Love Addict's RPG Ch. 54 (Patreon)

Hoping to get next one out tomorrow, we'll see. Eager to be done with fight.

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Oliver entered the main workout room of Contact Mike's Boxing Gym, where a good fifteen to twenty men were working to refine their physical instruments. The sound of leather gloves pummeling sandbags, men grunting while bench pressing, and cheap laughter among friends could be heard all around. Sweat permeated the air, and there was nothing the air conditioning could do about it.

Juan and Julio were at home here. They greeted some of their friends while fetching two pairs of gloves, one for both combatants. Juan tossed Oliver's to him after they met up in front of the practice ring, which was located in the back corner of the room and was scaled perfectly to any boxing ring you'd see in a professional match.

A couple of the boxers knew what would happen and huddled together to watch the show from the twin's corner, but aside from these three men, no one else was interested in what they'd be forgiven for assuming to be a one-sided slaughter. Sparring matches happened throughout the day, and most people didn't drop what they were doing just to watch their gym buddies tear each other apart, let alone some stranger.

The rules of the match were quickly determined between Oliver and Julio. They would treat this like the real deal- ten three-minute rounds with a one-minute break between them, no protective headgear. If either participant got knocked down three times in a single round, that would be that. Otherwise, the match would be settled by a knockout, or if Oliver made it to the end of the final round, the win would default to Juan.

Mia disapproved of this rule getting tacked on at the last minute, but they wouldn't drop it no matter how much she yelled at them. Julio claimed it was so that Oliver actually had to work for it and couldn't try to stall things out more than necessary, which admittedly complicated things more than he'd have liked.

Not that Oliver wanted to win through stalling. That would be lame, especially when he had an audience. The problem was he had no idea how much damage he could pull off in such a short time, and Oliver would've preferred to keep the option intact.

Oliver's compulsiveness had come back to bite him in the ass once again. He'd wanted to solve Mia's Heart Lock as soon as possible when he probably should've taken another day or two of prep time just to be safe. It made him wonder what was going to happen if he actually lost. His game-inspired powers had orchestrated this entire scenario, so what was the fail state? Would they allow him to make another attempt on this boss fight in the future, or would he have to deal with Juan and Julio some other way?

Oliver didn't want to find out and would rather win on his first attempt. The time-out rule was annoying, but it wouldn't stop him from dropping Juan to the canvas. How much punishment could the guy realistically take, anyway? Oliver presumed the answer was 'a lot less than a full-fledged wrestler' and looked forward to proving himself correct.

He ultimately agreed to Julio's terms, and both sides went to their corners. One of the twin's gym friends procured an authentic bell with a three-minute timer and sat down with it at a nearby table.

Oliver was below the ring, stretching himself out and moving his body while everyone gave him some last-minute advice.

"Remember! [Pain] is weakness leaving THE body, except for when YOU inflict it upon your [Numerous Enemies]!" Bradley stated. "In that [Specific Scenario], pain is YOUR best friend other than [Myself]!"

"I'll try and keep that in mind..." Oliver appreciated the effort, if nothing else.

Next came Rebecca, who was coping with her uncomfortable environment by pulling the collar of her turtleneck halfway over her face like a mask and limiting her field of vision by pulling the visor down over her eyes.

"Have faith and be strong, soldier...!" She tried sounding motivational, but the sad reality was that her mousy voice made this impossible, and the collar muffling her speech didn't help. "At the end of the day, what even is an enemy? I'll tell you; an enemy is nothing more than a meat piñata for your fists to crack open, that's what! Only upon its smashing may you claim the red candy of victory from within."

Oliver had to give Rebecca credit for somehow consistently giving weirder advice than Bradley. He was also starting to wonder what the fuck was up with these books of hers, assuming that was a quote. If it was, then did that mean a human hand actually wrote something that cringeworthy? Because if Oliver ever saw that line in something he was reading, he'd be tempted to introduce the book to the nearest dumpster fire.

These silly words had a different effect when coming from a cute and socially awkward girl trying her best, however. Oliver was simple like that, and her earnest attempt at being supportive earned a smile from him.

"I'm hoping neither of us cracks anything open, but I'll sure as hell fight like I'm trying to, thanks," he laughed, his gratitude causing Rebecca to shrink out of embarrassment.

"They must care a lot about you to go this far," Stacy expressed while watching Juan climbing into the ring, still fuming from Oliver's attempt at psychological warfare. "Even if they've jumped to some wild conclusions, at least they mean well."

