"For the love of idiots," I sighed.
"You think you can steal the Manotaur’s girl?" he demanded.
"Manotaur?" I said.
"Yeah!" he barked, hammering a fist against his chest with a noise like a drumbeat. "I was once just a normal man. But then, while working at the slaughterhouse, I was bitten by a bull who imparted onto me his spiritual strength! Now, I am the Manotaur, and I won’t let you steal my girl!"
"What?" I couldn’t help but say, basically a bovine version of Spiderman except instead of spider sense, he got stupidity.
Well, I’d heard worse origin stories.
I looked past him and spotted Arman returning to the room.
No wonder who had told the meathead about Psyren leaving, or when.
I had a nasty feeling about this, particularly when the diamond-skinned pit boss approached us.
"Is there some trouble?" Arman said.
"Boss!" Manotaur cried, turning towards Arman. "You can’t let Psyren quit!"
Arman sighed with exaggerated sorrow, opening his hands. "Afraid it’s not up to me, my boy. Dear Psyren’s contract was up. And she decided not to renew. It’s out of my hands."
"But into mine!" Manotaur bellowed, turning toward me and jabbing a finger into my chest. "You and me. In the ring! Whoever comes out on top gets her!"
"What? No," I said. "That’s insane. I’m not going to fight you for her. She can make her own decisions."
"And I want to be with you," Psyren said, pressing herself closer to me with a mischievous smile. Oh, she was definitely a problem girl.
There was no chance she didn’t understand what this was doing to Manotaur.
The guy’s muzzle was practically turning crimson with fury.
"Fight me!" he shouted, reaching for me.
Yeah, no.
There were several metal buckles on his shoes, and as he lunged to grab me, I gave them a magnetic shove.
Manotaur’s eyes went wide as his feet suddenly shot out from beneath him. He crashed onto the floor, his face smacking the ground hard.
Oooh.
That had to hurt.
And judging by the way Manotaur bellowed like the bull he looked like, throwing himself backward and clutching his nose while blood streamed down his face, I’d been right.
"You... cheap shot!" he roared, pulling an arm back to take a swing at me.
He didn’t get the chance.
Before I could even find something metallic to throw at him, a beam of freezing blue energy struck him squarely in the chest, covering him in a shell of ice.
"Good job, Glacia," I said, glancing over at her.
Glacia had straightened in her seat, blue light surrounding her like a halo. One arm was extended, icy energy swirling around her palm.
"Sir does not have time to deal with trash," she said as cold as an Alaskan night. "I suggest you remove yourself from his presence. Now."
Manotaur clenched his chattering teeth, the ice fracturing around him as he started trying to force his way free.
Well, good luck with that.
"He can be a real handful," Psyren told me, cuddling against my chest.
I glanced down at her.
She really wasn’t helping.
"Why didn’t you use your powers to make him go away?"
"Remember?" she said with a teasing sweetness I suspected would haunt me later. "I promised you not to use my powers to manipulate minds unless I had no choice or training. And I want to be a good girl for my new boss. It wouldn’t look very good if I broke my promise just like that."
I narrowed my eyes, but I had to admire the con.
She might actually make a halfway decent villain.
"I... I... w-won’t g-give her u-up!" Manotaur chattered through the cold.
Right.
He was going to be a problem.
I sighed.
Well, if this got things resolved faster, then fine.
"Alright," I said, sliding Psyren from my lap and getting to my feet. "Fine. I’ll fight you in the arena. But you have to swear that if you lose, you’ll leave Psyren alone. Got it?"
"A splendid idea," the Armenian said, clapping his hands and flashing us a grin filled with 100 carat teeth. "I think such a bout would resolve this matter quite amicably. Gentlemen, shall we?"
So that was his angle.
Humiliate the bull while getting a show out of it too.
How very Arman.
I wondered if he’d actually arranged for me to get beaten in the arena.
Arman knew how capable I was, even if he didn’t advertise it.
Hell, he’d tried to get me to headline for him before I went out on my own.
But if I won, he’d probably make damn sure Manotaur kept his distance from me afterward.
Arman was a blackhearted monster, but he honored his word.
You didn’t survive long in the underground without people knowing they could rely on that.
A threat or promise didn’t mean shit if nobody believed you’d actually follow through.
As much as I hated admitting it, dealing with the bull now would probably save me plenty of time and trouble later.
"Fine," I said. "Let’s get this over with."
"Most gratifying," Arman said, bringing a fist down against the ice.
With a thunderous crash, it shattered, and Manotaur roared as he tore himself free from the fragments.
"I’ll—"
"Save it for the match," Arman said amicably, one enormous hand of precious stone closing around Manotaur’s shoulder and squeezing. "And once you beat our guest, I’m sure Psyren will see what a true man is, hm?"
Manotaur snorted, but whether it was Arman’s grip or the idea finally managing to penetrate his thick skull, he settled down, contenting himself with glaring at me through red-rimmed eyes.
"Sure," he said, grinning. "Sounds good."
I sighed once more.
Idiots were going to be idiots, I supposed.