"Gojūske, are you paying attention?"
The young man yawned, covering his mouth. "Yeah, yeah, look, can we get this over with? You said you were gonna give me a good fight here, right?" He asked as he stretched, his loose fitting kimono easily accommodating his motions. The outfit, whose top had a flame motif, was certainly one designed to be ceremonial, but it was also built for training, and as such, had to allow for some movement. "So what, just gotta beat this guy you're callin' to a pulp, then call it a day, yeah?" He asked.
Gojūsuke's attendant sighed. "Perhaps you're oversimplifying things a bit, but yes, you're to fight the champion that will be summoned here."
"Yeah, yeah," Gojūsuke sighed, looking around the dark room. "Chamber of Dreams, huh? We can pretty much fight till death, and then we'd come out right as rain after. Bit boring if there's no thrill of that chance of death in it."
"The point isn't to have the 'thrill of death'." The attendant sighed once more, the young man having always tried his patience. He'd been training Gojūsuke for 11 years, since the young man was 8. Maybe a week ago, Gojūsuke had attained the title of Master, though all it really meant was that he'd learned the basics, and could handle himself in a fight.
This had bolstered the boy's ego far more than his skills could back up. "In any case, now that we're here, I'll explain who you're facing."
"Hell yes," Gojūsuke smirked, slamming a fist into his palm. "Hit me with it. Am I going to be facing a warlord? Sun Tzu? A god of war?"
"You'll be facing a boxer."
Gojūsuke's smirk faltered slightly. "Whatever, so where're we talking from? Somewhere fantastic, right?" He asked, quickly recovering.
It was the attendant's turn to smile. "He's from a Nexus Earth."
Gojūsuke's smirk evaporated now, quickly as it had come. "Wait, you're serious? So you're just setting me against a shmuck from a place where people are just... Normal?" He asked. "And a sportsman? So it's not even someone who's..." He ran a hand through his messy brown hair. "Ugh... Dammit... Fine, so what else."
"Well, let's see here," the attendant pulled out a note. "Tre'yan T'Mass, diseased at age 29-"
"Wait, diseased? You mean I'm fightin' a damn zombie!?"
"Don't interrupt." The attendant said. "But yes, diseased. He's a boxer, orthodox stance, featherweight champion, 6'1, around 120 pounds."
"... Ugh... Dead men don't have spirit..." Gojūsuke muttered to himself. "And that tall but only 120... Like I'll be fighting a toothpick... Dammit! This is completely lame!" The young man stood at 5'11, and weighed in at almost 170 pounds. While he wouldn't beat the man in height, Gojūsuke was likely to look like a truck in comparison. He zoned out at the rest of the explanation, feeling sorry for himself about having, in his mind, such a lame person for his first bought.
The Chamber of Dreams could summon willing champions from any number of worlds to fight. The battle always took place in an arena familiar to the one summoned, so no doubt, the smokey chamber would turn to a boxing ring as soon as the T'Mass guy was called. Gojūsuke cracked his knuckles, having lost some of his steam. "So just call the guy already." He said.
"Of course, of course," the beleaguered attendant mumbled, holding up a hand. "Tre'yan T'Mass, the Chamber of Dreams calls upon you as a champion! Come to us, so that we may strengthen our spirits and bodies against the strength of your fists!" He called out a small incantation, and the smoke began to swirl around the room.
While Gojūsuke was less than enthralled by his selected opponent, there was still some sense of anticipation to the dramatic flair of the chamber. He prepared himself, ready to see this skinny bastard he'd be fighting appear.