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Evolution; Personal Saga.
Topic Started: May 8 2009, 01:21 AM (448 Views)
Disgraced Bojack
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all for the monay nigga!
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Cimno, Spopovich, Jeice.

Bojack had friends. He had traveled with them, he had fought with them, and most importantly, he actually respected them. Sure, they weren’t much better than he was in way of morals, but they were good people. They even respected Bojack. So what was the problem with them?

They were warriors too.

Warriors that trained, warriors that fought, warriors that wanted to be the strongest in the world. That was Bojack’s goal too. And it was the main reason Bojack couldn’t allow himself to have friends. Screw that. He didn’t need friends, not yet. He needed adversaries, people that pushed him and fought him, making him stronger in the process.

Fuck friends.

He was better off on his own. He had always been on his own. The first memory he had was about himself and his first companion, a shih-tzu that he found laying outside the ship he arrived on Earth in. He was all alone, him and his dog. He cared for the dog before he even learned how to care for himself.

Fuck family.

The only person he needed right now was himself. Himself and that old pervert Roshi. The only reason he needed Roshi was because he was a master of fighting. He had tricks – tricks that no one else knew. Tricks that he was willing to teach Bojack, if only the alien had a pure heart. That was harder said than done. Bojack found it hypocritical. The hermit’s heart was filled with lust, but it wasn’t focused on material things, but girls.

Fuck women.

Bojack didn’t need them either. He wanted them, yes. But did he ever need a woman? Only when his libido began to irritate him and he needed to release stress. Other than that, he figured that they should just keep to the kitchen and bring him food whenever he asked. Or even when he didn’t ask.

Fuck the world.

Bojack had enough of it.
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Don’t wait up on me, Mrs. Rick.” Bojack said. He was talking to the lady whose house he was staying the night at. Now, she was a nice woman and all. A widow, sadly. But Bojack, in the short time he knew here, became fond of her. She didn’t ask any questions when he showed up at her door last night and she refused to take any money when he offered it to her.

Her face was marked by age. Her body was marked by years of hard labor. She was old and the alien knew her time was coming sooner rather than later. He wouldn’t be at her funeral though, that much was sure. He tended to stay away from functions like that.

He left the small three-bedroom house and started to walk down the empty street. It was near midnight, and the city was asleep. All except Bojack and the occasional hobo he passed. He shoved his hands into his pockets, it was chilly out. Even though it was the beginning of May, incessant gusts of wind made the cold-blooded alien even colder.

Hey, you! You’re Bojack, aren’t you?!” A scruffy voice from behind Bojack said.

Bojack stopped in his tracks at the acknowledgement. He turned around and studied the being from which the inquiry came. It was a hobo. Donned in a extra-large jacket that didn’t do any favors to the man’s frame, the man had a pretty solid frame. He wore a Aerosmith t-shirt, and had on camo pants. He wore military boots to complete the outfit.

Yeah, that’s me. I don’t do autographs, guy.” Bojack said, before taking his leave. He had removed his hands from his pockets just in case the guy wanted to challenge him to a fight.

That was Bojack’s problem.

He had become too jumpy nowadays. Maybe it was because of all the dope he had been using. Whatever the case was, it was getting worse. “Oh, okay!” The man rebutted.

Nice guy.
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He continued to walk down the street.

Water fell from the heavens. It didn’t faze Bojack much. It was only water. Bojack liked the rain; it made him fell like he wasn’t alone in the world. In the universe. It was a comforting thing, proof that miracles did exist out there. Maybe one day, when he learned to harness the ki, like Roshi was attempting to teach him, he would fly into a cloud one day. He would learn what the water did up there, and how it got up there. People were pretty damn stupid.

They could figure out how to make a space-ship travel at light speed, but they couldn’t figure out how clouds were formed. Though he knew his intelligence wasn’t on his side, he was going to solve the mystery of the formation of clouds.

Ah damn, his brain started to hurt.

He looked back down at the street, shifting his gaze from the heavens. He was outside of town now. He wasn’t going back. He had nothing to go back to. He was sure the woman wouldn’t wait up for him – she was old, and would probably forget he even existed after a while. He didn’t have any luggage to go and retrieve either – he traveled light. Nothing but him and the open road.

He would just walk. It was good for him. No use buying a car and harming the Earth even further. Ever since his encounter with that kid that spiked his drink and made him trip hard, he started to become something like a tree-hugger. It wasn’t bad either. It began to save him money and time, and even made him develop a sense of respect for himself and others around him. Or rather, the environment.

