Lion's Quest: Undefeated: A LitRPG Saga

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Lion's Quest: Undefeated: A LitRPG Saga Page 16

by Michael-Scott Earle


  “I’m on it, Leo. Shit, I’m sorry I didn’t work on it sooner. I’ll have an update for you by the time we land on the island. Let's get back in the car. I'll get on it right now.”

  We returned to the limo and climbed into the back seat. Garf and Jax both looked between Sal and me, but they must have guessed what had happened because they didn't say anything.

  Dale closed the door once he sat inside and the limo sped away. Sal didn't look at me; instead, he just pulled his digital tablet from his briefcase and stared intently at the screen. A pang of remorse danced through my stomach, and I almost thought about apologizing to my friend. I couldn't remember ever chewing him out over something, and the feeling wasn't something I was used to, but then I decided that I would work it out with him, and probably apologize a bunch, once he had finished his research.

  I wasn’t going to make the mistake of talking to Zarra unprepared again.

  Chapter 10

  Sal had his nose in his computer for the entire length of the trip to the tropical island, and even when we checked in at the resort, my manager told me he was going to be holed up in his bungalow for a few hours so that he could call his cousin about some of the legal stuff in the document. Part of me felt a little bad that I had to crack the whip on my friend, but another part of me felt like I’d been an asshole to Zarra.

  Jax and Garf’s girlfriends met us in the lobby after we had checked in at the resort. They were both models for this high-end lingerie-swimsuit company, and they had brought half a dozen of their beautiful model friends to hang out with us for the week.

  “Hey, ladies!” Jax greeted them, and his girlfriend, Sonya, introduced me to the women that I didn’t know.

  I tried to remember all of their names out of politeness, but my thoughts were elsewhere, and I only had enough energy to give each of the women a brief smile. They were all stupid beautiful, but I’d been around plenty of underwear models, and none of these girls interested me as much as Zarra. What was it about that strange woman? She made me feel like I was a high school kid crushing on his first girlfriend.

  “Sorry we ran a bit late,” Garf said as he gave his girlfriend a kiss on the cheek. Her name was Monique, and they had first started dating after she was on the cover of the annual Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition.

  “That’s okay sweetie. Sorry, I couldn’t stay with you the whole time at Disney. Had to do that quick shoot,” Monique said with a wink.

  “We are going to head down to the infinity pool. You three should put on your swimsuits and join us,” Sonya said. She was Ukrainian, and her accent was a blend of stoic Russian and softer ‘H’ sounding Polish.

  “Sounds good,” Jax said.

  “Yep, see you all in five minutes,” my Asian friend said as he nodded toward the side of the lobby that led to our private bungalows.

  My two friends and I walked out of doors and into the tropical sunlight of the resort property. We caught up to the men that were taking our luggage to our rooms, and the three men asked if they could get autographs once they brought our bags to our suites.

  “I’m going to hit the gym for an hour,” I said after we had walked for a handful of minutes behind the resort porters.

  “What? Dude, this is vacation time! You don’t need to work out. Besides, did you see Monique and Sonya’s friends? Daaaammmmmmn dude.” Jax scrunched his nose at me.

  “Just for an hour, then I’ll meet you guys. I need to work out some aggression,” I sighed.

  “Leo, is there something wrong?” Garf asked.

  “No, what do you mean? I just want to lift some. I haven’t worked out in three days.”

  “Yeah. It’s called a vacation. Calic isn’t even here.” Jax rolled his eyes as he talked.

  “More of a reason to go lift now. I don’t want to do it later. Calic is going to fucking hurt us when we get back. You guys know this right?” I laughed. Our buff trainer didn’t like breaks, and he’d been pissed off when Sal said he couldn’t kick my ass during my vacation.

  “So you aren’t being all aloof because of this new girl?” Garf asked.

  “Naw. I’m cool, guys.”

  “Okay,” the Asian man said as he glanced at me suspiciously. “But be quick okay? Cause I’d like to echo what my ever so eloquent friend Jax said earlier about the four hotties that our girlfriends brought. Daaammmmmmn. Pretty sure you are going to forget about this other girl and her game in the next few days.”

