Chapter 165 - Keep Fighting

Moll is strolled into the infirmary room, the doctors quickly placing him on a bed as Midori, Kuro, and Hamadeen walk to his side. One doctor carefully lifted his left arm, making note of his injury. Another inspected the injury he had through the chest closely.

Doctor 1: This is fascinating… Moll, can you please attempt to clench your fist?

Moll nodded weakly, his left fist closing. The doctor that inspected his chest turned to his colleague, a look of shock on his face.

Doctor 2: From first glance, not a single organ was damaged through this gash. The ribs took some chipping, but everything seems nearly intact…

Doctor 1: Same with his arm… Each of his nerves are receptive and it seems he has no noticeable damage to his ligaments.

Midori: I see… Lorisian's skill with the sword was so impressive that he was able to avoid everything vital while also dealing impactful damage. He is even more formidable than I had presumed…

Kuro: No fucking way! That armored bitch is some sort of surgeon?

Hamadeen: Bro didn't even seem certified.

Doctor 2: Whether or not he was a surgeon, the way he stabbed into Moll was nothing short of mastery.

Doctor 1: Ignoring the obvious muscle tears and rib chipping, Moll should be able to make a full recovery.

Hamadeen: That's… incredible.

Midori turned to Moll, who struggled to keep one eye open.

Midori: Looks like you'll be able to fight in the next round after all, Moll. You got lucky you were up against such a skillful opponent.

Moll: Heh… I bet so…

The door slammed open, getting the attention of the three that stood at the foot of Moll's bed. Zenzo heaved as he walked over to his friend.

Zenzo: Moll, please tell me you'll be okay! I can't bear to lose you!

Kuro: Hey old fuck, the doctors already said he'll be able to make a full recovery.

Zenzo, now with tears in his eyes, dropped his head.

Zenzo: That's… that's amazing news… I don't know what I'd do if Moll had perished here…

Doctor 1: Yes, he'll be able to make a full recovery. But if he intends to ever fight again, I would deeply recommend he forfeits the tournament now.

Hamadeen and Kuro perked their heads up, turning to the doctor.

Hamadeen: Wait… You mean…

Doctor 2: If Moll intends to fight again in the future, his injuries need time to recover. We'll be able to stitch him back together, but that doesn't change the fact that his body needs time to rebuild the bone and muscles that were deeply damaged by all these slashes.

Doctor 1: And we'll need time to remove any possible shards of metal that may have been lodged in his body. If I remember correctly, he was stabbed by a sword that shattered during the match.

Kuro: That's right. He destroyed the other dude's sword after pulling it out.

Midori: I see. I guess not everything can be flawless at this point. But if forfeiting is the best bet…

Moll: I'll… keep fighting…

Moll's words caught the attention of everyone in the room. Zenzo leaned forward with tears streaming down his face.

Zenzo: You can't! If you keep fighting here, you'll never fight again! You might seriously injure yourself!

Midori: He's correct, Moll. If you don't want to end your career here, then accept your limits. There is no need to make a foolish decision.

Moll glanced between his friends, closing his eyes as his smile widened on his face. He pulled his arm away from one doctor, sitting up on his bed as his eyes slowly opened. His eyes seemed fierce as everyone looked into them.

Moll: This tournament… is proving to be one of the most important so far. Despite Daymond's performance, the fighters in the other bracket are in much better condition than us over here. If I lose this opportunity… I'll be missing out on history. So I'll keep fighting… and make this tournament worth remembering.

Hamadeen: Bro… that sounds so stupid… but, I can't argue with your wishes.

Kuro: You sure fucking can! Listen here, old bastard! You have more than just yourself to look out for in this organization! Hamadeen is right here and you hardly give a rat's ass about him!

Moll: He's all that's left of The Collective, Kuro. I'll soon be too old to stay, meaning Hamadeen will be the only one left to represent us. Isn't that sad? Why keep him when he can be free like you are?

Kuro opened his mouth, but no words could form. He glanced at Hamadeen, who seemed to have accepted the fate his friend had chosen. Kuro tucked his hands into his pockets and turned his back to the injured fighter.

Kuro: Whatever, do what you want.

Zenzo looked down at his watch, noticing the time.

Zenzo: Almost time for the preparations of the next match. I need to head back out. But Moll… it was great being able to be by your side. Make sure you go all the way to the end, alright?

Hamadeen: You got this, bro.

Midori: You need to impose the wisdom of the past onto the present, after all.

Moll nodded before slumping back into the bed. The doctors immediately got to work as Midori sat on a chair that faced the bed. Kuro and Hamadeen faced each other and nodded.

