Chapter 9: Chapter Nine, The Rank Trails

Oliver slowly faded into consciousness in a pitch black room. The extreme comfort made going back to sleep seem infinitely more tempting, so he closed his eyes and let his thoughts go sleepily. 

 

What a day I had… He thought to himself. I should've trusted Marilyn a lot sooner… idiot me. 

 

He turned to his side, trying to get comfortable, when he face planted into something warm and soft. 

 

Hm? What's this? He thought sleepily, groping around in the dark. He would've thought a pillow, maybe, but it was too firm. ...wait, there's two of them? He thought. He could definitely feel two. What could it— 

 

"Oliver, stop. M'trying to sleep," Marilyn said sleepily, inches from him in the dark. 

 

"Marilyn?!??" He tried to yell. 

"Don't worry," she yawned, I'll let you touch them later.

 

Oliver shot up in bed. It was dark, but he could definitely make out the shape of Marilyn in his bed. 

 

"What are you doing in my house?!?"

 

She readjusted, looking to get comfortable again. "Well, I was trying to sleep, but then you started playing with my boobs and yelling at me."

 

Realization hit him. 

 

He shot out of bed furiously, blushing and cringing. "WHY THE HELL ARE YOU SLEEPING IN MY BED WITH ME, AND WHY ARE YOU NAKED?!?" 

 

"Because there's no other bed here, and I'm not naked—I'm in my underwear." 

 

He turned around, ready to leave. 

 

Marilyn got up and crawled towards Oliver. "No, wait—don't go! It's cold!" She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, trying to absorb the heat from his body. "Don't be weird, Oliver," she said, burrowing her face into his neck for warmth. "I think of you as a sidekick and a brother, nothing more." 

 

"It doesn't matter, Marilyn—I'm a guy and you're a girl, and WAIT YOU’RE STILL NAKED!!!" He screamed, running away to the other side of the room. "Why? Why are you always naked?!"

 

She flopped on the bed, annoyed. "How many times do I have to tell you, Oliver—my clothes are super heavy!!" 

 

He grabbed his hair, flustered and annoyed. "Marilyn!" He yelled, walking over to her clothes on the floor. He bent down and picked up her sweater effortlessly. "See this? It's not heavy." He let it hang off of one finger. "It's clothes." 

 

"Okay then Oliver: go drop it over the balcony," she said. 

 

"You want me to drop your sweater over my apartment balcony? Onto the street?" 

 

"Yes. See what happens." 

 

Drop it over the balcony… ugh, why does everything always have to be… he mumbled to himself, taking the sweater to the door. He opened it, stepped into the early morning daylight, and held it above the sidewalk before letting go. 

 

He watched in disbelief as it plummeted to the ground, landing in the sidewalk like a bowling ball with a deafening crash. It cracked the cement and left a visible hole. 

 

"What the hell?" He muttered, eyes wide. 

 

"See? I've been telling the truth, Oliver. My clothes probably weigh about as much as a truck. They need to be heavy so I can always keep my strength up. It's a demon thing, so you'll need to too. But we'll probably have to get you a heavier set… maybe some that weigh as much as a house." 

 

"A house?! Won't that kill me??" 

 

"Hm.. nah, you're a strong boy: you can handle it. Pain is nothing to you, now that you're a half demon. I bet you already feel better from yesterday's fight."

 

He felt around his body. He was fine. 

 

"Hey… you're right. I feel—" 

 

He was stopped by a sudden searing pain on his arm. 

 

"GAH!" He screamed, clutching his left arm to his chest. "Shit, what the hell's happening??" Intense burning pierced into his skin, from his wrist to his elbow. He looked and saw bright orange scratches, looking like they were made out of fire, forming in his skin. 

 

"What's wrong, Oliver?" Marilyn asked.

 

A random series of lines scratched into his skin were still there once the pain started to cease. 

 

"What the hell was that?!?" 

 

She got up, blanket wrapped around her (for his sake), and looked at his arm. 

 

"Oh! Sara signed you up for the trials already. She said you get to be there on Day One." 

