XII - You Should've Seen this Coming

And so James ended up waking in his brand new room, in terrible shape and drifting between being barely conscious and severely unconscious.

If it wasn't for the searing pain that assaulted every inch of his body, James would've forced himself back to sleep to escape his cell's horrid stench.

While far from being a medic or a healer, James was well versed in getting his ass beat then having to treat himself. Thanks to his many experiences, he ended up learning a few tricks of the trade, one of them being the ability to analyze his body to see how much was actually broken.

It was something that he usually did rather easily with a quick burst of magus within his body that would flood his senses and tell him what was out of place, similar to a sensor. But since he didn't have a magus core he would have to stick to the basics.

After a few seconds of painful writhing and squirming, James concluded that his anatomy was practically unrecognizable.

The blow to his side from the giant had pulverized most of his ribs, and the impact from skidding down the street opened up all of his fresh wounds.

Flies buzzed around what remained of his right arm, the dried crimson that stained it covering up the goriest bits and keeping him from upheaving what little he was forced to scarf down during dinner.

Other than those two, the rest of his body only suffered from a plethora of cuts and bruises, plus the countless fractures nearly all of his other bones had.

The most James could do to take his mind off his horrible condition was to ponder the annoyingly vague lines of what he supposed was a prophecy that Sera had spouted off.

"The cold that stands strong within the flames of... was she talking about how Thena managed to survive against the igneel?"

While it seemed like a perfectly logical conclusion, James knew firsthand that prophecies were anything but straightforward.

A loud grating sound like stones grinding on even rougher stones broke him out of his trance.

The dark area in front of him suddenly became awash with light, a glowing rectangle appearing right in the middle of the slimy brick wall. Rats, cockroaches, and other vermin scurried away like vampires from the rising sun.

James squinted as he blinked spots out of his eyes, trying to make sense of the three figures walking out of the summoned doorway.

The glow from the doorway dimmed to a bearable light that illuminated every square inch of his disgusting cell, while also managing to keep his eyes safe from going permanently blind.

With some proper lighting around, James finally got his first good look at the trio in front of him. As soon as he did, a passing conversation he had with Thena earlier in the evening floated back up in the recesses of his mind.

James had asked her in between a bite of grub what she was doing in the 'glorious Xyrcadia City', to which she just averted her eyes and answered that she was evading some people who she owed some money.

Well, it seemed the loan sharks had finally found her.

Literal loan sharks.

Oh, and a pig as well.

In front of James stood a plump man who was short enough to give Thena a run for her money. His horrible blond toupee, shiny golden suit, and crooked fleshy nose made him the perfect visualization of a pig trying to disguise itself as a mafia boss.

If that wasn't enough, he was also flanked on either side by appalling bodybuilder sharks with legs instead of tails.

"A-are those shark thropes?" James asked in mild disbelief.

In response to his question, the sharks bared their razor-sharp teeth and flexed their muscles at him, leaving James confused on whether he should be scared of the pointy chompers or laugh his guts out at the absurdity of the situation.

Before he could decide, the not-quite-a-mafia-boss interrupted with a loud cough, holding his stubby arms out in a placating gesture as he motioned for his henchmen to calm down.

"Apologies for my men. Sharks can't make any sound, so my two palookas here can't answer your question." The man sent James a crooked smile as his 'palookas' nodded behind him in affirmation.

If James' assumptions were correct, the shark men were a variant of therianthropes. There are many types of therianthropes, but they all mean the same thing; half-human and half-animal.

Most therianthropes have land animals as their other half, most commonly being animals like goats, dogs, cats, and the like. Air and sea animals are rarer, but not a special occurrence. And while all therianthropes greatly vary, they have one thing in common.

Humans are scared shitless of them.

"Truly sorry by the way for putting you on the spot earlier, couldn't have a lad like you chasing after the broad I've been hunting down for weeks. Still, spending a couple of hours in this little vacation joint is surely better than us taking you for a ride. See?"

The loan shark ended his talk with an expectant face that James really couldn't respond to. After all, he hadn't understood a lick of the terrible slang that had exited the man's mouth and invaded his ears... partly because he wasn't exactly paying that much attention in the first place.

James decided to go with a perfected response that he used to give to his teachers back when he was in school whenever he got called to answer a question in the middle of his afternoon nap; an awkward half-smile partnered with a rhythmic nodding of the head.

The pig boss narrowed his beady eyes at James for a split second before reverting back to a jolly smile that made him look worse than he already did previously.

He leaned in close to James, his rancid breath tickling James' earlobes and destroying his sense of smell. "Now then, if you don't want to stay here in this dreary can, I have some beef you could handle. Remember that you're behind the eight ball right now, so if you don't want to get bumped and wish to see the skirt again, I suggest you take this hit."

The boss reached inside his coat pocket, pulling out a shiny flyer for an event that James had absolutely zero fond memories of.

"You can't be serious."

Despite how hard it was to keep his eyes open, James could recognize the signature font and lettering anywhere.

It was an invitation for the annual X Tournament.

"Why would you even want me to be your champion? I don't have a magus core, not to mention the fact that I've been beat up to hell and back."

The mafia boss just kept on smiling creepily, answering James in between controlled fits of gurgling laughter. "My mouthpiece told me about a swell dewdropper lousy with luck that I could make a lot of dough from, and he's never swayed me wrong."

He turned around and snapped his fingers, a cue for his two shark palookas to snap to attention and listen to what he had to say. Not that they could actually hear him.

"Bill, Ted, get the jobbie out of his bracelets. He'll take the offer if he doesn't want me to send his mother some flowers."

Ignoring the zany fact that the mafia boss' henchmen were named Bill and Ted, James absentmindedly lifted his arms up for the sharks to uncuff as he analyzed his choices in his mind.

He could either try his luck going up against a rich enemy who probably had a personal army at his beck and call, or fight in the deadliest and most intense competition on the continent.

Both were equally terrible choices and detrimental to his overall health.

James sighed as the chains wrapped around his arms fell to the ground with a loud clang, knowing that he didn't really have a choice in the matter at all.

He nodded his head, resigned to his fate. Whether or not Bill and Ted the not-so-friendly sharks were happy about his choice was hard to tell, their gentle grip as they pulled him onto his feet and their toothy sneers contrasted each other too much for James to make any assumptions.

As the chains that were wrapped around his arms fell to the ground with a clang, James couldn't shake the feeling out of his mind that something was amiss.

Sure, he could probably chalk it up to the fact that there were so many unknowns that had bombarded him in the past day, let alone week.

A terrorist ghoul. A suspicious attack by an immortal lizard in the middle of a city. The Magus Brigade going AWOL. And now, getting kidnapped by a mafia boss and being forcefully entered into the X Tournament.

If he didn't know any better, James would think the gods were deliberately tossing random problems in his path to have something entertaining to watch while they lounged around in their heavenly palaces.

Wrinkles popped up on James' forehead as he sunk deeper into thought, frowning at the migraine all his troubles were giving him.

With a silent prayer to Sera that was more of a scathing curse than an invocation, James passed through the glowing door and hoped for the best.

After all, if he was going to be sponsored by a mafia boss for the most important tournament known to man, then he would probably get world-class treatment... right?