Threaded Mode | Linear Mode

Prince Adeyemi · (05-06-2023)

“It’s simple really.

Hunting redemption.

Step by step chasing after the shadows of old.

Bit by bit finding growth and freeing myself from chains of the past.

Pushing forward while holding your ground.

Took an L, earn the W.

Simplicity is what makes progress possible -

Extenuating circumstances, generational trauma, yes the mountain is stacked higher for some than others.

Much higher even.

But the path up is simple… It’s just up.

And that’s where I’m headed XWF.

All the way up.

Tomorrow through Noah Jackson.

Then through the rest of the roster.

Wonderfully Wargames allows me to do just that -

To dismantle this business fighter by fighter all in one night.

Sure, someone’s going to have to pick me, and I haven’t been making too many friends.

But if anyone can feel my hunger, and see my path…

Then let’s get ready to rumble, let’s go all the way up.”

Isaiah finds himself seated on the apron of his gym’s wrestling ring - the ropes a faded amber once radiant red. His body leans back on it, and his breathing is heavy, there’s a man off-focus leaning against the ropes inside of the ring, just as exhausted. Isaiah tries to catch his breath, breathing in slowly just as his phone pings next to him.

”No phones when ya’ training Iz, you should know that.”

”It’s Chae, Jon.”

”Ain’t it always.”

The man at the back grunts in annoyance as he walks up towards Isaiah and leans over the ropes behind him. As he comes into frame, the avid MMA fan would recognize him as Lazar Stojadinovic, the BronxBomber, himself.

”Ya call an old friend up, get him to spar with ya, and then can’t even keep the girlfriend outta yo’ head.”

”It’ll take a minute”

His hand has already brought his phone up to his. His eyebrows raise for a second before narrowing as they scan through the update on his screen.

”She’s… What the hell is she doing.”

”What’s up?

”I think… I think Chae just came out of retirement.”

”She’s 24 Iz, she’s barely had a career, she’s tryna box again?”

”No, she’s at the XWF.”

Lazar’s eyes widen, and a mischievous smiles creeps onto his face.

”Without telling you? Spicy, maybe she’s finna come for your title, Champ”

Lazar lays it in thick, playfully hitting Isaiah in the shoulder with a gloved hand. The gesture both chides the Television Champ and reminds him that it’s time to get back to training. Isaiah puts his phone down, still confused, unsure why his GIRLFRIEND would go behind his back to sign for the XWF.

If she wanted to fight all she had to do was ask him, right?

It was simple.

It would’ve been nice to have a friend anyways, right?

It was simple.

It’s not like she hadn’t gotten her hands dirty once or twice already. But having her and Ezekiel as background enforcers was one thing… But having her be part of the ROSTER? A signed talent?

What was going on?

Isaiah pushes himself back to his feet and slides into the ring, placing a mouthguard back into place before getting into an unorthodox boxing stance, one more akin to the MMA ring than a boxing one.

”I love teaching boxers why they ain’t no fighter.”

”Shut up before I knock you out.”

The two clash in a series of strikes, with Lazar always ready to take the champion down to the mat. They tussle for a couple of minutes before the screen fades to black.

“I hope that last match spooked you.

That all your delusions of superiority were cut deeply short as you passed out in the ring next to me.

It most definitely spooked me.

It infuriated me.

To retain my championship so poorly, after having just won it by the skin of my teeth.

Jackson, I know I won’t be satisfied till I crush you completely, till I prove to myself at the thousands watching that I am better than you.

And it’s my determination to proving it against you that’ll make this next match simple.

Because while you, and most every loud-mouthed git in this company is used to running their mouths and belittling their opponents like we aren’t all signed to the top wrestling promotion in the world.

I am dedicated to PROVING that I’m better than each one of you through sheer hard work, vicious grit and ambition.

Because when I get beat, over and over and over again… I don’t roll over to sleep and wonder who Theo might book me to give me an easy win.

I don’t look out for the charity handouts.