"They always mean well," Mia sighed, rubbing her right wrist in frustration. "But good intentions don't make them any less annoying. At the point in my life where I'm done with their overprotective bullshit, and I just want a little payback, sí? Not that a little pain ever taught those two idiotas to think twice before doing stupid shit, but hey, I'll take what I can get."

Stacy smiled softly, her eyes turning far away from Mia, Oliver, and the boxing gym's chaos. "That's just how it is with older siblings, I guess. Can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em."

"Not sure if I'd go that far, but close enough..." Mia nodded along absently. "You ready to go, Ollie? Don't have much to say in the way of pep talk that you haven't already heard, but if you're in the market for another quick fix-"

Having just finished his stretching, Oliver took Mia up on her offer before she finished her sentence. This was a quick peck on the lips affair but left him satisfied enough for now. Stacy rolled her eyes in amusement while Rebecca averted hers. Bradley only nodded in approval over how easy this was becoming for Oliver.

"Don't mind if I do," he said after the fact. "Never really believed you can have too much of a good thing."

"No? Might have to put that to the test later on tonight..." Mia teased, succeeding in getting him to blush and smiling because of it. "First things first, however. Fuck him up, mi amor."

"You got it," Oliver used the small set of stairs beside the ring's corner to ascend, ignoring a sarcastic comment from Stacy regarding how sickly sweet the new couple were and how fast their public displays of affection would grow old.

Something happened to Oliver as soon as his eyes met Juan's and his boots touched the canvas. He felt the danger running down the back of his neck to the bottom of his spine, the greatest warning he'd been given by Hyper Reflexes since he'd bought the skill. It usually only warned him when he was in immediate harm, so it was surprising to see it activate just from someone's presence alone.

It was hard for his trashy weeb brain not to think of someone in an anime releasing their power level, spiritual pressure, ki, or whatever you wanted to call it. Oliver felt he'd severely underestimated Juan until now and intuited that he was a more significant threat than any of yesterday's training partners.

Even so, Oliver wouldn't allow himself to project weakness in the face of this unsettling truth. His determination to be done with all this fighting business overshadowed his fear of Juan's power. He stared him down unflinchingly as they met in the middle of the ring to perform a customary gesture of good faith- a quick tap of their gloved fists against each other.

"Gonna enjoy this, hermanito," Juan growled at him as their fists collided, snarling and showing off his teeth. "Was gonna take pity on you and take care of this quick and easy-like, but no. You just had to go and piss me off, didn't you, pendejo?"

"It was just a little good luck kiss," Oliver shot back. "Not my fault you've got a sister complex."

"Sister com-" Juan repeated, looking morally revolted. "Hah! Yeah, no. That shit's fucked, ese. Nothing weird about it, just don't wanna see that shit as her big brother, you feel me?"

"You're gonna have to get used to it. Even If I lose here and you guys really do start popping up everywhere to annoy us, do you think I'll stop being affectionate with her on your account?"

Juan looked even more pissed than he already did after this latest round of taunting, but Oliver was surprised to see him take a deep breath and lessen some of his tension. "...C'mere for a sec," he beckoned Oliver closer with his glove. "Nah, man, for real. Not trying to do any dirty shit, the match won't start until we're in our corners. Just want a word."

Oliver was immediately skeptical of this proposition but wagered Juan wasn't stupid enough to cheat in a straightforward competition between men. He cautiously stepped forward as the taller man leaned in and placed his fist on Oliver's shoulder, whispering into his ear.

"Look, hermanito. I'm still pissed as all hell at you for tripping all over the place with your big fuckin' cojones, but I ain't a bad guy, sí? I get what you're doing. You wanna look cool in front of Mimi, the chicas, and... that... fuckin' robot mime or whatever the fuck. I know what it's like to be drunk on yourself and get carried away more than anyone else in the room, so in the interest of fairness, what say I cut you a deal, mn?"

"You offering to throw the match?" Oliver asked.

"Fuck no," he cackled. "Thought I'd offer to let you save some face and hit around me a couple of times before I knock your ass out cold! I'll even pretend like it hurts! How about that? Sweet deal, right? Right? All you gotta do is hook me up with the blonde senorita's number, and-"

Oliver swatted away Juan's hand in a sudden fit, angered by the suggestion on multiple fronts. "Yeah, no. Not happening."

"The fuck, man? Shows what I get for trying to let you off easy!" Juan took offense and slammed his fists together out of rage, the power behind the simple gesture resulting in a massive echoing burst. "Now I'm really not gonna hold back, pendejo!"

