294: Handicaps
While the announcer berated Number Fifty, Uma, the crowds discussed, cheered, and decried the deviation from the format.
“Now that’s what I’m talking about!”
“One versus seven!? For real?”
“I’ve had her as my winner! This is bullshit!”
“Then she should get through this, right?”
“With such a handicap?”
“This can’t go wrong!”
“Why don’t we have more fights like this?”
“You’re happy about this? Instead of four fights to the death, we get a single, one-sided beatdown!”
“I know, right!?”
“Worst case scenario, we get to see an arrogant brat get brutilized like she deserves and still have seven participants fighting for survival in the next round.”
“Or she kills them one at a time?”
“Oh, I hope she does!”
“Do you think she stands a chance?”
“Don’t know, but I will be rooting for her!”
“Yeah, fuck those cowards!”
“If they can’t beat a single girl as seven, they deserve to get their guts spilled!”
“Kick their butts, Number Forty!”
“Gut her just like her old man!”
“Oh, our brave participants have made a fine selection of weapons!” the announcer praised the participants that signed up to fight Number Forty and had already equipped themselves with the best weapons they could find. “The Huggers, The Eye-Gouger, The Roaster… A katana? Seriously? Number Fifty-eight, you couldn’t find anything with more of an-No, it’s a fine choice for… Someone with your set of skills! What will Number Forty pull out that can resist such potent weapons?”
John, the skeletal leader of the shirtless masked staff leaned the container with the set of weapon-choosing balls to the pale girl. After popping a small, pink bubblegum-like bubble at her lips, Number Forty walked over and pulled out a wooden ball. She opened it and pulled out three small fishhooks, strung together by a chain.
“The Prey Seeker!” the announcer explained. “One could not hope for a better weapon when fighting multiple opponents.”
John turned around to his fellow shirtless men by the weapon chests and pointed to one of the weapon chests, but before he could say a word, the announcer loudly interrupted his actions:
“Unfortunately, the weapon was incinerated in the flames when Number Four so carelessly scattered the weapons across the arena! Unlucky. But not to worry! We will not leave our handicapped little cocksucker weaponless! Go on, Number Forty, pull another ball!”
Number Forty pulled another ball with no complaints or hesitation, opened it, and pulled out a small wooden coin. The observer sphere magnified the coin in the girl’s hands, showing a carved symbol of scales on both sides of the coin.
“Oh my! Number Forty must exchange all her current possessions with her opponent!” the announcer explained. “Although she has no weapons, all her clothes save for her underwear must also go to her opponent. Number Fifty-eight, you have no choice but to do the same and offer all you currently have on you to Number Forty!”
“What!? Why me!?” The beastkin protested. “I was promised a weapon!”
“Rules are rules,” the announcer shrugged.
The furry tiger-like beastkin looked at John and other shirtless men who eyed him carefully and suddenly seemed suspiciously-trigger happy. Grumbling, the beastkin did as he was told. Not that he had much to give away to begin with, as he wore nothing but trousers over his furry body. Number Fifty-eight threw the black katana to Number Forty’s feet, removed his trousers, leaving himself with just plain boxers, and tossed the trousers over the katana.
The girl hesitated before undressing. She gently slit her hand across the fabric of her form-fitting black fantasy dress while the crowds got louder and cheered for her to undress.
The announcer let the moment stretch out. “Take your time!” she said. The hairball’s sadistic grin was palpable in every word. “It’s not like we’ll be forced to remove the items from you by force.”
Not giving the announcer the satisfaction, Number Forty undid the dress hooks on her back and undressed, revealing her perky B-cups with pink nipples and the fact that she had nothing but black thong-like panties under her dress.
Ignoring the laughs and cheers from the spectators, Number Forty threw her dress Number Fifty-eight who easily caught it into his giant paw.
“Now, Number Fifty-eight can use his opponent’s items however he chooses,” the announcer explained with a chuckle. “But… As compensation for losing all his possessions through no fault of his own, when in fact he was promised an advantage, Number Fifty-eight may choose two more weapons from the mighty arsenal our staff has brought to the arena!”
The beastkin’s frustrated demeanor changed instantly. He looked at the practically naked girl with a smirk before walking to the weapon stashes. Along the way he threw the girl’s dress into one of the pillars of fire, incinerating it to the point that not even ashes were left.