Tommy's body felt like it was recovering, but the lingering effects of the rank C mana potion he took still gnawed at him. His muscles were sore, his organs sluggish, but there was something else—something more profound—that left him restless. Mana had become both his curse and his salvation, and now, after the harrowing experiences in the Chitterbeasts nest, Tommy knew there was no going back.
He wasn't just an ordinary adventurer anymore. He was different. Dangerous. But he had no system to guide him, no way of knowing his limits– he had no limits. His instincts told him he was on the edge of something big, something powerful, but how much longer could he keep pushing his body before it broke down? One mistake and his life would be the price.
Just as he was lost in his thoughts, there was a knock at his door. Tommy's heart skipped a beat. He wasn't expecting anyone—especially not after what had happened earlier with Patrick.
He opened the door to see Patrick standing there, arms crossed, a look of quiet concern on his face. Patrick had been watching over him since the mana overload, but Tommy knew the older adventurer wasn't here just to check on his health.
"You look like shit" Patrick said, his voice softer than usual, but still with that familiar edge.
Tommy managed a small smile. "Yeah, I feel like I've been run over by a truck. No a train"
Patrick stepped inside without waiting for an invitation, glancing around the small apartment. It was the same as always—cluttered with empty potion vials, training gear, and half-finished meals. The silence between them stretched on, but Patrick was the one to break it.
"I heard you moved forward to the Chitterbeast nest" Patrick said, his gaze flicking to Tommy. "You handled yourself better than I thought you would. But I'm not sure you fully understand what you're dealing with. Mana"
Tommy nodded slowly, the weight of Patrick's words sinking in. "You're right. I don't understand. I didn't expect this—" He gestured to his own body, his pulse racing. "The mana, this power—it's like I can feel it everywhere, all the time now. But it's also... Risky"
Patrick studied him with a calculating look. "That's exactly it. You don't have a system to regulate it. Most adventurers are regulated by their systems, but you—" he pointed at Tommy, "—you don't have that safeguard. And if you keep going this way, you're going to risk losing your life"
Tommy felt his chest tighten. He knew Patrick was right. He was pushing himself too hard, drinking mana potions like they were water, and absorbing mana without thinking about the consequences. But the hunger for strength... the desire to finally become something had driven him past the point of caution.
Patrick's voice softened as he continued. "You're not an ordinary adventurer, Tommy. I've been around you long enough to recognize it. It feels like you're a level 30 adventurer right now, and that's no joke. The mana pressure is there."
Tommy blinked, his heart racing at the thought. "Level 30? Me? But... I don't even have a system. Is that even possible?"
Patrick smirked, shaking his head slightly. "I don't know. But something about your mana—it's different. but don't think you're equal to a level 30 Adventurer though! You just went into overload thats why it feels like that."
"By the way, I'm going on a medium level dungeon, or as players would say a Fortitude 40 Dungeon. That's what I initially came to tell you then I saw you attempting to kill yourself" Patrick explained
Tommy stood up, a spark of determination lighting his eyes. "I want to come with you. I want to be part of the raid."
Patrick looked at him with a mixture of surprise and caution. "You're serious about this? You know it's going to be dangerous, right? It's fortitude is almost twenty times a tutorial dungeon."
Tommy nodded firmly. "I'm not afraid anymore. I want to fight. I need to fight. I want to prove to everyone that I'm strong enough."
Patrick studied him for a long moment, then sighed, clearly conflicted. Finally, he spoke. "Alright. Fine. You can come with me. But..."
Tommy raised an eyebrow. "But what?"
Patrick's expression was dead serious. "You have to get a better gear. You can't go into the dungeon with that cheap stuff you're using now. You'll get yourself mocked by the other adventurers and eventually killed. If you're serious about this, you need to be properly equipped. Understand?"
Tommy's heart raced with excitement and nervousness, but he nodded. "I'll do it. I'll get the best gear I can find."
Patrick gave him a short, approving nod. "Good. I'll meet you in a few days to discuss the details. Be ready."
As Patrick left, Tommy felt a mixture of exhilaration and dread. He was about to embark on a raid that could be the beginning of something great—or the end of everything. But he wasn't going to back down. He had made up his mind. This was his chance to prove himself.
--
With the promise of a new challenge ahead, Tommy immediately set to work. He knew that if he was going to be part of Patrick's raid, he needed to be at his best. But first, he had to deal with the power that had become both his weapon and his curse.
For the next few days, Tommy focused on his mana control. He trained relentlessly in the yard behind his apartment, testing the limits of his body and his mana in ways he never had before. His goal was clear: control. If he could master the energy surging through him, he would be unstoppable.
Tommy began by using his mana to enhance his physical abilities like he did previously in the Parasite dungeon and the Chitterbeasts nest. He concentrated deeply, channeling the mana through his muscles, letting the power flow like water through a dam. At first, the results were minor. His speed improved, his strength grew, but the effects were fleeting. He could only maintain the enhanced state for a few minutes before his body started to buckle under the strain.
But that didn't discourage him. He practiced every day before the day of the raid, pushing himself further than before, working on expanding his stamina and improving his endurance. He learned to focus the mana more precisely, strengthening his body for longer periods.
By the end of the first week, Tommy could use mana to enhance his strength for an hour and a half before succumbing to fatigue because no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't go farther than that. He had reached a dead end. It wasn't perfect, but it was a massive improvement. His body felt stronger, tougher, and he could feel the energy coursing through him as though it were a part of him.
His mana blasts also improved significantly. He could now shoot up to fifteen mana blasts before his mana started to run dry. They weren't just more powerful; they were more controlled. Each shot felt more deliberate, more precise, as though he was truly commanding the energy to do his will.
But the improvement wasn't without its cost. The more he pushed his body and his mana, the more Tommy felt the strain. His muscles ached constantly, and every time he used mana to enhance his strength, the pain would follow after thirty minutes. But he welcomed the discomfort. It was a reminder that he was moving forward.
Despite the pain, Tommy kept at it. Training was his only option. There were no shortcuts.
One evening, after another grueling training session, Tommy collapsed onto the grass, his body soaked in sweat, his heart racing from the exertion. He felt the mana humming beneath his skin, eager to be used, but Tommy forced himself to stop. He couldn't afford to overdo it.
As he lay there, staring up at the night sky, he thought of Patrick's words. "You're not normal, Tommy. But that's your strength, take it as pride not as shame."
Maybe it was. But Tommy knew that if he wanted to survive the raid ahead, he needed to master this power. He wasn't going to be a burden to anyone—not to Patrick, not to anyone. He would become the warrior he'd always dreamed of being.
And nothing—nothing—was going to stop him.
---