Street Cultivation 3: Chapters 43-44 (Patreon)

There are some significant shifts in these chapters. Due to the intended differences in this series, it was never going to be Rick going from zero to immortal omnipotence. But I wanted to show his growth in multiple ways, beyond just strength. Hopefully it feels both earned and satisfying.

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Chapter 43: Casual Drinking

The Nokan guards stepped away, bowing in respect as Teragen walked forward. Soon it was only the two of them outside the arena, the street troublingly empty. Rick thought it was just his imagination that the ground shook as Teragen walked forward, but he couldn't escape the feeling.

Rick pulled himself together and took a deep breath, not backing away. The distance between them had definitely decreased, not that it would matter if it came to a fight. But he wasn't expecting a fight.

"Hm." Teragen walked up to face him and simply folded his arms, waiting. Rick hadn't exactly expected that, but he was at least prepared with something he thought might make Teragen stay.

"I've been told that there is no peak of combat ability. Do you agree?"

Teragen regarded him with those unnatural eyes for a long time before speaking. "Lucrim numbers are linear. Power isn't."

"I understand that," Rick said carefully, "but they're telling me that I need to give up everything else to maximize one strength."

"True. Just shortsighted." Teragen's head shifted slightly to the side, regarding him like he was a small animal that had just done something interesting. "Absolute specialists are strong, but they are pets who do tricks for the world's true masters. The Peerless are old and their eyes are dim, but what they maximized was flexibility. Anyone who tells you that power is a single mountain is a fool."

It was the longest speech Rick had ever heard from the warrior. He wanted to take more time to think about it, but fearing that Teragen would get bored, he filed the words away and pressed on. "You aren't the equal to the Peerless, are you?

"No. I stand among those who stand beneath them."

"Then what is it that you seek? To be able to fight them?"

A low rumble turned out to be a chuckle. "I seek strength for myself. That is the only reason to do anything."

Rick almost laughed along, since that was a bit more philosophical than he'd been expecting, but managed to hold back. "Why do you work with Granny Whitney?"

"Resources." It seemed like Teragen would say nothing more, and Rick was puzzled for a moment before Granny Whitney hobbled from out of the tunnel behind them. She gave him a beaming smile as she approached.

"Wonderful to see you again, dearie. And before you upset yourself, you should know that this was nothing but a happy coincidence. My only business with you at the moment is that you're occupying my heavyweight when he should be defending me."

Though Rick wanted to turn and run, he'd known this might happen and just shifted his attention to the old woman. "I won't ask why you're here, if that's going to pull me into another scheme."

"Oh, it's just another little bet with Gerald and Alger. Nothing to concern yourself with, dearie." Granny Whitney beamed at him. "But today's events were becoming so boring. I suggest this: we will amuse one another for a little information over a drink. At the end of it, I will count us as even as we have always been, unless we come to another agreement. Does that seem fair?"

"Sure." Rick assumed that nothing she had anything to do with was remotely fair, but he figured that this was the best choice. If she truly wanted nothing from him, it could be a useful exchange of information. If she did want something, refusal would just provoke her.

"Wonderful!" Granny Whitney clapped her hands together and headed off down the street. "There is a lovely place just down the way. Their drinks are... very discreet."

So just like that, he was having drinks with a crime boss and a dragonweight. Rick tried not to think about the fact and just kept his head around him as they advanced down the Nokan street.

Though most of the buildings were ordinary enough, one of them appeared to be carved directly into the side of a gigantic tree. He could see levels that were nearly hollowed and balconies formed from branches, but they entered on the lowest level and were escorted to a small room without windows.

A waiter appeared beside them almost immediately. Granny Whitney asked for vodka in English, so Rick just asked for local serum. He wasn't sure if she was paying, but that would hopefully be both interesting and inexpensive. Teragen spoke in what must be Nokan and the server immediately bowed away.

"Now, there is just a little information I wouldn't mind getting from you." Granny Whitney leaned forward and clasped her hands over the purse in her lap. "I think you must be familiar with the boy sitting alone on Alger's balcony, simply by fighting in the Showdown together. Do you know much of him?"

"Uh, not very much." Rick didn't want to sell out Raggest, but simply refusing wouldn't go well. "His name is Raggest and he hasn't exactly given much personal information."

"That's the curious thing. Usually Alger picks up mongrels from one street or another who already have training, but this boy seemed to have come from nowhere. It is... puzzling, to say the least. One must wonder whose agent he is, behind the innocent facade."