 

"When's that?" He asked, looking at the cuts. 

 

She looked. 

 

"MONDAY?!?" She stared at the message in shock. 

 

"Monday isn't too bad," Oliver said. 

 

"When I was signed up in the rank trials. I had to wait a year before I could fight." She plopped onto the bed, sighing. "You're so lucky, Oliver. Sara signing you up probably helped you big time in the waitlist." 

 

Oliver counted. It was Tuesday, which meant he had less than a week to prepare. Marilyn noticed it too. 

 

"Shit, we can't waste any time, Oliver. If you're gonna be prepared for Monday, we gotta get you as ready as possible, which means we need to start training NOW."  

 

They got dressed and hurried to the Underworld so Marilyn could get Oliver ready for his training. 

 

He waited outside as Marilyn came out of a shop with a pile of clothes in her hand, smiling. They looked exactly like Oliver's normal clothes, except when he tried them on, it felt like his body was 90 feet underwater. 

 

"Shit, Marilyn—I can barely walk in these!" 

 

"You'll get used to it, soon. But your night runs are definitely going to suck at first," she said. 

 

"Night runs?" 

 

"Yup. Every night for the next week, you're gonna run a mile in those clothes." 

 

"WHAT??!?" 

 

"You've got sleeping muscles inside you, Oliver, and this is gonna wake them up! Trust me, Oliver—I know what I'm doing!!!" 

 

He had no choice but to agree. 

 

The following 6 days were blood, sweat, and tears for Oliver. He worked harder than he had ever worked in his life, and Marilyn pushed him to the breaking point every single day. Each night he would go to sleep exhausted beyond belief, but would wake up rejuvenated and ready to go again. 

 

Next thing they knew, after hours and hours of training, it was Monday, and they were getting ready for the Rank Trials.

 

"Come on, Oliver—we have to go!" 

 

"My clothes are all shredded!" He called back. 

 

"You don't have to wear your heavy clothes for this! Come on, let's just go!!!" 

 

He came out dressed in his normal clothes. "C'mon, let's go!" Oliver said, excited. She smiled back happily as they both walked through the portal door. 

 

Once there, they were greeted by a woman in red. 

 

"Hello!" Marilyn said. 

 

The woman smiled and bent down slightly. "Hello there, miss. How can I help you today?" 

 

"Can you open a portal to the Demon Ranking Arena, please?" She asked. 

 

"Of course. That'll be $50 cash." 

 

Marilyn turned to Oliver. "You brought your wallet, right?" 

 

Oliver reached in his pocket and took $50 from his wallet. "Here," he said, handing it over. 

 

"Thanks Oliver!" She said, turning back to the woman. "Here you go!" 

 

The woman took the money and opened the portal, bidding them inside. "You two have a lovely day," she said as it closed behind them. 

 

Oliver looked up, amazed. 

 

The building was massive, closer to a colosseum instead of a stadium. Demons were everywhere, going in and out of the building and clustering around the sides. 

 

"This place is massive." 

 

"Yep! Now c'mon, let's go inside," Marilyn said, pulling his sleeve. 

 

As they got to the entrance, they were met by a guard. He loomed over them, clipboard in hand. "Hi," Marilyn said, "we're here for the Rank Trials." 

 

"To spectate or fight?" He asked.

 

"He's going to be fighting." She pointed to Oliver. 

 

He gave Oliver a once-over. "What's your name, kid." 

 

"Oliver Rojas," he said. 

 

The guard checked his clipboard, flipping a page. "Okay, you're on the list—right this way." 

 

He led them inside the building through hallways and corridors that were bustling with people. Once they reached the arena itself, they saw the thousands of demons scattered about, finding their seats. 

 

"Big crowd," Oliver said, looking around nervously. 

 

"Yeah, lots of people attend the Rank Trials, either to just see the fights, or see they're favorite ranks. Even if they aren't participating, all the ranks come here. Even Rank One is here." 

 

"Wait, seriously?" Oliver asked.

 

"Yeah. He's here every year, but he's always hiding." She pointed upward. "You see that mirror?"

