Chapter 917 Kuzma - WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?!
Hearing that name getting chanted with fervor over and over, I was still in great disbelief about everything that occurred up to this point, but the phenomenon where someone would find something they were looking for when they weren't looking for it was ringing true.
Sure, there could probably be a couple more Kuzmas here and there but all of Jonathan's points—where half was fucking confusing—pointed to the guy we were still in the process of looking for.
'Another process was to make our moms look for that missing item but that's impossible for me at the moment…'
Once I glanced over the glass windows, I saw a well-built man who was covered in scars—either from stab or bullet wounds—only wearing short trunks and some sort of makeshift cloth wraps that acted as his gloves, ankle supports, elbow pads, and knee pads.
However, I noticed a particular shining object that was sticking out from his elbow pads and his ankle supports—and considering where we were currently, it totally made a lot of sense.
'Running out of fighting cocks didn't mean they had to stop using those…'
The object I was talking about were these "Tari/s" that were basically a karambit for chickens used for cockfighting, and they were generally wrapped around by the chicken's claws or ankles to deal more significant damage to its opponent or in some cases, completely tear its opponent apart, saving the loser some money for butchering it for meat later.
But yeah, the tari Kuzma and his opponent had on themselves were basically karambits or shoddy knives that were purposefully bent or curved to fit the bill. But yeah, it was still dangerous to the user even if it was properly secured but their safety wasn't the main concern in this joint.
Everything was made for fun and entertainment.
I glanced momentarily at Jonathan who was waiting for my reaction, "You're one crazy motherfucker, if that didn't cause too many fatalities, Mr. Cuervo would definitely have this in his shows—"
"Right?! For everyone to have fun, a lot of risks need to be involved!"
With that said, the chanting eventually died down as Kuzma went to the "Meron" side while his opponent was already on the "Wala" side. Those two words basically meant "There is/There is none" in English but the best comparison for it would be our good ol' blue and red corners.
But before the fight even started, I had to slap my forehead because if Kuzma died on that match then and there, Tatiana would definitely be fucking furious and the relationship I had with Artem and the rest would fucking fall down the drain.
However, I know that these fucking Russians—no offense—were hardy as fuck, and his fucking opponent looked like he was down on his last quarters. I very much know the look on people's faces but Kuzma looked like he had a lot of shit going on as well.
'So… I just let the other one die? Is that it?'
To be completely honest, I couldn't give much of a fact for the other guy because everyone else in this joint probably committed multiple crimes or felonies, went to jail for a year or so, or even still on the run and got lucky when the world ended.
I wasn't saying that everyone who decided to spend their days in a DDR Camp or in this shit hole were good and bad respectively but c'mon, a little bit of being judgmental could go a long way.
And after a few more moments, the bell suddenly rang and the two rushed at each other at the same time.
But as they were only an arm's length away, Kuzma's opponent jumped and wound up his elbow, performing a Superman Punch with a… an elbow, of course, to somehow get the first hit in.
However, as Kuzma was still leaning forward when he rushed in, I saw his leg muscles tense abruptly before he jumped forward in a fraction of a second—his elbow also wounded to the side before they collided.
It definitely looked like a cockfight with humans instead of chickens but after that exchange, Kuzma's right eyebrow had a deep laceration while his opponent's right cheek was flapping by its jaw.
Blood was definitely drawn from both sides, but I clearly saw how Kuzma's stance changed into what Artem and Nikolas would use while we were sparring. It totally turned defensive compared to his zero-defense Hail Mary earlier, but due to the knives in his elbows, it looked like he was posing to strike first.
But yeah, due to how injured his opponent was compared to him, the guy on the opposing side rushed in once again with a flurry of blows that turned into a flurry of misses, making him sustain more cuts and lacerations on his arms.
It was because Kuzma used his elbows defensively to block, dodge, and weave around his opponent, and to bring back another point of reference that he had knives on his elbows, he was basically a pterodactyl or some sort winged animal that had talons or claws built into their upper body.
