Author's Note: Japanese names always bug me, for in Japan, the last name goes first. Did I get this chapter's name right, or should I have called it 'VS Midou Ban'? Perhaps I'll never know.

DISCLAIMER: …Did I forget to put one up way back, when this story first begun? Either way, I'd like to remind you, the readers, that I do not own Gig, nor do I own any other character that has/will appear in this story. If I did, there would've been a Soul Nomad cameo in that recently-released Phantom Brave remake for the Wii.

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CHAPTER 3: Battle of the Jackasses

El Nino. Monsoon season. A time of the year when the weather really began to suck. Gig wasn't sure what exactly the tournament hosts would call what was going on outside, but he didn't like it one bit. Vitali had been amazed when the rains started up, mumbling some nonsense about how the droplets could have passed through the force field surrounding the isle. Gig had bigger concerns to worry about, though. After all, even if he had miraculously accessed his inner powers again during his fight with the Leroy, his current body was still pretty shabby…including having a horrible disease-control system.

"ATCHOO! Nammid, Bitali; hurry up!" Gig hissed…or at least, tried as best as he could to hiss with a phlegm-filled nose. While more often connected to healing wounds gained in battles, clerics like the one Gig was allied with were also capable of more mundane tasks like curing colds. That didn't mean the process was quick and easy, of course.

"…In your condition, a little rest can do wonders, so just try to relax for a few moments," Vitali told the demi-human, trying hard to avoid uttering a flat-out 'Shut up; being a doctor is hard enough without your whining'. "Now, it appears that Membrane, the man we won this temporary abode from, didn't leave behind many materials that I could use in my medicine. While I could use your protection again, you'd be best staying in here and out of the bad weather whilst I go out and find some herbs."

"For dour sae, dou'd better durry," Gig said, giving a glare that seemed to pierce the soul. Vitali, wisely, beat a hasty retreat. As soon as the cleric left, Gig let out a mighty sneeze; one large enough to temporarily clear his nose and allow clear speech again, to the relief of the author writing this. The white-haired man then sat down on the patch of dirt he had been using for the past few days, and waited for the cleric to return. Knowing the stealthy Vitali, it shouldn't be too long a wait.

~!~!~

Three and a half hours later, and Vitali was still a no-show.

"What the fuck could've happened to the geek?!" Gig shouted, his cry echoing inside of the cavern. After a while, with nothing else to occupy his thoughts, he also found himself thinking about Revya, and Danette, and Odie…the last of which was quite odd, he realized. The failure-rific mage was nothing but the leader of a Goldfish Poop Gang, and then had, what, fifteen minutes in the spotlight after a Heel Face Turn? …Still, one had to wonder just what became of the poor Dragonian…

~!~!~

Meanwhile, a good eighty or ninety mile away from Grand Cross Isle, in the middle of the sea, away from the storm clouds, we can identify sixteen merpeople and one very melancholy wizard…

"You know, back when we were on dry land, this didn't seem like such a bad idea," Odie sighed.

"Well, maybe if you had told that navy guy that you were lost, instead of coming up with some ridiculous story about being a fisherman, then we could've found the island by now," Juno replied.

"What if he was part of that group my brother was a part of? We'd be DEAD in seconds! Besides, it was weeks ago; just give me a break!"

"How can I, when I know that I've left my darling Penn behind?"

"Well, at least he's well-protected. There's the thousand or so Nerieds that are still in your village, plus Endorph, Danette, Galahad, Pinot, Agrippa, and all of our other friends. And then there's…"

"That doesn't matter! The entire continent could be risking their lives to make sure not a single hair on Penn's little head is out of place, and I'll still be worried about the little darling!"

"Well, as the current Dio, all I can say to that is- OW!"

"…Ow?"

"A bottle! A bottle just came out of nowhere and hit me square in the mask!" Odie stated, rubbing the sore spot that has been on the side of his face/mask/you-know-what-I-mean for all of five seconds.

Juno was quite curious as to what just happened; acting on this impulse, she gazed ahead with her Nereid eyes, and noticed something odd. Some ways out, perhaps a good twenty miles, there was a rowboat quite similar to theirs. However, this boat appeared to be driven by a man in a flashy costume…it looked like it was black and red, but from this far out, Juno couldn't be absolutely certain. But, the details didn't really matter; after all, to see another boat out this way only meant one thing.

"Odie, I think we're almost there! I think we're almost at that Grand Cross Isle place from your brother's memoirs!"

"…Really? Excellent! It will only be a matter of time until we find the sinister corporation my brother was a part of, infiltrate it, and then…then…uh…geez, I really should've thought this plan through better."

