[Chapter 25: Adam Howells]
"Hello, I'm Adam Howells. Let me show you around. The Black Vipers boss said there's nothing here that needs hiding from you."
"Hi, I'm John Leighton, a friend of Allen's. I don't have any particular agenda, just here to check things out, but I'm not familiar with this place. Why don't you tell me which spots are worth visiting?"
Looking at the young man in front of him, easily over 6 feet tall, broad-shouldered, with a serious expression, John smiled warmly and replied.
As Adam continued introducing the place, John learned that besides the two floors above ground, there was also a basement level.
But the basement was only open to the core members of the Black Vipers. The people seen earlier were mostly peripheral members; the real key players hung out downstairs.
Thanks to John's smooth conversation skills, he and Adam grew quite close -- of course, Adam had to be willing, too.
...
Through their talk, John found out that Adam was also an orphan, basically raised by the Black Vipers from a young age. He was only 20 years old.
Just getting started in the scene, he had a clean record, which was rare. Don't let the size fool you -- he had just graduated from the University of California business school and was considered a bright student.
When Adam learned John was also an orphan and only 17 years old, his tone softened considerably -- maybe it was a shared sense of hardship.
Gotta say, these gangs had their act together -- raising and training their talent from a young age, emphasizing all-around development.
They first toured the training area on the first floor and around the premises; nothing too spectacular, but John's interest piqued when it came to the basement, where the real elite lived.
...
"Adam, let's check out the basement. There's not much to see upstairs anyway."
Adam eyed John skeptically. He knew the basement was the Black Vipers' stronghold, where the true elites worked. He wondered what was going through John's mind.
But remembering Allen's firm reassurance, Adam nodded and led John back up to the second floor, then to a nearby elevator.
It turned out the only way down to the basement was from the second-floor elevator. Pretty tight security. John couldn't help but wonder if they weren't worried about someone blocking the elevator entrance.
As they stepped into the elevator and it dinged, they arrived at the basement. The doors opened to the sound of loud thumping, shouting, and cheering.
...
Noticing John's puzzled look, Adam explained with a grin, "A couple of fighters are training. The others are probably just enjoying the show."
That piqued John's interest, so he quickly stepped out. The basement was a spacious area with some workout equipment, and right in the center was a boxing ring.
A crowd gathered around, cheering wildly as two fighters threw punches in a fierce, no-holds-barred match. Sweat flew everywhere.
John didn't push into the crowd; he and Adam stood back, watching. Adam's lips curled into a smirk while staring at the ring. John found that amusing, watching the scene with interest.
"Seems pretty intense!" John said with a chuckle after watching for a while.
"It's alright," Adam replied.
"Bam!"
Just then, a Mexican-American fighter fell to the mat. A big black fighter took advantage and landed a side kick to his head, knocking him out cold. Luckily, he was wearing a protective headguard, or it could've been serious.
The brown-skinned fighter tried to get up but stumbled a bit, then lay back down. Cheers erupted from around the ring.
At that moment, the tall black fighter on the ring started showing off, but his gaze quickly locked onto John and Adam.
John noticed the fighter eyeing them like they were fresh prey -- mainly focused on Adam.
"Hey, Adam, you wanna give it a shot?"
"Bob, come on, you're no match for me. We've gone through this a few times already -- aren't you tired of losing?"
...
As their voices carried, people around the ring realized John and Adam were standing nearby, calling out to them.
Several folks came over to greet Adam. John thought to himself, 'Looks like Adam is well-liked around here.'
"Hey, Adam, you made it."
"What are you up to, man?"
"Come on, Adam, show Bob what you got."
"Let's go, Adam!"
"Bob, quit whining -- you get schooled every time by Adam, isn't that enough?"
Well, listening to the crowd's jeering, Bob's face darkened with frustration.
"Adam, step up. This time I'm gonna take you down."
At Bob's challenge, Adam's expression turned cold. He nodded to John, saying he'd handle Bob first, then take him around. Adam took off his jacket, changed into his fight gear, and jumped into the ring.
The crowd surged around the ring again, some cheering for Bob, but the majority rooting for Adam.
John stood his ground, smiling as he watched their heated battle.
...
Listening to the crowd's cheers and the fighters' relentless attacks, John smiled to himself -- his guess was right: Adam was definitely more skilled than Bob.
Except for avoiding attacks to vital spots like the temples, throat, back of the head, and groin, the fighters used their full arsenal of punches and kicks. This was real fighting -- far more exciting than those boxing championships on TV.
Of course, since these were close allies sparring, they wore some protective gear.
Watching their moves, John started thinking about how he would respond in the ring himself -- without using magic, just testing his own fighting skills.
In his mind were the memories of the God of Magic, including the martial arts techniques from the magical world. In that world, not everyone could become a magician -- only about half made the cut.
Those who couldn't had to train their bodies like regular fighters, with special breathing methods and combat techniques. The magical world was no peaceful place.
Therefore, their fighting arts were battlefield-tested, designed for maximum damage.
To John, the martial arts from his memories were somewhat like those flying kung fu movies, producing incredible effects.
The God's memories also included those martial arts techniques, but he only trained when young before turning fully to magic. After all, magic ruled that world.
Not quite like the novels describing fighters achieving some mystical energy state, but the special environment still allowed the body to continuously strengthen.
John thought maybe, in this world, he could take those arts and make them even better.
*****
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