Chapter 6: Fighter Insurance

Though he'd asked if Melissa wanted to go with him to look at apartments, she'd wanted to focus on her training... and honestly, he was glad. Not because it wouldn't have been fun to have her along, but because he wasn't certain how it would go. There was a big difference between just looking at listings online and having landlords size him up as they gave their tours.

Maybe with his sister it would have been more exciting, but Rick found himself torn between boredom and apprehension. He didn't care about most of the amenities in the apartments, he was just concerned over whether or not he could actually afford them. Based on how the landlords talked, they seemed to expect people to get excited and imagine living in a new place, but Rick didn't care about that either. The point of moving was to build a better life and that would take more than a bigger fridge or community playground.

"If you're interested, you better move quick." The current landlord was a middle-aged man with a gut barely contained by his Hawaiian shirt. He seemed to have a fair amount of lucrim, but his generation rate was deeply strange in a way Rick couldn't figure out. "These apartments don't stay open for long."

"Thanks for the tip. Give me a minute." Rick looked away from the man over the apartment, trying to decide if it was worth pulling the trigger on the application. He didn't think the man was lying: this apartment complex was clean, reasonably priced, and not horribly far from the center of Branton. It was certainly a better balance than many of the places he'd looked at.

"I could give ya the application, but maybe I can save us both some time. Get me some proof of income and assets and you'll be 90% of the way there already."

"Oh, I planned for that." He knew that much at least, so he pulled a pay stub out of his pocket. "I've been working at this gym for a long time, so I'm due for another raise or a better job."

"Uh huh, sure." The landlord eyed him skeptically and then looked at the pay stub. "I'll be honest, kid, this isn't great. Usually you don't want your rent to be more than 40% of your income. If your ether score wasn't decent I'd probably reject you now. You have lucrim assets?"

"A reasonable amount, actually." Rick pulled out his phone and found his portfolio.

To his surprise, the landlord frowned when he saw it. His eyebrows knitted closer and closer together before he turned away. "So you've got a bit over 8000 in Graham's Stake. Personally that's never been for me - the family always went for secondary foundations - but it's worth something. But with a bunch of cores like that, you're probably drawing off the excess for fighting, aren't you?"

"No, I'm reinvesting it." Rick put his phone away, slightly irritated that it hadn't counted for more. "But what about all the rest? You're telling me that doesn't matter?"

"Unless you're planning to liquidate all of those combat cores, they mean jack squat. Less than that, since your lucrim is going to get spent on elixirs and shit if you intend to keep building them. You planning to retire any time soon?"

Rick closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying not to feel humiliated. He was used to dealing with other fighters, but he should have expected people with completely different priorities. Maybe it would have been better to ask Lisa and have her point out his stupid mistakes, but he didn't want to embarrass himself in front of her, either.

"Yeah, I figured." The landlord eyed him disapprovingly. "Look, kid, you've got more lucrim than some people I rent to, but you need to clean up your act. Put your lucrim into something simple and safe, maybe a Legacy Core. Definitely get rid of that leech - that looks awful in anyone's portfolio. If you can manage those things, I'd be willing to overlook the rest."

"Okay." Rick rubbed his eyes and stayed calm. This landlord was being more honest than some who had rejected him with deceptive smiles, so better to keep pushing and find out what the issues were. "I can't do that in time for this apartment, but you'll have other openings, right? Is there anything else I need to finish my application?"

The landlord scratched his stomach and thought for a bit. "The main other thing you'd need is your security deposit. I'm not seeing you with enough assets for that."

Rick frowned and glanced at his phone again. "I have a decent amount of extra lucrim. Even if you want several months as a deposit, that should b-"

"No, not the normal one. The fighter deposit."

"What?" Rick stared back at him, hoping that it wasn't what it sounded like.

"I don't know what kind of place you were renting before, but this isn't some 'no questions asked' shithole." The landlord frowned at him and folded his arms. "Fighters are always a risk because there's a chance they'll screw up training, get attacked by rivals, or start a fight and destroy their entire apartment. Doubly so if they're from the wrong side of the tracks. Any decent apartment you get, you're going to need a sizable down payment as fighter insurance."

