Love Addict's RPG Ch. 56 (Patreon)

The differences between Juan and Julio were never more apparent than when he stood opposite Oliver on the battlefield. Julio seemingly stood much taller than his brother, his imposing silhouette cutting a dashing figure not unlike a matador waiting patiently for the kill. Though he had only one fist to work with, the air of confidence Julio projected implied it was more than he needed.

Hyper Reflexes was going crazy the entire time Oliver stared Julio down from across the ring, constantly hammering in how bad of an idea this was and illustrating the power difference between him and his brother. Given the bad vibes Julio emanated, Oliver didn't know how he was supposed to approach, so it was a blessing and a curse when Julio started coming closer on his own. Every step was filled with purpose, his stride itself oozing self-assured victory.

He acted as if this fight was over before he'd even thrown a punch, and that pissed Oliver off on some deeper level. It didn't matter how strong Julio was; he was still underestimating him hot off his victory over Juan. The disrespect and Julio's calm demeanor subtly influenced Oliver, making him overeager to land the first blow.

After a quick check with Weakness Exploit - Pain, Oliver learned that Julio's stomach was his closest thing to a weak point, being the only red crosshair icon he had on him, left-hand pinky notwithstanding. He stepped in, deciding it would have to suffice as he shot out a jab to test the water and see how wide the gap was between them.

Oliver was punched in the face faster than Hyper Reflexes could even warn him.

Julio's fist zipped back and forth with the speed of a maelstrom, hitting almost as hard as Juan and without a shred of wasted movement to boot. Oliver only barely managed to get out of the way of the follow-up but fell victim to the third attack in the chain and then the fourth.

"Can't even keep up with this much?" Julio observed. "Embarrassing."

Oliver recognized this for the transparent attempt at taunting that it was, at the very least showing he was less susceptible than Juan by resisting the temptation to prove Julio wrong as fast as possible. His general presence already had enough of a psychological effect on him. Oliver refused to play into his opponent's hand more than he could help it.

He tried getting in some quick hits with his typical in-and-out style, but Julio was much more resistant to such tactics than his brother. Julio followed along with every move Oliver made before he even made it, waiting for him in advance with a counterpunch and sometimes even a counter-counterpunch on the rare occasion Oliver thought he'd managed to get ahead of him.

Fighting Julio was nothing short of demoralizing. On the rare occasions that Oliver's punches managed to hit, they practically bounced right off of him. It was like fighting a walking brick wall that could hit you with one of its bricks.

Julio had him pressed against the rope in no time, putting Oliver in his most precarious position yet. Stacy's advice that won him the victory was no longer relevant when fighting an opponent of this caliber. He had to come up with something- fast. This was sink-or-swim territory, and Oliver already had one foot in the deep end.

...Why not sink even deeper? He thought, a wicked idea coming to him. This wouldn't fly in an actual boxing match, but it wasn't cheating, either. It was just so far out of left field that it might prove wild enough to trip Julio up.

The trick was going to be doing it all in one smooth motion. If he fucked up, it'd leave him in a terrible position even worse than the one he was already in. No reason not to try.

Oliver purposefully fell to his knees, tucked himself into a ball, and used the height disparity between himself and Julio to his advantage by rolling forward between his legs. He then unfurled himself like a Jack in the Box, the pain from unscrunching his bruised body so fast like that nigh excruciating.

"Fuck are you playing at, you-" Julio was utterly taken aback by this unconventional strategy. He pivoted immediately, acting on reflexes and playing into Oliver's hands for the first time. A hard punch to the gut awaited him when he got there, delivering a noticeable chunk of damage and staggering him enough for a few follow-up attacks.

"Not playing at anything," Oliver reminded him. "I'm trying to win."

If the acting referee cared about this flagrantly bullshit maneuver, he dared not express it in light of how wild Oliver's antics had wound up the crowd. Many of Julio's friends barked and brayed at him, some even shouting words of encouragement to Oliver and telling him to keep it up. It'd been ages since a spar this fun happened at Contact Mike's, and even the employees were joining in on the fun.

Likewise, the people in his own corner were eating it up.

"I cannot believe he just did that," Stacy laughed.

Rebecca nodded approvingly at what she perceived as a display of tactical genius, mumbling, "Dad always says that the move that wins the war is almost always the one your opponent least expects."

"Wise words from a PRESUMABLY wise MAN, [Rebecca Bergman]!"

Rebecca shuffled around behind Mia, still uncomfortable from being addressed by Bradley but also not one to miss a chance to speak highly of her father. "H-He's, um, the greatest strategist I know... if my dad was in his corner, Oliver would've won a thousand times over by now..."

