As I assess the scene before me, the three bullies steadily approach, cutting through the crowd of classmates. The surrounding students instinctively begin to shuffle aside, creating a clear path. The rows of desks that were once the anchors of our classroom now form an obstacle course in the midst of this tense confrontation. With a swift motion, I grasp a nearby desk with my right hand, its weight a mere trifle due to my superhuman capabilities. However, despite my enhanced abilities, the angle of this makeshift weapon feels off-kilter in my grip, reminding me of the need to further refine my martial arts skills.
Undeterred by the discrepancy, I ready myself for action. Lifting the desk above my head, I channel the energy for what's to come. The tension in the air is palpable as the room becomes a theater for this showdown. In one fluid motion, I hurl the desk forward, its trajectory resembling that of a thrown baseball. The wooden missile connects with the leftmost bully, a resounding impact reverberating through the space. The intended target threw his hands up in a feeble attempt at defense, yet the chair's edge still finds its mark, grazing his face with a sickening thud. The room echoes with the resulting cacophony, and a crimson trail begins to emerge from the struck bully's wounded face. The force of the blow proves devastating, shattering his arms and sending him collapsing to the floor, his head taking the brunt of the fall. One neutralized.
The remaining two aggressors remain undeterred, rallying their courage as they press forward. Amidst their advance, one of them shouts to his companion, their dialogue charged with determination, "To the right, we'll drop kick him!" Their coordination is undeniable as they split, dashing toward me from opposite sides. Gearing up for their synchronized attack, I position myself, arms poised to intercept their assault. Their leap commences, both assailants channeling their strength into a powerful right-legged kick. Swiftly, I seize the initiative, my hand clamping onto the first bully's airborne leg. He lets out a pained yelp as my grip tightens, thwarting his attack before it even fully materializes.
A wry grin graces my lips as I quip with a mixture of confidence and mockery, "You both don't have the gift, idiots." With an authoritative release, I free the captive leg and drop into a low crouch. The second aggressor's timing falters slightly, his kick erring towards his companion's head rather than its intended target. The result is an unfortunate collision between the two, leaving them sprawled on the ground, nursing their injuries.
Seeing my chance, I channel my extraordinary abilities anew. In a dynamic display of agility, I vault into the air, my legs finding purchase on the classroom ceiling. Every heartbeat counts now as I plan my descent. Without a moment's hesitation, I plunge downward like a missile, a lethal stamp aimed squarely at their chests. A collective gasp escapes their lips as the full force of my strike connects. Their attempts to draw breath become feeble, and the battle ends with a quick descent into unconsciousness.
As the reality of their defeat sets in, a hushed tremor ripples through the room. The once-aggressive classmates begin to disperse, a mixture of fear and awe compelling them to make their exit. With the threat neutralized, I take a moment to collect myself. Retrieving my backpack, I prepare to leave the classroom behind, its atmosphere now saturated with the echoes of the struggle that had transpired moments ago.
Reflecting on the scene of devastation that lay before me, I couldn't deny the creeping realization that perhaps I had allowed my anger to carry me too far. But even as this thought flickered across my conscience, I firmly quashed it. I couldn't afford to entertain such doubts, not after what they had subjected me to. What they had done was a far graver offense, and this was the justice they deserved—no, the justice they were owed.
My fingers clenched involuntarily, the poison of vindictive thoughts coursing through my veins like a corrosive toxin. Just then, the sound of the door creaking open shattered the tense air, and into the room stepped the teacher, his eyes widening in shock as they fell upon the four figures in various states of disarray.
"You've crossed a line that can't be ignored! What possessed you to assault four fellow students like this?", his voice trembled with a mixture of anger and disbelief, mirroring the maelstrom of emotions within me.
I met his gaze head-on, my eyes conveying a mixture of defiance and a chilling hatred. Stepping closer, I placed my hand on his shoulder, the grip firm and unyielding. "You turned a blind eye to their tormenting. I merely did you a favor. Or shall I unveil the secret of what happened with Mrs. Kaila?" The words were laden with a truth that threatened to unravel itself, given enough time. The memory of their cruel laughter and disturbing intimacy many times I was in the bathroom coming in handy.
Kaila, nearly a decade younger, stood as a painful reminder of his immorality. A revelation of their affair would undoubtedly lead to his downfall—professionally and domestically. His glare bore into me, a desperate attempt to mask his vulnerability behind his glasses. "You wouldn't dare," he hissed.
My grip on his shoulder tightened, his feeble attempt to shake me off proving futile against the iron determination that fueled me. He let out an involuntary whimper, defeated, "Fine. I'll support your claim of self-defense. But even then, you'll likely face suspension for a few weeks." My gaze remained fixed beyond him, through the glass that separated us from the curious onlookers beyond. "A few days or the story comes out," I countered calmly, a subtle threat woven into my words, a reminder of the power I held over his fragile world.