"I'm not sure there's anything behind any facade. From what I've seen, Raggest lives to train and doesn't care about anything else. He seems to have been working with Alger for a long time. That's about all I know." Hopefully those few details wouldn't cause any problems, but Granny Whitney shook her head slowly.

"Trained by Alger from a young age, perhaps? I didn't think he had the patience, but that would be troubling. That is... an interesting piece of information."

They were interrupted by the arrival of the server, setting down three very different drinks on a tray carved like an elephant. Granny Whitney's vodka was in a spiral-carved glass, Rick's serum bubbled in a glass bottle, and Teragen's drink was some sort of white mist in a wooden cup.

As Granny Whitney took a moment to remove a flask from her purse and pour something bright blue into her drink, Rick realized that he should seize the initiative. He twisted the cap off his serum so it wouldn't be too obvious, but then spoke up first.

"Just what can you give Teragen that he's willing to travel across the world to work for you?"

"Oh, dearie, that's between me and the man himself." Granny Whitney glanced toward Teragen, who gave no response except to take a drink from his cup. "That's a no, I believe. Are you really surprised that a kindly old woman would have a trick or two up her sleeve?"

"Honestly, yes. I'd imagine that anything he needed, he could get from a government, or a group of immortals, or one of the Peerless."

Granny Whitney took a sip from her glass, then set it down and fixed him with a steel gaze. "Would you like for me to explain to you how the world really works, Rick? You're a smart boy, so you shouldn't be blundering around like most of those fools."

"Can you resist the chance to lecture me?" He intended the words to be cutting, but the old woman didn't acknowledge them except to begin speaking.

"The Peerless are the most powerful warriors on Earth, without a doubt, but only if what you need is immense destructive power. They've built organizations and countries around themselves, but those are also bonds. You see, over the years, those great warriors have discovered that they like modernity. Technology and thriving nations have improved their lives in ways that destructive power never could. But if any of them act directly, their peers could take that all away from them."

"Mutually assured destruction."

"Just so, dearie. And honestly, most of them are quite happy with the status quo. Those governments without that raw power try to carve out whatever niche they can, but they're locked into the global stalemate. They either decay into outdated tradition, like Siberia or the Nokan Empire, or they fracture into disagreement."

"So who does control things?" Rick asked. "I know you're not going to say it's you. What about all the corporations?"

"Oh, they certainly represent power in this world. The Global Lucrim Authority controls a great deal, and countless international corporations are truly shaping the lives of the common people. But they move like elemental forces, demanding as much as they give. So, there exists a specific and critical niche: a place for those with power and also the ability to use it freely."

Rick nodded as it came together for him. "Those like you. Or Alger, or the American Basilisk."

"See, you're catching on." Granny Whitney reached out to pat his cheek, then took another sip from her glass. "Alger specializes in working with insane fighters for reasons I've never been able to discover. Gerald represents very traditional organized crime, effective but dull. I may be weaker than Alger and far smaller than the Basilisk's organization, but I've found my own little place in the world."

As he thought it over, Rick finally took a drink from his bottle. The serum tasted good, but to his surprise reminded him of coffee. It was a strange flavor, but he felt the energy rush through him immediately. He wondered what Lisa would make of it, but pushed that distraction aside.

After his drink, he realized a glaring omission. "You didn't say anything about immortals. Or are they the ones leading governments and corporations?"

"Immortals." Granny Whitney snorted. "Some of them are Peerless or CEOs or something else of great import. But far more of them are obsolete relics, wasting their money on email scams and placebo supplements they hope will restore their greatness. Now that they can't control everything around them, they're being left behind."

"That is... certainly a different perspective." Rick took a longer drink, glancing at Teragen and wondering what the warrior thought. He didn't seem inclined to join the conversation, having finished his drink and now sitting silently.

"Now, these remedial lessons have been mildly interesting, but do you have anything else for me? I was wondering what else you could tell me of Alger's movements."

"I honestly don't know very much. The last I encountered him was in Siberia, and that was in public."

Granny Whitney frowned, her eyes glittering sharply. "Don't lie to me, boy."

"Lie to you? Why do you think I would know more?"

"Because you're working with this H fellow. I refuse to believe that no information passes down to you."

"What? That doesn't..." Rick shook his head, not sure if he could have heard correctly or if he wanted to understand. "Alger and H hate each other."

