The Face: Tournament of Death, Chapter Twelve

A flurry of quick jabs and swift kicks floundered about in multiple directions. Loud cries and flowing movements could be viewed through Sam’s vision as he stood back to see both family and co-workers duking it out with the eight overseers of the ice factory. Fai and Dewei made a double-teaming effort to attack the flappy-hatted tyrant. Using his staff as a deflecting force, the flappy-hatted man tried to stave off his two opponents, while the two were jabbing away. With a quick sweep of the stick, he was able to knock the two onto the ground, and proceed to bashing them both upon the flesh.

The first round of the tournament was underway as Shadow D and his opponent, the New Zealand fighting fury, Allan Larcen, stepped up to the battlefield. “Ya best be keepin’ up a good fight, ya hear?” he prompted Devon. “You don’t need to be worryin’ about that,” he replied. “Just be worryin’ about yourself, and what pain I’m gonna cause…”

A large crowd had gathered around the battleground, with Shran, his loyal group of servant women, and bodyguards surrounding him. He sat in an opulently large, bronze chair that seemed to loom over the entire area. With hand to chin, the gong struck, resonating a powerful sound throughout open ears. The battle had begun.

The two combatants stood, staring into the eyes of each other with fists held high, attempting to anticipate one another’s initiating attack. Turning the tide, Shadow quickly jabbed forward, but held back, hoping to catch his opponent off guard. The intending effect took place, and for an announced second, Larcen emitted a surprised look upon his face, and held down fists. Using this as his own opportunity, Shadow D struck forward with his powerful fist like a venomous snake using his kung fu technique. Contact was made with a crackling sound as Larcen’s head snapped backward, and his nose felt the pounding impact.

Gaining his footing after stumbling backward, he held his hand to his aching nose, and then put up his fists once again.

Sam Lee Kim watched as the rumble at the factory took a turn for the worst, as blood had been spilled upon the ground around the dozens of workers who fought about. ‘I can’t sit back and watch this…’ he said to himself. He looked downward to the pendant that he had cherished, and held it tight in his grasp.

Just then, one of the overseers of the factory came up to him with staff in hand. “Hey you, you should learn to obey who’s in charge…you rebel!” He screamed, lifting his bo staff forward. The wooden struck Sam’s chest, and was swept upward across his neck, eventually making impact to his chin, sending it high north. The overseer whipped back his staff toward him, and waited for his response.

Sam slowly rubbed his chin, still looking to the sky, and slowly he lowered his eyes toward his offender. His hand then trailed down to below his neck, where he felt that there was no necklace. His eyes then darted down to the ground and saw that his pendant had broken in two, not only shattering the priceless relic, but also breaking the hold on Sam’s nonviolence at last. “You shouldn’t have done that…” he warned.

With unrelenting quickness, Sam retrieved the nunchaku that were held in a small pouch connected to his waistline. Like lightning he struck the offender’s face with the wooden pole attached to the chain, pounding it into the man’s head in whip-like, overhead motion. With that one strike, the man fell upon the ground unconscious. Finally free from the bind that had held him so, Sam Lee Kim joined the battle with his friends, and unleashed his fists of fury.

Shadow D had been dishing out the pain, just as he had promised, upon the ailing Allan Larcen, who knelt upon the ground, holding his agony-stricken stomach, for a hard blow had just landed in that very area. “Come on, Larcen, I’d expect better from you, especially after that harrowing display on the boat…” he taunted. Larcen’s red eyes looked up in frustration. “You just wait!” he cried, leaping up and attempting to strike Shadow D with his fist. However, the elusive target easily dodged, and proceeded to knee the already-beaten Larcen in the chin. To end things quickly, Shadow pounded his right fist downward onto the head of his opponent, and landed him upon the ground with a thundering thud. Devon had won his first match.

Sam Lee Kim was unstoppable, invincible, as he faced off against the six overseers that were left. He warily stood watching his opponents, with one end of his nunchaku in hand while the other rested in between his inner arm and side torso. The others had backed off, for he prompted them to. “Are you sure you can take them…all alone?” Fai asked. Without looking toward his cousin, Sam replied, “Don’t worry about it.” He took a step backward as the six aggressors surrounded him. “Well, if you need us, we’ll be here!” Fai continued.