He was going to enter the tournament in Vahdat he had heard so much about.
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It was an easy walk to Vadhat.

Upon entering the city, he saw that it was full of life, unlike the last town he had been in. People were everywhere, entering one building, exiting it, then entering the next. There didn’t seem to be a shortage of things to do in this town. From his knowledge, he pegged it as the capital of the state.

He walked over to where he presumed the tournament was going to occur. There were two bald guys donned In orange robes who overlooked the registrations. They seemed like good people. Bojack signed up for the heavyweight division, and if he won that, he would be elevated to the superheavyweight division where he would be able to compete for the title of Vadhat’s Strongest Warrior. Bojack didn’t sense any energy levels near his own so he figured this would be a easy workout session so he wouldn’t get rusty.

Though it was still early in the morning, the tournament was ordered to begin at six in the morning, giving Bojack three hours to do whatever he needed to do. That was the thing about aliens – sleep was selective. And he wasn’t planning on selecting it tonight. However, he hadn’t eaten anything in over a few hours, so he made his way over to McDonald’s. He ordered five McChickens, large fries, and a grilled chicken sandwich with a Fanta.

It didn’t cost more than 30 zeni for a meal like that at McDonald’s and to Bojack, that was a good thing. He hated spending money because it was in his genes to be cheap. He had been told by a prophet that he was a space pirate, even though he was sure he had never been in space before in his life.

I’m lovin’ this shit, he thought to himself, taking massive bits of his McChicken’s, often devouring them in just a bite or two.

Life was getting good.
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After he finished eating, he went over to the movie theatre.

He didn’t know what he wanted to watch. He loved horror movies but the only ones playing were like Hannah Montana and some other b-rated movies. Instead of horror, he decided to go with an action movie. It came down to The Fast and Furious and Wolverine. He picked Wolverine, because it was easier for him to relate to Wolverine.

He was seated in the second to last row which was a seat he enjoyed, considering that was an extremely hot human sitting next to him. When the movie got underway, he did the old yawning trick. He pretended to yawn and stretch, while at the same time putting his arm around her. She didn’t mind, either, but instead leaned her head over and rested it on Bojack’s midsection.

Bojack smirked; he was a boss.

After he finished watching the movie, he paid the girl no mind - he had a tournament to go compete in.

Making his way through the gates, he had to stand in a line full of other competitors to see if he was eligible to compete. All they had to do was punch a machine to check how much power they had in their punches. The highest you could get was 300, and the highest he had seen so far was 213.54. Standing in line, he promised himself that he would get over 300.

But the line took forever. His impatience got the best of him. He got out of the line and began to walk towards the front. Some guys tried to stop him, but he just pushed them aside. He took his place in the front of the line, pushing the guy out of the way. The security guard didn’t say anything.

Bojack jabbed the punching machine, and after a few numbers popped up, they stopped at 314 and then began to get all haywired on him.

He smiled.
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After he passed the punching test, he was escorted to the waiting area and began to wait for his match to begin.

He was scheduled to compete against a man named Chevel. Sounded like a bitch to Bojack. He would make short work of him. No more than a minute, Bojack figured. He didn’t want to waste any time, he had a legacy to go and make. This would be just another stepping stone in his life. Sure, it wasn’t the World Tournament – that shit was way too hard. People like Goku and Videl, Hercule’s daughter, were in that tournament and a alien like him didn’t stand too much of a chance.

No, he would stick to the smaller tournament scene, and when he got a big enough reputation behind him, and then just maybe he would enter a bigger tournament. Hopefully intimidation would work in his favor. If not, he would just get the hell out of there if the going got rough. No need to ruin his reputation by getting made someone’s bitch.

Bojack heard his name being called by the announcer and after doing a few pushups, made his way to the ring. It was a traditional layout, and the rules were like they always were. It wasn’t to the death, either. He caught his first glimpse of Chevel. He resembled Spopovich in a way. Big, bald, and ugly. And apparently ‘roided the hell up.

As soon as the match started, Chevel rushed him and tried to put him in a bear-hug. Bojack let it happen. The human’s puny attempt to make Bojack give out was laughable. He pretended to have injury and when the guy got cocky and added even more pressure, Bojack decided enough was enough. He busted out of the hold, and then planted his fight into the guy’s chin.

That sent him flying. Flying out of the ring.

Round one was over. That title was in his sight.
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His next opponent was an alien named Jack. Jack? Bojack thought to himself. That was a horrible name, especially for an alien. Whatever, he can get his too.

Jack was a purple alien, the same tone as the demon Bojack had faced a while back. Sure, that battle was one-sided because that guy was too much of a match for Bojack, but the alien knew he would get stronger and then end up kicking his ass later on.

