Act 1: Blue Ocean Pavilion - Chapter 31: Oscar vs. John

Act 1: Blue Ocean Pavilion - Chapter 31: Oscar vs. John

Oscar rubbed bruised areas of his body to alleviate the pain. The euphoria he felt from eating did a lot to mask the pain. Although it was a pasty mush, it still satisfied his stomach.

But from the corner of his eyes, Oscar noticed an irate John stampeding toward him. Oscar stood up and stared up at the behemoth's eyes. He had kicked the hornet's nest, and it was time to face the consequences. "I only ate my portion of the rations."

"There is a price to pay for your actions. You dared to attack me." John said menacingly as he cracked his knuckles.

John's towering figure made Oscar feel a slight bit of fear. He had been in a battle to the death before, but he was still not used to precarious situations like this. Oscar focused his mind and eyes on observing John's movements.

From what he gathered, the chains that bound their feet only allowed them to run in short strides; they made wide kicks impossible. The only possible ones were the short kicks, like when John kicked Oscar in the stomach. That was only possible since Oscar was on the floor, so there should be no openings here.

This restriction left the arms and hands as the only choices. Headbutting and body-slamming were still doable, but the arms were good for maintaining distance. John's arms were massive in width and length, well-matched with the rest of his goliath body.

Oscar internally cursed the Warden for giving him this task. He thought of the different ways to attack, but the height and reach differences were too much of a gap. It was nigh impossible to do this in his current condition, along with the chains dragging him down. 'I can't come up with anything. There's only one thing I can do.'

Boris, Serge, and Gritz became speechless at Oscar. That young boy was suicidal or arrogant as they saw Oscar stomp his feet and confront John from the front. It took them a long time to gather the strength to at least inconvenience the giant to get their rations and hurt him, which made John think twice about antagonizing them since if he got hurt, the others might take the opportunity to attack.

The cells always reached a balance where everyone was hostile, but none were willing to commit to a battle, which was why newcomers were the best prey for their first few months here.

If Oscar had remained quiet and built his strength, he would have been able to secure his share of rations and get a seat to live comfortably. It was a shame that he was too cocky. However, they didn't know that Oscar didn't have months; he only had a week, and he had to defeat John as soon as possible to enter Draven's tutelage.

John gnashed his teeth, making a strong abrasive grinding noise. This newcomer did not put him in his eyes at all. First was the surprise attack, and now this unyielding stance as though he could win.

Oscar sweated heavily down his back, but he avoided showing any nervousness. Finally, John was only a few feet in front of him.

In a fast attack, John swiped his heavy arms to Oscar's side. The blow landed with a thunderous boom, blowing the dust off the floors into a dust cloud, but to John's surprise, Oscar was not blown to the wall, remaining firm, with his two hands intersecting like a cross. John noticed sparks from where his attack met Oscar's defense.

"I noticed you mainly used the metal of your handcuffs to attack like a weapon. I imitated that for my defense." Oscar employed the cross defense to layer the metal cuffs on his hands to meet John's blow, lessening the damage to his hands and body. However, little droplets of blood trickled down from his wrists under the metal cuffs. Although his hands were safe from being crushed or broken, the weight of John's blows still made Oscar's metal cuffs scrape on his skin, tearing it slightly.

John unleashed another wide swing from the other side without wasting a beat. Oscar blocked it once again with his metal cross-defense.

This defense was so effective because of John's simple attacks. The handcuffs were also linked together like the feet, making it impossible to punch from both sides, so John could only bring both arms together in one direction. Thus, it was easy to predict and defend where John would strike.

John's agitation was apparent as Oscar blocked his blows. They started to be more wild and sloppy.

Oscar did not fare better. The skin under his handcuffs became viciously torn, and his hands numbed from the strength of John's blows. Continuing to defend in this manner would only harm him more.

At least John was too pissed off to notice these details. Oscar hoped for an opening to come soon. Then, John's next move was what he was counting on.

Frustrated, John lifted his hands above his head and gripped them tight like a human hammer. He opted to bring this farce to an end with a powerful blow from above.

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"Try to defend this, you arrogant scum!" Even if Oscar was able to block his attack, there was no way his legs would be able to hold it together. Either they'd collapse from the weight or break entirely.

A rapid bell started to ring like rattling teeth. The prisoners stood up from their seats and waited. Oscar shakingly stood up under the jeers of John.

"Guess you'll miss lunch today. Although you won't get any even if you were back on time."

Oscar ignored John's taunts and waited for the cell doors to open. The prison guard unlocked the cell and told everyone to line up.

The prisoners of the Abyss Prison went to the pits twice a day, once in the morning and in the afternoon. Oscar did not experience the morning shift because he arrived at the prison right after it had ended yesterday.

John went to the forefront, bumping into Oscar, who felt a shock of pain. His fractured shoulder was agitated from John's shove.

With a smirk, John went on, but Oscar followed behind him with a hateful gaze.

Their group went to the entrance to the Ataer Pits, where the guards distributed their pickaxes. Oscar looked down at his pickaxe and the stairs. In his current condition, far worse than yesterday's, there was no chance he could get back up.

He glared at John, who had his pickaxe on his shoulder, going down the stairs without care.

Oscar had a flash of inspiration. He looked at his pickaxe, then at John, and back at the pickaxe; his eyes held a dangerous glint. The pickaxe suddenly felt so powerful in his hands.

With his little remnants of strength, Oscar leaped down the stairs and stabbed his pickaxe into John's back.

"HUUK!" John felt something stab into him and lost his footing.

Oscar smiled maliciously as he stomped on the back of John's head. Using John as a makeshift ride, Oscar went down to the next level.

John did not know what had happened to him as he blacked out. The other prisoners, including Oscar's cellmates, did not know how to react. They looked on with blank expressions as no one was so daring to pull this off in the pits.

Oscar pulled out the pickaxe, staring down at John's unconscious body. The thoughts of revenge against this criminal, who had tortured and stolen from him, cascaded over his mind.

He held the pickaxe, preparing to strike. But his hands stopped. No matter how much the thought of killing John tormented Oscar, his hands would not move.

'Kill him.'

'Don't hesitate. Kill John!'

'He's just a lowly prisoner.'

The vengeful thoughts crept in. Oscar let out a cry and cast the pickaxe aside. Back then, with Greg, he had no choice. But here in prison, there was no need for pointless murder.

As vicious as John was, he never tried to kill Oscar. He merely beat him to a pulp. Even though the rules stopped him, John still followed them.

Oscar looked at his trembling hands. He did not want to be a monster worse than John. He closed his eyes and breathed out all the anger that had built up in him.