  “Ha. Maybe.” We had made it to a courtyard area with four bungalows facing each other. The group of them were right next to the sand and about two hundred yards from the ocean.

  “Everything is clear, Champ,” Dale said as he stepped out of the bungalow I guessed was mine. I saw Chip walk out of one of the other ones and nod to us from across the small grass quad area. Both of the bodyguards were on my payroll, but I asked them to watch out for Sal, Jax, and Garf when the four of us were together.

  “Thanks, bud. I’m going to change into some workout clothes and then hit the gym. Do you know where it is?”

  “It’s back past the main lobby building. I’ll take you there.”

  “Naw. That’s okay. Take a break for a bit,” I said as I followed the porter carrying my bags into my bungalow.

  “Champ. I know you are on vacation, but Chip and I are not. Let us do our job.” The big ex-SEAL frowned at me when he talked.

  “Ahh fine, but you’re going to spot me okay?” I laughed.

  “Looking forward to it, Champ. I’ll go let Chip know.”

  “Ask him to keep an eye on Sal. I don’t need both of you to spot me,” I said as I signed the porter’s photo of me and gave him a tip.

  “Got it. Don’t leave without me.” My bodyguard walked out with the porter.

  I changed out of my jeans and polo shirt and into my workout shorts and shirt. Then I gave the ocean a long look before I walked out of the door of my bungalow. Dale was waiting for me, and he led me back toward the lobby on the other side of the resort.

  The place was pretty empty. Sal had told me that the owners of the island had comped all of our rooms, but they were charging Sal’s “guests” an inflated rate so that the resort would be semi-private for the week. I only saw the staff and a few rich looking couples following their porters to their own bungalows.

  “Jax and Garf’s girlfriends are at the infinity pool. Any idea where it is?” I asked Dale as we walked past the lobby.

  “It is on the other side of this fence, Champ,” the muscular man said as he gestured with his finger. “The gym is up ahead.”

  “I see it.”

  “I already checked it out. You’ll be happy with it. I’m guessing they bought some stuff because they knew you were going to be here. All the iron looks new and polished.”

  “Excellent,” I stepped into the gym, gave it a look over, and smiled.

  The space was large, covered with black padded floor mats, and the ocean facing wall was made of glass. There was a towel cabinet, water cooler, half a dozen treadmills, a few exercise bikes, ellipticals, and one of the full body vector machines that were supposed to automatically work out every muscle in your body. The company had asked me to be their celebrity endorsement a few years ago, but I’d tried the unit and thought it sucked, so I refused their money. The room was empty of other resort guests, but a TV hung on each of the four walls, and they all played dance music set to Astafar Unlimited's in-game scenes.

  “Ahh, here is the good stuff,” I said to a smiling Dale when he led me past all the bullshit machines.

  In the corner of the room was a squat rack, a bench, an assortment of bars, a stack of bumper plates, a deluxe rack of dumbbells, an army of kettlebells, and a heavy hanging bag. This was my church, and it had been too many days since I’d given a confession.

  “What’s the plan?” Dale asked.

  “You gonna lift with me?”

  “Sure thing, Champ.”

  Dale was a strong fucker, and his mental game was tough, but h
is job didn’t involve spending four hours at the gym every day and eight hours of playing a virtual video game. I also didn’t have Calic screaming at me, and I was supposed to be on vacation, so I decided that a lighter than usual session would be appropriate.

  Dale wasn’t wearing great workout gear. He carried a pistol all day, every day, and was wearing a large polo shirt to conceal its bulk. He was also wearing tighter than optimal cotton pocket shorts and those topsider boat loafer shoes. He was an ex-SEAL though, and the man didn’t have a problem doing any of my warm up floor exercises.

  “Pull-ups first,” I said as I jumped up to the squat rack and grabbed the top. I did them “L-sit” style with my toes pointed, and my legs tensed out in front of me so that they were parallel to the floor. As soon as I finished my twenty, I dropped back to the ground and gestured for my bodyguard to take his turn.

