Torsten took the Cube. It was cold and geometric, its center glowing a malevolent blue, the edges a void-like black. The stark image of a crocodile was etched into its surface.
Torsten: "How do I take this, scum?"
Midas's grin was a slash of pure avarice. "Ooh, 'scum.' I like it. Crush it."
Torsten placed the Cube between his massive palms. With a final, weary breath, he squeezed. A shatter of crystalline sound was drowned by a wave of blue light that erupted, engulfing him. His eyes flashed blue, then white as the power flooded his cells.
A moment of silence. The light faded.
Torsten: "Okay. It's done."
Midas handed him a sleek, dangerous-looking injector. "White V5."
Torsten: "This stuff... it's not good."
Midas: "This is the final version. Black market gold. V5 is much cleaner than V3 and V4. The side effects are... more manageable."
Without another word, the two of them turned and walked towards the roaring mouth of the arena
Midas strode into the plush office, facing the other shareholders and the man known simply as "Titan" the arena's reigning champion and a living legend.
The Boss, a fit man in his fifties with a sharp beard and short black hair, sat at the head of the table.
Midas: "Gentlemen, I have a proposition. I've found a challenger. Someone who can dethrone you, Boss. A new champion. Ever since you took the crown, we've only had three."
The other shareholders chuckled, but The Jackal didn't even smile.
The Jackal: "A new challenger? Why should I bend the rules for a newcomer? Everyone should earn it. Get to at least the top two if you want to fight me. Let the crowd enjoy the show."
Midas: "Yes, sir. But he's a rising star. This kid... he'll make us a lot of money, real soon."
The Titan eyes narrowed. "How many times must I tell you, Midas? This is not about the money. It's about the people. We are trying to change their lives, not make money from them." His gaze drifted to a photograph of his young daughter on his desk.
Midas: "Yes, Boss." (Inner thought: This sentimental old fool should step down. Just biding my time until I can buy out all these shareholders.)
The Jackal leaned forward, his voice low and serious. "Fine, Midas. A golden break. But you're putting 500k on the line. Because this... this is big."
A sliver of a smile touched Midas's lips. "Thank you, Boss."
They prepped for the next match. Torsten entered the arena, a 6-foot giant for his age. At only 20 years old bit young, but there was an exemption he was a mountain of raw potential.
MIDAS: "The rookie is back! And he has a name now... CROC! And tonight, he challenges our champion, the one, the only... TITAN!"
The crowd roared.
MIDAS: "And we have three sacred rules! One: No killing! Two: No outside help an honest one-on-one! Three: No steroids or power-up stuff! Now... FIGHT!"
Titan stepped into the light. He calmly took off his fur coat and sunglasses, placing them neatly on the ground. He looked at the hulking boy before him.
TITAN: "Hi, kid. You look underage. Not your body or your face... it's the way you act. I won't question it. But be careful. You're still young."
TORSTEN: "An old guy like you? What do you know?!"
Torsten dashed forward, throwing a wild punch. Titan dodged with an almost lazy ease and countered with a sharp jab to his ribs.
TITAN: "Too slow, kid."
A swift kick sent Torsten stumbling back.
TITAN: "Block, kid! And dodge!"
TORSTEN: "What? No"
Before he could finish, Titan typed a command in the air. Three drones detached from his back, swarming Torsten and zapping him with violent shock bolts.
ZZZ-ZAP!
The electricity coursed through him. Enraged, Torsten's body swelled, his skin thickening into scales. He unleashed a furious barrage of blows in his man-beast form. Titan allowed a few to land, grunting as he was knocked back for the first time.
Second round? Titan thought. Fine. He summoned a crackling lightning-bolt staff from his wrist device. He parried Torsten's enraged blows, using the monster's own momentum to toss him across the arena. Croc smashed through the wall with a thunderous crash.
TITAN: "Kid, you've got a lot to learn. Like... keep calm. Don't rage."