But the demon wasn’t his concern right now. It was Jack. He had seen Jack’s match from the sidelines and saw that he was one speedy little alien. Sure, Bojack could keep up with him if he wanted to, but he didn’t really feel like playing a game of tag. If it was necessary, Bojack would break the being’s limbs just to prevent him for dodging attacks.

When the match started, Jack immediately tried to run around Bojack. But he underestimated the blue alien. Bojack’s eyes kept track of Jack and as soon as Jack was in punching range, Bojack raised his arm in a ninety degree angle from his body. Jack walked right into the punch, his body being lifted off the ground as he fell down to the ground.

The referee began to count to ten. Bojack stifled a yawn, but he did stretch out for a second while the referee’s count reached ten. It did, however.

He felt sorry for Jack; he knew how it was to be totally unmatched with his opponent. It was a horrible feeling, to give it your all and not win. It was a pitiful attempt from Jack, though. It was his own fault, not Bojack’s. Bojack refused to let himself feel guilty about it. “Motherfucker should’ve kept up.

That was that. Bojack’s next opponent was announced. It was a human named Roran. He looked pretty legit.
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But there were only going to be two fights a day.

There had already been two fights. Bojack had to wait until tomorrow to get a piece of the human they called Roran. If he was anything like the other two warriors he had faced, he knew he had nothing to stress about. But, if this guy was stronger, faster, smarter than the other two, Bojack might actually compete in a decent battle for the entire time he had been there.

But there was something about the guy. He wasn’t big. He was pretty scrawny, about Cimno’s size. His eyes were cruel, and his face had a scar that extended from his forehead to his larynx region. He had obviously been through adversity in his life, and maybe that would be the difference-maker. Maybe, just maybe, this guy would push himself to beat Bojack no matter what it took. It was things like that Bojack worried about.

His opponent’s determination, his opponent’s thoughts, and his opponent’s power – they scared him. He may have been a confident guy, but he could be easily psyched out. Not to say Bojack was a coward, far from it, but he rarely entered a battle full-hearted. He was usually too busy worrying about if he had what it took to beat the guy in front of him, unless he was sure he wouldn’t lose – which was common.

Janemba, the purple demon, was just like that. He was stronger than Bojack, which was apparent. He was faster, more determined, smarter than Bojack. It was probably the only thing in their battle that was in Janemba’s favor, and that was all the demon needed.

But Bojack stopped worrying. There was no point in it. The only thing worrying did was turn your hair white, and Bojack liked his hair the color it was.

He would have to wait until tomorrow to see just how good Roran was. Or if he was good at all and Bojack was just worrying about something much bigger than his battle.
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Bojack made his way to the arena.

He stayed the night at a local motel. When he entered the arena, he made his way to the waiting room. He knew he was about an hour or two early, but he didn’t care. He didn’t have a good night’s sleep, so he hoped he would be able to catch up one way or the other. What he wasn’t expecting, however, was Roran to be there.

Bojack hadn’t even met Roran yet, or even seen him more than twice, but there was something about that guy. Something that scared Bojack.

Bojack took a seat on a metal chair adjacent to a window that showed the ring. It was where the participants could sit if they wanted to see the action. Bojack closed his eyes to get some shut-eye, but quickly opened them when he realized someone sat down next to him – Roran. “Bojack, right?” Roran said. Bojack closed his eyes again, leaned his head back, and gave Roran a quick nod. “I saw your matches.” He added. Bojack really didn’t care.

That’s cool.” Bojack said. “I just hope you’re ready for your turn.

Roran gave him a small chuckle which sort of pissed Bojack off. “I think I am.” He replied. The guy had a somewhat soothing voice, like an angel’s melody, however queer that sounded. “What motivates you?” He asked. Bojack opened his eyes and looked at Roran.

It was a good question.

What motivates me?” Bojack said. He put a finger on his chin to add emphasis to the fact he was thinking. “I guess it’s the fame. The women. The money. The fact that if I go out there and do my best day in and day out, that after I’m done here, people will be talking about me for the rest of their lives. Just ..I’m in it for myself. That’s all, kid.” Bojack knew how bland his dialogue was, but he didn’t care – it was the truth.

Roran nodded. “I see.” He then got up, and before he walked off, added, “I’ll see you in the ring, Bojack.

Fo’ sho.
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Bojack never showed up for his match.