Attacking Kuzma in that way did him more harm than good and he was definitely running on willpower alone. Anyone else would've tapped out or surrendered but there were definitely circumstances preventing him from doing so.
But as cheers for Kuzma's name continued to get louder and louder, the guy just snapped and resolved to fight dirty just to win by any means necessary.
The most obvious choice was to use the sand flooring to kick it up on Kuzma's eyes but the motherfucker doubled down—no, tripled down to use blood and spit for added measure.
If this were done to me, my first step would be to somehow jump back to avoid it completely or turn my head away—or even just close my eyes first—but Kuzma had his own way of doing things.
Attacking right then and there was definitely the first course of action the moment anyone succeeded in blinding their opponent, but the only thing Kuzma's opponent succeeded in was throwing shit on his face.
He was this close to slashing Kuzma's throat but he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Kuzma still had his eyes open wide—with all the sand, blood, and spit he threw at him—though definitely bloodshot, and before he could even retreat, there was a brief glint of metal before blood spurted from his neck.
"OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH SHIT!"
"DID ANYONE SEE THAT?! FUCK! DID ANYONE FUCKING SEE THAT?!"
"HAHAHA! I'M RICH! I'M FUUUUUCKIN' RICH!"
"GREAT! TIME TO PAY YOUR— OI! WHY ARE YOU RUNNING—"
"FUCK ALL OF YOU, YOU TOLD ME ANDREI'S A SURE WIN!"
"JUST CRY OVER THERE, BITCH BOY!"
"MAAAAN, STOP BICKERING AND JUST ENJOY THIS SHIT!"
"WOOHOO! KUZMA FOR THE WIN!"
"KUZMAAAAA! WARM UP MY BED FOR ME! I'LL LEAVE THE DOOR UNLOCKED!"
"BITCH, IT'S ALWAYS UNLOCKED! EVERYONE HERE HAD GONE THROUGH TO YOU— OW!"
"HAHAHAHAHA! THIS IS CRAZY!"
The conclusion was so fucking metal even I made a face because even I needed goggles to keep my eyes open underwater for extended periods. All I could do in that situation was avoid it or prevent it from happening but the motherfucker powered through that shit for the brief second it could give him to deliver the final blow.
'Doing that needed more than fucking willpower and grit…'
But on that note, another round of betting had already started, and while the body was getting dragged away to be dumped somewhere else, I caught a reflection of Allie putting on an equivalent of a slutty nurse uniform.
She never looked so excited as she put a few things in her medical bag, but before she went out the door, Jonathan stopped her.
"Baby, you don't need to go down. I'll call him up—"
"Really, Daddy? Don't you get jealous when I let him touch me when I nurse him?"
'Aaaand~ We are back to this weirdness…'
Jonathan scratched his head as he looked at his daughter, "Baby, can you resist the urge for a minute because our guests need to meet our best fighter!" then he turned to me, "Isn't that right, Mr. Champion of Champions?"
I nodded dismissively, "Sure…"
"I bet you'd like to fight him next time, so—" then he suddenly spoke on his radio, "Hey! Tell Kuzma to come on up! Allie will patch him here and tell him to look a little decent! We have guests!"
I chuckled as I waved him off, "Don't worry about him looking decent, I just want to meet the guy," then I turned to Allie, "Excuse me, Allie… But are you really a nurse? No offense—"
Allie's eyes lit up, "Wouldn't you like to know~?"
Jesus chimed in, "She is, actually… despite all that… sparkle and enthusiasm."
I nodded approvingly, "I see… but Jesus…"
"Hmm?"
"We really need to make Tatiana come up as well. We should—"
Jesus looked at me a certain way, "You think that's a good idea?"
I thought for a moment and understood his glance, "Right. It's better to just introduce him to the 'crew' later. He should be patched up and not be disturbed further."
At this point, it only took a few moments before we heard a knock on the door and once Jonathan let Kuzma come in, he barely glanced at me when he abruptly came up to my face with bloodshot eyes ready to commit blood murder, staring directly at the smiley pin on my bulletproof vest.
"You… Where did— Who the fuck are you?! ANSWER ME?!"
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