Tag: drunken master

#16 Barefoot Bastard

Barefoot Bastard

The Barefoot Bastard’s origins are unknown, though his ancestry can be traced back to the sunken islands once known as the Philippines. All that is known is that he, along with a bunch of other children, was subjected to a controversial/experimental nanobot treatment in an attempt to make superhuman circus performers who could be controlled and shut down by their ringmasters. Most of the children died within a few years — somehow, this one did not. After that he fought his way up through the Pan-Asian gladiatorial arenas and made warriors from Tehran to Ulan Bator so angry when he beat them that they called him “that barefoot bastard” rather than speak his name. So he took their curse and made it his name, made it a point of pride. When men curse him, he smiles. When their hate moves them to attack him, he smiles even wider.

Now he travels to Ultravia, to face the so-called best fighters on the globe, and make them scream his name in terror and anger.

He’s learned over the years to hear the hum of the nanotech beasts swarming in his bloodstream, in every cell. When he calms his mind, he can hear their voices, feel them rebuilding him. When he practices his kata, he begins to understand the way they dance, and where to pool them so a punch sends an opponent through a wall, or when to let them gather in his legs, so to leap across a rooftop or unleash a flurry of spinning kicks. It even works better when he’s drunk – the foreign alcohol excites the bots to no end, compelling them to race, roar, multiply. And he surfs into their excitement, and when he and his nanite symbiotes are in sync, he is unstoppable. Like when he fought the entire audience of the Tokyo Arena because they wouldn’t let him leave an honorably defeated opponent alive. But he has to keep the little critters moving, for they are greedy. They need energy, and if he does not keep moving, keep the adrenaline flowing, and consume enough food, drink, and minerals to provide enough power for the nanites, they will turn —  swarm him, and eat his body, and take on some other form.

I WON’T LET THIS HAPPEN! He chants, as a mantra. I WILL FIGHT!

The hum of the nanobeasts swells, into something he recognizes as a response:
YES! FIGHT! FIGHT, YOU BAREFOOT BASTARD! FIGHT UNTIL THERE IS NOTHING LEFT!