He left before he was called to the ring. He didn’t want to fight Roran. He knew he couldn’t take him. There was something about that guy. No, Bojack wanted nothing to do with him. He also knew that if anybody had found out about him running away from his opponent, his legacy would be tarnished. It would be ridiculed. He was willing to risk it, as long as he didn’t have to fight this guy.

He had no clue where to go now. He wasn’t going to stay in town for fear of somebody identifying him and labeling him as a pussy. He wasn’t about to risk that much.

He wanted drugs. That was his nostrum.

He walked behind KFC and waited for someone to come back there. That’s where all the deals happened – KFC. He knew that from personal experience. He sat down and meditated for a while, trying to clear his conscience. He waited, and waited. Finally, he heard footsteps approach. When they laid eyes on him, they were startled, but quickly disguised their feelings. They asked him if he wanted a dime pack, he answered yes.

They gave it to him, and pretty soon they were on their way. It was an infallible move, selling weed to Bojack. He always had money and he would never snitch to the authority figures. Bojack rolled up the goods and pulled out his lighter. Putting the joint between his lips, he held it in place with his fingers on one hand while using his other hand to use the lighter to light the joint.

He took a puff, then another. He then exhaled. It felt good. He felt calm. It was his remedy – weed. Sure, it wasn’t healthy considering his career choice, but it sure as hell felt good. That’s what life was all about, wasn’t it? Feeling good? Doing whatever the hell you wanted as long because the result was always the same?

Bojack took another hit.
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He heard a police siren.

Goddamn. He didn’t want to deal with this, not now. He took another puff of his joint while he waited for the cops to come around back. They couldn’t arrest him, he knew that. They didn’t intimidate him either. Their bullets would have no effect on his near impenetrable skin. They were puny humans. And he was a near-invincible alien, in his own words.

Put your hands up and put the roach down!” They said to him. He laughed loudly at their terminology. He didn’t obey them. He took yet another hit of the joint. One of the officers began to stride closer and closer to Bojack, his pistol held out just in case Bojack attempted to fight back. Bojack looked at him and laughed.

He counted how many cops there were. Four. Not too many. But they needed a hell of a lot more if they even wanted to take Bojack into custody. Of course it would never happen – he was a warrior. And like he said before, they were just humans, who ate donuts and frisked hookers to get cheap feels. They were nobody special. Now he, he was special.

Go fuck yourself.” He said. He pushed past them and walked out from around the KFC alleyway. They didn’t follow him. His reputation must have preceded him.

He wiped away the water from his blood-stained eyes. He was as high as a kite. He stumbled around when trying to cross the street and was almost hit by a few cars on the passage over there. He decided to leave town – that was the best course of action. There was no point in sticking around now. If the police ever decided to follow him and try to actually make him give in, they were just prove to be annoying and waste his time.

He didn’t want that.

He decided to leave town. Again.
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It wasn’t a desolated footpath this time.

It was a highway. Cars were abundant on this highway, and he was sure everybody in them was doing the same thing. They were looking at him, pointing at him, making jokes at his expense. That’s all people did. Make fun of each other. The world was a vampire and all they did was suck someone else’s blood, just to satisfy their own perverse needs. That lack of self-confidence pissed Bojack off, making him even more of a hypocrite.

But he was just fine with that. He was the exception to that rule. He was the exception to every rule. He could kill people, but he considered himself a good guy. If someone even laid a finger on somebody else, they would evil. Downright evil with a soul that belonged to the Devil. He justified his actions with one word – power. He had power. More power than most people in the world had ever seen, that much was certain.

He used it to his advantage.

For instance, when he stuck his finger out on the highway, a car pulled over, and it pulled over fast. Everybody loved giving aliens rides. He got into the small truck that had picked him up. The guy was a trucker, obviously, who wore the ensemble. He wore a trucker hat, a extra-large grey t-shirt and camo pants.

Bojack.” said he, introducing himself. The trucker looked over and introduced himself as Jay. Jay appeared to be a young man, no older than thirty. Bojack was fine with that, as long as he wasn’t a sex offender who had a thing for aliens. He was a homophobe in every sense of the word.

Now that he thought about it, he was a pretty fucked up guy. A pessimistic, a druggie, a homophobe – he gave nobody any chance to prove themselves. But it wasn’t as if he thought they actually deserved one.

But little did Bojack know that he and Jay were about to be taken for a ride.
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They had been traveling together for over two days now.

Bojack didn’t care too much about the guy to make a lengthy conversation with him, but he decided to have one. He found out a bit of interesting stuff about the guy. He had two kids, a wife, his parents lived with him, he lived in his parent’s house, he was a trucker driver, and his name was Jay. That was the exact reason Bojack didn’t care about him. He was boring; he was just too bland for anything.