"Is that what they told you?" The old woman shook her head at him sadly. "Then it seems I will repay your information after all. I assure you, the two of them are not enemies. I believe that Alger may have trained H, when he was younger. Are you sure you haven't been deceived?"

The idea was so shocking that he was immediately suspicious of it. Granny Whitney would lie to him in an instant if it would benefit her in the slightest, and he could easily imagine reasons why she might want to make him mistrust H. Or this could be some far more elaborate scheme against Alger in which he was just a playing piece.

Yet the possibility that she was telling the truth stuck in his mind. Against his will, he considered that Alger might not be as mad as he seemed. The strange man would have known that Rick would never willingly work with him, so he might have sent an agent...

"H isn't working for Alger. His patron is an immortal named Josiah Craw." The words sounded weak even to him, and Granny Whitney snorted.

"Josiah is a racist old coot who hasn't been relevant in a century. It would be easy for Alger to convince him to get involved with one of the little immortal games to use him as a front."

"Do you have proof of all of this?" Rick asked. But Granny Whitney simply shook her head, knocked back the entire rest of her vodka at once, and stood up.

"That would exceed the terms of our agreement, dearie. And besides, if you don't really know what you're doing, you could well be used against me. So I hope our little chat has been useful to you, but I will gladly step away from it. Teragen, let us return."

"Not yet." The massive warrior rose, but remained there staring down at Rick. Granny Whitney reversed direction, giving Rick a syrupy smile.

"If you're thinking of using Teragen to train again, I'm afraid I really must stop you. Just sparring with someone like him is worth more than someone like you can afford. Now, if you are willing to make a small agreement regarding Alg-"

"This is personal." Teragen spoke the words quietly, but Rick felt the force within them. Granny Whitney was silent for a moment, then sighed and turned away without another word.

That meant it was only the two of them in the small room. Rick could only dream that one day he might be able to command silence like that. He felt awkward sitting and so stood up, unsure what was to come.

"I expected you to retire or die," Teragen said slowly. "Either the ambition that made you attack me would lead to your death, or you would choose another path. Instead, I find you here. This surprises me, and I am not accustomed to being surprised."

"Uh... is that good or bad?" Though Rick could stare into those molten eyes without freezing or cowering, they were more than a little unnerving.

"It is interesting, which is neither. But I have chosen to help you take a small step forward. I hope that you have a better idea than being beaten half to death."

"Well, I don't have any Deathbane anyway." It wasn't really a joke, but he said it anyway. Though Rick had been hoping that Teragen might be willing to help him, now that he finally reached that point, he had trouble getting his thoughts out. "...my best Lucore is something called the Triune Golden Spheres. With exposure to your lucrim, it c-"

"No. It is a tool, and you are not your tools." Teragen stared down at him without any expression, but Rick knew that refusal would never budge. He'd been afraid of that, but he had a second choice.

"I have a foundation called the Dark Blood Kettle that develops along with me. I'm unclear on the exact mechanism, but it's never encountered someone as strong as you. I was wondering... well...

"Hm. Interesting."

Without warning, Teragen reached forward, grasping Rick's face as if to crush his head in one hand. There was no pressure, just an immense rush of power so intense that Rick couldn't have said if it was lucrim, aura, or ether. All he knew was that he felt as though his head was being scoured clean from the inside by green fire.

When he could see again, he had slumped against one of the walls and Teragen was gone. Rick could feel that his defensive cores were scorched and all excess lucrim had been burned away. But strangest of all, the Dark Blood Kettle seemed to be boiling.

Most likely, that was a good thing. It was the only part of Rick's life that he was sure about, because when he considered everything Granny Whitney had said, he was left with nothing but difficult questions.

-

Chapter 44: Sobering Realization

Having just received another seal, Rick caught a bit of slack from H, and he should have been happy. It wasn't as if he had any intention of relaxing on his training, especially when he was still trying to rebuild all the Lucores that Teragen had thoroughly disrupted.

But doing that required focus and certainty. For once, Rick was lacking in both, still troubled by everything Granny Whitney had said. At times he could almost convince himself that she had been telling lies for the sake of manipulating him, but at others he worried he might be burying his head in the sand. It made it very difficult to really take a step forward.

Which was why he had allowed Raggest to drag him out of their hotel to some sort of fighting ring. As they walked to the location, Rick was still trying to figure out exactly what it was, which was made more difficult by the fact that even Raggest didn't seem to know. But he'd heard something about a unique Nokan arena, so that was where they were headed.