  “I’m actually not in the mood for a vacation. Don’t feel like I’ve been working hard these last few months,” I said to Dale. My bodyguards were good for therapy sessions. Both of them were really smart dudes who didn’t sugar coat anything.

  “Eh,” he grunted as he finished his last few pull ups and then dropped to the mats. “Sal says you need a vacation. He’s a smart guy. Also, I agree with him. Ever since the championship you’ve been kind of off.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked as I grabbed onto the bar and lifted my chest up.

  “You haven’t been smiling as much. Or joking as much, but I can understand that all these public appearances are fucking annoying.” He laughed for a second. “Last Thanksgiving I was hanging out with the family back home. Little sister was there with her fiancé. I hadn’t met the guy yet, but he seemed nice enough. Kept bugging me about you. I don’t think people realize how much work you put in. They just think you play video games all day and have fun. Even when I broke down how many hours you train, and that you never take a day off, the kid still had stars in his eyes. These people only see your fame, and they don’t see your struggle.”

  “Yeah. It is work,” I said as I dropped back to the ground.

  “So you need a vacation sometimes. Even if you love what you do, it helps to take a break from it for a few weeks out of the year. You don’t ever take a break. I’ve seen plenty of burnout with the SEALs. I can recognize what you are going through.”

  Dale jumped up to do his pull ups, and I thought about what he said. The door opened to the room, and I turned to see a woman walk into the gym. She was gorgeous, tall, athletic, blonde, and wearing tight yoga pants. She flashed me a quick smile, put on her headphones, and then adjusted one of the stationary bikes by sitting on it a few times and then moving the saddle. I wondered if she was one of Sonya’s model friends from the lobby that I didn't recognize. I hadn't paid much attention to them.

  “What’s next?” my bodyguard said as he dropped to the ground.

  “Let’s do some military presses.” I walked over to the dumbbell rack and grabbed a pair of hundred pounders.

  “I’ll hit it when you finish your set,” Dale said as he glanced at the woman on the bike. She was completely ignoring us, but my bodyguard was used to groupies throwing themselves at me, and he positioned himself to intercept her if he needed.

  “Okay,” I grunted as I did my presses.

  A man came into the gym, and I saw Dale tense for half a second. The newcomer had gray hair, with a slightly bent back, and he smiled at us with a wrinkled face. The man walked over to the far side of the gym and then took a spot on one of the treadmills there.

  “You’re up,” I grunted as I set down the dumbbells back on the rack. I was lifting about twenty pounds lighter than I normally did, and I was only doing half the usual reps. My blood was still pumping through my heart, and I was starting to feel the euphoric sensation of a great workout.

  “I’m okay for a bit.” Dale’s voice wasn’t quite a whisper, but he wasn’t speaking loudly.

  “Something wrong?” I asked between breaths.

  “Naw. We are good.” The bodyguard smiled at me, and then nodded back at the weights. “Go hit it again.”

  I grabbed the weights and did ten more presses with them over my head. I could have probably done more weight on a full-length Olympic bar, but doing the movement with dumbbells was better for my supporting shoulder muscles since they had to work to keep the weight balanced over my head. I finished the set, put them down, and actually felt as if I could do another four sets, but I didn’t want to have a hard workout before the pool.

  The door to the gym opened, and one of the resort staff wheeled in a towel cart. The man had dark islander skin, and he turned his attention to the towel cabinet without looking at us.

  “Leo, let’s go,” Dale whispered.

  “Huh?” I asked as I grabbed the dumbbells again. “We are just getting started.”

  “Yeah, but let’s get out of here. Set down the dumbbells please.”

  “Why? What are you thinking?” I turned to face the space of the gym. The other three people looked completely harmless. Well, the woman looked like she was capable of easily breaking hearts.

  “When was the last time you were in a room with people that didn’t immediately want your autograph?”

  “Huh. Well, if you--” Sal stormed into the gym, and I stopped mid-sentence. His face was red, and it looked as if the man had been running.

  “Leo! Thank Yahweh. We gotta talk right now,” he said as he walked across the gym.