"Doing good so far without needing your dad's advice. He's just gotta keep it up," Mia said, then ascended the first step to yell at Oliver and make sure he had the right takeaway. "You got this, mi amor. Keep him on his toes and guessing! Stupider you get, the less he'll see you coming!"

Oliver didn't need to be told twice. He was already brainstorming creative ways to trip Julio up, even while pounding his midsection into the ropes.

This state of advantage didn't last for long. Julio recovered from the shock after a few seconds and landed a few counters, relieving himself of Oliver's advance for the time being. His stomach hurt mildly in the aftermath, an annoying reminder that he'd neglected the ab machine for too long. He wasn't sure how Oliver had flagged his fatal flaw quite so fast, but now he knew he was aiming for it, and Julio would have to keep that in consideration.

It's too bad for him that Oliver didn't plan on letting Julio consider much of anything beyond figuring out his next move. Oliver drew on his purchased boxing skills to pull out all sorts of unconventional tricks. His movements became erratic and hard to follow, Fancy Footwork doing its part by making these a little faster than without.

Oliver was pleased to discover that Julio was not quite as threatening as first impressions led him to believe. Sure, he was still much more dangerous than Juan and had greater overall defense, but he was also somewhat slower and had less punching power. Things might've been different if he had both hands to defend himself with, but as things stood, Julio's most significant advantage was his analytical mind and powers of observation.

All he had to do to get rid of that was feed Julio so much nonsensical data that it clogged up his system and lowered his reaction times. The downside to this strategy was that, based on the crowd's reaction, Oliver was sure he looked like a mental patient.

He danced around the ring with Julio, sparing no regard for his tired body or his increased stamina consumption. Oliver forced himself out of his habits, throwing himself off balance on multiple occasions, exaggerated his actions to the point of appearing cartoonish, and it was working. Granted, Julio wasn't easily fooled and still dealt steady damage over time- it just wasn't enough to contend with Oliver's output.

The bell rang right as Oliver landed another gut punch. Julio almost fell forward until he caught himself at the last moment. The two locked eyes, speaking with their spirits until they came to a silent understanding. Much to the delight of the crowd of boxers, both fighters continued duking it out and refused the call to return to their corners, the ref doing nothing to stop them.

Stacy watched in total amazement at the fighting spirit on display, looking away for only a split second to address Mia. "You not even gonna try and stop them, or what?"

"Mn, no," Mia hummed. "Think this stopped being about boxing a while ago. Now I think it'd be better to let them ride it out, sí?"

Stacy laughed mildly. "God forbid men try talking out their differences instead of punching each other in the face, but hey, can't say I'm not loving the show..."

"Personally, it's a bit hard to watch..." Mia sighed.

"Yeah, well, pretty sure that's normal? It'd be weirder if you wanted to watch your boyfriend get the shit beaten out of him, right?"

"Nah," Mia shook her head and laughed. "Meant more like Ollie's too fucking hot up there, and I can't take it much longer. That, and I really don't want to unpack whatever it says about me that I'm low-key getting off on him beating up my asshole brothers."

Mia's candidness surprised Stacy enough to look away from the fight and closer at her. Her face was flushed, she had a smitten look in her eyes, and if Stacy didn't know any better, she'd have thought Mia was on the verge of drooling.

"...All these years, and you're still a total freak, aren't you?" Stacy asked after another mild laugh, her voice trailing off and full of nostalgia.

Mia smiled suggestively at that and looked in Stacy's direction, "You saying you can't see where I'm coming from?"

Stacy didn't consider herself a very sexual person. She had about as much desire as any other woman; they just weren't intrinsic to her happiness, and she'd acquired an understandable aversion to the thought of acting on them insofar as involving another person. It wouldn't have dawned on her to look at things from such a perspective if Mia hadn't explicitly pointed it out, but now that she had...

"I suppose," she hummed. "Oliver was never that bad looking to begin with, aside from the glaring flaws I helped patch up, but..."

"It's the confidence, sí?" Mia continued smiling, causing Stacy to realize how much she enjoyed gushing about her boyfriend if it allowed them to converse without any sarcastic jabs at each other.

"Partially. For me, I think it's more about the effort. He got off his ass and actually started trying, and that goes a lot farther than most guys would think. I'm not saying that I suddenly think he's hot or anything, but I can't say I don't see where you're coming from."

"So you're not saying you think he's not, but you're also explicitly going out of your way to not deny it," Mia pointed out.