Though it made logical sense, Rick bristled at the condemnation contained within. "How much are we talking about?"

"Assuming your background check came back clean? I'd say 100,000 lucrim."

"What?" Rick's control failed him - not only did he almost shout the word, he took a step forward. The landlord grunted angrily, his frown twisting into something worse.

"Do you have any idea how expensive this building is? This place is my job and savings and retirement all in one - I'm not going to risk going bankrupt because some yahoo with a bit of power decided to smash it all down."

Reeling, Rick took a step back and leaned against one of the apartment walls. He'd never imagined that he would be forced to put up such a large amount of money. Maybe he was being cheated or the huge number was to make him give up, but he thought it was the truth. No wonder apartments that catered specifically to fighters were so prohibitively expensive - he'd thought they were just luxurious, but he hadn't fully considered the risks.

"Sounds like you're not applying. If that's so, let's stop wasting my time, okay?"

"No, wait." Rick didn't know if he could come up with 100,000 lucrim - he wasn't sure anyone in his family had ever had that much money at once - but he could figure that out later. This was still the best option he'd considered and he didn't want to let it slip past. "You had a few concerns, but by the next apartment opening, I promise you I'll have them taken care of. What can I do to get priority consideration?"

"Finish the application and do your background checks, I suppose." The landlord scratched his stomach and eyed Rick skeptically. "Given the circumstances, I want the money up front. That'll be $100 for the criminal background check and 50 lucrim for the portfolio analysis."

After so many nasty surprises, Rick was able to hold back his flinch, but he still winced at the newest surprise. "Wait a minute, I need to pay you just to check me? And you might just get the results and then turn me away?"

"That's how this works, kid. You expect me to just eat the cost of every person who wants to rent an apartment?"

"I don't know, I figured you'd have some kind of special system for it... and why do you need a portfolio analysis? You've already seen my lucrima portfolio!"

The landlord stared at him for a long moment, then shook his head. "If you're really worried about a tiny fee, then I don't think you're in a position to be renting any real apartment, much less mine. This tour is over. If you ever come back, you'd better have documentation of a lot more lucrim in hand."

Just like that, it was over. An old instinct urged Rick to apologize, but he suppressed it since the landlord was being an asshole. Another part of him wanted to lash out in anger, but he knew that it was just because he felt humiliated. This hadn't been the first time the poverty of his family had embarrassed him, it was just that he'd thought that he'd gotten past that...

When he got out onto the sidewalk, he just stared for a while, mentally catching up. The first thing he tried to do was call Uncle Frank, then angrily hung up when he didn't get a response. A moment later he realized that it was night on the other side of the world, so of course his uncle wouldn't answer. He called again and left a message saying that he needed advice on housing issues.

Framing the problem in a rational manner went a long way toward calming him down. He'd faced nastier challenges from people who wanted to maim or kill him, so he could get through this. And though the experience had been bitter, he felt reassured that he had made the right decision to stop fighting in the Underground.

The days when someone could make a living just by being strong were over. His martial strength wasn't useless, but it was good to remember that for many people, that strength didn't have any significance. If he wanted to build a meaningful life for himself, he needed to consider more than one path.

What path he intended to take, he wasn't sure. In ancient times he might have been valued, with elders pouring investments into him to boost his strength, but now he only had himself. He found his mind wandering to the agents of the Global Lucrim Authority that he'd met. They had nice clothes, an abundance of lucrim, and almost universal respect. Maybe taking that job wouldn't be so bad after all.

Rick gave the aura technique another try, but he still wasn't sure about several of the details. Besides, in his present state, he wasn't going to accomplish anything complex. What he needed was to talk to someone, but he didn't want to burden Melissa with his own problems.

After a while, Rick pulled out his phone and made a call he hadn't intended. "Lisa? Hi. Nothing's wrong, but I was wondering if we could reschedule our next sparring session..."