Night comes like a blanket of soot over Crucible City. Ki lanterns are lit, and the pretty girls and boys come out to prowl, looking for cheap booze and even cheaper thrills. Amongst the hustle and bustle of the crowds, we find Henry lying on a pile of trash in a dirty alleyway.

  He hoped things would improve when he got to Crucible City. They had looked promising, and he was making good money, but then his fucking martial uncle had to bend him over and go to town on his coin purse. Henry held the five gold coins, slowly letting the potential energy leech into himself. It was like throwing a water balloon into a fire. He could feel a drop of ki slither into his depleted core; Henry was sure now that he was building a tolerance to the potential energy. That was not good.

  He was fully broke now and didn’t have enough ki to bullshit his way out of trouble. His stomach was growling again, and he was tired. Henry realized he had been awake for two days straight, and his only meal had been a bowl of noodles and some booze. Henry needed rest and food as well as some safe shelter to plot. He couldn’t do that while lying in a pile of garbage.

  Henry stank of trash and looked like death warmed over. As he trudged to the Rising Star Inn, people let him pass like a plague victim. He knew at least he could get a free meal and some sleep from that place. Henry remembered the tour guide saying something about a test, but honestly, he had no idea what other options he had.

  The Rising Star Inn was bustling with activity as Henry approached it. People were milling outside, drinking, laughing, and gambling as they stood in a line to enter. Henry looked away from the gamblers and crushed the burgeoning whispers of the gold madness. After his encounter with his dear martial uncle, Henry knew he had to keep the madness in line, or else he would likely do something monumentally stupid again.

  Henry lined up with all the other people, awaiting their turn to enter the Inn. Standing at the front door was a wizened old crone handing people wooden plaques it looked like and ushering them in one at a time. Everyone in the line was positively vibrating with excitement. Some sharpened their swords while others fussed around with their talismans and elixirs. All kinds of cultivators stood in the line, even many young masters with their attendants.

  Henry was too tired and hungry to care about his surroundings as he lined up. The five gold coins he had absorbed early gave him enough ki for about two minutes worth of power, maybe even less considering his shoddy ki control. He knew that he would have to fight for his place here; it just made sense, going by xianxia tropes. He kept his head down, trying to avoid meeting the eyes of the young master types. Those bastards were adversarial by nature, and he looked like an easy target right now with his goofy-ass tourist shirt and disheveled appearance. Henry screamed country bumpkin on his first day in Crucible City.

  “Arg,” a man screams as he is flung out of the doors of The Rising Star Inn. He lands on the ground with a thud and doesn’t move. The crowd seems unbothered by this development. Henry was shocked; goddamn, xianxia bastards don’t give a shit if someone probably died. The man twitched a little to assuage Henry that he wasn’t dead.

  “Bah couldn’t make the cut, it looks like,” a man with the most glorious mustache Henry had ever seen said to his companion.

  “Every year we get these idiots that think they can just get a free meal off the Rising Star, served him right,” said his companion, who had the most glorious eyebrows Henry had ever seen. Big bushy things that looked like they were fat caterpillars on his face.

  Henry was feeling less and less sure of his decision to enter here. He was on the last of his ki and energy; did he want to risk it here? Maybe he could go back to that little girl at the forge and beg for a job or something; she seemed to have taken a liking to him.

  No, he was no coward; well, truthfully, he was a little bit of a coward, Henry thought to himself. Especially when he had a severe handicap. Henry wrestled with self-doubt as the line crept closer to the front. Henry decided and was about to leave the line, valuing his life more than the chance at a hot plate.

  “Ahh look at this big lumbering motherfucker, you look like a shit, boy, and you smell worse; I hope you can scrap, though, or else they are gonna have to clean another corpse off the ground,” said the crone at the door.

  Henry was about to say something, but the crone, with inhuman speeds, just threw the plaque at Henry, grabbed his collar, and threw him through the door.

  ****

  “Rip his fucking face off, Tian,” someone shouted from the rafters.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Henry watched as a lithe cultivator in shimmering blue robes ripped her opponent's face off and hoisted it to the sky.

  Thunderous applause rained down on her, followed by a small shower of gold coins, cultivation regents, and even a pair of boxers with little hearts on them.

  Henry licked his lips at the sight of the gold coins, unsure if this was the gold madness or his desires.

  “Get off the floor, young pup, and give me the plaque.”

  Henry looked up to the most voluptuous woman he had ever seen. She was muscular with long red hair and a scar-ridden face accented with big, pouty red lips that seemed to have a perpetual smirk. She was beautiful, the same way a desert was before you die in it from dehydration. Her skin was bright red, and two little horns emerged from her forehead. A forked tail snaked up behind her and snatched the plaque from Henry.

  “You got thirty minutes before your first match tonight; the rules are simple here at the Rising Star. You fight till concession, or your opponent is unable to continue. You win, and we will upgrade your plaque. You can fight as often or as few times as you want, but you must fight at least three times your first day. Lose three times, and you get the boot.”

  Henry stood up and dusted himself off, trying desperately to pay attention to what she was saying, as he was mesmerized by her assets.

  “If you are alive by midnight, we assign you a room and amenities according to the grade of your plaque.”