~!~!~

"…Eh, that nitwit probably fried himself to death with one of his own lightning bolts," Gig thought aloud, not knowing of the true fate of the current Dio of the Evil Eye. It was then that he noticed a figure standing in the rain outside of his base; while his first thought was that it must be Vitali returning from his herb search, Gig realised that the person's figure was all wrong. This only meant one thing.

This was another contestant, and this was blood-spilling time. And if Gig got a good enough shot, even in his sub-par condition, it might also be entrails-spilling time.

"Nothing special…but, I guess it'll do until the rain stops," the stranger said to himself as he entered the cavern and glanced around the place. The place had a dirt floor, high ceiling, the occasional plant, and a man with a red nose…probably due to the horrible weather conditions. The stranger, Midou Ban, decided not to remark on the fellow's presence; he wanted to be more focused on any weapons the man held than on the man himself, especially since he had lost a few hairs to a flying sword while examining mountains some time ago.

Now, anybody that knows Gig, knows that he has a very short temper. Combined with feeling under the weather, and you've got yourself one angry teenager with semi-phenomenal, nearly-cosmic powers. "What the hell are you looking at, you…you…ATCHOO! …You jackass! This is MY hideout, so unless you'd like to be ripped inside-out and have your spine decimated, hit the road!"

Unlike his previous opponent, it appeared to Ban that Gig was both the kind of guy that would be fine fighting somebody he hardly knew, AND overconfident in his own abilities. With any hope, this would be twice as interesting as the fight with Nero had been. "Temper, temper. Can't a guy at least wait out a storm without worrying about murderers nowadays? Besides, look at yourself; I would doubt you could even catch a cold, except your sneeze has already disproven such a thought."

"Couldn't catch a cold?!" Gig stammered, as the stranger had made a direct hit on one of his berserk buttons. "You've got no clue who you're looking at, punk! I'm motherfucking GIG, the killer of kings and destroyer of worlds! And as the most powerful, not to mention ONLY, official Master of Death on this fucking island, you've got three seconds to scram before I separate your soul from your body!"

A hothead, a loudmouth, AND the embodiment of human expiration itself? Ban knew that hope was no longer necessary; this would definitely be one of the high points of this silly little tournament for him. "Only three seconds? I'd imagine it would take that long just to get off of your scraggly haunches and-"

"That's it; hope you enjoyed those three seconds! It's time to bring the slaughter straight to the lamb!" Gig shouted as he leapt like a lynx, his mouth in a contorted grin, towards his opponent. Deciding that an annoying loudmouth like the little twerp in front of him should just die as soon as possible, Gig focused all of his strength into piercing his opponent's chest with nothing else than his bare fist and the tiny amount of demon energy that his mortal frame could hold onto. Then, with a yank, Ban's heart had been removed from his body in a way that would make a Mortal Kombatant weep with joy.

"And another one bites the dust!" Gig gloated, as he threw the heart over his shoulder and stared at the dead body. Now, had Gig been fighting a regular, run-of-the-mill mortal, this would be the end; having the organ that pumps life-sustaining blood throughout your system ejected in the most painful method possible is not something that all but the fiercest opponents could survive. Which is why Gig actually looked surprised when the stranger's body started twitching, and within seconds, was back on its feet.

"Holy shit…" Gig uttered in surprise, his mouth agape. What he saw before him was vastly different than what had hit the ground. The boy's eyes were shining, and as blank as newly-fallen snow, suggesting that whatever traces of a soul he had moments earlier had completely faded away. His jaw, clinging onto the rest of his face by only a few strands of rotting flesh, revealed that his teeth were now pointed. In short, it was like looking in the face of a beast that had been feral all its life, had died from rabies, and had then come back as a zombie. The rest of the boy's body matched this image perfectly.

However, what Gig saw did not truly exist; one of Midou Ban's skills was that he was a master of illusion. In actuality, the boy had snuck to the back of the cavern some time ago; back when Gig stared him in the eyes and told him he had three seconds to leave. He thought it was cute that he was able to pull the same trick twice on two separate demonic (at least, seemingly demonic) entities, especially considering that Gig had referred to himself as the kind of guy who sees dead things on a regular basis. Perhaps he was nothing other than some boaster just trying to get a fierce reputation without walking the walk…

…Or perhaps he actually had the talent to back up his claims, Ban considered, as he then saw Gig headbutt the imaginary beast. The white-haired man then ripped out the arm of Ban's fake self, and proceeded to shove it claw-first up the beast's hindquarters. "This is the greatest thing ever! You wouldn't BELIEVE how many bastards I just wish I could kill over and over again! Boy…or whatever the hell you are…you certainly picked the wrong demon with a head cold to mess with!"

