roadtomastery
patreon
Chapter 82: Big Pack, Big Bro
🕑 Added 2023-01-10 17:36:01 +0000 UTCThe middle of the night found Brock rushing over rooftops and jumping from house to house. He landed a long leap, then did a tippity dance in celebration before continuing. The big dog bros who hid on the rooftops looked at him with disinterest, so he ignored them back.
Brock was happy because he had food!
Big Bro had arrived with a Big Sis and told him to go elsewhere. Brock didn’t understand that; they would just mate, right? What was the big deal?
But Brock was a good bro, so he listened. He wouldn’t betray his Big Bro’s trust again like the time he threw poop at the Big Bad Evil Bro. That was the previous Brock, the child. He was now a new Brock; a true brorilla.
He smashed against a lighting pole and kept his body close to it, easily weathering the impact. The Big Thought made his muscles strong. He then slid down the pole and walked into the darkness between two buildings, where the stink of fish and rotten food was invasive.
His little bros walked out of hiding. They were five dogs, with one black and larger than the others. When he’d first met them, they had been starving, and weak. Their ribs showed, and they attacked without restraint.
Now, they were bros.
The five dogs surrounded Brock, each leveling him an even stare and nodding. Brock nodded back. The dogs then flexed their muscles; two rose on their hind legs to show off their chests, two others clenched their front legs and neck, and one last dog flexed her neck muscles and barked so hard that a human from a nearby house yelled at them to reproduce.
Brock didn’t understand humans sometimes.
Regardless, he dropped his bag of food and flexed back. His bulging muscles were now clearly visible through his brown fur. Thick veins crisscrossed his skin, which was hard like stone.
The dog bros made faces of astonishment at his impeccable pecs—as they should. Brock then proceeded to give all of them a firm handshake, accompanied by a gaze and nod they bravely returned.
He finally unloaded his bag of many foods and let them feast. Salami was torn to pieces, cheese flew left and right, sausages were cracked down the middle, and roast chickens were eaten to the bone. The largest of the dogs carefully picked up the juiciest steak and deposited it at Brock’s feet.
Good, he thought, grabbing the steak and devouring it in three large bites. My little dog bros have learned respect.
All the meat was raw, but that was fine; it simply helped them work out their stomachs. As his Big Thought dictated, all muscles were important, even the invisible ones.
Their meal finished, Brock gathered his dogs around him and inspected them. They were strong now. Not as strong as he was, obviously, and they didn’t have Big Thoughts, but it would be enough.
Brock had a plan.
He couldn’t keep feeding these dogs from Big Bro’s food. He now realized this was disrespectful. If he wanted to have little bros, he ought to take care of them himself. Or, even better, teach them to take care of themselves.
They couldn’t steal food, as that might create more trouble for his Big Bro, and Brock refused to shame himself again like that. No, they couldn’t steal. But there were more avenues to food.
Namely, garbage.
The dogs had already been feeding on trash before he met them, but they weren’t too good at it. That was why they were so weak and skinny. Brock would now teach them the way.
He banged his chest and screamed at the sky to encourage his bros, who barked loudly themselves. It worked, of course. More humans shouted weird things at them, and one even threw a shoe from a window. Brock plucked it out of the air, sniffed it, then made a face as he pinched his nose and threw the shoe right back at its owner.
There came a crashing sound.
“What the—” A head poked out of the window, gazing with wonder at Brock and his little bros, who were already exiting the alley.
“Damn aliens…” the man said, then shook his head and returned to bed.
Brock led his little brotherhood through the streets, searching for a suitable target. He found it three alleys down. A large, green garbage bin twice his height and many times as long.
The dogs looked at him in confusion. They could smell the food inside, of course, but they had long learned that they couldn’t get it. The lid was closed!
Brock gave them a monkey smile, reached up to grab the edge of the lid, then lifted it. The little bros looked at him like he had just turned the sky pink.
He repeated the motion a few times to be sure they got it. They would have to figure out a way for the dog bros to do this themselves, but Brock was confident they’d manage. They were working out, after all.
Brock was aware that disturbing the town like this might bring complains to his Big Bro, but he also understood that his little bros needed to eat, and there was no other food around. If anything happened, Brock would handle it, and Big Bro would understand. Bros shouldn’t expose their bros, but they also shouldn’t shy away from the correct course of action.
Brock knew that because he had strong brain muscles.
“What’s all the—”
Two men rounded the corner, both stumbling as if exhausted from too much working out despite their large bellies. Brock could respect that. Therefore, the moment he noticed them, he turned sideways, grabbed his wrist with his other hand, and flexed his biceps to greet them as fellow bros.