 

Oliver looked up. The entire ceiling of the Arena was a giant mirror, wall to wall. He thought it was a kinda strange design. 

 

"Yeah, what about it?" 

 

"That's where the Rank One hides," she said confidently. 

 

He looked up. "Have you ever seen him up there?" 

 

"Erm, uh, no… but I know he's there!" 

 

He rolled his eyes. "It's just a mirror, Marilyn." 

 

"No, it's not! I know the Rank One is up there with The Ruler right now!" 

 

"Oh yeah, sure. How do you know?" 

 

She stammered for a second. "Well, uh… why else would the ceiling be a mirror? Huh? What's the point of putting a mirror up there?" 

 

"I don't know, it's probably just the design of the Arena. You're looking way too deep into this." 

 

"That makes no sense, Oliver. What, they just put a mirror up there because it looks cute? C'mon, Oliver—if you're gonna try to prove me wrong, at least come up with a better argument than that!" 

 

"What do you want me to say?!" He yelled

 

"That I'm right."

 

"I'm not saying that." 

 

"Why not?"

 

"Because you're not!"

 

"Yes I am, now say it!!!!" 

 

Meanwhile, two men stood over the excitement below. One was a demon, the other a human. The demon, pale as moonlight and dressed in a suit, peered eagerly into the glass below him. His friend was distracted by something else. 

 

The demon smacked the humans arm. 

 

"That's him, right Ray? That's gotta be him," he said with a smile, his red eyes gleaming with excitement. 

 

Ray looked down at the thousands of people through the glass. "Who's who?" 

 

The demon gave him a look. "Him!!" He pointed. "That one right there, with the striped sleeves."

 

"Striped sleeves? Matthew, there's like a hundred people here with striped sleeves." 

 

Matthew pursed his mouth. "Son of a—look, Ray… right there." Ray followed his finger until he saw it. 

 

"Ohhhh, it's Oliver!"

 

"Yeah, man, I told you!"

 

The Ruler and the Rank One peered down excitedly, recalling fond memories. 

 

"Man, it's been years. He really grew up," Ray said. 

 

"Yeah, and look—he's with Marilyn!" The Ruler said. 

 

"Marilyn?" 

 

He laughed. "The Rank 47. She's kinda like a daughter to me. I've raised her up from 4 years old."

 

"Oh really?" Ray asked. 

 

"Yeah…" The Ruler said with a smile. 

 

They both trailed off into thought, until the Rank One smacked The Ruler's arm. "Shit, he's looking at us!" 

 

"No, it's cool," The Ruler said. "It's a mirror on the other side. Besides, no one knows we're up here."

 

"Oliver?" Marilyn asked from the Arena floor, "What are you staring at?" 

 

"Huh? Oh, I'm just fixing my hair," he said, intently trying to fix those standing strands of hair for the umpteenth time. Eventually, he lost interest and looked away. 

 

"See?" The Ruler said. "Didn't even know." 

 

The Hornless Demon nodded. "Hey, what's Oliver doing here, anyways?"

 

Matthew gave him a sly grin. "He's competing in the Rank Trials." 

 

"Oh shit," he said, impressed. 

 

"Yeah, I know. Sara signed him up. She recommended him, saying that he "fixed a public disturbance" and "ended a streak of casualties" or something. Not really sure. But I'm still kinda pissed at him for destroying Xbot." 

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"Wait, he did what? He destroyed Xbot? As in, the demon-killing machine, made of a weakening, extremely sharp metal, that makes you weaker every time you touch the damn thing? That Xbot?!" 

 

"Yeah, he did," he said, annoyed but still slightly impressed. "He's got an immunity to it, like Marilyn. There's a pretty decent amount of demons who have it. And you have it, so it shouldn't be that much of a surprise."

 

"Yeah, but I'm a human, not a demon." 

 

"Oliver's originally human. Marilyn infused him with demon blood, though, so now he's a half demon." 

 

"Damn, the kid keeps getting cooler." 

 

They laughed. 

 

"Well, let's just hope his fighting lives up to the reputation," The Ruler said, expectantly looking down into the arena. 