"Oh, hey, there it is!" Raggest slapped him on the shoulder excitedly. "Come on, let's see what it's like!"

The building itself was all gleaming chrome and sharp angles, yet the entrance was an archway of carved stone that looked ancient. When they approached, a bouncer in traditional Nokan robes stepped into their path with a polite smile.

"Welcome to the Emperor's Menagerie. As the two of you are foreigners, if you wish to observe, you will need to purchase a membership or a one time pass."

"Sure, whatever." Raggest dug around in one pocket and shoved a bar of lucrim at the man, briefly surprising both of them. Rick thought that everyone knew that lucrim was stored in different ways in different countries, and they'd even discussed it back in South Africa, but Raggest seemed oblivious.

"Sir... this is not a money exchange. If you wish to use foreign currency, there will be a 50% markup."

"Eh? You need more?" Raggest started to hand over a couple more bars, but Rick stepped in before he could waste all his money.

"They just want Nokan lucrim containers, man," Rick said. "Or... I hope that pure lucrim would be accepted?"

The bouncer immediately bowed and revealed a wooden rod from within his sleeve. "Please simply convert the appropriate amounts into this vessel. It will be 125 lucrim for each of you, presuming you desire only a one day pass."

Rick nodded and transferred the lucrim straight from his lucrima soul. Normally he would have needed to convert his lucrim containers for every country, suffering fees all along the way. Thanks to all the training he'd done for useless job interviews at banks, he was adept at storing it in raw form. Nearly everyone would accept lucrim that way, so he saved a lot of money on fees. Maybe not so much money compared to his current life, but he couldn't stand to lose lucrim for no reason.

Of course, now he was paying 250 lucrim just to enter some random arena. As they were allowed inside, Raggest handed him the bars of lucrim instead, saying it was to repay his fee. The bars were worth well over 400, leading Rick to wonder if the younger man had any sense for money at all, but then they were entering and his attention was thoroughly distracted.

The crowded hallways were ordinary enough, filled with tourists and fight enthusiasts alongside different vendors. But most of the images on the walls showed demons instead of humans, and one of the largest posters seemed to promote a fight between a human and a demon. He wasn't sure exactly how that was possible, but Raggest was eagerly pulling him onward to the arena itself.

As they entered, Rick felt a strange aura pass over his body and shivered. He felt as if he was coated in a thin layer of oil, the world sliding past him. Yet even that couldn't distract him from the sight of the arena floor: a team of three humans was fighting against a team of demonic apes.

Both sides actually made contact with one another, as if they existed in the same realm. Rick tried to look more carefully, examining if the demons had bonded animals somehow, yet he didn't think that was actually the case. When he turned to ask Raggest, he discovered that the other man was already rushing to the edge, hollering his approval at the fighters below.

"How exactly does that work?" Rick directed the question towards Katenka, and when she swirled into being, something was slightly different about her.

"Most parts of the world have a firm barrier between the human and demon realms," she said, then reached out and tapped him on the side of the head. He actually felt her finger, though not quite like a physical touch. "The Nokan Empire has fundamentally different beliefs, and they've long taken steps to thin the barrier."

"Huh. I've never heard of anything like that... though I guess that thing Damian used was similar."

"You could think of that as an isolated instance of the policy that is applied nation-wide here." Katenka smiled and gestured forward. "But perhaps you should follow your friend and see what all the fuss is about."

As it turned out, the fuss was entirely understandable: you couldn't see humans and demons fighting each other in very many places in the world. Otherwise, it struck him as the same as every other pit fight, not so dissimilar from the Underground. Raggest seemed enraptured, but Rick just watched the fights carefully.

What quickly became obvious to him was that the fighters had very different levels of experience. Some of the humans came in with wrestling techniques, unprepared for opponents with inhuman bodies and multiple limbs. But on the other side, some of the demons were surprisingly clumsy, making leaping movements that might have worked in the demon realm but let them be easily taken down. On both sides, there were a few who clearly understood how to fight different opponents, and those were the ones who attracted the largest cheers from the audience.

It might have been interesting to participate, though Rick wasn't sure how much that would cost. He suspected that he could do fairly well, even if they found opponents with strength similar to his. Though he hadn't fought many demons directly, he had some experience with their techniques, and fighting against jackalopes and other animals had rounded out his style.

