Chapter 283: Something They Can Use [Bonus]
Jin’s right hand had gone purple around the knuckles overnight.
The wrist ached when he rotated it. He tried once while the medic was finding a fresh wrap, then stopped before she could tell him to.
"You hit harder than your technique can support," she said, taking his hand. "Keep doing that and you’ll hurt more than the other person."
"I wasn’t planning to make a habit of it."
"Good. Give this a few days."
"I leave tomorrow."
"You can rest a hand on a transport." She secured the wrap. "No punching things to see whether it still hurts."
Jin looked away from her. He had only been considering it.
Glitch had gotten off lighter. The tenderness under his left foreleg was already easing, with the plating intact. Lesser Regeneration was spending stored energy on the minor damage, and breakfast had required a second tray.
Jin watched him clean that one too, then collected the care sheet. At least one of them would be comfortable by departure.
A group beside the east stair went quiet when Jin approached. One boy had been gesturing with both hands, apparently halfway through an impression. He lowered them and became interested in somebody’s phone.
Outside the feed hall, an unfamiliar second-year moved aside and apologized, although Jin hadn’t asked him to move.
A small part of him enjoyed that. Yesterday, Hask had expected him to stand there and accept whatever he said. Nobody seemed eager to try the same thing this morning.
Still, being watched made him conscious of every movement. He almost tripped on the feed-hall step while trying to look as though he hadn’t noticed.
The delegates were less impressed. A fourth-year at the water station glanced at his wrapped hand, said, "Busy afternoon?" and returned to complaining about the loading schedule.
Jin found that reassuring.
Marris caught him before the morning session and led him into an empty office.
"I watched the recording," she said. "You kept commanding while Hask attacked you. When the referee stopped it, both of you stopped. Those are improvements."
Jin sat on the chair she indicated.
"But you stayed close to him longer than you needed to," she continued. "Against somebody with better training, that would have cost you."
"He called my parents fools."
"I heard him. I’m asking what happens when someone says it because they want you close."
Jin looked down at his hand. Hask’s attempts to hit him had been crude. Sabel could have put him on the floor while he was demanding his second answer.
"I’d have to keep my distance."
"Would you?"
He disliked how long it took him to answer.
"I don’t know. I wasn’t just swinging. I was still thinking."
"Yes," Marris said. "And you won. That can make it harder to notice which decisions were risky."
Jin remembered reaching too far and nearly stumbling when Hask shoved him. He had recovered before it mattered.
"I wouldn’t take back making him apologize."
"I’m not asking you to. I want you to recognize it if another opponent tries to choose your next move for you." She leaned against the desk. "You can be angry and still make them fight your bout."
Jin nodded. He could accept that much without pretending the insult hadn’t mattered.
Marris opened the door. "Three days until the League. Use today well."
The Hookclaw Lynx belonged to Emery Sun of Cassel Ridge. Jin had saved its recordings earlier in the week; he returned to them after the morning session while Glitch rested beside his chair.
The lynx struck down and across with a heavy forepaw, loading the near shoulder before twisting its chest into the blow. It was fast enough that Jin initially watched the claw instead of the recovery.
Then he noticed where it went afterward.
Left. Its own left, regardless of which side of the recording that happened to be.
𝑓𝘳𝘦𝑒𝑤𝑒𝘣𝘯ℴ𝘷𝘦𝓁.𝑐𝑜𝑚
He checked the next clip. A different approach, the same exit.
By the fourth example, he was looking for one that disproved it. The lynx moved freely in either direction during ordinary footwork. Following that heavy hook, though, it kept breaking left. In one recording, it even escaped toward a barrier and took a hit because there wasn’t enough room.
You had the whole other side.
Jin replayed the mistake, then opened footage of two other Hookclaw Lynxes. Their recoveries varied. One stayed close after the strike; the other broke either way according to its opponent’s position.
The habit wasn’t inevitable. Whether Emery’s lynx had been trained into it or simply preferred that movement, Jin couldn’t tell from the recordings.
He marked nine examples and two comparisons, checking that each showed the heavy hook rather than an ordinary swipe. At the top of the file, he wrote a short explanation and the timestamps.
Then he reread it and removed half the explanation. The clips were clearer.