He nodded begrudgingly, and I released his shoulder, the gesture accompanied by a twinge of pain that he couldn't hide. Casting a pointed command toward the assembled witnesses, he barked, "Back inside, all of you! Some of you, escort these students to the nurse's office! Those who do will get extra credit. We will resume the class." With measured steps, I exited the room, the weight of the confrontation still hanging heavily on my shoulders. As I walked away, I made a decision to divert my attention, seeking solace in the mundane act of procuring food from a vending machine.
Walking down the lit hallway, the soft glow of the overhead lights cast a series of elongated shadows across the tiled floor. Each step seemed to echo with the weight of introspection as I grappled with the consequences of wielding these high stats. A million thoughts raced through my mind like wildfire - had I crossed the threshold into madness by embracing this extraordinary ability to the point of crippling others? The faces of those I had confronted, their intentions dark and intentions sinister, flashed before me, igniting a tempest of doubt. The question hung heavy: had I allowed my emotions to veer into a realm of ruthlessness?
"No, no, no," I whispered under my breath, as if my denial could quell the storm inside. But amidst the turmoil, the gnawing solitude gnashed at my heart, a feeling as familiar as it was haunting. The recollection of camaraderie was elusive, a stark contrast to the warmth of Aroha's. Aroha, with her unwavering support and understanding, was a beacon of light in my desolate existence. Yet, even with her radiance, a void persisted, a void that yearned for a connection that transcended even her boundless empathy. My thoughts swirled like leaves caught in a tempest as I pondered the limits of my relationship with her.
I hesitated, considering the repercussions of my self-imposed isolation from my peers. The decision to distance myself from the class seemed, in hindsight, a rash move, an unintended consequence of my pursuit of righteousness. Regret's tendrils snaked their way into my thoughts, questioning if my pursuit of justice had come at too steep a price.
Turning a corner, my path led me toward the vending machine, its luminous display offering a stark contrast to the messy surroundings. An internal debate raged on - did the pursuit of knowledge in a traditional school setting still hold its relevance? As an individual gifted with the power to reshape the world, did the confines of academia still hold sway? Could the power to alter a law of physics be undermined with the mundane rigors of education?
The decision hung in the balance, a pendulum swaying between the urgency to seize the present and the possibility of deferring my mission to a later time. Did God align with my fervor to eradicate injustice swiftly, or were the threads of fate more complex, urging me to bide my time and cultivate my capabilities?
And then, a revelation dawned like a lightning strike - an epiphany surged forth, recollections of the morning's peculiar attention from my peers. Could it be connected to the newfound skill I had acquired during the second quest? The realization sliced through my ruminations like a blade, exposing the delicate interplay of genuine concern and potential exploitation. The knowledge that compassion could wield a double-edged sword cut deep, underscoring the intricacies of human motivations.
Exhausted by the mental whirlwind, I sought solace on a bench adjacent to the vending machine. With a sigh, I unzipped my bookbag, the gentle rustling of its contents a soothing rhythm. Extracting the book, I opened its pages to reveal the sanctuary of words and stories that had always been a constant companion in times of uncertainty.
The weight of the moment persisted, yet now infused with layers of contemplation. As my fingers traced the lines of text, I found refuge in the familiarity of numbers and stats. The act of checking my own stats became a tether to reality, a grounding force in a world where justice and crime coexisted in a delicate dance.
Book Level: 2
Name: Oren Hashigana
Health: 1200
Strength: 9
Speed: 9
Defense: 5%
Soul: 60
Skills:
Lvl. 1 Strength Booster - Increase your strength by 150% for three seconds. 20 soul to use, one minute cooldown.
Lvl. 1 Speed Booster - Increase your speed by 150% for three seconds. 20 soul to use, one minute cooldown.
Lvl. 1 People Person (Passive) - People naturally care about you more.
Lvl. ??? Infinite Growth Limit (Passive) - No growth limit.