The mental image of Juan hitting on Stacy pissed Oliver off, and he had no illusions as to why. All it did was light an even bigger fire under his ass, fueling Oliver's enthusiasm to inflict violence upon his person.

He had an uphill battle ahead of him, but the time had finally arrived. Oliver returned to his corner, giving the friendly faces cheering him on an obligatory nod. Mia blew him a kiss, giving him one final blast of love and support before the bell finally rang and the battle began.

The BGM swapped to a more aggressive remix of yesterday's combat music, this version much more fitting for a boss encounter.

Oliver activated Weakness Exploit - Pain to see his best course of action from the get-go. Juan's biggest personal weakness was his left eye, unsurprisingly. It was signified by big red crosshairs larger than all the others. He also had one on the right side of his rib cage and sternum, giving Oliver plenty of options.

He was already planning to stick to Juan's literal blind spot, anyway, but Oliver knew he'd have to do this as carefully as he could. It was the most obvious strategy, and even an idiot like Juan knew what to look out for.

Oliver cautiously approached the center of the ring, an effort wasted as soon as Juan barreled ahead like a raging bull. He hadn't expected someone so big to charge in so fast, and a big red-gloved fist was headed straight for his face the moment he was in striking range.

Oliver's Hyper Reflexes and Fancy Footwork tried their best to alert and get him out of danger before it was too late, but it was. The match started off on the worst possible note- Oliver took a massive right hook to the side of his face. The impact created a vast bursting sound as the glove sank into his cheek, sending him backward and nearly knocking him off his feet.

Physical Conditioning softened the blow, making Oliver afraid of how badly this would've been if he hadn't upgraded it. The searing and explosive pain shook Oliver's confidence and morale harder than anything in his practice matches, but he hung on despite it.

Nothing I can't handle for Mia's sake...

Oliver was used to the odds being stacked against him- he was just shocked by how fast it all happened. He bit down on his mouthguard, regaining his balance. The ringing in his ears died down enough to hear some of the boxers laughing at him. Annoying as they were, he had bigger problems on his hands.

Juan sought to make the most of Oliver's brief staggering, starting a flurry of well-practiced jabs. The wicked smile on his face was nowhere to be seen after the first one missed. Oliver successfully craned his neck to the side just enough for it to whizz harmlessly past him. He countered with a quick jab to Juan's eyepatch, forgoing honor and hitting the weakness to see how much this would even hurt him.

"Ouch," Stacy winced. "Low blow."

Bradley raised his fist. "To a [True Warrior], there is NO such thing!"

"Couldn't have said it better myself..." Rebecca nodded meekly with militaristic approval as Mia watched with a subtle smirk.

"Mierda! You little shit!" Juan yelled, teaching Oliver that the pain wasn't negligible. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough to make Juan recoil or stop his assault. It also angered him, ensuring his jabs kept on coming at a relentless pace.

Oliver had to stretch his evasive talents to their limit to keep up, often succeeding only in making them miss by a few inches. Fighting Juan at this distance was a death sentence. He had to engage him on his own terms and make some space between them.

Fancy Footwork did its job, tripping Juan up by thinking he was strafing left only to move backward and prepare for his next move. Juan was ruled by his powerful emotions, making him easy to predict. If a problem couldn't be solved by charging in recklessly, it was a problem he was uninterested in solving.

Oliver spent most of the first round testing how easily he could bait Juan into moving how and where he wanted him. The results were quite positive. Juan was particularly susceptible to feints and couldn't follow along the greatest when Oliver broke out his tricky foot movements.

He could consistently get in and out nearly whenever he wanted, though not without maintaining immense concentration. Juan's punches came fast and heavy, even when Oliver broke through his guard and came in for the counter. Getting countered during one of his own was always a threat, forcing him to pick and choose his opportunities, even giving some up here and there just to keep Juan guessing.

Juan's two other weaknesses weren't much use to Oliver. He hit them both on multiple occasions to get a feel for them, but his punching power wasn't enough to capitalize on them. The sternum barely registered when he hit it, and the rib cage was the same even with the bonus damage Weakness Exploit - Pain was supposedly adding. Oliver got the impression that if he really worked at it and focused his efforts, he'd eventually tenderize them enough to do some damage; it just wasn't a viable strategy when winning was his goal.

Like I thought, it's gonna have to be the eye. Better to save the other two for mixups...

This wasn't ideal. Going after Juan's eye was the most predictable strategy, and as Oliver expected, he was well used to compensating for his shortcomings. As soon as Oliver dipped into Juan's blind spot, what he was doing became incredibly obvious.

