Viktor Vektor x Reader

Five

Lost in thought, you sat on a stool in the corner of the ring and stared intently at your opponent. No matter at which point you started a scan, her values did not change.

But there were no other modifications that could have caused you problems. She was big and brawny, with the kind of muscles that only men could naturally acquire. It was reasonable to assume that she drew half her strength from cyberware and not from her natural form as you did.

This could also be an advantage for you. Given you took advantage of it at the right moment.

Of course, that didn't change the fact that she was a serious opponent.

So why did they want to bribe you?

It didn't make sense, after all, she appeared superior to you in many ways. There had to be a weakness, something that made her easy prey.

Only what could it have been?

You just couldn't think of a reason. With your eyebrows drawn together, you raised your head to look at her once more before the fight would begin. Perhaps your human eyes could see something that a scan could not.

As if she was already the winner of this fight, she raised both arms in the air and roared to the crowd.

Cheers mingled with other shouts. Some were baying for blood. Others seemed to want to talk her down.

The first thing you noticed was that, unlike you, she had no protection around her hands. Neither boxing gloves nor bandages or anything like that. Instead, her knuckles were made of chrome.

Irritated, you stretched your neck.

Something was wrong. Her hands seemed strangely bent. A good ripper would have replaced the entire hands instead of just a few parts. You were no expert on the subject, but you knew that the smaller the cyberware, the more sensitive it was towards use.

Maybe you could manage to break her hands in battle. Or the knuckles would break on their own. But you'd have to take a few blows and you'd rather avoid that.

With a big grin on her face, she turned once in a circle so that everyone could admire her from all sides and finally turned to you.

"Today is your last day!",, she barked and clasped her hands together.

Somehow this gesture seemed strange to you. As if she was trying not to channel too much strength into her hands.

Was it painful?

Bored with the boast, you rolled your eyes, grabbed the ropes from the ring and pulled yourself to your feet. As you did so, your eyes wandered over your shoulder.

Some people were cheering for you too, though it was probably more due to the mood. There were no fans in the lowest division. Only onlookers.

Suddenly, however, your eyes caught on something. A blue shirt with bloodstains. Your eyebrows rose in surprise. The man had indeed looked for another place. However, from his new position he could watch your corner better.

Had he done that on purpose?

Did he want to see how you boxed?

No, there had to be a better explanation for that.

"Listen kiddo, don't get knocked out.", Dexter's voice brought you back to reality. "That'd be hella embarrassing for me."

Annoyed, you let out a groan.

"Shut up, Dex.", knuckles slapping together, you called to mind what it felt like to be beaten.

Your hands would be numb for the next few days, probably even burning where the skin had been scraped off. Fingers would shake and feel like dry branches.

You thought you could already taste the iron on your tongue. The feeling of blood sticking to your skin and a ringing that spread in your ears. You had not yet suffered any serious damage from the battles.

But that could change on this day.

"I hope you don't like your bones too much.", she snarled as you stepped up to have a face off as the rules required it before the fight. "Because I'll mush them."

Unimpressed, you just stared at her. She was cocky, yes, her now you knew that there had to be a way to win this. Perhaps an easy one even.

"I want a fair fight, alright.", the ref pushed his head between the two of you to have a word in private. "And if it isn't, at least offer a show."

You gifted him a glance from the side, still a blank face, and nodded. Then you raised a fist to your opponents eye level. It was a gesture of good sports spirit, to make sure that the respect was mutual.

But you also wanted her to bump your fist because of something else. You wanted to see if there was something on her hand that you could seen nor scan.

And she fell for it.

With a wide grin she gave you a fist bump, first top then bottom. It was only a brief touch but enough for you to flash a smirk.

Bingo, you thought and took position in your corner. Just as you had expected.

Satisfaction grew in your chest. Perhaps this would be the win that would make it possible to climb ranks. Next step would have been the fourth league. A minor one, but official and with real sponsors.

Money, basically. Clean and honest.

At the thought you couldn't help but chuckle to yourself.

Ready to fight, she began to prance on the spot on the other side of the ring. You could feel the ground tremble under her weight. She really was a monster of a woman. And you would show her how to behave.

The bell rang. The first round began.

"C'mon.", with a teasing gesture you wanted to lure her closer to you. "I'm right here."

It would not have been smart to come out of your cover to attack her first. That would have given her the opportunity to counterattack.

No, she had to attack you first, then you could weaken her cover. You knew exactly that it would work.

Because her hands had trembled at the fist bump.