The last song of the ancestors

The final match of the fourth round was to be between German Pestzart and Wanda Shani, a Swahili woman. The two faced each other. The Neo Axis member let out a loud laugh, muffled by the hideous mask he was wearing. Wanda raised an eyebrow and pointed her plump index finger at him.

"What are you laughing at? I think you're the only funny thing in this square meter."

"Fosfosfos, I thought you'd fight a human being, not a hippopotamus."

"You're pretty confident for someone wearing a mask."

"When I'm done with you, I'll show you what the superior race can do to the inferior."

"All right, then show me everything you've got, little man."

Wanda was a woman weighing over two hundred kilos. That fact gave her an advantage over her opponents. Although she had no mastery of martial arts, her brute strength and her fatty skin.

She smoothed her frizzy hair confidently. The unruly strands were pinned up in an intertwined leather tiara. Her skin was well exposed. The folds of fat were layered in different ways. Her dark top and shorts were soaked with sweat. Wanda wasn't at all intimidated by her enemy, she was a famous illegal fighter from the East African coast, she had faced more dangerous things.

Pestzart was dressed in the fashion of doctors during the Black Death. Instead of the long dark overcoat, he wore a suit with pointed shoulder pads and a short dark velvet pilgrimage. The long-brimmed hat and crow's beak mask with glass eyes brought him even closer to the morbid imagery of the Renaissance.

The German pulled several scalpels from his belt. As a career doctor-surgeon, and serial killer for pleasure. During the day, he worked in a highly complex operating room, while at night he became a nightmare emerging from the darkness of the Berlin night. He had disemboweled a hundred young women on the streets of Berlin without ever being caught. He knew life and death, he knew how to offer them and how to take them away from the victim.

He knew very well how difficult it was to cut through adipose tissue. He decided that he would slice her up little by little. He moved in on her, taking advantage of his speed to reach the woman's back. He threw two handfuls of blades at her.

"All that effort for that, little man? That was as annoying as a swarm of mosquitoes."

The scalpels hit Wanda's flabby skin and fell to the floor. Pestzart stepped back to avoid being grabbed by the woman's clawed hands. However, she managed to grab him by the peregrine. She held him in the air and threw him against the ceiling. The German went flying, hitting his back against the top of the ring. His bones cracked. He fell like a stone.

Before he hit the ground, he was slapped upside the head. Pestzart was thrown into the opposite wall. One of the glass eyes burst. The serial killer felt pain for the first time in his life. It revolted him.

How can someone as superior as me feel pain?

He, who was descended from the most dedicated members of the German National Socialist Party, a member of the aristocracy from birth, a graduate of his country's most renowned university, was now being beaten up by someone he thought was inferior. He stood up. He couldn't accept such humiliation.

"I can't go back to my country, look the leaders of Neo Axis in the face and say that I lost the fight to this savage."

"This savage here will break your ugly face!"

"Damn…"

He didn't finish his sentence. Wanda approached and tried to grab him. Pestzart ran away, but the woman caught him by the leg. She lifted him above her head, slammed him to the ground, lifted him again, smashed him once more, and repeated until blood spurted from her opponent's pores. Not satisfied, she threw him against the wall.

Pestzart fell as if dead. His body struggled, but he didn't seem to have the strength to react. Wanda raised her arms and was cheered by the crowd.

It was at this moment of distraction that the serial killer pulled a small pistol-shaped syringe from his belt. He stuck the needle into his neck. The combat drug eased the pain, sent adrenaline into his bloodstream and sent intelligent enzyme platelets to suture the bone fractures in his body.

He stood up, picked up a scalpel and threw it at Wanda to get her attention. She turned to her opponent, clenched her fists. She ran at him like a train. She grabbed him around the waist and lifted him up. She gave him a bear hug. Pestzart let out a scream. Wanda was amused.

"Scream more, little man, louder, that's it, sing to me, little bird."

"Oh yes, I'll sing you a sour song!"

Pestzart activated a device in his mask. Its beak opened, and a small barrel emerged, lengthened and fired. But instead of a projectile coming out, what hit the mercenary was sulphuric acid. The corrosive substance ran down her face, down her bust. Skin, fat, flesh and bones melted.

The pain made Wanda let go of the German. With her bare hands, in desperation, she smoothed her face. The acid burned her hands too, and her fingers fell to the floor. She paced back and forth, her screams echoing around the ring of the Grand Arena. Gradually, the acid reached her internal organs. She fell to the ground like a mountain collapsing.

The spectators booed the German. They called him a coward and said many other insults. Pestzart was enraged by the people's reaction. He saw the woman lying motionless on the ground, and cruelly stomped on her head. He kicked the inert body with all the contempt he felt for that part of humanity. Finally, his victory was declared. He was forcibly removed from the ring.

Akachi, Nyatui and Fadala watched in disgust. Akachi held the sticks with all his might. Nyatui put a hand on his shoulder.

"Control the emission of your Axé, or you'll attract unwanted attention."

"This guy's an animal."

"I know, but let's not stoop to his level. If we fight him, we'll show him the true meaning of inferiority."