Finally, Bojack got out of his truck at a pit stop near a small village named Junard. When Bojack said small, he meant small. There must have been no more than about twenty families that occupied the village. There wasn’t a school nor a city hall. There were just homes and a small market that had everything the people of the village needed.

Bojack couldn’t live out here. Where was the gentlemen’s club? Or the bars? Where was the stuff that made you go out at night? It sure as hell wasn’t in this town.

But Bojack decided to make camp there. Knocking on the door of the first house he saw, a small boy opened it. His named was Billy. Bojack asked Billy where his parents where, and the kid brought them to Bojack. Bojack asked for a room so he could stay the night, and when Billy’s parents objected, he pulled out some zeni and gave it Billy’s dad. That made him change his mind.

Bojack entered after Billy Sr. and took a seat in the living room. It was a small house, probably only two bed rooms. One for the parents and one for the kid. That was quite pleasant, Bojack presumed. Suddenly, when he thought about it in retrospect, he felt pangs of jealousy creep up in his body.

Fuck Billy and his loving parents.
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He didn’t plan on staying long.

Just long enough to get his head straight and soon as that was possible, he was leaving. Without a word, without a sign, he would just leave. He would leave people with questions such as “what was the blue guy here for?” and “what was his name?” Sure, the latter didn’t seem logical since he had introduced himself to everybody already.

But before he left, he had to do one thing. He had to meet somebody from this part of the country. He wasn’t sure if this was the exact village, but he knew it was in a small village in the east. This was a small village in the east. The chances of that happening weren’t big, so Bojack just had to try his luck.

After waking up from a long sleep, he left the house without eating breakfast, almost kicking over Billy’s dog in the process. He had to meet the guy before it was too late. He knew the guy was a traveler just like himself, skipping town at the first opportunity. And for that same reason, Bojack just had to catch up with him.

He walked up to the small hut which he naturally assumed was the guy’s. He knocked on the door. There was no answer. He knocked again. This time, a small old man with a hunchback opened the door. “Hello?” He asked, his voice weak.

Bojack. We need to talk.

Bojack?!” The man asked. He moved aside when Bojack began to walk inside. When he was in, Bojack took note of the aroma. It was pleasant, like peaches. There were scrolls everywhere, sensei scrolls. Bojack took a seat without being offered one.

He waited for the old man to walk over, which he did – slowly. Bojack kept his eye on him. He didn’t trust him one bit. He was old, yes, but he was deceiving.

A master of trickery.
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This was Bojack’s old master.

His name was Shon. Shon was a bastard, just as much as Roshi. He wasn’t all about power or anything; he was more like the ninja type. He taught Bojack how to stay in the shadows, how to use trickery to win a fight. He was stealth, in every sense of the word. But Bojack never learned; Bojack was his worst student by far. Bojack hated the shadows. He’d rather fight in the light of day and allow his opponent to give his adversary a face.

But this guy wasn’t a good guy. But Bojack needed him. “Look, Shon, I ne-” He was interrupted.

Master Shon.” Shon wasn’t playing around.

Like I said, Shon, there was some shit you taught us a while ago. Stuff on how to calm your mind. I need you to teach me that.

So, let me get this straight, son. You were my worst student, and you disrespected me before you ran off, and then you come back a few years later and expect me to teach you a technique?” Shon asked, “..Fine. You want to learn how to calm your mind? Smoke weed, like you usually do.

Bojac didn’t laugh at his wit, not this time. “Go fuck yourself.

Get out of here.” Shon sternly said.

And just like that, Bojack’s chance at sanity was lost. The guy refused to teach him how to suppress the bad thoughts in his mind, so Bojack had nothing to do. No way to control his emotions and stop feeling like a piece of shit. No way at all. It wasn’t fair.

It never was.

Bojack left his house, slamming the door shut when he did.

It was time to get out of there. Now that Shon learned he was there, he was sure he would send someone after Bojack to see how much better he had gotten or if he had grown rusty. Shon was a bitch.
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Bojack was going to head back to West City.

There was a tournament going on there; he saw a poster of it. He knew he had a good shot at winning this one. Maybe that would be what he needed – a fight. A fight where he would hold nothing back, and give it his all, clearing his mind of all thoughts. Maybe all this crap that was going on in his head was due to the fact that he had a lot of pent-up anger. That had to be it.

He didn’t hitch a ride this time. He decided to run there. It was no more than a day’s walk away so maybe he would get there in half the time if he ran. That was the good part about being a warrior – it took a lot to tire you out. He could run for days if he had the proper nourishment and rest. Running for half a day would require no more energy than picking up the newspaper every day from your front porch.

