Fighter's Paradise: Halimaw

Once again, another regular day. Jack tends to the shop as Leonardo follows his training regime, of course with adjusted intensity and rest times.

"I wonder what we should use the fight money on. We should probably buy ourselves some nicer clothing, especially for Leonardo. I didn't notice the first time we met, but his hoodie was already tearing apart at the seams."

Jack thinks to himself at the counter. Then suddenly, a man in a tank top appears.

"Hey, are you Jack Wayne?'

The man asks.

"Who's asking?" "Ah right, I should introduce myself. My name is Bartolomew Santos. I heard that you were the one managing Leonardo DeGuzman." "I take it that you're challenging him then?" "Heh, your intuition even as an old man is still as good as ever. I'm ready any time, just show up at an Inferno arena and I'll be there. See you."

Bartolemew walks off. Jack knows a strong man when he sees one, and Bartolomew is no joke. The scars alone are a sign of the countless battles he's been through.

"Ah well, I should go shopping for some clothes."

Jack closes the store and goes shopping at a nearby clothing shop. Meanwhile, Leonardo stops by the beach on his run, letting out a deep breath.

"I really can't help it can I? It's quite hard to suppress when there are so many strong fighters…I'm terrified of myself."

He mutters to himself, before continuing his run. Leonardo tries to supplement shadow boxing to his run every few kilometers. It's going to be hard to get used to throwing punches and kicks while tired, but it will really help in long matches where both opponents are playing passively. Leonardo's body has grown well despite their impoverished lifestyle. Jack knows how to make the most out of the least, to maximize Leonardo's growth. From his sparring matches and the match with Narso, Jack noticed that Leonardo specializes in kicks, often using his punches as bait to deliver either a low kick to the calf or thigh, or a front kick to the solar plexus.

While it is not a bad strategy, it does get monotonous. It doesn't matter how strong or how fast Leonardo gets if he doesn't land anything. Jack thought about teaching him how to time his attacks better, and how to switch up attack combinations on the fly to catch opponents off guard. Yes, it was basic, but no one can become a master without mastering the basics. Then, a familiar face appears. It's Narso, all covered in bandages.

"Yo! Seems like you've recovered well, unlike me who's still in this state." "I do recover pretty fast. So, what're you doing here?" "I live around this area, and I heard something from the grapevine. Bartolomew wants to fight you." "Bartolomew? Who's that?" "Bartolomew Santos, a fighter in Inferno with a record of 50 wins and no losses. He's the one who gifted me my first loss, and the one who gave me the huge scar on my chest." "I see, thanks for the info, I'll be continuing my run."

Leonardo departs as Narso sits down on a nearby rock. Out of nowhere, Bartolomew appears and sits next to him.

"Knew you'd be here." "What do you want Babart?" "Nothing, I just heard you lost before our rematch. I can tell that he's a skilled martial artist from the way you're bandaged up, but still, do describe how he was in the ring." "…He was an absolute monster. He took my punches like they were nothing and returned strikes that hurt even more than yours. And there was something off about him. I've fought "wild" people before, but near the end of the fight it was like I was fighting a beast of legend. For the first time ever since I've become a fighter, I felt fear."

Bartolomew covers his mouth, thinking about what Narso just said.

"Someone made you afraid? He must really be a beast." "I mean, his epithet is 'The Halimaw.'" "You would think we would have heard of someone that strong before, but no. I also tried to look into him but his first fight with a record was his fight against you." "Well, you should probably get ready for your fight. From what I can tell, he's just itching for another fight." "Don't worry, I will take him down."

Bartolomew gets up and leaves. Meanwhile, back at the shop, Leonardo and Jack are having lunch.

"I think you've bulked enough, so do tone down on the rice." "Aw, come on that's like the best part." "Just double the amount of meat you're eating and also don't forget your vegetables." "Come on I'm not a kid anymore." "Vegetables help give the body vital nutrients; I used to neglect them in my early days but once I started adding them to my diet plan, I could immediately tell the difference." "Okay alright. Anything to help me get stronger." "Mhm. Speaking of strength, somebody came here challenging you." "Was his name Bartolomew Santos?" "Yeah, how do you know that?" "Narso told me while I was out on a run. Oh, and funny thing, Narso lives around here. I wonder why we've never crossed paths before. "Hmm, I see. I'm guessing Narso told you about what kind of fighter he is?" "Only that he was the one to give him his first loss. Still, I can't wait to find out how strong he truly is."