Stacy shrugged. "If that's how you want to interpret it, nothing's stopping you, hon. You do you."

An unexpected voice from someone who'd been biding her tongue this entire conversation spoke up with all the grace and eloquence of someone dropping a plate of wet spaghetti on the floor and then rolling around in it.

"I... um... I think he's hot..." Rebecca mumbled, her inner thoughts surfacing and becoming outer ones. She only realized she'd accidentally said that out loud when Mia turned around and gave her a funny look- not angry, but amused.

"Ah! Um, I... I'm sorry, I didn't... it's just... Oliver is so cool right now... even though he's shorter and weaker than his opponents, he's fighting like a genetically perfected Ubermensch Marine... also, he was really nice to me the other day, and also... also..." Rebecca just kept talking against her better judgment, feeling as if she were digging herself a deeper and deeper hole before finally shutting down and slumping her posture in self-defeat.

Mia was on the verge of comforting her friend when the fox lying in wait within the henhouse finally played his hand. Bradley smiled a sparkly smile. While Oliver was busy fighting Julio, this was another chance to prove himself as the top-tier wingman he claimed to be.

"Not to worry, [Awkward Nerd Girl]!" Bradley smiled and adjusted the collar of his tracksuit instead of the bowtie he usually wore. "Oliver has [Bigamist Inclinations]! There is MORE than enough of HIM to [Share]."

"Oh, I'm sure there is..." Stacy scoffed and rolled her eyes, wholly dismissing the topic.

Rebecca's brain couldn't keep up with this revelation nor its implications. It was all she could do to mumble, "I... ah... g-good to know...?"

"...Did he actually say that?" Mia asked calmly.

"He doesn't have TO! We're [Best Friends], I know him BETTER than he KNOWS himself!"

"Mn," Mia nodded along and rubbed her chin. "Interesting."

Stacy raised a brow over Mia not immediately being put off by this information. "Seriously, girl? You're that much of a freak?"

"I like what I like," Mia smiled thinly in response.

"Have some self-respect," Stacy laughed.

"Who needs self-respect when I can have sexual gratification?" Mia asked, to which Stacy had no counter.

The topic was then dropped as everyone resumed focus on the match, but it wasn't forgotten. The seed was planted in their minds, and Bradley had done his job as wingman supreme. It didn't mean much to Rebecca, who wasn't registered as a heroine, and Stacy was far too early along for it to matter, but Mia...? Bradley noticed the potential earlier and was pleased to find out his assumption was correct.

Oliver was going to have fun with this one... as soon as he finally managed to finish this damn fight of his, that is.

They all got sidetracked so easily despite the thrilling finale unfolding before their eyes because nothing major happened for several minutes after the bell rang. Oliver and Julio continued their back and forth, trading blows and counters whenever they could get them. Without the timer or the breaks between rounds to hold them back, both fighters were rapidly draining themselves of energy.

As this whole affair stretched on longer and longer, there came a point where neither Oliver nor Julio could keep up the fancy tricks. After nearly fifteen minutes of continual fighting, every muscle in Oliver's body begged him to stop, and Julio wasn't in the best shape either. His motions were no longer as effortless as they'd been in the beginning, making him much less intimidating all around.

They'd somehow wound up in the center of the ring together, and all pretenses were gone. The two were punching each other back and forth, holding onto consciousness with all they had, like they were afraid they'd never regain it. Oliver kept hammering his opponent in the gut while Julio targeted his face.

This was all they could do. Oliver's only hope at this point was to hope he had what it took to stay standing a little longer than Julio. Both of them were on the verge of falling over; the only question was who would be first.

"Give up already," Julio growled, his once calm voice now coated in a thick layer of irritation.

"If I was gonna give up, I already would've!" Oliver retorted, slamming his weak fist into Julio's abs for what must've been the hundredth time.

Julio ate the blow, wincing because of it and then shouting with his counter punch, "You're on your last legs!"

The counter slammed into Oliver's swollen cheek, hurting him but not breaking him. "Yeah, and I just got done kicking your brother's ass! What's your excuse?"

"A partially-severed pinky finger, pendejo!" Julio almost buckled after Oliver evened the score, clinging on despite it all.

This was going nowhere fast.

Both men let out an exhausted grunt as they struck one another in unison, testing their wills. Oliver found it difficult to keep his eyes open, as swollen as they were. The crowd had simmered down their excitement as the fast-paced, nonstop action winded down and became a grueling slog, but that wasn't to say they were no longer entertained. Everyone understood this would end in a matter of seconds, and the tension was through the roof.