Hamadeen: We're going to go watch the next matches, so take care guys.

The group split, Hamadeen and Kuro rushed down the halls as they headed to the seating area around the ring.

…

Quintin followed the several paramedics that brought Lorisian into the infirmary room. They quickly got to work on his amputated arm, with one immediately aiming for his helmet.

Quintin: Hey-

Jason: I wouldn't recommend that.

Quintin and the paramedics turned to the door, seeing the red cladded fighter enter the room with a casual stroll.

Jason: That idiot likes to have his helmet on at almost all times. Pretty sure he even sleeps in it. So if you plan to make sure oxygen reaches him, have the guy missing legs handle it.

Quintin: What are you doing here?

Jason: C'mon, you can't forget that I'm Lorisian's friend. I mean, sure, he's older than me. But I like the guy, and I know you don't want to have random guys take off his helmet. So you go do it.

Quintin glared at Jason before turning to his uncle, rolling his wheelchair as he moved beside his bed. A paramedic quickly explained how to place the oxygen mask, Quintin slowly lifted the mask so only the lower half of Lorisian's face was revealed. He instantly noticed that Lorisian's body reacted to the movement of his helmet, but he softly smiled.

Quintin: It's okay, it isn't coming off.

Quintin placed the oxygen mask on his uncle and lowered the helmet the best he could. Jason grabbed the handles at the back of the wheelchair and pulled Quintin back.

Jason: I hope they respect letting him keep his helmet. I think the rest of his armor is fine to remove, but I'll let you decide that.

Quintin: Yeah… I agree. Only best for him to get the proper treatment he needs.

The paramedics nodded and worked to remove all the armor minus the helmet. Jason took Quintin out of the room, both now waiting in the hallway.

Quintin: I never really got a chance to talk to you before… But what do you know about my uncle?

Jason: He was a pretty good guy. He was hard to understand at first, but it grew on me. And he just wouldn't stop talking about how great his nephew was.

Quintin let out a laugh as he looked up at the ceiling light.

Quintin: He did, did he? Despite how much I hated him, he never could hate me. It's a shame, since he was the only family I had left.

Jason: You sure? He said your mother was left alone in the village.

Quintin: I never stayed in contact with her. He was my first contact with my family in a while. Seems like he did everything to stay in contact, though.

Jason: Yeah, family seems to be pretty big to him. But looks like he'll need to recover for quite some time now.

Quintin: Yeah…

Quintin's head dropped, staring intensely at the ground. He gritted his teeth as his eyes trembled, his mouth quivering.

Jason: Hey, I know you want to stay by him, but I think it's best if you give the doctors all the room they need to work on him. Why not go interact with some of the other fighters?

Quintin: Why should I? I've been nothing but mean to everyone I met. It isn't right for me to be able to be so carefree like that. I've hurt everyone that cared about me, and I should pay for that.

Jason: Negative talk like that never gets you anywhere, you know. If you keep trying to inflict isolation on yourself, you'll only hurt those close to you more. I'd know.

Quintin: Seeing how you're in this business at such a young age, I'd imagine isolation is something you're quite familiar with.

Jason: Without a doubt. But that's behind me now. I got good friends that help me at every turn. Like my good pal Peter. Dude's like a genius.

Quintin: Suck up to him some more, why don't you?

Jason: Yeah, I get that a lot too. For now, let's get you acquainted with some of the other fighters. It'll be fun.

As Jason raised his arms to signal to the hallway leading to the arena, they heard a pair of footsteps running towards them. Hamadeen and Kuro ran into them with smiles on their faces.

Hamadeen: Yo, Jason. Quite a coincidence running into you here.

Jason: It sure is. And it looks like those bandages are really good at keeping you together, huh?

Kuro: Listen here, bitch! You hurt my best buddy, I won't stand for that!

Hamadeen: Calm down, bro. Any disagreements we had are left in the ring. No need to hate each other outside of it.

Kuro crossed his arms and grumbled to himself. Quintin's eyes darted between the two. Jason quickly noticed this and gestured to Hamadeen.

Jason: Hey, I won't be able to keep Quintin company, so you mind taking him to see the next fight? A fight with the Head is one you just can't miss.

Hamadeen: Sure!

Quintin: Wait-!

Hamadeen immediately grabbed onto the handles of Quintin's wheelchair and ran with Kuro down the hall. Jason watched as he placed his hands behind his head and walked away.

Jason: That worked out nicely. I'll need to get ready. I got a blindfolded guy to beat.