 

"Oliver Rojas?" A voice boomed, jarring Oliver into attentiveness. 

 

"Here!" He said, raising his hand. 

 

The man walked over to meet Oliver. He recognized him as one of the judges. "Okay, Oliver—are you ready for your Qualification match?" 

 

He felt jitters all over, but nodded. "Yeah, I'm ready. Who am I fighting?" 

 

The judge dropped his clipboard. "Me." 

 

Wide-eyed, he slowly turned to Marilyn. "I HAVE TO FIGHT A JUDGE?!" he yell-whispered. 

 

"Yup! Good luck!" She smiled. 

 

Oh shit… He thought. 

 

"Well then who's gonna judge me?!" He cried.

 

"The judge—duh!" 

 

"Oh shit…" 

 

The judge led him into the center of the arena. Oliver could hear a loudspeaker depicting the fight that was about to happen, but couldn't hear a word. He was trying to settle his nerves and focus. 

 

The crowd started to pay attention once they reached the fighting zone. 

 

"Okay, here are the rules:" the judge said. "No weapons, and no killing anyone. Anything else is allowed… Oh, and one more thing—the sooner you beat me, if you can beat me, the higher rank you'll earn." 

 

Oh shit… okay, Oliver—you can do this. You just gotta take him down as fast as possible. 

 

"Okay," he said, "sounds simple enough…" 

 

The judge smirked. Look at this dumbass kid. I can't wait to crush his tiny little dreams, and show him how a real demon fights. 

 

Oliver tensed himself. He was ready for this… he had trained nonstop for days to prepare himself. He just needed to concentrate. 

 

"Ready… BEGIN!!!" 

 

As soon as the judge yelled it, Oliver blinked and he was gone. The crowd fell into a hush. 

 

What? Oliver thought. How could— 

 

But the judge suddenly appeared right next to him. 

 

Marilyn could see what was happening from the sidelines. He was moving so quickly, he'd disappear for a few seconds as he moved. 

 

"Goodnight, kid," he said with a smirk, cocking his fist back. His arm moved so quickly, no one saw it move until Oliver caught the punch. 

 

"What the hell??" He cried. 

 

"What, you surprised?" Oliver asked, smiling. It infuriated him. Oliver twisted his fist and landed a punch to the jaw, sending the judge sailing to the floor. 

 

Shit… that kid was… stronger than I expected,  he thought as he faded out of consciousness. 

 

The crowd went wild as the official declared the K.O., making Oliver the winner in 21.6 seconds

 

"Damn," Rank One said, "that was fast." 

 

"Yeah, Oliver already knocked out the judge." The Ruler stared down, watching Oliver intently. 

 

Oliver was led to the sidelines so the other fights could take place, and Marilyn met him excitedly. "Damn, Oliver—you were so fast!! I guess all my training paid off, huh?" 

 

Oliver laughed, exhilaration still buzzing through his body from the victory. 

 

"You know, you're probably gonna get a really good rank for winning so quickly!" 

 

"You think so?" He asked. 

 

"Oh, for sure." She handed Oliver some water while they waited for the next match to start. 

 

"T-Bone?" A voice boomed, "Is T-Bone here?" 

 

"Yeah, here—I'm right here!" The apparent T-Bone said. 

 

"Come on, your match is starting." 

 

Marilyn looked up and gasped. "OH MY GOD, A DOGGY!!!" 

 

"Huh?" 

 

Marilyn sprang up, trying to launch towards T-Bone, but Oliver caught her. "I WANNA PET THE DOGGY!!!!" 

 

"Marilyn!" Oliver hissed. He looked over at T-Bone, struggling to hold Marilyn back. "Uh, sorry about that." 

 

A very confused T-Bone smiled politely. "No problem, man. Good match, by the way." 

 

"Thanks," Oliver said as T-Bone walked into the fight zone. What a strange looking demon… He thought. He had the body of a normal demon, but the head of a dog, fur and all. He was brown with black accents, and had a pointed snout. 

 

Besides the dog head, the most striking feature to Oliver was his attire: he wore a full 3-piece suit, complete with a top hat, cane, and monocle. And he walked into the arena to fight in it. 