Anyways, after Bojack stopped by the small marketplace in the village, he put it in his pack and then decided to take off. He said goodbye to Billy and his damn parents, feeling that same jealousy overcome him. “Bastards,” he mumbled when they closed the door after they parted ways. If he ever came to this part of the universe, he would definitely stop by again when he was a better person.

They were good people.

He wasn’t. But, on the plus side, he found someone that was willing to travel with him. His name was Tyugo. He was a villager, probably around the age of eighteen. He too was a warrior and as long as he didn’t offer any lag to their trip he was welcome to come with. Bojack made him hold the stuff.

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What motivated Tyugo?

When Bojack asked him, he told him it was so he could bring some money to their village and get them a school so other kids would have a chance at making money and making the village more modern. That was a noble reason – fighting for the ones you loved so they could have a good life. Leaving home was a laudable move as well, going to a far-off destination where he knew nobody just so he could make something of himself and his village.

Stuff like that made Bojack happy. He gave Tyugo a pat on the back. Tyugo didn’t respond to that. The alien didn’t mind. After a few hours of walking, Bojack decided to stop in another small village that was in their way before they started running to save time. Tyugo didn’t mind either, as long as he was there before the tournament started.

Bojack wished he could fight Tyugo in the tournament just to see how dedicated he was; to see if he had what it took to make something of himself. If not, then, too bad for him. Bojack wasn’t going to hold back. Fuck that. If you couldn’t win a battle giving it your all, there was no need even going into it. Sure, that was also a hypocritical statement, but he didn’t care; he was Bojack.

He was the exception. After about an hour of resting and feasting, Bojack and Tyugo, the two warriors of the east, or so he called them, departed at full speed. Tyugo somehow managed to keep up, but at a price. He could tell the kid was getting tired quicker than Bojack was, but that would have been a sacrifice the kid was going to have to make.

Pretty soon, West city was in their sights and they had no obstacles to overcome before they got there.

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Bojack led the duo to the arena where the tournament was going to be held.

It was identical to the one that Bojack had participated in before, but it had its differences. It was bigger, which was the only noticeable thing. On top of that, it was also going to be broadcasted worldwide on ESPN, which made Bojack smirk. Finally, he got TV time. He already had a movie, now he was going to star on TV. His legacy was taking shape.

The Legacy of Bojack. He wanted a game like that to come out, preferably on every game platform out there. He knew it would sell like hotcakes, possibly ending the recession most countries were in right now. It would be beautiful, probably winning Game of the Year for a few years in a row until The Legacy of Bojack 2 came out. He amused himself at times.

He looked over at Tyugo and asked him how much he weighed. One hundred and eighty pounds. The alien was sure he would be allowed to compete in the adult division if he could pass the punching-machine test. It was simple, punch as hard as you could, and if you were any good, you were allowed a spot in the tournament. Bojack decided to go last this time, seeing as how he couldn’t control his own strength so he’d rather not ruin the machine like before.

Tyugo and Bojack were the last two in line. When it was Tyugo’s turn, he scored a 228 out of 300. Bojack decided to hit it just right this time, giving him an even 300. This seemed to impress Tyugo, who complimented Bojack when they were finally alone. After a while, the participants that were allowed to compete were announced.

Bojack and Tyugo were two of them. There were sixteen in all. The judges told the warriors to come back tomorrow when the first eight matches would be held.
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Tyugo was announced to go against a puny alien who seemed to pack a mighty punch.

It would’ve been a evenly matched match. Bojack knew he was going to watch it, not because it would be entertaining, but because he wanted to see just how good the kid was. When the match started, the only thing Tyugo did was deflect his opponent’s attacks. It was obvious he had been trained by Shon. He moved with cheetah-like reflexes, taking his time to fight back.

He was wearing down his opponent, which was a smart move. But if Bojack was in the match, he would have just taken the fight to his opponent – fuck holding back. Finally, Tyugo striked with lightning speed. A jab landed in his opponent’s rib-cage followed by a knee to his chin. That knocked the guy on his ass. He got up after a seven count though.

That stressed Tyugo out. Instead of holding back this time, he allowed his emotions to get the best of him, which wasn’t the best move for a warrior of his caliber. The alien expected it, and took advantage each time the kid slipped up. Tyugo was in bad shape after two minutes in. His nose was bloody, he was clutching his abdomen, and he was barely standing up straight.