Raggest was not actually much fun, just cheering anyone who succeeded and booing those who failed. Katenka proved more interesting, remaining manifest beside him and occasionally commenting on the specific demons. He quickly learned that while she hadn't been to the Nokan Empire before, she had some exposure to their customs in the demon realm.

Here, there was no "Siberia" and "Burning Snow" - it was the Nokan Empire on both sides. Apparently they considered demonic fusion to be a clumsy foreign concept, though Katenka argued it was better suited to the modern world. It might have been an interesting conversation, if not for the next fighter.

It was a young Nokan man struggling against a massive demon with six arms, all of them sending bursts of aura fire cascading around him. The other humans had fallen earlier in the fight, which Rick had a feeling was like the "Slayer" matches: it was bloodsport for the audience, watching a superior opponent curbstomp weaker enemies.

Yet his last opponent struggled on, despite the blood sliding down the side of his head. His portfolio wasn't anything special, but he had a speed Lucore that he'd clearly spent a lot of time on. Against his opponent's strategy of blanketing the field with aura flames, it let him keep dodging while his opponent wasted more and more energy.

Not enough. An aura flame eventually caught the young man in the chest and sent him crumpling against the arena wall. Most cheered the triumphant demon, while Rick watched to make sure that healers attended the young man. A few did, but he doubted they would heal everything.

Meanwhile, Raggest sat back with a look of disgust. "A failure. I really thought he was going to pull that off, the way he was dodging. Leap in there and punch the demon through the face!"

"He couldn't have done that," Rick said. "The demon had shrugged off stronger blows and he didn't have a good offensive Lucore."

"That's his fault, isn't it?"

Rick frowned over at the other man. "Seriously? Look at his clothes: do you think he's swimming in lucrim? I would have thought that you'd have admired him, enduring that long even when he knew he couldn't win. He was getting faster during the fight, too, learning from it."

"Yeah, and then he folded after taking just a few hits." Raggest shook his head. "I'd have been impressed if he won, sure. But that one just danced around and then got the shit kicked out of him. I would have blasted the demon straight to hell. You probably could have walked straight into all those flames and not even flinched."

"Probably, but he didn't have our advantages."

"Huh?" Raggest turned to look at him, baffled. "Come on, Rick, are you going to spout this kind of bullshit at me? Everything we have, we earned. If he didn't work as hard as we have, that's his fault."

Sitting in a packed arena, Rick sat completely alone. He just stared at Raggest, searching for anything other than earnestness in the other man's expression. That Nokan man could have been Rick, several years ago, struggling to make his one strength into a career. The only difference between them...

"Raggest, that's not fair." He was angrier than he expected, but couldn't hold back. "You've had Alger giving you valuable supplements, pills, and elixirs for years. He's given you world class techniques and constant guidance. You can't compare y-"

"What, you think I haven't earned this?" Raggest turned on him, more baffled than angry. "I've worked hard every day, harder than anyone else. And you don't have any room to talk. Your mentor has been feeding you constant Formula T, giving you that awesome golden technique, and paying for body reforging. You think that you didn't earn all that?"

All at once, Rick realized that he hadn't.

Yes, he'd been working hard for months, and yes, he'd struggled to earn each step. But he imagined that Mike and every other asshole Birthrighter thought that they earned what they had as well. Rick might not have been the same as them, yet the thought tore into him, forcing him to reconsider everything...

He didn't want to believe it, but Granny Whitney's words returned heavier than before. Worse than that, he started looking at all his own experiences in the Showdown under a new light. Not wanting to accept the conclusion, Rick decided to charge straight into it.

"How did you meet Alger?" he asked quietly. Raggest blinked at him in surprise.

"What, are you saying that I didn't earn that? You think he picked me like I won a lucrim lottery? I had to prove myself to him. Everyone else failed to reach his home through all the traps, but I followed the dreams and fought m-"

"What did you say?" Rick had grabbed the front of Raggest's shirt without even realizing it. The younger man immediately bashed away his hands and glared at him.

"Dreams of destiny, man. I know some people don't believe in them, but I thought you might know about this. Alger says that those who are destined for more than a boring life have lucrim dreams of what they will become."

"And what did you dream?"

"Myself as a powerful warrior, mostly. But I dreamed the path to Alger's house and I had the courage to follow it!"