Realizing that his illusion had backfired, Ban dismissed his fake self, while still Gig's mind clouded enough to stay hidden. "Heh…so, you're gonna play the coward now?" Gig asked the air around him. "Pathetic! Just come out and fight like a man! Better yet, come out and fight like a corpse, one that actually STAYS down for the count; it'll help you get used to what you'll be in about three minutes!"

"Interesting; the other man I've met on this island reacted with terror at that sight. Nice to see you're not as lame as you look. Heck, I might have to actually use my best technique on you," Ban commented from somewhere in the room, as he wound up a punch and prepared to knock Gig out.

"Best technique? Oh, please," Gig scoffed, quickly turning around and blocking the punch aimed at his head. Knowing how to identify the faint traces of a mortal spirit was one of Gig's innate abilities as a Master of Death; it made the whole 'collect-souls-that-need-to-be-reincarnated' thing go smoothly. "So you can play a few head games; my personal slave Vitali can do that just by talking. What kind of technique do you think could actually threaten a badass like me?"

"This one. Snake Bite!" Midou called out, his speed faster than Gig's reaction time. In all honesty, yelling the name of a technique at your opponent is actually a silly thing to do. But, as his fist burrowed into Gig's chest, and the killer of kings fell to the ground as limp as a ragdoll, the GetBacker thought that it was the little things like that which made a fight actually enjoyable. "Now, if you really wanted to eliminate ten percent of my spinal column, you should've been faster then that."

"What are you…oh, yeah; the 'decimate' thing," Gig said, trying to hide the fact that having someone's hand inches away from his heart wasn't a big deal. He also tried his hardest to ignore the fact that his current situation was the first move he used against Ban himself. "By the way, get your fucking fist out of my fucking chest; Vitali's going to be pissed if he comes back and has to cure more than a case of the sniffles. And did I forget to mention that I'm the embodiment of freakin' DEATH?! You REALLY expect to just off me here and now?"

"I've been thinking about that," Ban stated, taking some time to enjoy groping around Gig's insides while the white-haired man was practically paralyzed. "Yeah, you proved that seeing dead things and the idea of dying yourself aren't major threats. But what powers do you have? Or, should I say that as, why haven't you used anything other than your bare hands to try and get rid of me? I doubt you even have the sword and scythe of a true Grim Reaper."

"No…but I've got one hell of a golf club," Gig uttered, stretching out as far as he could to the golf club he had taken from Waluigi, which had been given to Vitali, who had luckily left it behind when he left earlier that afternoon. He fingers were able to just reach the handle, and with a quick twist of the wrist, he belted Ban in the back of the head. The boy fell to the ground, and Gig proceeded to slam the club into his body, until both his arms and legs had been broken beyond repair. Gig was going to finish him off then and there, but decided to wait until he could get some of Vitali's bandages to cover the gaping chest wound.

After finding some gauze in one of the cabinets that Membrane had crudely installed before being kicked out by Vitali, Gig returned to the body of the stranger. "So…wait a second. You never gave me a name, did you? Spill it; I'm going to need SOMETHING to write on your tombstone."

"Ban. Ban Midou, of the GetBackers," the almost-dead boy whispered, his lungs bleeding internally.

"…And here I was, thinking 'Waluigi' was a stupid name. Ban, before you go off into that wild black-and-blue yonder, I just want to say something about that 'sword and scythe' thing you mentioned a minute ago. I've actually read a bit of mythology before, y'know. And according to a lot of you wimpy mortals, the reapers of souls use scythes to collect the spirits of the poor, and swords to collect the spirits of a king. Now, realize that I'm about to off you with a golf club. Do you want to know what that symbolizes? All of this has been nothing but a game to me, and you lose. Thanks for playing, and next time, set the difficulty level to 'pathetically easy'; you might actually last half a minute longer."

One more impact into the cranium, and whatever mental processes needed to run the human body were permanently offline. Gig decided to drag Ban's lifeless body into a corner of the cavern; while the smell would probably drive him batty once his sinuses were cleared out, the boy would rot even worse if left out in the storm. Plus, like the man Gig won his new hat from, the corpse probably had some cool gear stashed somewhere on his person. But, that was for another day; right now, he would get back to trying to relax, just like Vitali had recommended he do over four hours ago…

"…Hey, wait a second! What the fuck happened to that damn cleric?! Bastard STILL hasn't come back yet!"

~!~!~

"Hmm…this could prove to be quite interesting," the man oft described as 'Ethereal' muttered, as he stared into the eyes of the young man standing before him. "I accept."

END OF CHAPTER 3

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Author's Note: In case I say in my profile that I lost this round, please search for the author known as Khellan Rafe, and read his story about Ban to find out what happened to poor ol' Gig. And if I win, check it out anyways; why shouldn't you? He's a rather skilled author, you know.