Chapter 3

"You think he's dead?"

"Daniel what do we do?"

Daniel, that's a name he hadn't heard in a long time.

"Where the heck am I?" Gabriel picked himself up, somehow he found the canvas that was supposed to break his fall replaced by the sidewalk.

The still air of the stadium, vibrating with a the echoes of a thousand discerning fans, replaced, by the shrill voices of prepubescent teenagers.

"He's still ok, maybe a little brain damage," A boy kneeled in front of him. "But that won't make much of a difference for your dumb brain does it?"

Gabriel's eyed the kid in front of him, eyelids widening with every second as if he'd seen a ghost.

It was a splitting image to a face he had in memory, but one that was nearly 30 years old. 'Maybe that guy had a son,' he thought to himself, 'Did he come to see today's fight and brought his family?'

He wasn't given much time to figure anything out however as a slap had suddenly come his way.

"Hey!" The kid shouted as his hand flew by, but it found itself simply catching air.

The boy looked at his hand confused, feeling a sense of incoherence between his action and the feedback he received. He was pretty sure the slap was going to hit dead centre on the smaller boy's cheek but found his body swinging sideways from a lack of contact.

It was the same feeling one got when they thought they had judged the distance between each step on a stair correctly, but when they're walking down, their foot doesn't make contact with where their brain had perceived the floor to be, causing them to feel like they're falling for a second.

"Daniel stop messing around, one of the teachers is going to come any minute and we're gonna get in trouble," another boy snapped him out of his confusion.

Daniel decided to chalk the phenomena he had just experienced up to luck, unfortunately the cause of it was still his main target.

"Hey, you're still not answering me, have you gone deaf!?" This time he used a fist, coming in alot harder and faster than his previous slap, but it was destined to turn out even worse than the first time around.

On average, 780 punches would be thrown between two people in a boxing match. That would mean one side had to dodge, block or take about 390 punches per match.

Using that number, a man with 88 professional fights under his belt like Gabriel would've dealt with nearly 35,000 in his career.

But Gabriel was a much more defensive boxer, meaning a majority of the punches thrown in a match would be his adversary's instead of his own.

If one wanted to count each and every punch he'd had thrown at him, they'd find that number being somewhere above 50,000.

And that was just in the professional ring… only God knew how many punches he'd set up for this man to take in his life.

Those ranged from amateurish ones that he barely had to bother with, and the ones that could probably kill him if they connected.

And even the least among those would make the punch that was currently aimed at him look like it was coming at a snail's pace.

It barely grazed his cheek, as it passed by. It's originator, found himself flailing as he fell forward, unable to counter the motion since it hadn't reached it's target, his kneeling position leaving little room for him to regain his balance.

A short fall onto the asphalt, dealing no damage to the boy.

The only victim being his clean polo shirt, now stained with the grime Gabriel had previously been laying in.

But the look he gave was anything but grateful for the fact. Gritting his teeth, Daniel picked himself up and entered into a stance.

It was similar to the ones some MMA fighters used, seeming almost comical on the proportions of a kid.

But strangely Gabriel's trained senses were picking up some danger from it. And as if to confirm that feeling, Daniel's leg began to radiate an erratic yellowish aura.

"We were just gonna play with you, but now you've gone and made Daniel get serious," One of the kids spat.

"Won't that kill him though?" Another asked.

"So what? His family's so poor that they'd be happy to receive some money in exchange for a useless son like him."

His mind had been quite foggy until now, like an observer in someone else's dream, even dodging those hands previously was simply by instinct.

But the emergence of this… thing, whatever it was, had snapped him back to this reality.

Picking himself up, he finally realized that he wasn't even the same height any more. The kids he thought were simply messing around up till this point were all at least a head taller than him.

Finally he looked down at his hands.

And a shocked scream came out of his mouth, startling everyone there.

They were no longer the rugged, calloused hands he'd tempered through years of fighting, instead replaced with scrawny little limbs that would probably snap like a twig of he put some pressure on it.

Looking around, the reality of it all had just begun flooding into him. Why this alleyway was so familiar to him, why this kid looked like someone he knew.

Everything was happening according to his past memories. Judging from his body, and the people surrounding him, about when he was 13 years old.

Of course sans the glowing leg thingy.

"Maybe I'm being punked…" he tried to deny what was going on as he felt around his body.

The surrounding boys could only watch him strangely as he did so.

"What's wrong with him?"

"Maybe he really did get brain damaged from the fall just now."

"He could just be pretending to stall for time, maybe he's trying to attract the teachers with that scream."

"Well it doesn't really matter cause he's dead!" Daniel interrupted getting ready to throw a kick.

"HEY! What're you kids doing?" An adult voice echoed.

"Dammit!" David's face visibly paled as the glow dissipated.

Immediately the whole group scattered in many directions, leaving the crowded alleyway empty in mere seconds.

The source of that voice was a pilipino man in his 30s, another voice and face he could remember very clearly.

"Mr. Christian?" He stated in the form of a question, mainly because he wasn't so sure himself.

The same man in his memories was the basketball/sports coach of the school he went to back in the day, and this man was certainly that man.

Except that the man in his memories was sporting a double chin and sizeable belly which he hid under an oversized shirt, this one could probably compete in a bodybuilding competition and win with no trouble at all.

"Gabe, are you okay?" He looked around.

"Uh-huh," he responded, but the man wasn't focusing on him, instead searching the area despite no one else being around.

He went into a crouch at one spot and scrutinized asphalt.

At first Gabriel thought that maybe his physical attributes weren't the only thing that was different this time around, maybe some things changed too, specifically in the noggin area of this man.

That was until he remembered that that was the point Daniel was standing in. Precisely where his one glowing leg was perched before he turned it off.

"Did someone use a battle skill here?" He asked finally turning his attention to the still confused Gabe.

"A what?" he asked honestly.

Which was apparently interpreted a little differently to the adult's ear. "Look Gabe I know you're a good kid and you don't want the other kids to get into trouble, but this way those kids will keep coming for you, and if they decide to start using battle skills then it won't end with you just getting a few scratches much next time around."

"Oh... Huh?" He kinda got the gist of what the man was saying, even before he always took care of him and was the one who gave him one of the most important encounters of his life, but the moment he started talking about "battle skills" his young brain started to go haywire.

It was like watching a person talk about things in a cartoon but as if they were real.

"Looks like you're still shaken up, let's take you to the infirmary just in case huh bud?" Mr.Christian finally decided upon looking at Gabe's still confused face.