One by one the tyrants fell prey to Sam Lee Kim’s unmatched skill in fighting technique. Twirling his chuks in a round-about manner, he struck down each one of them, as they charged. Finally, the foreman was left all alone, with his only allies fallen upon the ground. He held his whip high, and struck at his opponent. Sam rapidly thrust his chuks forward and let the tip of the whip wrap around one of the wooden poles. He then thrust his own weapon backward, causing the foreman to lose grip of his own possession. The whip flew gently into the hand of Sam Lee Kim, and he twirled his nunchaku in a showy demonstration before resting them underneath his arm once again. “Give up…now. We want to see Cho and Weng, as well as Billy and Chen. There will be no alternatives.” The fat foreman rubbed his head, knowing that he was surely defeated, but unable to supply the demands. “I don’t know where they are…really,” he said in an agitated voice. Sam Lee Kim raised up his nunchaku in a threatening manner. The foreman flinched with arms covering his head. “I’m telling you the truth!” He yelled.

However, a lone voice interrupted them in the distance. “You there…with the nunchaku…please, come here. I would like to speak with you.” It was the manager, who had seen the carnage break loose from the beginning. Sam Kim reluctantly complied.

The co-workers gathered round the manager’s hut seconds after Sam Lee Kim had entered it. They all waited patiently, earnest to know what the manager spoke to Sam about. What seemed like elongated minutes past, and the resolute fighter came back out of the hut. The manager followed, and leaned against the rail in front of the hut. “Ah, my fellow co-workers. I am pleased to announce…the very new foreman of Ishizu Icebox Factory…Samuel Lee Kim!” The crowd below roared in feverish glee at the words spoken, as they anxiously took Sam Lee Kim and carried him atop the crowd in noisy clamor. “Wow, this is great news!” Fai said, looking upward to the celebrating Sam. “How’d you do it?” He asked. Samuel Looked down with a big smile upon his face, “I don’t know…I guess he liked my performance, I get to attend a big dinner celebration tonight in the city!” he cried. And so did the rest of the crowd, joyfully, but each of the cousins, because of the present triumph they were dealing, may have forgotten their original intent of the protest that led to the eruption of conflict that Sam Kim had won.

My dreaded fight had finally come, and I was completely unprepared for it. “Okay Taoyu, why don’t you tell the judge that I pulled a hamstring while doing strenuous workout stretches last night, and then I won’t have to fight,” I said to the young fighter. “Come on,” she coaxed, “It won’t be that bad, I know you can do it! You just gotta believe you can!” I rubbed my forehead in distress, wondering how I would get out. But it was too late, for the judge was already pushing me into the ring, against martial arts student, Joseph Bell. It would have helped if I knew a little Jujitsu or Mantis Style Kung Fu even, but alas I knew none of it. I experimented with different stances, waving my arms in fastidious motion, but unable to come up with anything that looked remotely accurate. Taoyu knelt in the front row of the crowd, with her panda beside her, shaking her head in hopelessness.

Bell raised a brow, perplexed at what I was trying to accomplish. “What are you trying to accomplish?” he wondered. I was lost for words. “Uh…well, you see, I’m just warming up. You see, changing…er…adapting, yeah, adapting to your style, just like Bruce Lee would do…” I said. Bell stood there with a blank face. “I haven’t even started my stance yet…how do you know what style I’m using…” Sweat droplets began to form upon my head. Seeing this, Taoyu worried. “Oh, no Panda, he’s already sweating, that’s not good…the battle hasn’t even started,” she said to the bear. Panda shrugged her shoulders in perplexity. Taoyu yelled out to the ring, “Come on, you can do it! Don’t let that man you wrote that career-ending article about ruin your confidence in fighting him!” Bell looked at the young, crazy girl in wonderment. “Career-ending article?” he whispered to himself. He narrowed his eyes and looked at the ‘S’ logo upon my shirt. Beneath it displayed each fighter’s name, according to the person. I caught on to his vision, and looked below. My eyes widened as my name appeared, and I struggled to keep it hidden from Bell’s vision.

“You…you!” He cried, finally recognizing who I was. “You’re the guy who wrote that career-ending article about me!” Bell was brandishing his fist in an angry manner. “No…no, you got it all wrong! That crazy girl was just…just talking about…that guy…over there!” I said pointing to a random contestant in the crowd, who was Chinese. “Wha?” the Chinese man said, then continued to speak in the Mandarin Chinese language. I realized then…that that was a poor choice of my selection. Bell pounded his fist in his hand as he approached me. “For you, this match is gonna be a living…” And with that, the gong sounded, beginning the fateful match.