Leonardo is giddy with excitement. He's thirsty for another fight even though he just fought recently.

"Oh yeah, while you were out training, I got you these."

Jack reaches for a bag. In it were some new clothes. Two pairs of tank tops, two pairs of shorts, and another black jacket.

"I realized that your clothes were getting kind of raggedy, so I bought you these." "Oh wow, thanks Mr. Jack. I'll go try them on after I've taken a bath, don't wanna make em smell when they're brand new."

Leonardo sports an innocent smile. It's like he's a kid in a man's body.

"Y'know, I've never really had the chance to ask but, you're so young, how did you get those scars?"

Leonardo stops smiling, and his expression turns pale.

"It's…it's a long story. One I'd rather forget." "Oh, sorry I didn't know-" "No, no. It's fine, I was going to tell you eventually. I was born in a squatter area. My father was…a piece of garbage, to say the least. My mother was always sick and was bedridden. I had a few siblings, but I've repressed my memory so much that I don't remember how many I had. One day, I got into a fight with my father. He grabbed some nearby bottles and smacked me with them, and in a fit of rage I took one of the broken pieces and stabbed him in the neck. I don't know what happened to him afterwards, but I ran away from home. Since then, I've been on the streets, offering what little manpower I could give to whoever would hire me. Sometimes I would get a normal, peaceful construction worker job where all I did was haul heavy materials. But most of jobs involved fighting, and sometimes even killing. But there was something wrong. I thought to myself, "I shouldn't be enjoying hurting others." But before I knew it the people who've heard of me started calling me "The Halimaw" because I fight like a wild animal would. I don't have any official records, since my work is obviously illegal, and the money is handed to me under the table." "Wait but, you were really technical in that match against Narso." "That was thanks to your training. Before that, all I had to go off on was the way you fought back during the Paraiso days. My jabs were sloppy, my kicks had bad form, but there was always something that let me beat people that I shouldn't be able to. The thing is, sometimes I lose control. The people I worked with on jobs that require fighting described me as "A smiling demon." Apparently, after I start smiling, I get way more violent and start employing moves that I would normally never do, like bites, groin shots, and hair grabs, and I have no memory of what happens during fights where I lose control."

"I see. I will help you turn your animalistic side into a weapon you can use, instead of being a downside that makes you lose control." "I thought…" "What?" "I thought you'd be more freaked out. I'm more like an animal than I am a man in that sense." "Don't be silly, from a fighter's perspective, you've got an extra quirk that can turn even the toughest fights into your favor. I'm not trying to change you; I'm trying to help you improve. A fighter must use everything he can to win."

Leonardo looks at him dumbfounded, but he smiles.

"Thank you. No one has really accepted me like that. I'm going to sleep early, good luck with the shop."

He says as he goes to his room. Jack finishes up his food and starts cleaning up. He then continues to tend to the shop for a few hours before he too heads to bed.

"From what I sensed of him, that Bartolomew guy is no joke, but I have faith that Leonardo will be able to beat him. "

Next morning, Leonardo decided to have an extra rest day. He realized that it wasn't a good idea to have a full, intense exercise before fight night. He spends the day helping Jack out with the shop. The night arrives, and soon the two head out once more to the abandoned warehouse. Once there, they noticed that there were a lot more spectators this time around. It seems Bartolomew is much more popular than Narso.

"His long reach is going to be a pain to overcome." "Don't worry, I got this."

Leonardo enters the ring of people, with Bartolomew already waiting for him on the opposite side.

"Glad you could make it." "A fighter should always accept any challenge that comes his way." "I like the way you think."

The two start warming up by stretching.

"Fighters are you ready!?" "Of course." "Ready." "Then…BEGIN!!!"

The fight starts and Bartolomew immediately throws a huge haymaker, making the best use of his long reach. Leonardo dodges it, but Bartolomew throws in a couple more heavy winded strikes. Leonardo backs off to assess his fighting style.

"What is this? Does he…not know any martial arts?"

His intuition was correct. Bartolomew is not formally trained in any martial art. He got this far through brute strength alone. Leonardo keeps his distance, waiting for the next strike. Bartolomew throws another long-winded punch, but Leonardo dodges it and hits him with a body blow, but this was exactly the moment Bartolomew was waiting for. At the close distance Leonardo was in, he was caught in Bartolomew's territory. Bartolomew was able to land a heavy strike towards Leonardo's face, sending him back a few meters. His face has been heavily bruised, and his nose is dripping red with blood.