I take what comes on my plate - while keeping my hungry eyes on those that beat me.

Yes, I’m obsessed - I’m obsessed because every loss makes my blood boil. Every loss hurts because it’s standing proof that I’m not on the way to the top.

This next match is simple because I’ll be undoing another speck of dirt on my record - a lighter one than Dolly had inflicted on me, but a speck nonetheless.

Nothing short of perfection will be enough for me to dominate this industry.

Not loss-less perfection.

But perfection refined in the fires of loss and overcoming those losses.

Perfection refined in the hunt for redemption.

A draw was cute, and probably a wake-up call for your arrogance Jackson.

But once I’m done with you tomorrow, once I’m towering over you on the top of a ladder, that draw will be forgotten.

All I, you and the fans will remember is the cheer of:

“King! King! King!”

It’s that simple.”

Ezekiel was doing much better, he’s gotten discharged and could move around mostly alright. He was still very much sore from the attack and was in no shape to be sparring so he busied himself with the business side of things - both the Isaiah King brand and the locating of Empire, their shadowy pursuers.

Seated in a backroom at the gym, with the sound of Isaiah and Lazar sparring faintly coming through the door, Ezekiel glances up at a wall of screens. They were all old LCD screens on non-flat TVs mounted to a wall with wires hanging messily about. The TV’s were connected to DVD players, and a massive built-CPU that had a fan the size of his face.

The feeds were all shaky, but clear, some moving through the streets of Harlem while others were stationary.

They seemed to be feeds coming from phone cameras, either held by people on the street or placed in tactical locations. Isaiah had reached out to the kids in the community, asking them to help him protect his town from gangfare. The kids had all looked up to him, it just meant downloading an app that gave him access to their cameras when they were out and about.

Isaiah had even let Officer Derrick Woods, Jeremiah’s dad know what he was doing. Officer Woods had given Isaiah a surprise visit the week before, and the two had sat down to figure out how they’d find Jeremiah together. Crowdsourcing surveillance was very CCP China but if it worked, and was voluntary… Woods wasn’t going to say anything.

Creepy - but if it worked it worked. Sherlock had the Baker Street Irregulars, Isaiah had the Harlem Children’s Zone youth.

And that meant Ezekiel had eyes on their city.

He hadn’t thought of Harlem as belonging to him in a long time, not since they were still in the gang officially. Since they’d left he’d kept up with some of his contacts, picking up new strains from them when it came through and bumping a hit or two with some boys over a couple of beers when he was feeling lonely.

Ezekiel was a man of relationships, and while Isaiah and Chae could cut ties quickly after being convinced of the dangers of staying with Jeremiah… Ezekiel didn’t find it nearly as easy.

They were all his friends, not just Jeremiah but the guys on the ground too. Ezekiel had a knack for fitting in and even the oldies of the rivaling Empire were friends of his. People just liked the smiley, personable boy. He used to have his own dice games and betting books going, it didn't matter what gang you were in, if Ezekiel thought you were cool you could play.

So when they had to leave… He didn’t quite. He didn’t want to lose Isaiah and Chae, and acknowledged his lifespan was severely shortened staying in a gang run by a reckless maniac… But his friends were his friends.

So now, as he looked through the screens scanning for any sight of Empire activity - he was keeping his eye on HIS city, looking for HIS… Friends.

When did shit get so complicated?

It used to be so simple.

”I wonder if you’re back at your partner's feet, checking in with Ned Kaye on why his tips and tricks didn’t work. Why his training program wasn’t enough for you to get the job done.

Taking a leaf out of Kaye’s book just about brought you up to my level.

For all that shit you spewed about condescending to mine, YOU barely made it out of that ring.

But with Kaye firing blanks for you, where will you go next? Dolly Waters perhaps? Maybe you’ll dig Jenny Myst out of her hole?

Two disgusting honorless pieces of trash that’ll tell you that you just have to stick your thumbs in my eyes or run me over with an ambulance.

