I barely managed to dodge Q's swing. He threw a wild right hand aimed at my face before stepping back. Will and Rod took the space he left behind and started their offensive.
A left from Will snapped my head to the right.
A right from Rod sent me to the ground.
"Let him get up, let him get up!" Q shouted.
I scrambled off the ground and raised my hands to defend myself. The trio took turns bucking at me, causing me to flinch.
"Come on, let's see what you got, Gas Station!" sneered Rod, "You want in? Show us you want in!"
This was not what I thought this would be.
But I'll be damned if this were to stop me.
I ran in and stuck my foot into Rod's gut. What I thought was a significant strike turned out to be false. He had my leg held in his stomach, allowing Will to land his combo. He landed a left and right before Q came from behind and kicked my leg from under me.
I ignored the pain from my tailbone and rolled to recover. The trio stood together again ready to go another round. I brushed the blood from my lip and rolled my shoulders.
"You know, this is hardly fair."
"It ain't supposed to be," said Q.
"Oftentimes it ain't," commented Rod.
"Run it, stop talking," commanded Will.
I balled my fists and readied myself. Rod stepped forward and curled his hand, beckoning me forward. I ran in and landed two hits on his chin.
Rather, he did not bother to dodge.
When I swung a third time he ducked and swiveled around me, placing me in a headlock. Will came in and landed a sharp gut punch that knocked the air from my lungs. With the strength I had, I used Rod's grip to lift myself from the ground and kick Will away.
I was still trying to shake off the effects of Will's gut punch when I realized too late that Rod had let go of his grip. Q came with an overhand right that sent me back to the ground.
I spat blood on the ground and staggered up. Once again, the trio stood in their usual formation waiting for me to get back up. Why did it feel like they were taking turns? Overwhelm tactics should just be that–overwhelming.
My next couple of attempts fell to the same pattern.
Rod restrained me.
Will dealt the damage.
Q landed the final blow.
After the fifth time I finally picked up on the pattern.
Their party composition lacked diversity. One man to soak up the damage, and two more to deal with it. If I wanted to win, I would need to break their triangle of attacks.
So I ran toward Rod.
"Here we go," he sighed.
I kept note that Will and Q were already to my sides. I started swinging at Rod, despite how fatigued I was. He was bleeding from his nose after I connected my right hand to his face.
I wound up my left hand.
Just as I thought he would, this was the strike he would react to. I swung my left over him and used the momentum to charge at Will. He let his right hand fly. I responded by ducking and tackling him into the ground.
He guarded his face.
I was not aiming for it. I laid two blows into his side and got back up. The moment I swiveled around, Q stopped in his tracks just steps from me. I ran to him and started to swing wildly, hoping something would hit him. Instead, he dodged every strike and landed a clean shot to my chin.
I staggered back in time to meet another strike–a kick to my side–that sent me to the ground.
I coughed.
The night sky was lit quite nicely. I wondered what else I could have been doing at this hour instead of being pummeled so handily. The next hand I saw was stretched toward me, inviting me to take it.
Confused, I reached out to Rod's hand and stood up with his assistance.
"I don't understand. I wasn't able to best all of you at once."
Q laughed and patted my back.
"You were never going to. We just wanted to see if you would quit or not."
"And you didn't," said Will, holding his side, "Hit my goddamn kidneys, damn nigga."
[RECRUITMENT QUEST PASSED]
[JOIN ORGANIZATION: THREE-SIX]
[NEW TUTORIALS AVAILABLE]
[RANK PROMOTION GIVEN]
[BITCH ASS NIGGA V > HOOD RAT I]
[NEW QUEST AVAILABLE]
I eyed the panes of text with weary eyes. This was too much information for me to process at this time. I looked back at my new comrades.
"That's it? Just…endure being jumped?"
All three nodded.
"Let me see your phone," said Will.
I unlocked it and handed it over to him.
[ORGANIZATION BASE MARKED ON MAP]
[CONTACT INFO ADDED]
>[WILL]
>[ROD]
>[Q]
"Meet us at my crib tomorrow afternoon. We'll get you set up right."
"Your…crib? You sleep in a cradle?"
Rod and Q looked at each other before laughing. Will sighed and let a chuckle escape before responding.
"You know what I mean, nigga. See you tomorrow."
The trio left together. Soon it was just me in the empty park with only crickets for company. A drop of blood landed near my foot. As I looked down, the small splotches of blood reminded me of the sweat I spilled playing against Ock.
Then I remembered his advice. Ock had suffered the same damage as I. Yet he chose to change his surroundings.
The longer I found myself staring at those stains on the ground, the more those stains reminded me of my blood at the gas station.
No.
Ock had fled. He let whoever shot him go free.
Darius and Viana let the Arch Dragon out of their sights. I would not do the same for Xay or the Arch Dragon. Neither of them would escape.
I walked home thoroughly fatigued after my trial. All the while my thoughts tried to resolve how big a cradle one would need to sleep in.
More importantly, why would a grown man need one?
The next day my map guided me to the place Will said I needed to meet them. Several blocks later I arrived at a small house.
Part of me was relieved that I did not walk to a giant crib.
Q sat posted on the patio and gave me a nod upon seeing me. I climbed the stairs to the door and Q held a hand out expectantly.