This time, it was the alien’s turn to screw up. He slipped and his face landed right on Tyugo’s knee. That seemed to knock, or kill, out the alien who was then down for a full ten count. Tyugo jumped happily up and down when he was announced the winner, forgetting about his bruised body. When he came back to the waiting room, that was a different story.

Tyugo wouldn’t be a good opponent for Bojack, that much was certain.

Good match, kid.” Bojack said.
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It was Bojack’s turn this time.

He was scheduled to go against a human. He was a skinny guy but he had a reputation for being the fastest in West City. Well, Bojack was the fastest in the world. If this guy couldn’t capitalize when he had the chance, Bojack knew he stood less of a chance than he currently did. Bojack taunted him backstage, flipping him off whenever he had the chance. If there was one thing he learned from training with Shon, it was to psyche your opponent out if you had the chance.

Everybody knew that.

Their match wasn’t until later on, until six other matches happened. They were next to last. Bojack was tired of waiting so he took a few shots at the punching bag they had in the waiting room. It broke in half after two punches though, so he just punched air for the rest of the time. He knew he was being watched by half of the locker room, but there was something about these people that unsettled him. So he turned around, and then he saw him for the first time.

It was Roran.

The same guy from the other tournament. Here. At the same tournament Bojack was in, again. His match was scheduled to happen after Bojack’s – the last match. fuck. Bojack thought. For never facing this guy in a fight before, Bojack was quite wary of him. If they both won their matches, they would be facing each other in the next match, something that he wasn’t prepared for.

Roran didn’t look at him though. His head was hanging down, studying the floor he was standing on. That made Bojack feel a bit better. They were planned to fight at their last tournament, but Bojack left town before that ever happened.

He wondered what Roran thought of him.


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Did he consider Bojack a pussy? Or was he feeling lucky that Bojack wasn’t here to deliver the smackdown?


Whatever. Finally, it was Bojack’s turn to fight.

He made his way to the ring, and waited for his opponent to show up. When his opponent did, he ran around the perimeter of the ring for a reason unbeknownst to Bojack. The alien waited for him to calm down while the bell rang, signaling the start of the match. When the guy got close enough, Bojack stuck his hand out and plucked him out of the sky as you would do a fly.

He held him close to three feet off the ground, just studying him. The human began to punch Bojack, but they weren’t successful in making Bojack hurt in the slightest. Bojack then threw the guy out of the ring and onto the ground below, disqualifying him. Bojack raised his hand, taking in the glory of being the winner. He then turned to the camera and gave it a big smile, allowing the world to see his pearly pearls.

When he walked back to the waiting room, he caught glimpse of Tyugo and Roran talking. Where they talking about him? He sure as hell hoped not. But then again, Roran asking about him would confirm something for Bojack – that he was just as terrified of the alien as Bojack was terrified of him. That might just make Bojack feel a bit better.

Finally, Roran was called to the ring for his match. He was going to fight a guy that was just the same build as him. It seemed to be an interesting fight. Bojack watched with an urge. Roran’s opponent made the first move, attempting to punch Roran in the face, but Roran side-stepped him. He then put his foot into the guy’s chest. When they both got their bearings about them, they both squared off again. It wasn’t evenly-matched.

Roran made him look like a pussy.

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Roran toyed around with him some more.

Bojack was sure that his actions were directed towards Bojack. It was a mind game. Did this guy get trained by Shon too?

Finally, after Roran delivered a hard punch to the guy’s face, he knocked him out cold. There was no need for a ten count, he wasn’t even moving. They had to make sure he was living though. Roran was at risk of being disqualified for being too rough for his opponents. But he wasn’t disqualified. The guy was okay, he just had the wind knocked the crap out of him.

Fuck that. Bojack was sure Roran should have been disqualified. Maybe he was just thinking that because the alien didn’t want to face him in battle, but still, that kind of crap shouldn’t have been allowed. Bojack never did it. Only once or twice, but not this today.

Whatever. Bojack didn’t care. He and Roran were going to face off tomorrow and their battle was going to be the first of the day. He had to go and get ready. How could a puny human like that actually make Bojack feel uneasy? There was definitely something about him. And tomorrow, Bojack was going to punch it out of him. Fuck being scared, it didn’t do anything.

Tyugo’s match was going to be second. Bojack accompanied Tyugo to a nearby hotel and got a room there. They were going to share a room, because Tyugo could barely afford his own, so Bojack paid for one whole room which had two beds. As long as Tyugo wasn’t gay, Bojack didn’t mind – he was a hustler.

He had zeni. He didn’t mind spending it, because when he won the tournament, he was going to win it back, and get like twice how much he currently had.