The two men—both humans—froze.
“What the hell is that?” one stuttered out.
The second man had eyes bulging wide. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he replied. “Are those strays? I didn’t know the Integration City had strays.”
“Strays? That’s a bloody monkey!”
The two men seemed shocked, undoubtedly by Brock’s large muscles. He grinned smugly. He had a rough sense—one of those invisible muscles—for how strong a human was compared to him, and he could tell that, despite these two humans being larger than him, they were on the same level of strength.
Compared to Big Bro, Metal Bro, Big Big Bro, Father, and now Big Sis, it was a welcome breath of fresh air.
“They’re eating the rubbish… Should we shoo them away?” one of the men wondered aloud. That was a big mistake. Brock’s gaze instantly switched from respectful to challenging as he turned his head to stare straight into the man’s eyes. He cracked his knuckles and started beating at his chest to intimidate them.
If they wanted to harm his little bros, they would have to go through him.
“That thing’s Level 10 and Elite!” one of the men spoke in gibberish. “I ain’t bloody going.”
“Me neither! Let’s go, mate.”
The two men quickly scampered away, no doubt scared shitless by Brock’s stare. His eye muscles were pretty strong, after all. He trained them on what Big Bro called a mirror.
Brock turned around with a proud smile, but stopped his head mid-way. His eyes, properly worked-out as they were, had caught a glimpse of something. He squinted at the entrance of an alley and could barely make out a tiny white cat staring at his feasting little bros. Its little eyes held a mixture of fear and intense desire. Brock noticed that the cat was also skinny to the points its ribs showed.
That will not do. No cat bro shall hunger.
He grabbed a piece of meat from the spilled garbage—the non-humans threw away a lot of food—and waved it at the tiny white cat. Hesitantly at first, then boldly, the little animal darted out of the shadows and came to nibble on the meat. Brock caressed its dirty fur; though the cat tensed, it let him.
He nodded. This bro was tiny, but it had good manners. It would make a good addition to his little pack.
Wait! Brock realized. He must have had bright muscles inside his head because he would have sworn his eyes shone. If there is one cat bro...are there more? And other dog bros, too?
He thought back to the town’s size, and how all his five dog bros had been huddled together into a tiny corner. He jumped on a rooftop and inspected the town with his eyes, all the way to the sea, where the sun was about to rise.
He grinned. Big pack, big bro.
***
Jack awoke to a naked amazonian sprawled on his bed. The sun had barely glimpsed over the horizon, but his alarm clock was unerring.
“Mm? Good morning,” Vivi said. She rubbed her eyes, lifting her upper body from the white sheets. “What time is it?”
“Six.”
“What!?” She jumped up like a cat. Jack admired her form again as she hastily grabbed her clothes from where he’d dumped them on the floor. “Are you serious? We’re late!”
“What are you talking about? There’s still over an hour before the fights start.”
She struck him with a glare. “I envy your life, Jack Rust.”
“What?”
Vivi got dressed quickly as he watched her from the bed. Her previous glare turned into playful exasperation. “Like what you see?” she asked.
“Duh.”
“Well, enjoy it while you can. Who knows when the next time will be.”
“Hey, I have to train too, but there’s always time to let off steam.”
“For you, maybe…but I’m so busy. You can’t imagine how hard it is to run a faction AND a country—even if I’ve dumped most duties to a representative.”
“Amateur move. Just find a skilled person to handle everything and you can be carefree like me. Management is the devil.”
“I am the skilled person, Jack.” She rolled her eyes, then planted a kiss on his lips. “I’d love to go another round, but I really have to go.” She paused for a moment. “It really was great last night. I hadn’t had such fun in… God. I don’t even know how long. And I don’t mean just”—she motioned at the bed— “this. I hope you understand I don’t have the time or energy for a boyfriend right now, but…let’s do this again, okay? I like you.”
“As long as we don’t die,” Jack replied cheerfully, then winked at her. “I like you too.”
“Great. See you in an hour, Jack. Good luck today!”
“Same to you.”
And with a final kiss, she was gone. Jack stayed in bed for a little longer, going over last night in his head. “What a nice girl…” he thought.
His adopted father had once said that the best girls kept things simple. Thinking back, he was probably right. Jack’s story with Maria had been long, difficult, and complicated, and it still didn’t go anywhere. With Vivi, it just…happened.
Simple is good, complicated probably isn’t worth the hassle. Unless it is. Damn. And here I thought I’d got it.
He stood with a jump, then quickly got dressed and left the bedroom. He didn’t see Brock anywhere, but Master Shol was there, gazing at the rising sun through the wide kitchen window like he did every day.