I shook his hand.
[PRESENCE CHECK FAILED]
Of course.
"What the fuck–nigga did you just shake my hand?"
I nodded once.
"Was that…not what you were expecting? I wasn't told to pay a toll, but–"
"No, nigga, dap me up."
He reset his hand and swung it into my own. A limp wristed impact made him smack his teeth.
"This nigga–go inside."
I retracted my hand.
A dap?
Even a handshake is tied to a stat?
Ridiculous.
"That you, Gas Station?" asked Will.
"No, it's Jamal."
"That's what he asked," responded Rod, "Get in here."
I took three steps down the hallway before the smell hit me. While not too terrible, it was enough for me to stop walking and adjust to it. Inside another room were Will and Rod rolling herbs on a table. I sat down in an empty seat and reclined.
They each acknowledged me for a moment before continuing their craft. Q came in shortly after and took another spot. He made a flame appear and lit the end of the rolled herbs. After each man took an exhale of the odd smelling substance I asked a question.
"So…what's first?"
"What do you mean," asked Rod, "This is it. Not a damn thing going on today."
"What? Are we not patrolling our territory?"
"Not every day," said Q.
"What about the matching tabards, so that everyone knows we are aligned? Or gaining currency? Gathering more allies?"
"All I heard was you saying you want to draw attention to yourself," sighed Will, "Fuck no."
I took a deep breath. The residuals of the herb made me cough a little before continuing with my questions.
"Okay. So what do we do in order to further our power?"
All three men looked at me and sighed.
"Further our power–this nigga, bro," sneered Rod.
"Take a hit and chill, Gas Station," Will said, "Q's working on a batch."
"A batch?"
This sounded like an opportunity.
"A batch of what kind?" I inquired.
"Nosey ass nigga," said Will.
"Some of that meow meow."
I blinked once.
"Cat related imagery?"
"Snow leopard."
"How are you able to keep a predator of that size indoors?"
"Pure ivory."
"Q, you surely don't mean to tell me there's an elephant in–"
"Bath salts, nigga, damn! Take a fucking hint," groaned Rod.
"Oh, I see. Bath salts."
Another round of smoking between the three men. I nodded my head and reclined in my chair.
"What made you dabble in the washroom business?"
"DRUGS, NIGGA! Oh my god, it's DRUGS!" cried Rod, "Do we need to spell it out for you?!"
Will and Q covered their faces and stifled their laughter.
"Calm down, calm down. He ain't ever done this before. Q is…skilled in a couple of different things. Here–"
Will stretched his hand over to me. In his hand was the rolled up herbs.
"Hit this shit," he continued, "Welcome to Three-Six."
I took the small joint in my hands and studied it.
"What is it?"
"Just a blunt."
I put the blunt near my face and pulled away. I tried approaching again but shied away a second time.
"Puff and pass that shit or just pass it, nigga, damn. Scary ass," sighed Rod.
I rolled my eyes and inhaled it. I fought tears in my eyes as I coughed out every cloud of smoke from my lungs. When I sat up, I wheezed even more, beating on my chest in desperation.
In the corner of my eye I saw a meter slowly rise. While hacking up what was left in my lungs, another pane of text appeared beside it.
[STATUS EFFECT TUTORIAL]
[DIFFERENT SUBSTANCES OFFER DIFFERENT STATUS EFFECTS]
[THESE EFFECTS CAN BE POSITIVE OR NEGATIVE]
I glanced at the top of the meter to see what was currently ailing me.
[STATUS: HIGH - 36%]
Q leaned over and inspected me.
"Shit, nigga. You a lightweight. Will, I don't think he can handle my shit."
"It's good shit," he responded, "A little celebration for standing on his own yesterday."
"He ain't standing no more. He's gonna be outta there after another hit."
Lightweight? I would never want to be known as a lightweight when–
When had I sunken so far in the chair?
I glanced up at the meter with lazy eyes.
[STATUS: HIGH - 77%]
That number was higher than the one before.
Plus, it had two sevens.
I coughed one more time and fought to sit up in my chair. Blinking hard a few times helped me regain a little more autonomy.
"I'm fine. I'm all good. I can't wait to see these salts for the bath. Expecting the best. Yes."
The three men nodded slowly and resumed talking amongst themselves.
[STATUS: HIGH - 84%]
Oh. An eight.
That was higher than seven.
But four is not.
"Never in the nine realms had I ever had something like this. Bravo, Q, bravo."
He looked between Rod and Will before responding.
"Uh…thanks. Anyway, I'm gonna bring out what else I was working on. After this? The entire neighborhood will know Three-Six has the good shit."
Q exited the room in a blur. Will and Rod leaned over and chuckled before taking more puffs.
"This nigga is COOKED," Rod laughed.
"You good, my boy?, your eyes are red as SHIT," smiled Will.
"This has got to be the strongest hash I've ever partaken in," I slurred, "And I once smoked from the Pipe of St. Monclair!"
Moments later Q arrived with a small pan with white crystals. Will and Rod nodded in approval as he set it down on a table.
"Q, my friend, what is this? What alchemy did you delve into to make geodes like these?"
Q blinked.
"Nigga, this is crack."