Hollis Dray was one of the two First-Class, nine-Star representatives. Jin found her beside a feed crate with Argent, her heavy-shouldered spinehound, waiting patiently at her knee.
"Do you have a minute?" he asked.
"For what?"
He showed her the file.
Dray watched four clips without interrupting. When she reached the barrier, she backed the recording up herself.
"Only after the hook?"
"That’s the pattern. She moves both ways otherwise."
"And you’re sure these aren’t all from one match?"
"The match labels are underneath."
Dray checked them, then looked at Argent.
"If she’s still doing it, we might use it. Get a practice booking. I have time after lunch."
Jin had been ready to explain the whole thing again. He put his phone away before he spoiled the answer he’d received.
They used an agile reedcat from the academy’s practice stable. Its handler worked with a padded lure until it could approximate the sequence: commit to a strike down and across, then escape left.
It couldn’t reproduce the lynx’s weight or the force of its hook. Dray watched it twice before allowing Argent onto the floor.
"We’re testing the interception," she told Jin. "This doesn’t tell us whether he can take the actual strike."
"Agreed."
The handler reset the lure. Argent waited outside the marked attack lane, ears forward.
Dray called the first interception when the reedcat broke left. Argent crossed behind it and had to turn sharply to avoid running beyond the practice area.
"Late," Dray said.
Jin reopened their recording. He could see the problem, but he let her watch before speaking.
"The escape has already started when you call," he said. "There’s an earlier cue."
He showed her the lynx’s shoulder loading, then the twist that followed. Dray crouched beside Argent and watched the frames advance.
"Here?" she asked.
"A little after that. At this point she can still change the attack."
Dray studied the next few frames. "Once the chest turns, she’s committed."
"To the hook," Jin said. "We still have to trust the habit for where she goes afterward."
The second attempt was too early. Argent moved so visibly that the reedcat abandoned its strike and darted away from him.
"Anything would change its mind if you showed it that much," the handler said, bringing the lure back.
Dray nodded. She didn’t blame Argent. She walked the angle herself, shortened it, and brought him back to the mark.
The third attempt worked.
Argent moved while the reedcat was committed to the downward strike. He cleared the marked claw path and reached the left recovery lane as the cat landed. Dray stopped him short of contact.
Jin leaned forward without realizing it.
"Again," she said.
They repeated the sequence with different starting angles. Some attempts were still early or late, but the successful ones shared the same cue. Dray adjusted her command and Argent’s starting distance between runs, making changes Jin would not have known how to give him.
By the end, they could reproduce the opening across several approaches.
Dray knelt to check Argent’s paws. "Useful. But if the lynx stays in after the hook, this puts him beside her."
"We should include an exit for that," Jin said.
"We should. And I want another look at what she does when someone crowds her before the strike."
Jin added it to the file. He had found a habit. Dray was already working out what happened when the habit wasn’t there.
Marris reviewed the clips and the practice footage before the afternoon block finished.
"Keep the limitations at the top," she said. "The recordings may be old enough for Sun to have corrected this. A real bout will tell us more than an imitation drill."
Jin nodded.
"But this goes into the scouting notes. Good work, both of you."
She returned his phone without promising him a bout. He hadn’t expected one, though a hopeful part of him had briefly tried.
Dray caught him outside.
"If you find something on Verdance Hall, send it to me," she said. "Argent’s likely to have a harder time with their roster."
"I’ve barely started theirs."
"Then send it when you have."
Jin watched her leave, pleased enough that he had to resist opening the roster immediately. She had asked because the first file had helped.
Back at the care block, he checked Glitch’s foreleg and divided tomorrow’s feed into sealed portions. Flicker’s supplies took much less space, although she complicated the packing by landing on whichever container he wanted next.
He let her inspect the carry frame, rewarded her for stepping inside, and left it open beside him while he worked.
Then he gave the Engine an hour.
The junction route ran cleanly. He banked the development, checked the balance, and closed the session when his alarm sounded.
[Accumulated development: banked]
Glitch was still eight-Star. There was no need to fit another transfer around a bruised leg and tomorrow’s journey.
Jin tucked Doyen’s care sheet into the travel folder. He still had to collect equipment from the upper annex before its desk closed, and call home afterward.
For once, he was leaving the game because there were other things he wanted to get done.