Juan either had to throw out a random attack in that direction or disengage to avoid Oliver's maneuvering. He chose the latter more often than not, as Oliver could easily bait a punch out and strike right after. The most reliable method of scoring hits on Juan's eye was the riskiest and most inconvenient one- engaging him, dodging like crazy, and going for straightforward counters.

Juan got hit far more often than Oliver in the first round, but every hit Juan landed was devastating by comparison. Every slammed fist to the face or blow to his side left Oliver reeling and questioning whether or not he really wanted to keep up with Brawln as a side hobby once this Heart Lock had finally been resolved. He had decent fun yesterday when he was on a winning streak, but man, getting hurt sucked big time.

Not allowing himself to lose out to these negative thoughts, he thought of Mia in his corner every time he was hit. Among the many properties love had as a drug, painkilling was a big one. It reliably helped get him through the worst of it until the bell rang and the first round was up.

"Fuck," Juan exhaled. "You're really making me work for this... what the shit, ese?"

"That's what you get for underestimating me," Oliver replied before heading back to his corner, reclining against it.

He didn't need a break just yet because of Physical Conditioning, but Oliver could see warning signs on the horizon. The energy he was burning through in this match was way higher than anything he'd done since getting the skill. It took a ton of stamina to consistently act on Hyper Reflexes every time he received an alert. While Fancy Footwork helped him do so efficiently more often than not, it didn't completely mitigate the problem.

It was hard to say if he'd get worn out. Oliver didn't know how deep his stamina reserves actually went, but it was another risk he'd have to account for.

"Doing solid," Mia rubbed one of Oliver's shoulders after getting up on the canvas behind the ropes. "Just keep doing what you're doing, mi amor. Keep going for the eye."

"That's the plan," Oliver nodded along. "Any counter-arguments?" He asked his other leading advisor.

Bradley was on his opposite side, using the towel he'd brought to dab at random spots on Oliver's forehead. He wasn't sweating, but it was the thought that counts. "For NOW, no. But! You should BE prepared to [React Accordingly] SHOULD [Juan Rosas] adjust his [Strategy] in the FOLLOWING round!"

Bradley pointed to the opposite corner, where Juan received advice from his significantly brighter counterpart. Oliver couldn't make out what they were saying from here, but he could already tell it wouldn't be good. Julio's eyes locked onto Oliver's as he stared, the two sharing an intense moment of recognition between them until he broke it off to continue explaining something or other to his stupid little brother.

"Feels like he can see straight through me..." Oliver observed.

"Don't let him get to you, Ollie," Mia pushed on the small of his back, forcing him to step forward in time with the bell. "You got this."

The second round kicked off a lot slower than the first. Juan didn't thunderously bulldoze ahead this time; instead, he opted to advance steadily with his guard up. Oliver slowly made his way closer, uncertain where Juan would take this or what advice he'd been given. He wanted to wait this out and see what he would do, but time wasn't on his side, and Oliver elected to make the first move.

He slipped to Juan's right and was met with an immediate punch hammering into his gut. It was so instantaneous that it was like the punch was right there waiting for him, and Oliver purposefully impaled himself on it. Juan followed up with a left hook while still shocked from the first punch, landing the blow and going for another.

The crowd winced in expectation, save for Mia, who bit her lip yet refused to look away.

It took a lot of sheer willpower to shrug off getting the wind knocked out of him for the first time in his life on top of getting punched in the face, but Oliver had plenty to spare. He slipped away before the third punch in the chain could connect, successfully disengaging. Juan tried following after, but Oliver was faster and focused on giving him the run around until he had a few seconds to think the situation through.

Not one to keep his cards close to his chest, Juan pressed the advantaged, taunting with a wolf's grin, "What's the matter, cobarde? You scared? Huh? Huh?!"

Oliver ignored him as best he could, shutting him out and retreating into his mind. There's no way that was just a lucky punch. Julio must've noticed something. I need to test it out and see if it happens again, just gotta be careful...

Standing his ground, Oliver went in for another feint and narrowly avoided the same thing happening twice. Worse, it didn't matter which side he went for. Juan could reliably keep up with any attempt at misdirection, rendering his whole strategy null and void.

Upon closer inspection, Oliver intuited how Juan was pulling it off. His feet were being watched intently, looking for the precise moment he'd stop and attack. Knowing this, Oliver mixed things up enough to get in a few punches, but it wasn't working as well as before.

The trade-off wasn't worth it. Juan was still landing occasional punches at the same rate while Oliver was taking heavier damage. He had two options. Continue, or follow Bradley's advice and adapt.