Points: 800
Shop:
Stats: 97p
Lvl. 1 Stealing Skills - 10% chance of stealing one skill from an opponent you defeat. 0 soul to use, one day cooldown. 1250p
Lvl. 1 Triple Strike - Attack three times in succession with enhanced speed and strength. 10 soul to use, thirty second cooldown. 400p
Lvl. 1 Critical Hit (Passive) - Every hit you land on an opponent has a 0.003% chance of increasing the potency of the attack by an insane amount. 0 soul to use, one hour cooldown after proc. 450p
Lvl. 1 Sledgehammer - Attack in a downward motion in succession with enhanced strength. 20 soul to use, one minute cooldown. 200p
Lvl. 1 Cross-Arm Guard - Cross your arms when guarding and mitigate an extra 10% of damage. 1 soul to use, one second cooldown. 200p
Lvl. 1 Rage - Sacrifice your free will and attack anything in your sight for the next minute. In return, your speed is increased by 200%. 50 soul to use, one day cooldown. 1550p
Upgrade Book: 10000p
That's surely it! I thought the skill was good, but I don't even want it! Caring about someone does not always mean you care about them in a positive way! Frustration courses through me, evident in the way my brows furrow and my lips press into a thin line. Can I get rid of it? "Yes, you can, through skill selling," comes an unexpected response. The voice that utters these words holds a robotic quality. What? Was that the system speaking? I had been aware of its occasional quirky tips, but I never fathomed it possessing a semblance of consciousness.
"I have a bit of a personality. I can answer questions when you need them answered for ten points each on the second upgrade. The first three are free," the voice clarifies, its tone maintaining that odd, mechanical cadence. A sense of realization dawns upon me, mingling with annoyance. Twenty points could have already slipped through my fingers? Curse this stupid book for not being upfront about its abilities.
My determination persists, undeterred by the system's quirks. "I want to sell my People Person skill. How many points will it give me?" I inquire once more, my fingers cracking as I flex them in anticipation. "It should give two hundred points. Are you sure?" the voice counters, demanding confirmation. I square my shoulders, my resolve unwavering, and assert, "Yes. This skill forcefully makes others care about me more. I don't want the unneeded attention, and I don't want to impede their free will."
"Done," the voice announces, a tone of finality in its words. "I will go away now." Skepticism creeps in as I mull over this abrupt agreement. It strikes me as suspicious, how it would simply cease its constant observation. Then again, even God supposedly watches over us all the time, so maybe this is just another form of that.
I shift my gaze back to the book, the interface still looming. As the skill I no longer desire dissolves from its pages, the text blurs and ripples. A surge of gratification washes over me; now, I've garnered more points, a sum totaling one thousand. Alright, time to buy some new skills and stats!
Book Level: 2
Name: Oren Hashigana
Health: 1300 (+100 Max)
Strength: 11 (+2)
Speed: 11 (+2)
Defense: 5%
Soul: 60 (+10 Max)
Skills:
Lvl. 1 Strength Booster - Increase your strength by 150% for three seconds. 20 soul to use, one minute cooldown.
Lvl. 1 Speed Booster - Increase your speed by 150% for three seconds. 20 soul to use, one minute cooldown.
(+) Lvl. 1 Triple Strike - Attack three times in succession with enhanced speed and strength. 10 soul to use, thirty second cooldown.
Lvl. ??? Infinite Growth Limit (Passive) - No growth limit.
Points: 18
Shop:
Stats: 97p
Lvl. 1 Stealing Skills - 10% chance of stealing one skill from an opponent you defeat. 0 soul to use, one day cooldown. 1250p
Lvl. 1 Critical Hit (Passive) - Every hit you land on an opponent has a 0.003% chance of increasing the potency of the attack by an insane amount. 0 soul to use, one hour cooldown after proc. 450p
Lvl. 1 Sledgehammer - Attack in a downward motion in succession with enhanced strength. 20 soul to use, one minute cooldown. 200p
Lvl. 1 Cross-Arm Guard - Cross your arms when guarding and mitigate an extra 10% of damage. 1 soul to use, one second cooldown. 200p
Lvl. 1 Rage - Sacrifice your free will and attack anything in your sight for the next minute. In return, your speed is increased by 200%. 50 soul to use, one day cooldown. 1550p
Upgrade Book: 10000p
Once again, I experience the familiar sensation of pain in my muscles. It feels less intense, indicating that my body might be adapting to these changes more smoothly than before. As I rise from my seat, I'm compelled to approach the vending machine, hungry. Inserting a few dollars into the machine, I remember that stats follow a logarithmic growth pattern rather than an exponential one.
Observing my current state, I speculate that my strength has increased by roughly a fifth, a realization that prompts me to marvel at the incredible potential for those individuals who possess even higher stats. How do they manage to remain in control of their amplified powers? The idea of having such immense abilities raises questions about the delicate balance between power and restraint.
With a sense of both excitement and caution, I ponder the complex ramifications of this new reality. I find myself grappling with a surge of raw energy coursing through me, like a river eager to overflow its banks. It's an intriguing sensation—one that draws my mind to the surge in crime rates that have been reported recently. Could these changes be linked to the unchecked desires of those who now possess extraordinary capabilities?