As Oliver gathered up his energy for his next attack, he noticed a strange look on Julio's face. Like there was an itch he couldn't scratch, or maybe he was trying to smile but was woefully inexperienced at the act.

In a waste of breath, Julio let out a soft laugh, then spoke quiet enough that only Oliver could hear him.

"Pendejo or not, I gotta say... didn't think you'd push me this far. Didn't even think you'd handle Juan, honestly... but... you're full of surprises. Thought Mimi was crazy at first, acting crazy over a little runt like you... that, or she just had low standards because of the way she used to look. Now, though? Think I get it."

"Yeah? Good. I hope this means you won't pull anything when I win." Oliver took the compliment but refused to lower his guard.

"Cocky son of a bitch," Julio clicked his tongue. "You know why I had to step in when you won, sí?"

"You're her brother, and you care about her," Oliver sighed. "I get it."

Julio grew quiet, the half-formed smile replaced with a distant frown.

"Don't know if you do. Mimi's had it real rough, ese. Ain't always been so cute. Used to have real trouble expressing herself, too. Never really fit in, never had anyone in her corner aside from her two little friends and her brothers..."

Oliver was taken aback by the suggestion of what it might be like to have a younger sister like Mia. It helped put things in perspective and made him think about what he would've done if he were in their shoes.

"I get that mi hermano and I might've jumped the gun, but all we want... all I want... is to make sure she doesn't get burned."

"...Accident or not, do you really still think I'd do that to her?" Oliver asked, clenching his fists.

"...Can't say," Julio said after a moment's deliberation. "Not a fortune teller, I just know red flags when I see 'em. Only thing I know for sure is that you'd do anything to make her happy, wouldn't you? Starting to think that might be enough for you two... I just... needed to see it for myself..."

Julio closed his eyes, sucked in a breath of sweaty boxing gym air, and readied his right fist. "So go on, then. Show me one last time how hard you'll fight for mi hermana. Reckon one more go at it'll either get it through my thick head or knock you flat on your ass, and we'll go from there, sí?"

"Damn it..." Oliver sighed and readied himself for the final attack. "I'm getting sick and tired of going back and forth on you guys. You make it so hard to hate you."

Julio gave him a dry laugh like he'd heard that one before, and then both fighters summoned up everything they had without a word of warning. The two men screamed, all their feelings pouring into their fists as their hits landed. Brotherly love pounded Oliver in the face as romantic obsession hammered Julio in the gut.

The crowd gasped as the sound of the powerful impact burst from the ring. No one needed to be told this was the decisive blow- they felt it. Everyone was silent enough to hear a pin drop as they watched and waited for the aftermath.

For the last man standing.

Oliver staggered a few steps back on wobbly knees, his head ringing. This sucked. Everything hurt. His head. His sides. His arms, everything. Even his vision faded in and out, whereas breathing felt like he was sucking in knives with every breath.

No matter how hard they tried to convince him they needed to be shut, Oliver commanded his eyelids to remain open. He couldn't afford to look away. It would be his loss the moment he did. His teeth tore into his mouthguard, watching Julio as the mountain of a man refused to budge in the wake of Oliver's final attack.

It looked like Julio's bruised stomach didn't bother him at all. He stood there, calm, still, and unmoving as ever. The sight was enough to make Oliver question his decision to not give in and break under pressure, his spirit breaking as the seconds passed. All that kept him going was a faint hope that his eyes were blind to the truth and that Julio was much worse off than he appeared.

Oliver's hope was not misplaced.

Julio coughed several agonizingly long seconds after Oliver landed his final punch. He watched as the big man's eyes flickered, his knees hobbled, and he fell halfway down on one of them. Things weren't immediately apparent as to which way this would turn out. He hadn't collapsed just yet. Oliver was terrified that Julio would somehow drag himself upright and continue on.

It would only take one more punch to knock Oliver out, and he was frozen in place as Julio struggled to stay in the game. Eventually, Oliver's worst fears came to life. It wasn't over. Julio raised his glove, locked his eyes with Oliver's, and...

Nothing.

By the skin of his teeth, Julio remained standing with his fist extended towards Oliver. It was a little embarrassing how long it took him to realize what was happening, but when he did, he gave his opponent what he wanted. Oliver thrust out his fist and bumped Julio's.

Julio closed his eyes and smiled for the first time since they'd met, falling to his knees. "Welcome... to the family, hermanito..."

"...Thanks, hermano." Oliver smiled back at him, watching as Julio collapsed and fell facedown against the canvas. There was no need for anyone to perform a countdown. This was it. Julio had been fully knocked out, and victory was his.