"One hit. One hit was all it took for that much damage. I underestimated him. I'll be more careful this time."

Bartolomew closes the distance with yet another wide swing. Leonardo guards his upper body, but it was a feint as Bartolomew lands a kick straight to the body, once again sending Leonardo flying. Leonardo spits out blood but recomposes himself. He then takes the initiative on the next exchange, going for a jab rush to distract Bartolomew. This lets him land a low kick to the thigh. Bartolomew's stunned, and Leonardo has grabbed him by the neck to deliver a knee kick, staggering Bartolomew.

Bartolomew recovers in time to throw yet another wide swing, but Leonardo dodges as he goes in for a hook to the chin, tilting Bartolomew's vision and causing him to black out for a second. Leonardo then pushes him away with a front kick. Bartolomew, now woken up from the front kick, goes in for a tackle. Leonardo tries to stop the tackle, but once again Bartolomew employs a feint to hit Leonardo with an uppercut, stunning him. The two fighters back off to recompose themselves.

"I must say, for a man without proper training you sure are skilled." "How did you know I don't have proper training? Doesn't matter, I'll beat you trained or not."

Leonardo goes for a jab rush, Bartolomew blocks, but it was a setup for a front kick to the solar plexus. He's writhing in pain, Leonardo takes this chance to strike Bartolomew in the temple, knocking his brain around. Bartolomew, still dizzy, tries to go for another tackle. He gets Leonardo in a bear hug, but Leonardo hits a 12-6 elbow directly on his traps. Bartolomew drops to the ground, which Leonardo follows up with a soccer kick, sending him flat on his back. Bartolomew gets up and guards, expecting Leonardo to follow up, but Leonardo is just standing there, trying not to smile.

"What's wrong? Something funny?"

Leonardo snaps out of it.

"Sorry, let's continue."

Leonardo jabs, slightly stunning Bartolomew. Bartolomew recovers, and delivers a wide elbow to Leonardo's temple, causing him to black out for a second. Leonardo recovers, and counters with a knee kick which gets blocked. Bartolomew goes for a wide overhead swing, but Leonardo hits him with a calf kick, and a low kick to the thigh. He then tries another knee, knocking Bartolomew back. Bartolomew tries to go for a kick, but Leonardo catches the kick and drops him to the ground. Bartolomew, not one to be knocked out by a ground and pound, punches Leonardo off before he could start it. Bartolomew gets up but is immediately met with a hook to the chin. Leonardo follows up with more strikes to the chin, wobbling Bartolomew's brain around. Bartolomew can't recover, and Leonardo goes for a running dropkick to finish the fight. It lands square on his face, sending him flying and knocking him out. Leonardo looks at his shaking hands before one of them gets grabbed by the referee.

"And the winner is…LEONARDO "THE HALIMAW" DEGUZMAN!!!"

Leonardo then lets out a small grin.

"It almost fully came out, but now that I've experienced a match where I've tried to suppress it, I think I can master it."

Leonardo earned a total of 8,700PhP from the match. Once again, Leonardo and Jack go to a nearby clinic to patch up his wounds. After which, they head home.

"Hmmm." "What's on your mind?" "The Paraiso Organization is going to start sending out invitations to the Grand Tournament soon. We probably don't have enough time to gain enough notoriety to be invited, but I at least know a way for you to participate." "And what's that?" "At the nearby airport. If you say a specific code to an airline passenger service assistant, they will direct you to a secret area that has a private plane. Of course, most of the people riding that plane are other fighters." "I see, sounds interesting. I know it's still a few months from now, but I just can't wait to see the amazing fighters I'm going to meet!"

The two arrive home and start preparing dinner. Meanwhile, in a private room in a high-rise building, a young man wearing an expensive suit and glasses, sporting a classy haircut with silver hair sits on his chair looking out at the city. He sighs before smiling.

"Heh, I wonder what kind of fighters are going to show up to this year's tournament."

He mutters to himself, while looking at a pile of enclosed letters. Each of them seems to be addressed to different fighters all around the world, from the United States to Japan.

"Now…let's start sending out these invitations."

The man says, putting them into a box. He gives the box to one of his agents who then proceeds to give out the letters for the other agents to send across the world. Six months until the Paraiso Grand Tournament, the countdown begins now!