Taking a moment to satisfy my hunger, I select a package of oatmeal cookies from the vending machine. The simple act of indulging in a snack serves as a grounding experience amidst the whirlwind of thoughts and emotions that are accompanying these tough times. As I sit down and savor the cookies, I reflect on the fundamental human inclination to wield power and influence. The allure of using one's innate gifts, no matter how noble their intentions might be, resonates deeply within us all.
A few hours had slipped by in a haze, the glow of my phone's screen casting a soft blue hue on my surroundings as I idly scrolled through YouTube videos. The dull ache of boredom was starting to gnaw at me. It's all I could do. The persistent feeling that made the prospect of returning to the classroom seem like a terrible mistake. With a resigned sigh, I tapped the home button on my phone's screen. Glancing at the digital clock in the corner, I noted that it was now twelve twenty, a signal that lunchtime would grace us in just a few minutes.
Leaning back in my seat, I let my eyes wander, observing the slow trickle of students emerging from the classroom doors. Their gazes were still pointedly averted from me, and I could only imagine the whispers that had circulated about the fight from earlier. As the hallway buzzed with hushed conversations, a sudden exclamation caught my attention, a voice ringing out like an alarm through the corridor, "Oh my God! Is that them?! The... Criminal Alliance?! Down here?!"
Startled, I sprang to my feet, my pulse quickening. I rushed to the window, my heart racing as I peered outside. My eyes widened at the sight that met me: five figures sauntering towards the school, an eerie procession led by a confident figure who exuded an air of danger. He took a leisurely drag from his cigarette before finally casting his gaze upward, his eyes locking onto mine. In a surreal moment, he extinguished his cigarette with deliberate precision and beckoned me forth with a curl of his finger.
A rush of thoughts flooded my mind. Had they somehow stumbled upon the video of the fight? Did they seek to recruit me into their ranks? The sensation of being the center of attention intensified as I felt the collective weight of the students' stares, their accusatory glances drilling into me. Were these newcomers just ordinary troublemakers, or were they indeed the dreaded "Criminal Alliance"?
Straining my eyes, I focused on the insignia adorning their clothing, a distinct symbol etched over their left pectorals – a sinister emblem I recognized all too well. The red and white horn, an emblem synonymous with terrorism, the very image that had flashed across countless news reports. Those who bore that emblem were branded as terrorists without question.
Suddenly, Aroha, whose concern for my safety outweighed her fear, dashed towards me, her voice carrying urgency, "Don't go out there! It has to be a trap! Call the police!"
A surge of strength surges in my body, my muscles hardening against the fear that threatened to grip me. With a sense of finality, I replied, my voice oddly calm, "Nah, it's fine." Setting my sights on the back wall, I gauged the distance and made a quick decision. Without further hesitation, I propelled myself through the window, the shattering of glass creating a symphony of chaos. The fall was swift, a few stories' drop that culminated in a jarring impact as I hit the ground, a cacophony of noise echoing through the air.
As if on cue, the leader of this enigmatic group spoke, his tone a mixture of amusement and curiosity. "Ohoho, Oren, right? How about you join us and fight all you want! Just like in that video! You can do anything!"
Gathering my wits and summoning a courage I didn't know I possessed, I moved towards him, closing the distance until I stood mere inches away. With a steady gaze, I responded, my voice laced with hidden disgust, "Yes, sir!"
Soul: 60 (-10)
Skills:
Lvl. 1 Triple Strike - Attack three times in succession with enhanced speed and strength. 10 soul to use, thirty second cooldown. (Activated) The thirty second cooldown has commenced.
With swift and calculated movements, I unleash a series of three forceful punches, each landing on separate locations of his jaw. The sickening crunch of bone reverberates through the air as his jaw gives way, leaving deep indentations as he crumples to the ground, his evil extinguished in an instant.
The intensity of the situation heightens as the other soldiers react with a mixture of shock and rage. The tension in the air thickens as they swiftly reach for an array of weapons – bats glinting ominously, knives catching the sunlight, and a sense of impending danger emanating from their determined expressions.
Undeterred and fueled by a surge of adrenaline, I turn to face the remaining adversaries, my gaze unwavering. The dust settles around us, creating an eerie tableau of confrontation amidst the stillness of the school. With a mixture of audacity and a dark sense of humor, I deliver my taunting line, the words dripping with a chilling nonchalance that sends worry into their conscious, "Does that 'anything' include killing you all?"
Quest 3: Workers
Workers from the Criminal Alliance have seen your video and want
to recruit you! Deny them and destroy them!
Requirements:
Knock all workers out.
Recommendations:
Kill them all.
Rewards:
2000 points (500 extra if recommendations completed)