And you can do those things Jackson. It’s a LADDER match, you can do whatever the damn well the King of Xtreme wants.

Show me how bloodthirsty you really are and I’ll still crush you.

Show me how reckless you can be and I’ll still overcome you.

I’ll do it all because MY ceiling is the sky.

You’ll fall at my feet because your ceiling was three years ago.

It’s that simple.”

After finishing their sparring session, Lazar and Isaiah slip out of the ring and walk towards the back where Ezekiel was at. Lazar had known Isaiah through the fighting circles, Isaiah had helped him out with striking work even as Lazar made his name in the state as an all-round fighter. He’s known all about legal The King’s Court: Jeremiah, Ezekiel, Isaiah & Chae, and even the illegal side of their moniker.

The two walk into the backroom with ice-cold bottles of water in each hand and glance at the wall of security footage Ezekiel was staring at.

”Any news, sorry we can’t be out there Zeke, tomorrow’s too important.”

”With that belt you’re always gonna have another fight to fight though, there’ll never be time to find Jeremiah.”

”Mmm, that’s why he has us.”

Ezekiel knew how he could best serve his friend - Isaiah should be able to focus on the fighting, that’s why they left. Isaiah keeps the lights on, he helps them live life properly. And Ezekiel? He’d do anything to keep Isaiah living out their dream.

”We’ll find them time. That coward can’t hunt us forever.”

Just as the words left his mouth, every feed in the room cuts to black.

”Wha-what’s goin’ on-”

The screen flicker back to life, each screen filled with a horribly familiar face.

”’Miah.”

”Good to see you too Iz, or hear you rather. And was that ol’ Stoja I heard in the room too? Haven’t caught up with ya’ in a hot minute have I? Not since being chucked in the ringer.”

Jeremiah was in high spirits, the joy in his voice sending chills up Isaiah’s spine.

”You got us bugged then?”

Jeremiah ignores him completely.

”You even had the balls to catch up with ol’ Derrick eh? That dead-beat dad-o-mine.”

There was a growing malice in his voice as he said his father’s name.

”Yeah, much easier to find people who hate you than to find you.”

Isaiah could feel a headache building up again, if Jeremiah had them bugged then he knew about their street surveillance, that made sense to why everything was so quiet all week after the shenanigans of the last month.

”Well, you’re probably right. I don’t think you’ll be finding me anytime soon Iz. And sorry about that Zeke my boy, I didn’t mean for you to get caught in the crossfire, you know I’d neeeeeeever want you hurt.”

His tone was sickening.

”Some fine way of showing that Jer.”

”But enough with the small talk, here’s the rub. Daddy’s back in business baby - and the band is coming back together.

I got us some fine lil street-rats too.

It took a little politicking, but as I’m sure you’ve all noticed… Young Empire is kind of mine. Oh how the turn tables. Eh?

I got enough of em’ to make the four of us generals again. Street generals.

We can own Harlem Iz.

We can be back on top Zeke.

Hell, Lazar you can hop on board too!

It’s about damn time there was a new King in town - whip out the palm trees.”

Isaiah stared at the screen incredulously, did Jeremiah want them to work together again? To go back to gangfare?

”So the way you woo us back into your clutches… Is try and kill us?

Jeremiah laughs with a cackle.

”Would ya’ numbskulls join me if you didn’t think I could kill you? Come on Iz, you only left cos you thought I wouldn’t hurt ya, and back then you were right… But now? Now things aren’t so simple.”

”Come tell me about it,Jer.”

Iz had adopted a more vicious tone, venom in his voice. He almost spat out that last sentence.

”Nah, sounds like I haven’t quite been able to break ya’ back and tame ya yet. Surprising… Doesn’t seem like Chae’s there with ya… Maybe she’ll be able to convince you.”

The screen abruptly cuts to black, leaving the room silent less the sound of the whirring CPU.

Where was Chae?

When did things get quite so complicated?

Threaded Mode \| Linear Mode Hunting Redemption V: Simplicity
Author	Message