 

"Rank 2, your match is beginning. Rank 2, make your way to the arena!" The voice boomed. 

 

"WAIT, WHAT?!? How did a dog earn such a high rank?!?" Marilyn screamed. 

 

The rank two appeared from the sidelines as he made his way to the fighting area. He was tall and grizzly, with a permanent scowl on his face. They met in the center as the rules were announced. Then they backed away into their fighting positions. 

 

"May the best man win," T-Bone said.

 

"The only man will win," he said coldly. 

 

"Ready… BEGIN!" 

 

The Rank 2 lunged towards T-Bone. "Red Dragon Fist!!!" He cried, his fist turning into a sphere of fire as it soared. 

 

T-Bone was collected and quick to react tho, he raised his hand: "Soft Paws!" He called. 

 

As the fist sailed right into T-Bones outstretched and, the flame was immediately extinguished, and the impact was nulled. 

 

"WHAAATT?!?" He screamed. The crowd erupted into cheers, rooting for the underdog. 

 

Like a viper, T-Bone released his fist and threw his own strike. "Soft Paws!" He called again, striking the Rank 2 in the head. 

 

The impact looked nonexistent, like a cat thumping a forehead with its paw. The Rank 2 just stood, motionless and expressionless. T-Bone turned, and started to walk away to everyone's confusion. 

 

The announcer grabbed the microphone. "Sir, if you walk away from the fight without finishing it, that will result in an instant disqualification, and you will lose." 

 

"The fight's already finished. I knocked him out already, he just hasn't fallen yet." 

 

Everyone was on the edge of their seats, watching. 

 

The Rank 2 stayed dazed and motionless, swaying gently before falling to the ground with a THUD. The arena exploded into cheers—even Oliver was amazed. 

 

"Ladies and gentlemen, the new Rank 2: T-Bone!!!" The announcer called. T-Bone bowed politely as the demons cheered. 

 

"There is no way in hell someone can beat a single-digit Rank THAT quickly and THAT effortlessly… there's just no way," Marilyn pouted, shocked like the rest of the building. 

 

Some other fights take place, mostly uneventful obesity that didn't catch Marilyn’s attention much (though Oliver watched them intently). 

 

About an hour later, the announcer began to call. 

 

"Oliver Rojas, your Ranking Match is about to begin. Please head to the fighting area." 

 

Marilyn wished him good luck, and off he went to the center. He walked to the center. The announcer called: "Oliver Rojas, for beating the judge in 21.6 seconds, will be fighting… the Rank 4!" 

 

"WHAT?!?" Oliver and Marilyn screamed. Neither of them could believe it. 

 

"OLIVER," she screamed, "YOU BETTER LOSE, BECAUSE I'M SUPPOSED TO BE THE HERO AND YOU'RE THE SIDEKICK, SO YOU CAN'T BE A HIGHER RANK THAN ME!" 

 

Oliver smiled. "Another reason for me to win!" He yelled back. 

 

She blew her top. "NO OLIVER, I MEAN IT YOU BETTER LOSE!!!" 

 

The Rank 4 walked over. "So, who's the challenger?" He asked. 

 

"Him," the official pointed to Oliver. 

 

"This kid?!" He burst into laughter. "That's a joke, right? I'll beat this kid up in three seconds—bring me someone better." 

 

"He qualifies to fight you, and you're the only opponent that matches his challenge level." 

 

"Really?" He looked over Oliver, reevaluating him. "Alright, I'll fight him." He turned to Oliver. "Hey there punk, you might think you're some big shot right now, but once I kick your sorry little ass, you'll feel like the stupidest person here." 

 

"Okay," Oliver said. His mind was already running. If I can win this fight… I'll be the Rank 4—Rank 4. All I have to do… is win. 

 

"Ready… BEGIN!!!" 

 

They both got into fighting positions, but the Rank 4 relaxed, laughing. "I'll tell you what, kid," he said, "you can throw the first punch. Go on and hit me—give me your best shot, pipsqueak." 