But how?

Juan broke through his guard mid-thought, lunging forward with a huge right hook. Oliver had been so distracted that he couldn't react in time. He had to get out of there, but the cycle would keep repeating even if he did.

There has to be a way to turn this around, damn it... come on... come on...!!

"Ah! That's... not good...!!" Rebecca shivered as she watched the attack land. It turned out that watching violence unfold in real life was a lot more distressing than reading about it in her gory sci-fi military novels.

"He was doing so good until now..." Stacy felt frustration on Oliver's behalf, resisting the urge to bite her nails.

"Still is," Mia smiled. "Watch."

Stacy and Rebecca were amazed as Oliver stood there, seemingly unaffected by Juan's latest punch. The blow looked strong enough to sweep him off his feet, yet not only did Oliver tank it, but he also successfully fired back a big punch of his own that forced Juan to let out a gasp of pain. Any excitement the girls felt was short-lived, however, as Juan responded with another hook... which Oliver yet again tanked, hit him in the eye, and remained where he was.

"What the fuck am I looking at?" Stacy asked, entirely out of her depth. "How is he just standing there?"

"Ah!" Rebecca gasped, figuring it out. "T-The sound!"

"What?"

"Listen closer!"

Mia smirked, and Bradley stoically crossed his arms as realization dawned upon the blonde.

"There's... no sound when he's getting hit..."

"Precisely!" Bradley confirmed. "Because...?"

"He's not getting hit...!" Stacy was so surprised she let out a laugh.

"Correcta," Mia hummed with pride.

Oliver's conclusion when the oncoming punch was about to connect was the simplest one he could've come to: don't get hit. Just that philosophy alone wasn't enough to save him, but when taken to the extreme, Oliver was able to tie the boxing knowledge his level two skill gave him and combine it with Hyper Reflexes to create an advanced evasion technique that he totally wasn't ripping off from one of the boxing anime he'd referenced watching in the past.

He was waiting until the last second before Juan's punch connected to roll his neck along with it, making it look as if he'd been struck when it was more like pouring water on oil. No contact. The only problem was how inhumanely hard it was to consistently pull off.

Oliver had to completely trust in his Hyper Reflexes and ignore his fear, suppressing any and all attempts by his common sense to shuffle out of the way and remain where he was until moving in just the right way at just the right time. It was about as safe as balancing on a razor's edge, but what other option did he have?

"Un-fuckin'-believable, pendejo...!" Juan could only respect the insanity he was witnessing, his wild smile twitching with sincerity. "You really think you can keep this up?"

"Can't afford not to," Oliver managed to spit out after neck-rolling another hit and countering. He relished the feeling of his glove sinking into Juan's face; every ounce of pain inflicted serving him a dose of sweet satisfaction.

Julio slammed his fist into the canvas over on the sidelines. "Mix it up, idiota! Don't just stand there and let him keep doing that!"

"Fuck off, hermano! He's gonna slip up, just watch!" Juan was having too much fun to listen to his brother's advice. The most optimal move would've been to try and disengage or work on Oliver's body, but that wouldn't have been as fun as catching him with his timing off. He stayed right where he was, enjoying his game of whack-a-mole under the assumption that the mole wouldn't be so persistent.

Oliver kept up the act, rolling his neck repeatedly, pushing himself to the limit of what should've been possible. The only thing keeping him going was the thought of victory and what he would do with Mia tonight after claiming it. He tried putting some of this passion into his counterpunches, and it must've had an effect because Juan was forced to reevaluate his position after they'd been trading blows for half a minute.

He cursed loudly, backstepping after the latest passionate blow to his left eye. This was the first time Oliver had forced the bigger man to break away, and he wouldn't let him do it without pressing his advantage for all it was worth.

Oliver stepped in, unleashing a reckless combo right at the weakness. One of these blows left Juan staggered, allowing Oliver the chance to really push himself and treat him like one of the punching bags hanging around the gym. He grunted as he went along, trying to compensate for his lack of strength through sheer tenacity,

Juan stumbled back another step and then another. Oliver had to go harder. Harder. He kept punching and punching until Juan, at last, buckled. Oliver would've scored a down if not for the rope. The elastic bounced back against Juan's weight, saving him from Oliver's latest attack thanks to their height difference and Oliver's comparatively shorter arms.

Sadly, the bell rang for the second time before he could push harder. Oliver was left feeling confident in his chances but dissatisfied that he couldn't have kept going. He just needed a little more, and then maybe... maybe...