Struggling to his feet, Torsten's eyes fell on the V5 injector. He didn't want to. But Midas's threat... his sister's safety... flashed in his mind. With a roar of despair, he jammed it into his neck.
His scales sharpened into blades. His muscles ballooned, and his size skyrocketed from 8 feet to a monstrous 10.
TITAN: "Come on, boy... why? What did Midas promise you?"
As the behemoth charged, Titan activated a small, magnetic device. He dashed inside Torsten's guard, parried one colossal blow, and slapped the device onto his chest. A massive electrical surge erupted, overloading Torsten's enhanced nervous system. The giant convulsed and crashed to the ground, unconscious.
Midas stared, stunned, as his desk rattled from the impact.
The referee's voice echoed. "TITAN... WINS!"
The medics rushed in, a five-star team led by the renowned Doc Brown. They carefully loaded Torsten onto a stretcher.
In the infirmary, Doc Brown shone a light in his eyes. "Hi, kid. You lost. You're not too beat up, all things considered. But listen to me: stop doing the V5. Your body can't handle that strain forever. You'll be good if you quit now."
Torsten grunted, the fog of the electrical shock and the drug's crash still clouding his mind. "What... what happened?"
"You got beat by the Boss," Doc Brown said, not unkindly. "And he likes a word. Outside."
As Torsten shuffled out, aching and humiliated, he was met not by a vengeful champion, but by Atlas, who was waiting for him. Which leads directly into your brilliant curry shop scene...
TORSTEN: "I... I don't got much money for the treatment."
MEDIC: "Don't worry about it. If the fight's in the ring, it's on the house."
Nodding his thanks, Torsten walked out of the medical bay, his body still aching—and nearly bumped into Atlas, who was leaning against the wall.
ATLAS: "You're up. That shock got you good, huh?"
TORSTEN: "You just surprised me. You're fast."
ATLAS: "And you're strong for your age. Walk with me, boy."
They walked in silence for a moment before Atlas suddenly reached out and slapped the back of Torsten's head. It wasn't hard, but it was paternal.
ATLAS: "So what were you thinking, taking White V5? That stuff is bad for you. You're still a teen. Don't do drugs and steroids; it'll ruin you." He stopped walking and looked Torsten dead in the eye. "Now tell me. Was it Midas?"
TORSTEN: "I don't need to tell you anything. You're not my dad. We just met."
ATLAS: "Oh, here. My favorite spot." He gestured to a small, hole-in-the-wall curry shop. "I'll be having two bowls of the chicken curry, please." He paid before Torsten could object. They sat. "So, let me guess. He paid you a lot? No... that's not it." Atlas studied the stony silence on the young man's face. "What is it, then?"
Torsten said nothing.
ATLAS: "Silent type, huh?" He turned and whispered to the chef, "Extra third bowl for this one."
The food came. They started eating. Torsten, taking a huge bite, immediately started huffing, his face turning red.
ATLAS: "Is that hot? Can't stick with the men, right?" A deep, rumbling laugh escaped him. "Ohoho! So, spill it. Here, milk first. Then spill it."
Torsten gulped the milk, catching his breath. The combination of the spice, the exhaustion, and the unexpected kindness broke his defenses.
TORSTEN: "Fine. It's my sister. We're broke. That's why I entered. But Midas... he gave me an offer. I refused. Then he threatened her."
Atlas's jovial expression vanished, replaced by a grim understanding. He slid a glass of milk across the table.
ATLAS: "Midas... I knew he was scum, but this far? I'll have him fired soon. I've given him too many chances. But... I need one more thing. A test."
ATLAS: "Here. The real curry. Eat this, boy. No tricks this time. Enjoy." He watched as Torsten took a hesitant, then grateful bite. The tension in the young man's shoulders began to ease. "Tell me about your sister. Younger, right?" A soft, knowing look crossed Atlas's face. "I might tell you about my daughter."
MEANWHILE...