Rick slowly took a step back and his leg nearly collapsed. The words might as well have been a physical blow, and the realizations he'd been holding off crashed into him in an assault he couldn't hold back.

What had led him to the Showdown was the inexplicable dream of a dangerous opponent. From there, Alger had made a clumsy attempt to recruit him... only to drive him directly into the hands of H. His mentor had given him everything, funneling him onto a path where he was completely controlled. In the Showdown, there was only one path upward, and that was Alger's path.

Though most of Rick was absolutely certain that it was true, he didn't want to accept such a conclusion without more evidence. Somehow he was still moving instead of collapsing under the weight of it. He patted Raggest on the shoulder and gave him an apologetic smile.

"Sorry, man, I've just had a lot on my mind lately. Plus, I think I lost track of time and didn't get any Formula T when I should have."

"Oh, that's not good at all." Raggest smiled as if the argument was entirely forgotten. "I'd give you some of mine, but I think my version is different."

"You drink Formula T too? Can I see?"

"I mean, I'm not actually sure what mine is called. Alger just gives it to me to help me get stronger." Raggest cooperatively bent down to his pack and pulled out the thermos. "I really don't think you should take too much, but if you want to try, why not? Might be a fun challenge."

Hands trembling slightly, Rick unscrewed the thermos lid and stared down at the golden liquid within. It looked almost exactly the same. He hesitantly took a sip and immediately felt the surge of power rush through him. Yes, it was Formula T. What Raggest was taking was more concentrated, but he couldn't doubt it was the same thing, and in turn he couldn't doubt his full conclusions.

"You're right, I shouldn't take yours." Rick handed it back, trying and failing to smile. "Listen, I need to run back and get mine. But thanks for taking me to the arena."

"Oh, sure thing. I was hoping we could both fight, but we'll get it figured out later." With that, Raggest turned away from him, focusing on nothing but the fights.

Rick walked out of the arena completely numb. As he stepped onto the street, the spiritually oily sensation vanished, but he still felt coated in the realizations. He'd been a fool for a long time, walking the path set before him and addicting himself. The only difference between him and a power addict was that he had backers who kept feeding him lucrim.

But they could withdraw it at any time.

That was what troubled him most. He could try to convince himself that even if Alger was using him, he was using Alger in return, but that wasn't really true. Alger had him entirely in his power, and when the time came, he could use his leverage to make do Rick whatever he wanted. Or more likely, play the villain and have H send him to do what Alger really wanted.

If Rick had been alone, he wasn't sure what he would have done. But Katenka had been hovering silently behind him during the entire conversation and she hadn't faded even when he left the arena. He turned and stared at her, almost too dazed to focus.

"I'm an idiot. You put it together too, didn't you? He's been manipulating me from the beginning."

"I haven't heard of anyone who can directly manipulate dreams," Katenka said softly. "But I don't think it's theoretically impossible. And which is more likely: that someone learned how to create dreams, or that prophetic dreams of the future exist?"

"Right. I've fallen for it hook, line, and sinker. I thought Raggest was oblivious, but I'm just as much of an idiot." Rick sat down on the curb and dropped his head into his hands. Yet before he could curl into misery, Katenka continued speaking.

"That isn't true, and I'm proof of that."

"...what do you mean?"

"One thing I can promise you is that I'm not part of this manipulation. I don't know what demonic contract H had prepared for you, but I'm sure that it would have put you further under his control. And you told me that he wanted you to use something called a Midas Foundation... imagine if your entire portfolio was built around power he controlled."

"That's..." Rick wanted to snap back on instinct, but forced himself to think. "Maybe you're right. But I have to assume that Lisa was right and I'm addicted to Formula T. Even if I could escape it, I couldn't compete in the Showdown without it."

"Do you want to?" Katenka watched him thoughtfully. "I can't answer that question for you, Rick. But you helped me escape Siberia. I'll support you as well as I can, whatever you decide."

It was a surprisingly good question. Rick sat back and stared at the sky for a while, his mind sliding around the thought instead of fully addressing it. The Showdown had never been his dream, it had been something that he'd stumbled into because it seemed like the best option. Just like fighting in the Underground or working for the Global Lucrim Authority. Alger might have unnatural abilities, but he wasn't a god. Rick made it easy to manipulate him because of how he plunged blindly toward his goals, just like Raggest.

Once he thought about it that way, the problem wasn't so impossible. Rick rubbed his eyes until he could see clearly, then stood up. It was time to make some calls.