[ WP ] You are a brilliant Med School student who uses extensive knowledge on the human body to win street fights for money to pay for tuition . One night you face your most difficult opponent : a Physics major

Some people train for combat by going to the gym. By sparring. The fools. I know every facet of the human body. Every weak point, every organ. I can visualize your entire nervous system as if I could see right through you, and with enough force to the right spot, I can cripple you without you even knowing you were exposed. 
 
 So far, I have been content to beat up on other, lesser students in a little fight club for spoiled rich kids too bored with their comfortable lives. I won a little tournament we had last weekend, and caught the attention of a scout. At least, that is what he said he was. He told me that boss runs a fight club, the real thing, not the hipster backyard wrestling we had going on. This is the kind of fight our dads would be betting on. Apparently they round up urban types who bash each other senseless for their amusement. He put me in touch with his boss, who offered me a shot at a $ 20,000 purse. I did n't hesitate. No one can stop me. 
 
 Tonight is the big night. I did n't do anything special to prepare. I did n't need to. I expect to win the same way I always have, by rushing in and jabbing my opponent's exposed nerves, then kneeing him in the solar plexus or just pushing him over. No need to get fancy. I'm not being graded. 
 
 The `` arena'' is an unfinished apartment structure a few stories high built like a doughnut around a large empty pool. The balconies on the apartments overlooking the pool act like private booths for the crowd, and there are hundreds of faces looking down from them. Multi-colored lights hang underneath, lighting the pool up almost like a rave. Two featherweight hispanic guys are flailing around at each other, but not hitting much. Imagine myself taking them both out in seconds and then shouting, `` Are you not entertained?!'' I smirk. One of them eventually goes down. The crowd roars. I see money being thrown from some of the balconies. When they drag the guy away, I notice that the pool has some dark spots. Is that blood? Maybe I can trick my opponent into slipping on it. 
 
 The scout tells me I'm up. He has this huge shit-faced grin that makes me want to punch him. I guess he is proud of his new talent. Well, I'd better get this over with. I will have to fight at least 3 times tonight, so I'd better save my strength. 
 
 As I walk out, the announcer really lays it on thick with my academic credentials and medical knowledge. He really plays me up as some kind of genius ninja. He's not wrong. Heh, maybe I should bring him along on job interviews? I'm pretty sure I heard him call me `` Sherlock''. 
 
 So I hop down into the pool. It's pretty coarse and... yeah that's a lot of blood. Alright, as long as it's not mine. Let's do this. Suddenly, the crowd erupts, and I see more money being thrown. For... me? Wait, no. It's my challenger. He's a couple inches taller than me, but way more ripped. Also, lots of tats. They call him `` the Professor'', and say he dropped out of MIT on a full ride for physics, in order to do MMA. Pretty sure it's sarcasm. The guy does n't look like he could spell MIT. Heh. 
 
 We face off. I plan my attack. I will duck, sidestep, and shut down his right leg, then keep circling back to the kidneys, then hit everything exposed when he comes back at me. All that muscle wo n't matter when his brain ca n't send signals to it. Everyone here is going to just have to watch their favorite get dropped like a bitch. 
 
 A chime sounds. He moves almost in slow motion, stepping forward with his right. I duck and weave, jabbing at his upper right leg. I hit exactly where I aim. I always do. This is too easy. I take a step to the lef- 
 
 My head jerks back. He grabbed my hair!? How?? Shit. He lifts me completely off the ground. I kick at him. He just laughs. Alright, focus. I am going to make him regret this. I lash out with a flurry of blows at all his weak spots. No effect. Fuck this. I jab at his eyes, and promptly get my face slammed into the floor. I'm numb. Everything is a blur. Then I feel searing pain shoot through my ribs. Okay, so I guess only my face was numb. Then it gets smashed into the floor again. Maybe it was n't quite as numb as I thought. Then I realize something. 
 
 I am very smart. Well, obviously, right? But being so smart means that, right here and now, I realize a few basic things about my circumstances. First, I am obviously not in good enough shape, and lacking in pretty much all the actual fighting skills. I was good enough to beat up other kids who were even more spoiled and out of shape and inept at fighting. Second, unless a person pretty much stands still and let's you do it, trying to hit pressure points is stupid. That's why no actual fighters do it. And here I thought it was just because they were too stupid. Third, this is clearly a set up. The scout would have known how badly I'd get my ass kicked, so apparently watching a rich kid get beat up makes for some quality amusement. I'd plot my revenge but, well, I'm in the process of getting punched pretty hard in the balls. This guy is really an artist, you know. Every time I think I am too numb to feel anything more, he manages to surprise me. 
 
 Then I black out. 
 
 When I wake up, I'm in a hospital, my face covered in bandages. I'm pretty drugged up, but I manage to make out that I have several broken ribs, and my face is in pretty rough shape. Also lots of soft tissue damage. I'll be here for weeks. That's not even the best part, though. You know what the best part is? 
 
 This old asian guy comes in and sits down next to me. He just stares at me for like an hour. After I manage to croak something unintelligible out, he tells me that one of my `` victims'' was his son. His son is a physics grad student at my school. I beat him up, and he bombed a big test afterward. His father holds me personally responsible for that. So he paid the promoter to set me up and put me up against a real MMA fighter to teach me a lesson. He made sure I would get beat up bad enough to miss my exams later this month. Eye for an eye.
