With a better state of mind, Lucas enjoyed what he could of his last moments in Ushuaia. If not for compelling reasons, settling down with what he found would have been an option with enticing prospects. Now, here he was, in Tokyo, in the country of mangas and animes, ready to wait for some time and prepare before diving into the next make or die or, to better quote it, the swim or drown.
'A plot armor would be good.'
Turning from the night scenery, Lucas went to the part of the loft with gym equipment in a relaxed and good mood, not knowing that maybe, just around the corner, the nemesis of that mood might be getting ready for him.
"The best way to understand something is to put it to use."
He wanted to know what more he could do gaining weight and for that, he started with checking the previous gains from the Sahara. He tried running on the treadmill, and compared to previously, he found himself slow.
Don't get him wrong. He was still faster than the average athlete and his balance was still there, even better than before due to his new build. He just felt the potential in there, but his body was too cumbersome to unearth it and put it to use. It was a really uncomfortable feeling.
After that test, he went to bench press weight and in doing so, he really got a tangible expression of how he was unshackling his human body, going beyond limits. He didn't bench press one ton, but he broke the world record and not just by a measly one hundred kilograms.
He tried squats, powerlifting, weightlifting and other exercises only to confirm that the improvement was comprehensive. Satisfied, he went to try the punching bag, an action which result brought a scowl to his face.
For all his strength, he was still feeling the same frustration he felt while running. He had it in him, but the output gave him the impulse to vomit. It was like having Thor hammer which blow could and should be heard all over the world but giving the same result as a carpenter hammer. You could imagine the discomfort.
He could K.O. a pro boxer of the same weight, but he should have been able to free the latter of the weight of his head instead.
He went to a humanoid dummy and while the coordination he used to dismantle that terrorist in the desert was still there, he was unable to perform at the same level.
'I hope the next baptism will give me the same thing I hypothesized. If not I will definitely vomit blood like those Chinese MCs.'
Coming to the last test of the day, he stood before pieces of wood, bricks, and metal sheets and plates.
He went through them, punch from the woods, to the bricks then to the metals. Unsatisfied, he went to his backpack that was on the couch and took out his knife, a beautiful piece of discreet murder weapon.
'As I was suspecting, after agility with my bones, I got defense with my skin. The strength should be the prelude or preparation for a coming change. I just want to know, how far does my defense go?'
He started applying different levels of pressure and, as he saw the depression on his skin, he was happy that it didn't take the absolutely rigid route. He kept putting in more of his new strength till, suddenly, the combat knife snapped, with the detached half of the blade going upward like a bullet to look for a new home.
Thankfully, his reaction speed that was not neglected by any of the previous baptism helped him save his eye which he doubted was bullet proof.
Looking at his broken knife, he got the stupid idea of shooting himself with his handgun before shaking his head. He emptied his unfinished glass of the whiskey he didn't bother to remember the name of and went to the bedroom. As he frowned at the uncomfortable feeling of a machine lacking in oil, he promised himself to hurry the preparations for the cushion hinted at by the old man.
"Speaking of that old swindler, I don't know where he is but I have a feeling that I won't like what he wants from me.'
Lucas let himself fall on the bed and looked at the ceiling. He thought about his family, if they were doing okay, if things went as he planned, if his mother was now happier, if his father managed to get himself back on his feet.
He thought about Christina, remembering their night once again, the time they spent together, the comfort and joy, hoping that she was well and with less troubles with her family.
He thought about...
*********
A few days later, Lucas arrived at the bay of Tokyo. And he was not alone. Beside him was Helen or Estrella wearing dark fashion glasses and a cap to make herself less recognizable.
When he returned to the hotel from Christina's that day in Ushuaia, they talked about their respective plans going forward.
At that time, under the illumination of the afternoon sun rays, they faced each other.
"What do you plan to do now?" Lucas asked.
"I don't know. I have no attachment now, nor any obligation or dream."
"What about revenge?"
She looked in his eyes, probably to see if there was any suspicion there.
"I don't remember what happened so I don't know who to take revenge against."
"You know, you could try to find who you were. It would help you decide on a path."
She shook her head: "Like you said previously, I can create a new life free of burdens. I just don't know what goal to pursue."
Lucas thought for a moment. When he took her with him to save her through the baptism, it was quite reckless of him. His fleeting emotions plus a state of mind a little unbalanced made him hot-headed which was rare. Now he must take responsibility.
After a deep breath: " Alright, here is the thing. The way I used to save you, that I call a baptism, changed you. I don't know if there are or will be side effects."
Estrella frowned.
"You didn't tell me previously."
*Sigh*"I didn't think about it at the moment and later I didn't have the opportunity to tell you."
"But you had the opportunity to look for sexual relief."
*Cough* *Cough*
Lucas choked on his spit.
So the result of their talk caused what was happening then: Lucas having a possible companion for his journey.