“Good morning, Master,” Jack said respectfully.
“Morning, disciple. Good luck today.”
“Thank you.”
With that, Jack proceeded to the kitchen to have breakfast.
Their relationship had chilled significantly after yesterday’s altercation. It saddened Jack, but deep inside, he was feeling a hint of satisfaction, too. Master Shol had had his reasons, but in the end, he’d chosen to let Jack’s faction die. Jack couldn’t easily get past that, the same way that Master Shol apparently couldn’t get past Jack’s disrespect.
Both had their own views, and that was fine.
At least, Master Shol taught Jack as heartily as before. He was a man who devoted himself wholeheartedly to teaching a stranger even when their views differed on some things, and Jack respected that deeply.
He opened a cupboard to find food—meat had become his go-to—and couldn’t hold in his surprise. “Just how much does Brock eat?” he exclaimed. “I swear, the equivalent of a week’s meals disappear every night.”
“Little Brock is growing quickly. The food goes to a good cause,” Master Shol replied with a small, rare smile.
“I guess. If he already eats as much as a grown brorilla, I’m looking forward to his growth sprout.”
“The girl is kind, by the way,” Master Shol commented, looking back at the raising sun. “It’s a shame no immortal chose her. If you find the chance, tell her that her two Dao Roots are enough for now. She should focus on developing a full set of Dao Skills while meditating only on the Dao Root of the Flame. She should make that one into her Dao Seed, not the Dao Root of the River.”
Jack threw him an appreciative look. “I will, Master. Thank you. When should I start working on my Dao Seed, by the way?”
“When you have enough insight. You know the cycle of experience and introspection. You are in the experience phase; when you gather enough wisps of wisdom, you will know, and that will be the time to start meditative introspection. For now, focus on Drill and Parkour. You are approaching a breakthrough.”
“Yes, Master.” Jack bowed in thanks. Master Shol nodded. “Have you seen Brock? We should get going now.”
“He is rushing over as we speak. You will meet him at the district’s gate.”
“Great. Thank you, Master.”
Jack grabbed a loaf of bread—he had no time to eat or he’d miss his daily appointment with Edgar—and rushed out. As Master Shol had said, he saw Brock the moment he arrived at the gate of the participant’s district. The little ape was rushing the opposite way, towards Jack’s house, and slid to a halt when he saw Jack.
“Hey there, buddy,” Jack said, noticing the empty sack that Brock dragged along. It still smelled of food. “Where did you go? To eat by the sea?”
“Jack!” Edgar called out, approaching. His face had a big smile. “Right on time.”
“You too, man.” Jack smiled back. “Why so happy?”
“I developed a Dao Skill just an hour ago!” Edgar replied excitedly. “It’s— Oh, wait. I shouldn’t tell you. Maybe we’ll have to fight each other.”
Jack laughed. “Good call. I’m looking forward to seeing you in action. Let’s go.”
With Brock in tow, they crossed the Integration City and followed the familiar route to the arena. Jack also whispered his nightly adventures to Edgar, who said, “Dude, nice!” and high-fived him.
They were adults, and these things were no taboo. Sharing the information with their friends was natural.
Together, the three of them reached the arena and climbed to their usual spots. Jack and Edgar were the first there today, as they were half an hour early—it wasn’t common for both of them to be on time. They watched the arena fill up with a background of light chatter, and their allies arrived too.
Jack greeted Vivi with a bright smile, which she returned. He also relayed his master’s advice to her. The other members of Flame River gave him a smile and a nod, which he also returned.
Soon, the arena was packed full again, and the head judge took to the sky.
“Today marks the second day of the final phase,” she declared in a loud, magically-enhanced voice. “We will see four brilliant duels that will reduce the participants from eight to four. As always, the pairings will be randomized. I shall now announce the first fights.”
The scroll she held glowed blue as the randomizer—whatever it was—got to work. Jack watched with rapt attention. Honestly, almost everyone remaining was a beast. He was more confident against some people compared to others, but there was one person he really didn’t want to meet: Rufus Emberheart.
Jack had matched the leonine’s strike in the auction, but Rufus had attacked hastily and from a distance, while Jack had used a full-power blow. Truthfully, if they met now, Jack had little confidence in winning. Even more truthfully, Rufus would probably annihilate anyone he met. The other seven participants were playing Russian roulette.
The scroll finished glowing, and the head judge announced the day’s first fight. It was Jack, and he wasn’t fighting Rufus.
“Jack Rust and the Dao of the Fist versus Edgar Allano and the Dao of Magic!”
