Chapter 29: Stacked Odds
Kirbo tightened his stance, watching Laugh's every move as his opponent shakily rose to his feet. Laugh's once-cocky grin had morphed into something darker—something more dangerous.
"I'll hand it to you, Kirbo," Laugh sneered, blood trickling down the side of his mouth. "You're tougher than I gave you credit for."
Laugh planted his feet, his magic surging as he whispered, "I bet I'll survive the next five minutes."
As the words left his mouth, a surge of energy enveloped him, his aura intensifying. Kirbo watched cautiously, recognizing the familiar glint of luck in Laugh's eyes. This wasn't just any gamble—this was his endgame.
Laugh looked up, his grin returning. "One down. Four to go."
Before Kirbo could react, Laugh lunged forward, moving faster than before, his newfound energy propelling him at a blinding speed. Kirbo sidestepped, but Laugh twisted mid-stride, narrowly avoiding Kirbo's katana by what seemed like pure chance.
Kirbo gritted his teeth, focusing his gaze. He could sense Laugh's movements had become erratic, almost random, as if probability itself was bending to his will.
"Guess I'll make another one," Laugh muttered with a grin. "I bet... you'll miss your next attack."
Kirbo lashed out with his katana, but Laugh moved like water, twisting around each strike as if predicting Kirbo's movements down to the millisecond. His dodges grew more fluid, his smirk widening with every near-miss.
"That's two," Laugh said, his voice dripping with confidence.
Kirbo's eyes narrowed. He knew Laugh's Golden High ability was unpredictable, but this was becoming something else. Laugh's magic was stacking in his favor, and Kirbo had to be smarter, faster, more precise. There was no room for error now.
Laugh raised his hand, placing a third bet. "I bet you won't touch me for the next thirty seconds."
Kirbo gripped his katana tighter, calming his breathing. Time seemed to slow as he activated Time Hop, moving himself out of Laugh's sight and appearing behind him, launching a powerful strike. But, as if by pure chance, Laugh shifted at the last moment, narrowly evading the blow.
Kirbo kept his stance low, gritting his teeth. "He's manipulating the probability around him," he muttered to himself. "But I can play this game too."
With a deep breath, Kirbo launched another flurry of attacks, trying to counter Laugh's erratic dodging. His blade swung in fluid arcs, aiming for weak spots, gaps in Laugh's defenses. But each time, Laugh's probability manipulation seemed to twist fate in his favor. Laugh grinned, managing to place a fourth bet amidst the chaos.
"I bet I'll dodge every strike you throw at me in the next minute!"
Kirbo stopped himself, analyzing the situation. Laugh's luck had surged to an almost ridiculous level, but Kirbo was no stranger to fighting against the odds. This was a game of probability—and he could bend it too.
Kirbo locked his gaze on Laugh, his stance shifting as he readied himself. Time Hop shimmered around him as he calculated his next moves, choosing each step with surgical precision.
Laugh launched forward, still smirking, but Kirbo reacted faster. He stepped aside, redirecting his opponent's movement, then lashed out with his katana, catching Laugh by surprise. Laugh staggered, his grin faltering as Kirbo pressed on, ignoring Laugh's desperate attempts to dodge.
But Laugh's Golden High had reached its peak, and he slammed his hand to the ground with one final bet.
"I bet... I'll survive anything you throw at me now!"
Golden light erupted from Laugh, enveloping him as probability became his plaything. His speed, strength, and resilience surged, the odds stacking overwhelmingly in his favor. Kirbo felt the weight of Laugh's power, but he knew better than to waver.
Kirbo gripped his katana tightly, his magic flaring as he focused his mind. He moved again with Time Hop, evading Laugh's wild strikes while keeping his own precision. Each time Laugh lunged, Kirbo was already moving, anticipating his attacks, forcing Laugh to adapt even within his luck-driven state.
"You think you can play with fate itself?" Kirbo muttered, sidestepping another swing. "I'll break through that luck of yours."
As the two clashed, Laugh's wild swings grew more desperate, each strike starting to lag behind Kirbo's perfect timing. Just as Kirbo saw his opening and prepared to end the fight, a strange sound echoed through the air—a low, ominous chuckle.
"Need some help, Laugh?" a slick, mocking voice called out.
From the shadows, Ducko appeared, his dessert-themed attire almost comical against the battle-torn backdrop. With a flick of his hand, he summoned massive, beastly creations made entirely of pastries—a bear with layers of sponge cake for fur, a snake with scales made of caramelized sugar. The creatures lurched forward, their monstrous forms standing between Kirbo and his nearly-finished opponent.
Kirbo glanced at the creatures, brow furrowed. "What's this?" he demanded, eyes narrowing at Ducko.
"Oh, just thought I'd sweeten the odds," Ducko replied with a smirk. He raised a hand, gesturing toward Laugh. "Besides, can't let my friend here take all the glory."
Kirbo's expression hardened. Ducko's interference wasn't part of the plan, and now he was outnumbered. But he wasn't about to let these two stop him.
"Ducko, huh?" Kirbo muttered, sizing up the two enemies and their pastry beasts. "Let's see what you've got."
The beasts surged forward, their movements surprisingly agile for creatures made of confectionery. Kirbo dodged, slicing through layers of cake and frosting, but the creatures seemed endless, each slice regenerating as more sweets piled onto their forms. The caramel snake lunged, its sugar-coated fangs snapping dangerously close to Kirbo, but he twisted out of the way, cutting a chunk of its head off.
"You're really gonna need more than sweets to stop me!" Kirbo taunted, as he shifted his stance to avoid the bear's heavy, batter-laden paws.
But Laugh took advantage of the distraction, stepping forward and laughing as he summoned yet another burst of magic, probability bending the world to his favor. Kirbo dodged, but the luck-fueled magic was relentless, forcing him to remain constantly on the defensive.
Kirbo glanced around, his mind racing. He couldn't take them both head-on like this—he needed an opening. With a sudden thought, he drew in a deep breath and called out:
"Pixel!"
As if summoned from thin air, Pixel materialized beside him, his face expressionless yet alert. He looked at Kirbo, one eyebrow raised.
"Thought you could use a hand," Pixel said calmly.
Kirbo allowed himself a smirk. "Couldn't have come at a better time."
Pixel's eyes swept over the battlefield, sizing up the pastry beasts and their creators. "Pastry monsters, huh?" he muttered. "Alright, let's clean this up."
With a sharp nod, Kirbo and Pixel moved together, launching into action. Pixel's calm yet devastating strikes worked in perfect sync with Kirbo's time-skipping movements, allowing them to tear through the waves of pastry beasts.
Ducko's smirk faltered as he watched his creatures crumble before Pixel and Kirbo's combined might. Laugh, still cloaked in his aura of Golden High, was relentless, throwing everything he had at Kirbo, but with Pixel by his side, Kirbo finally had an edge.
Ducko's laughter was forced now, each of his creations destroyed as soon as he summoned them. But his voice rang out, deceptively calm. "Alright, boys, it looks like this just got a whole lot more interesting."
Kirbo and Pixel stood side by side, ready to face whatever new tricks Laugh and Ducko had up their sleeves.