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Finally, it was time for Roran and Bojack to happen.

Roran went to the ring first. It was in the rules to walk out together, but nobody followed them anyways, certainty not Bojack. Bojack came out shortly after and the crowd erupted. The crowd was split into two. They were certain they were the fan favorites on the tournament, and everyone probably wanted to let this match be in the finals, where it would have more importance. But, it was scheduled to happen now, at that very moment in time and space – and Bojack was actually prepared.

He was actually doped out.

But that just about heightened his senses. He could hear better, smell better, hear better, but his vision was a bit downgraded. That was probably due to his eyes being beet-red. But, whatever. He and Roran shook hands reluctantly to tell the fans they were going to have one hell of a battle.

Roran, this time, decided to strike first and attempted a punch at Bojack’s head. Bojack moved out of the way just in the time, surprised at the human’s speed. He retaliated with a kick to Roran’s chin, but Roran dodged that too. They kept trading unsuccessful blows a good while until finally, Roran got the upper hand. He planted his elbow into Bojack’s neck, then followed up with a jab to the side of Bojack’s head.

Bojack stumbled over, but quickly stopped. He looked over at Roran, and smiled. He taunted him again, which sent the crowd into uproarious applaud. They seemed to be getting off to the battle that was underhand. Bojack gave them energy to feed off of, taunting Roran again. Roran mimicked Bojack, which was also a good move that got everybody pumped up.

It was no longer a battle of the warriors, but also one of the wits.
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Roran attacked again, sending his leg flying towards Bojack’s cranium.

Bojack caught his leg between his arm and abdomen and swung Roran around, throwing him to the other side of the ring. Bojack was a beast. “Know your role, Jabroni” He said. He then preceded to taunt him again, throwing a finger sign towards him. Hopefully Roran would understand that it was nothing personal, but that it was Bojack pleasing the crowd, allowing them to think this battle was personal, not professional, making it even better.

Roran got up again, and then attempted to tackle Bojack. He speared Bojack’s midsection, but Bojack didn’t even budge. This kid was losing his strength, fast, but he got quicker. Bojack gave the kid’s back a hammerblow, knocking him down to his knees, and then knee’d him in the back of the head, knocking him to the ground. It did seem like the fight had gotten a bit personal. Bojack walked backwards, giving Roran a chance to gather his thoughts before he made another move.

Suddenly, Roran got up, and then appeared behind Bojack. This kid had gotten really fast. But he was still weak. He punched the back of Bojack’s head, which was only hard enough to be noticed, but not m ore than that. Bojack laughed loudly. “That the best you got, mothafucka?” He asked.

Roran answered by giving Bojack a low blow, and then when he doubled over, kicking Bojack in the head as hard and fast as he could. Bojack’s head felt like it flew off his shoulders and when he fell to the ground, it would have been nice to just let the fight finish.

But he couldn’t let this kid win.

He jumped back to his feet, and then looked at Roran through his blood shot eyes. They were both badly banged up. But this fight had to have a winner.

And Bojack loved winning.
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He attempted to tackle Roran.

But Roran side-stepped him, making Bojack trip over and fall on his face. He was getting embarrassed on live tv. This was going to have to end. Bojack tried to grab Roran’s feet, but when Roran found out what Bojack had attempted to do, he simply kicked Bojack in the face. Bojack growled as loud as he could, then reached for Roran’s legs, who then proceeded to kick Bojack in the neck this time. Fuck that. Bojack got up, and rubbed his neck and the side of his face where the guy kicked him. It stung, but it was manageable.

Let’s finish this, kid.” Bojack said.

Roran nodded, and then attempted to kick Bojack everywhere again. But he slipped up this time. He allowed his confidence to get the best of him, and that’s when Bojack noticed it. This kid’s shoes were untied. That was all he needed. When Roran tried to run past him, he caught glimpse of his shoelaces and stepped on them, making Roran trip over and fall. Bojack took it upon himself to crush Roran’s ankle, which made him cry out in pain.

Bojack enjoyed it. It was fine. He then attempted to break Roran’s other ankle, before he yelled “I QUIT!” Bojack broke it anyway, unable to stop. Rage overtook him. He pulled Roran up by his hair, and held him up with one hand. He began to punch Roran everywhere with his free hand. He finished it off with a strong punch to the face, probably giving the human a concussion.

Finally, other warriors began to come out and fill the ring, and began to hold Bojack down. He allowed them to. He knew he had went overboard, and it cost him his spot in the tournament. He was disqualified for unnecessary roughness.

Fuck that.


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