XIII - Rocks are More Flexible than You Think

James hated his current life.

Not because he was forced to wake up at the crack of dawn then run ten laps in the gym.

Neither because all of his meals were planned out by 'expert nutritionists' to boost his physicality.

Not even because he was forced to undergo rigorous training while pretty much every single bone in his body was broken.

No, it was a reason much worse than all the reasons one could think of combined.

The toilets were under renovation and James had to answer the call of nature as soon as possible.

The only other (clean) toilets around were at the other end of the base, a good five-minute run away.

Cursing whichever deity had toilets or diarrhea under their domain, James hightailed it as fast as he could to the opposite end of the base. His eyes darted to and fro, scanning his surroundings as he tried to plot the fastest route to the bathroom.

As he zoomed down the dimly lit concrete hallways that made up the Don's base, James forced his mind off his predicament and let his thoughts wander.

The past few days had been a painful experience. But it was one that James had welcomed with open arms. Mostly because, despite how ironic it might sound, the strict schedule he had been stuck with granted him an escape.

An escape from the uncertainty and chaos that he would usually encounter in his daily life. Chaos that he could easily avoid now that he wasn't allowed to leave the premises of the Don's hideout until the day of the tournament.

Sure, the fact that Bill and Ted followed him around whenever he was on break was kind of suffocating, but watching two large sharks try to be incognito while tailing him was a sight for sore eyes.

James hadn't come into contact with the mafia boss, who he soon learned was called 'The Don' by everyone in his group, ever since he was released from his prison cell. Instead, his two aquatic lackeys served as his messengers, passing information between him and the Don.

Naturally, the first thing James asked about was Thena. And while the Don's answer was vaguer than a heretic trying to disprove magus, he was at least somewhat sure that she was safe and sound.

Well... perhaps not sound, but safe at the very least.

After that, the Don refused to part with any more information about her, and only sent messages about his training regime.

Speaking of which, James' training regime sucked ass.

He was expecting top-of-the-line training equipment and perhaps some brand new state-of-the-art battle gear. Instead, he got a horrendous and dilapidated gym that looked like it hadn't been used in quite some time, partnered with a trainer that could only be described as the devil incarnate.

Whenever he slacked off even just a little bit, his trainer-that-shall-not-be-named came bearing down on him with the gift of her whip. The fact that he was doing activities that would make the Magus Brigade's everyday routines look like child's play all while he was recovering from a cacophony of broken bones only served to make his trainer push him harder.

James had the inkling of a feeling that his trainer was a wee bit mental. Not that he'd ever say that to his trainer's face, or anywhere near his trainer at all.

Looking past all that, he could at least see the fruits of all his effort. He felt better than he ever had in decades, his body and instincts primed and honed for battle.

Not that he was being cocky, but James was feeling good about his chances if he were forced to fight someone on par with a Magus Brigade member. The main reason being the fact that he was now able to go toe-to-toe with the mysterious monster that had turned his ribs into mush not too many nights ago...

----------*line break*----------

James stared at the large figure that stepped into the gym, his wide eyes unblinking as he took in the sight before him.

"You're telling me... that the thing that attacked me that night was a golem?!"

And true enough, right there in front of him standing in all its glory, was a 30-foot tall amalgamation of rocks and pebbles in the shape of something vaguely humanesque.

It definitely looked special, at least compared to other golems. It was very thin and had limbs nearly twice as long as its torso. The odd proportions made James think of the few primates he had seen once or twice in his ventures to jungles in the past.

"This is a joke, right?"

His doubts were blown away in a flash as the golem started doing a series of horrifyingly fascinating stretches that would make even the most talented of acrobats squirm in discomfort if they saw it.

The golem could bend its limbs in any direction, then bend its already bent limbs as if they were simply folding chairs. Such lithe and flexibility was something top researchers and scientists always said were impossible for golems to have, and once again, James pondered how incompetent the government's subordinates really were.

James stroked his jaw as he thought about it, pausing as a tiny yet important detail surfaced in the corners of his mind.

"Wait, I'm pretty sure the thing I fought that night had skin. I saw bruises form on its hands when I shot it."

As if thought it was waiting for James to bring that up, the golem untangled itself from its pretzel-like state and snapped to attention.

At this point in time, James thought he had seen everything and could no longer be surprised. Boy was he wrong yet again.

[DISGUISE!]

Despite not having any holes or orifices anywhere on its body, the golem somehow managed to speak. And not just speak, but cast a rather complicated spell as well.

According to the few times James had paid attention in his classes, the disguise spell tore apart your physical essence and rebuilt it into the image you wanted it to look like, using your magus core as a tether so that your body wouldn't dissolve into nothingness.

While James had ever experienced it personally, his classmates had described the ordeal well enough. And to quote one of his rather outspoken acquaintances, it felt like his flesh and bones had been torn off all at the same time, then jammed right back in just a few seconds later.

Needless to say, James never came close to even trying the spell out from that day onwards.

However, the disguise spell the golem had used seemed to be acting a lot differently.

Instead of the golem getting pulverized and reformed like James was expecting, a thin layer of viscous ooze seeped out of the many cracks in its body. The ooze had a revolting stench that reminded him a lot of viscera, something he hadn't had the dishonor to smell in quite a while.

The mire spread itself all over the golem's body, bubbling and frothing as it expanded and covered up any area that was still rock. Soon enough, the golem now looked like a very disproportioned human.

Of course, there was one very important facet of the human body that had been omitted from the golem's anatomy, an unnerving smooth bump there in its stead. James' third leg shivered in unease just looking at it.

James scowled at the golem before sighing in defeat. "Alright, fine. While I still have some concerns about how you even came to be, I accept that I was beaten by a golem."

James swore that the golem gave him a cheeky grin, lack of a face be damned, but before he could get a closer look he was interrupted by a manic laugh from behind.

A heavy fist slammed into his shoulder, nearly dislocating it as James forced an icy stare at none other than his 'personal trainer'.

The Don said he had to pull a lot of strings to get him this trainer, but James couldn't help but wonder if the Don's effort was really worth it.

James' trainer just rubbed him in all the wrong ways, occasionally literally.

He batted away the incoming hand that was trying to steal a rub at his hair, glaring at his trainer that just gave him a less-than-sincere 'sorry' expression.

James' trainer was dressed up in her usual bizarre style. She wore a chainmail halter top painted in streaks of black and red, partly covered up by a yellow leather jacket with the sleeves ripped off. Her leggings and heels sported a similar aberrant color scheme that threatened to burn his eyes out. It was all topped off with a plain white mask that covered up her face, no visible markings on it except for a small red dot that could have easily just been some dirt.

"And beaten by a golem you shall be for days to come, in preparation for the tournament."

James stared aghast, his gaze flickering from the unmoving golem to his trainer shivering in delight at the prospect of her trainee getting beaten to a pulp.

"May Opho have mercy on me."