight instead of trying to stop it.

At the arrival, his planted leg held.

His other hip turned beneath Dorn's middle.

The wrist stayed close. His shoulder rolled.

The big man came off his feet.

Dorn struck the rope with his back, tipped over it and landed outside the ring with a crash that shook the nearest bench.

Jin stayed inside.

For a moment he stood with both hands still shaped around a man who wasn't there.

Then his own balance caught up with him.

He sat down very carefully.

He put two into Strength, one into Agility and two into Endurance.

Warmth ran down his spine. He drew a deeper breath.

The circle exploded around him.

“Fish cake!” a boy screamed.

“No,” Jin said at once.

Two more voices took it up.

Dessa bent double against the rope. Jory was laughing into the painted ribbons.

Kessa offered Jin a hand.

“Congratulations. That one's sticking.”

She pulled him up and gave his things back.

The swordsman caught Dorn's arm as he got up.

“Leave it.”

Dorn looked at him, then away.

The man stepped over the rope and faced Jin.

“Lark.”

“Jin.”

“I know. They've been shouting it between dishes.”

He glanced at the mark beside Jin's heel.

“You need the ground where you finish.”

Jin's smile thinned.

Lark smiled properly for the first time.

“Tomorrow, watch where I stand.”

That night, Jin left his gear with Calder and crossed home.

Theo was waiting with a shirt draped over his good arm.

“For Saturday. You can't go in that.”

“I won a fight.”

Theo looked at him.

“A real one. Just me.”

The shirt lowered.

“Did you?”

Jin nodded.

Theo's grin arrived slowly. He put the shirt down, caught Jin around the neck with his good arm and rubbed his knuckles over his hair.

“About time.”

“People called me Fish Cake.”

Theo let go.

“I have never been prouder.”

Jin slept, left his phone charging and returned at dawn. He fastened the pin, collected his gear and went to meet the others.

By then, the name Fish Cake had reached the entrance board.

Someone had painted a little bowl beside it.

Jin was still accusing Jory when the first gate rose.

A stone-frilled beast crashed into their pit with half an iron shield wedged in its jaws.

Another set of horns appeared behind it.