Criminal X : Epitome Of Evil

Brownie's opponent was a criminal. The same as everyone else.

But what's different was he was the first criminal whose name was revealed to everyone.

Well, the criminal himself told his name. Brownie asked him though.

Anyway, he was Brock Listener.

Very Original Pablo thought and just waited for the damn thing to start.

Brock cracked his fists and stepped forward.

Brownie steeled himself, took a deep breath and stepped forward as well.

Now both the slave and criminal stood in front of each other and everyone waited for the showdown.

They needed no counts, no green light, the fight had already begun. It's just no hands were thrown yet.

Brownie held his halberd with all the grip strength he could manage as his heart threatened to beat itself to death.

He had chosen halberd as his weapon because he had a little experience with it as compared to other weapons.

When he was a kid, his grandmother was a proficient halberd expert. She wielded it with grace and she had taught him how to use it to some extent.

But she died after a few months, and the little Brownie was left with no one to look after him. His parents were already dead. He only had his grandmother.

But from nowhere, a man came to him who called himself his uncle and the next thing he knew he was a slave for sale in Quintus.

Nevertheless, he didn't forget his grandma and her teachings.

Brock, the criminal, stared at the boy in front of him but he didn't start the fight.

Brownie did the same but he won't start the fight himself. He wasn't confident of winning if he made the first move. He wasn't like Lashes.

Therefore, both fighters stood on hold and everyone didn't say anything.

Five minutes went on like that and Brock spat on the ground.

"This is boring. Fine. I will go first. You stay afraid like the bitch you are."

Brock raised his right hand.

Brownie raised his halberd.

Brock showed no response and just reached out his hand.

Brownie became vigilant and used the only weapon he had.

He swung the halberd at Brock.

However, what he expected didn't happen.

He had closed his eyes seeing Brock's hand coming towards him and he instantly regretted it.

Closing eyes in a fight to the death was suicide. And Brownie did just that.

He believed that Brock would certainly use this to attack him so after a second, he opened his eyes.

He had already swung his halberd and he had hit something as well.

But the impact felt strange.

It didn't feel like he landed a blow, it felt like his halberd was stopped by something.

Brownie saw the matter and what he saw widened his eyes.

His halberd was definitely stopped by something and what stopped it was nothing but Brock's right hand.

The criminal held the sharp blade of the helberd with his bare hands as a line of blood appeared on his palm.

Brownie was out of wits seeing that and he was amazed at the fearlessness of the man. If he saw a blade coming at him, he would try to dodge. But this man, he held the blade itself.

And he was smiling at that.

What kind of opponent did I got?

Brock kept holding the blade and his smile never faded.

"You lack power, kid. You should have swung this thing with the intent to take my head off. You lack conviction, young man."

Brownie gulped. "Can I have it back? I can't move it."

Brock laughed. "Not at all. It's my turn now. I will show you what conviction looks like."

The slave found sweat all over his palms and Brock raised his left hand.

Then, the criminal was already tired of all that waiting, so he wasted no time and…

BAAM!

Landed a punch straight to Brownie's face.

Brownie felt all kinds of emotions existing in the world, instead of happiness.

The punch made his brain dance around his head and if he focused, he was sure that he would be able to see stars in the bright day.

But for some reason, his hands stayed on the handle of his halberd.

Yes, the punch was strong. Stronger than anything he faced in his thirteen years of life, but he gritted his teeth and didn't leave his halberd.

Everyone saw the broken nose and bloodied face of the slave but all of them clapped a little for enduring it and not flying away.

Also, they were amazed at the strength the man held. He had simply used his brute strength, he had landed a simple punch with no Ego in the play and yet, it was enough to kill someone.

Luckily, Brownie wasn't that someone who would die by that punch and Brock beamed in another wide smile.

"I am glad you didn't die. Now I can have more fun. Thanks for enduring it, boy."

Brock raised his left hand again.

Brownie gritted his teeth and braced himself for one more punch.

But this time, he removed his left hand from the handle of the halberd. Now he was holding it with only his right hand.

No one paid attention to it, not even Brock. But Pablo did see that.

What's he going to do with that?

Pablo wondered and decided to wait.

Whatever Brownie had to do, he had to do it fast as he wouldn't be able to handle those heavy punches from Brock. He would die for sure if he stayed like a punching bag.

The slave also knew that, that's why he thanked his grandma.

His grandma has told him one thing and one very useful and original thing about halberds that only a few people knew about.

The halberds are made for killing and other things that involve cutting. The blade at the front of it is steady and unmoving. And if you found yourself against a strong man or a bear in the forest and your halberd is useless, then, my child, there is one secret thing you should know about this weapon. There are two types of Halberds. If you have the first type then this won't work, but if you have the second type, you should do what I am about to tell you. If you do that, then mark my words…

Brownie moved his left hand to the desired place he wanted on the halberd and recalled the last words of his grandma.

There is no better killer than you.