 

"Bad choice, buddy," Oliver said. He charged his arm and slammed right for the Rank 4's gut. 

 

He barreled forward in pain, clenching his abdomen. Shit… the kid hits hard… I can't go easy on him. 

 

"I could've ended the fight right there, you know!" Oliver called. 

 

"K-kid, stop playing! You ain't doing shit with a weak ass punch like that. Monkey Fist!" As he yelled, he threw a punch at Oliver, which Oliver caught. But as he did, his hand felt like it had been dipped in boiling water. 

 

"Shit!" He cried, pulling his hand back. 

 

"Monkey Uppercut!" He uppercut Oliver brutally, sending him soaring into the air. He jumped up to meet him, yelling "Monkey Downwards Kick!" He kicked Oliver down, crashing him to the floor as he landed on top of his back. 

 

Oliver laid there, motionless. "Sorry kid," he muttered, "but I had to do it. I'm not losing my rank today." He turned to the official: "He's out!" 

 

"YES!!!!!!! Marilyn yelled, cheering in a mostly quiet crowd.

 

The official was running over to check as Oliver yelled out, "WAIT, I'M STILL AWAKE!" 

 

"NOOO, SHUT UP AND STAY DOWN, OLIVER!!! I HAVE TO BE THE—"

 

"MARILYN!!!" He yelled. 

 

"You should listen to your girlfriend, bro… she's just looking out for you," the Rank 4 patronized. 

 

"YEAH, OLIVER, JUST LIS—wait, I'M NOT HIS GIRLFRIEND!!!!" 

 

Oliver was staggering together up. He could still fight… he wasn't out yet. This guy was tough—very tough—but he vividly remembered Xbot, and compared to that… this guy was a cake walk. 

 

"MONKEY PUN—" 

 

Oliver slammed his fist into the Rank 4's face before he could finish. Stunned, he took half a second to regain his balance. But half a second was all Oliver needed. 

 

He charged his arm and struck the Rank 4 in the face with the same amount of energy he used with Xbot. 

 

The Rank 4 stumbled. "What the… hell…?" He collapsed, sending the Arena into silence. The official ran over, and cleared it. 

 

"Ladies and gentlemen, you're new Rank 4: Oliver Rojas!!!!" 

 

The place burst into cheers—they loved underdogs, and they seemed to take a special liking to Oliver. He was surrounded by cheering demons, lost in the thrill of the moment. 

 

"NOOOOO!!!!!" Marilyn was losing it on the sides. "HE CHEATED!!! IT'S NOT FAIR!!!! I WAS SUPPOSED TO BE THE LEADER, AND HE WAS JUST THE SIDEKICK!!!! THERE NEEDS TO BE A REMA—" 

 

"Marilyn!" He yelled after he ran up to her. "Shush! If you stop yelling, I'll buy you a cheeseburger when we get home." 

 

She dropped her angry expression and held a hand up to her head. "Aye aye, captain!" She saluted. 

 

A judge walked over to the two of them. "Oliver?" He asked. 

 

Oliver turned around. 

 

"Hold out your hand." 

 

He did, and he watched as the judge took a strange pen with a felt tip, and wrote on his wrist . It burned like cold water, and made his whole body tingle. Once he was finished, he had the number 4 written on his wrist . 

 

"This will help you," the judge said, "it will allow you to get into places you couldn't before." 

 

"Huh?" 

 

Marilyn pulled his sleeve. "Come on, Oliver—let's go get that cheeseburger!!!!"

 

The Ruler and the Hornless Demon watched from above, shocked. 

 

The Ruler was thrilled. "Oliver beat the Rank 4!!! He's the new Rank 4!" 

 

"I know," he replied. "What he did today was seriously impressive. I wouldn't be surprised if He surpasses me someday as Rank One." 

 

The Ruler side-eyed him. "Is that even possible?" 

 

He laughed. "Maybe not," he said. "But it doesn't matter. Possible or not, he'll find a way to make it happen." He looked down below, watching Marilyn pull him towards the exit. He smiled. "That's just who Oliver is." 

 

End of chapter 9

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