  The devil woman, Henry, was pretty sure she was a devil woman, stood there with her arms crossed, lifting her ample bosom, and looked at Henry expectantly.

  “Umm, what are you doing later tonight,” Henry said coyly.

  The devil woman just laughed, making her jiggly in all the right places, and turned around, walking away.

  Henry was staring at her butt when she turned around, and he blushed.

  “I swear I wasn’t looking at your ridiculous dump truck,” Henry quickly lied.

  She laughed again and asked, “What’s your name, you horny idiot?”

  “Henry,” he stammered, answering her.

  “Hen Ri? That's an odd name. You from the north, boy?” she asked while tracing some sigils on his plaque.

  “Whatever doesn’t matter, survive tonight, and maybe I'll remember it.”

  And with that, she walks away, her hips swaying even more seductively than before. Henry was almost certain she knew he was watching. He hated that she had to leave, but damn did he love to see her go.

  ****

  Henry walked around the dirt and sand pit that was the Rising Star's center. Staff members were peeling the last fight's remains off the floor and dumping it into a wooden trunk that seemed to eat it. It reminded Henry of a mimic from his dungeon days. They then packed the earth down with ki and bowed before leaving.

  Two faces appeared on a clear crystal screen with their names and plaque status. There was a very gruff-looking man named Bo, who had a thin mustache and held a silver plaque, fighting a dark-skinned bald man named Tuyi, who also held a silver plaque. Henry wondered if the plaques were like weight classes here. After a short countdown, the two fighters entered the ring, bowed slightly at each other, and then it was on.

  The fight was quick and brutal; the dark-skinned man roasted the gruff-looking one like a chicken with his kicks. Henry could smell the burnt flesh all the way at the bar. Henry had been trying to see if there was anything that he could afford. Currently, he was nursing a glass of water and scowling at the bartender, who just smiled pleasantly back at him. Henry loved to watch people and boys. Were there some interesting people there?

  The Rising Star had five levels that looked down on the fighting pits. Each level seemed to hold more and more amenities. Henry couldn’t even see what was on the top level. Private booths were starting from the third level and up. Henry assumed that not everyone who was there was there to fight. Henry saw in some of the levels young masters with their courtesans, shifty-looking businessmen whispering at each other, and even some people who just screamed money and influence.

  It felt like a nightclub to Henry, at least if you replaced all the music with people screaming and yelling while enjoying blood sports. Henry’s level of the Rising Star was packed with people. It made sense. This was where they put all the newbies, after all. Henry could see some people talking with false bravado, and some remained quiet in their corners, observing the competition.

  Henry just wanted some food. He was starving, and after three glasses of water, he needed to piss as well. Thankfully the bathrooms were not xianxia bullshit but just a porcelain trough and individual toilets with wooden partitions. This world had indoor plumbing.

  Wiping his wet hands on his grubby shirt, Henry left the bathroom just in time to see his picture flash on the crystal screen. These mother fuckers must have taken a close-up of his face when he was checking out that devil lady because they managed to make Henry look like a lecherous idiot. They even spelled his name wrong. Hen Ri, goddamn xianxia bullshit rears its ugly head again. His opponent was an intimidating fellow named Ping, who had a large scar going over one of his eyes. He was smiling, but several of his teeth were missing.

  Henry walked over to the fighting pits and leaped in, trying his best to look cool. His opponent Ping rolled more, then hopped in. He was a big fat boulder of a man and wore what looked like a dead bear over his shoulders. He also had a big stupid topknot on his head, and it infuriated Henry. Henry knew it was an irrational hatred, but he needed some fuel to get through this fight. Henry was running on fumes at this point.

  A number countdown appeared on the crystal screen, and Henry guessed that they were supposed to bow at each other. That son of a bitch Ping didn’t bow. Instead, he threw his bear cloak off his shoulders and bellowed a laugh.

  “This great one will break you, then this great one will drink his wine with your skull and wipe his face with your….”

  The timer went down to zero, and Henry sprinted at Ping as fast as he could. He needed to end this quickly. Henry threw a low kick at Ping's calf, using his shin to impact Ping's flesh. The big man winced but didn’t budge. Ping was surprisingly graceful as he windmilled and attempted to take Henry’s head off with a backhand. Henry ducked and put one leg between Ping’s; using the cultivator's momentum, Henry grabbed his lead arm and pulled him with his hip, sending the big man sprawling on his back. Henry could not let up, so he got into a full mount, wrapping his legs around Ping's waist. Ping tried to buck Henry off and punch him in the face. Some punches landed and hurt like hell, but one punch came a little too slow. Henry grabbed Ping’s wrist and pivoted his whole body so that his legs were parallel to Ping’s chest. Henry let a sliver of ki trickle through his meridians as he yanked as hard as he could.

  SNAP! POP! RIP!

  He was holding Ping's arm in his hands as the man was screaming at the top of his lungs.

  “I yield, I yield, please have mercy,” Ping sobbed and blubbered as blood spurted out of the stump that was his arm.

  Henry felt terrible; he hadn’t meant to tear the poor guy's arm off like that. Laying his arm gently on his chest, Henry waited for the screen to say he was the winner before stepping out of the ring. No cheers or gold coins were thrown at him, just a heavy silence.

  Help a Bro Out!