In a shadowy, back-alley bar, Midas slammed his glass down. "Come on now! I lost 500k! There goes a third of my plan!" He was meeting with two men in impeccably tailored suits.
MAN IN SUIT 1: "Midas. What brings a scum-sucker like you here? You only believe in money. You'd sell your own dog if the price was right."
MIDAS: "Ooh, and you two are just as bad as me. I can prove it." He leaned in, his voice a venomous whisper. "I want your vote on the board. And ten percent of your stocks. Each."
MAN IN SUIT 2: "That's far too much. And why should we be listening?"
MIDAS: "Oh, why? Big question. You two are corporate lackeys, drowning in debt neither of you will admit to. I, however, could have two million credits lying around. Divided, that's one million each. A life raft."
A heavy silence hung in the air.
MAN IN SUIT 1: "...Fine. I'm in. But I never met you here tonight." He stood to leave.
MAN IN SUIT 2: (Sighing in defeat) "I... I need the money."
MIDAS: "Very nice. And you," he said, pointing a finger at the second man, "need money? The last I checked, you're over five million in the hole to the wrong people. Consider this a down payment on your survival."
Midas walked away from the suited men, melting into the darkness. His commlink buzzed. It was Atlas. He took a breath and answered, his voice shifting to one of false contrition.
CUT TO ATLAS.
ATLAS: "Midas. You lost our bet. You don't need to pay. Did you learn anything? A creed never pays."
MIDAS: (Voice dripping with false humility) "Yes, Boss. I learned."
ATLAS: "I hope so, Midas. We need to speak. The next meeting. Tomorrow." He ended the call.
Atlas turned back to Torsten. "So, where do you live?"
TORSTEN: "Close by."
ATLAS: "Nice. I can meet your sister. You got that extra curry for her?"
TORSTEN: "Yes... I do. Thanks again."
ATLAS: "As I was saying... my daughter is very smart for her age."
They walked to Torsten's apartment, stopping before a shabby, run-down building that stank of neglect and poverty.
Torsten opened the door. "Hi, sis. I got food."
VEYRA: "Hello, Torsten. How was your wait, you got beat up again! Who did this?"
ATLAS: (Stepping into the light) "That was me. Sorry, young lady. Had to do it. Your brother is one strong guy. But I bought food. Does that make up for it?"
VEYRA: (Eyes narrowed) "Okay. Apology accepted. But I don't trust you."
TORSTEN: "Be nice, Vey. He's Atlas."
ATLAS: "Oh, I see. Well, keep taking care of your brother, young lady. It was good to meet you both. Bye."
He left. The night sky was a deep, dark canvas, the stars shining with a cold, distant brightness.
SUNRISE - THE NEXT DAY
MIDAS: (In a shadowy garage) "Now, Dave. I pay you. You take the fall for it. Five million. It's done."
DAVE: (Nervously) "Fine. I'll do it."
IN THE BOARD MEETING
ATLAS: "Midas. Have you got anything to say?"
MIDAS: (Head bowed) "I'm sorry... for pushing a rookie who was not ready."
ATLAS: "And... what?"
MIDAS: "I... won't do it again."
ATLAS: "That's not the answer I'm looking for, Midas. If you hide this, I will have to do worse than fire you."
MIDAS: "What did I do?"
DAVE: (Standing up abruptly) "Boss! It was not him!"
The room fell silent.
ATLAS: (A suspicious look hardening his features) "What? Explain."
DAVE: "I... I framed Midas. I was the one who gave Torsten the black-market White V5."
The other stockholders gasped, shocked.
Atlas didn't look happy. The lie was too clean. "The 'how much' does not matter. You're fired. Effective right now."
DAVE: "As my apology... I leave my shares to Midas."
MIDAS: (A perfectly crafted mask of gratitude) "Thank you, Dave."
But beneath the table, hidden from view, was an evil grin of pure, unadulterated triumph.