  “What’s up, Sal? What’s going on?” I asked as my eyes were suddenly drawn to the resort worker stocking the towels by the door.

  The man pulled something out of his cart, and the world slowed around me.

  It was a black pistol with a silencer attached to the barrel.

  “I’ve been making some more calls about your girlfriend and her company. Listen Champ, you--”

  “Get down!” Dale expected this, and he jumped in front of me as the uniformed assassin raised the pistol toward us.

  “Shit!” I shouted.

  There were some popping sounds; as if the towel man was going to town on bubble wrap. The dumbbells in my hand bucked back against my chest as they blocked the bullets that the assassin shot through Dale. I gasped with surprise when the weights hit me, and I felt my torso jerk backward. I was suddenly off balance and backpedaled to keep upright.

  The back of Dale’s white polo shirt was covered with bloody holes, but the ex-SEAL was still standing, and he pointed his own gun at the shooter. An unsilenced gunshot rang out in the gym, and I saw the other man’s face disappear into a cloud of brains, blood, and red skull fragments.

  “Are you okay?” Dale shouted as he looked back over his shoulder at me.

  “I think so,” I stared down at the dumbbells clutched to my chest and saw small pockmarks on the surface of their polished bumpers. The giant hunks of iron had just accidently saved my life.

  I dropped the weights and dashed to my guard’s side. Dale’s shirt was mostly red now, and his blood was dripping all over the black rubber tiles of the gym like rain.

  Then I noticed Sal.

  The small Jewish man was lying on his back six feet from Dale. He was on his side, and I saw that he was clutching his chest and stomach. A crimson dribble escaped from his fingers, and my friend’s face was white.

  “No!” I forgot all about my guard and stepped over to Sal. “Dale, Sal is hit!”

  “I know. Just gurraggh!” the ex-SEAL choked, and I turned my head back around.

  The blonde woman had cut Dale’s neck wide open with a knife.

  He reached up with one hand to try and stanch the wound while he dove backward toward where Sal and I were. I also saw that the old man was running toward the body of the assassin that Dale had shot, and he dove toward the gun in the dead man’s hands.

  Shit. This was all sorts of bad.

  Dale seemed to realize that the other man was reaching for the uniformed assassin’s gun, and he made a last shot with his own pistol. The boom echoed
in the small room like a canon, and the bullet took the old man in the shoulder. The assassin spun around like a tossed football, and he crashed on top of the mostly faceless corpse of his partner.

  The woman dove toward Dale and her knife plunged into the muscular man’s chest at the heart. I had no doubt in my mind that my friend was already on death’s door, but the woman’s attack sealed the deal, and his body immediately went limp.

  I kicked out with my left foot and hit her in the face. She was a pro, though, and she twisted her neck at the last moment so that the attack landed mostly on her cheek. She kind of leaned back with the movement, and yanked her blade out of Dale’s dead body with an upward slash that almost cut my hamstring in half. Fortunately, I’d guessed that she would do that, and I’d yanked my leg back as soon as I struck her.

  We both jumped to our feet, and I moved so that I stood between the woman and Sal. I doubted that my manager was actually her target, but I wasn’t going to let her kill my other friend. I raised my hands over my face at an angle, hunched my back a bit, and took a few deep breaths to steady my racing adrenaline.

  Part of me screamed with grief. Dale was dead, and Sal was probably on his way there, but another part of me, the cold warrior that was a world champion video game player, worked at light speed to puzzle out my victory.

  The situation looked grim.

  They were often underrated, but knives were one of the most deadly hand weapons. They were small and easy to conceal. They made no sound when one attacked with them, and they could do an incredible amount of irreversible damage in only a few seconds. In some ways, I would have preferred to fight someone with a pistol at this close of range. Guns were only dangerous if you were standing directly in the path of the bullet, and I could easily trap a gun away from me, disarm an opponent, and then beat them to death. Knives were almost impossible to trap without getting seriously cut, and an opponent could move their arm to attack at almost any angle. Knives were fucking scary, and someone trained in a martial art that specialized in short blade work, like Filipino Silat or Kali, were top of the food chain in the martial arts world.

 

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