Aldrich stepped into the gym's sparring ring, his nerves buzzing with a mix of excitement and uncertainty. The smell of sweat, leather, and faint traces of disinfectant lingered in the air. The fluorescent lights overhead flickered slightly, casting a harsh glow on the scuffed mat beneath his feet.
Across the ring stood a wiry, middle-aged man with a slightly crooked nose and sharp gray eyes that seemed to size him up. The man adjusted his red gloves, muttering under his breath, "Boxing's a lost art. Good to see young men still trying it out."
Aldrich felt a faint grin tug at his lips. Is this guy serious? He's like a character from one of those fighting games.
The man stepped forward, tossing a pair of worn gloves at Aldrich. He caught them awkwardly, fumbling a bit before slipping them on.
"I'm Steve," the man said, his tone curt but not unfriendly. "And you're…?"
"Aldrich," he replied, tightening the straps on his gloves.
Steve stepped into the ring, rolling his shoulders as he spoke. "Alright, Aldrich. Let's see if you've got the basics. Show me your stance."
Aldrich hesitated, then assumed what he thought was a proper boxing stance—feet apart, hands up, chin slightly tucked.
Steve circled him slowly, scrutinizing every detail. "Not terrible. But you're stiff. Relax your shoulders. Loosen up, or you'll burn out before the first round's done." He walked over and nudged Aldrich's feet into a better position, then tapped his gloves against Aldrich's raised fists.
"Better. Now, we're gonna spar. Three minutes. I'll take it easy on you, so don't worry about getting your head knocked off."
Aldrich nodded, trying to focus. Three minutes. No big deal.
He glanced inward, where the glowing tree of Grasp of the Undying pulsed faintly in his mind. The keystone's description floated clearly in his thoughts: "Every four seconds in combat, your next attack heals you, deals bonus damage, and permanently increases your health. The effect requires combat to be active for at least two seconds and stacks up to four times."
Four seconds. Two seconds between hits. Just land punches and wait for the magic to kick in.
The bell rang.
Steve started with a light jab, testing Aldrich's guard. Aldrich swatted it away and launched a counter—a wide hook that Steve sidestepped effortlessly.
"Telegraphed that one," Steve said, smirking. "Keep it tight."
Aldrich tightened his guard and tried a series of quick jabs. Steve dodged the first two but let the third glance off his gloves. Aldrich braced himself for a reaction from the keystone, waiting for the telltale glow or surge of power.
Nothing.
He pressed forward, throwing a flurry of punches. Steve blocked or dodged most of them, though a few landed lightly on his arms and sides. Still, there was no response from the keystone.
"C'mon, kid, don't just swing like a windmill," Steve said, ducking under a wild right hook and countering with a light jab to Aldrich's ribs.
Aldrich winced, stepping back to recover. His frustration grew with each passing second. Why isn't it working?
Steve shifted gears, throwing a combination—jab, cross, hook. Aldrich managed to block the first two and ducked just in time to avoid the hook. He was surprised at how natural the movements felt, as if his body were responding faster than his mind could process.
"Nice dodge," Steve said, raising an eyebrow. "You've got quick reflexes. Now use them to throw something decent."
Aldrich gritted his teeth, focusing on Steve's movements. He tried to predict the next punch, stepping in with a straight jab aimed at Steve's torso. It connected lightly, but again, the keystone remained dormant.
By the end of the round, Aldrich was drenched in sweat, his arms trembling from exertion. Steve pulled out his mouthguard and gave him an appraising nod.
"Not bad for a rookie. You've got decent instincts. Keep coming back, and we'll work on that technique."
Aldrich forced a smile, though his mind was elsewhere. Why didn't it activate? Did I misunderstand how it works?
He paid the small fee at the front desk and was about to leave when Steve called out, "Hey, Aldrich. You've got potential. Don't waste it. See you next time."
"Yeah, maybe," Aldrich replied, offering a half-hearted wave as he stepped into the cool night air.
By the time he got home, it was late. The warm glow of the apartment's lights greeted him as he stepped inside. His family was already seated at the table, the aroma of fried fish and garlic rice making his stomach growl.
"You're late," Aileen said, motioning to an empty chair. "Sit down and eat before it gets cold."
"Thanks, Ma," Aldrich said, slipping into his seat.
Elle looked up from her plate, a mischievous grin on her face. "What happened to you, Kuya? You look like you just wrestled a bear."
"Close enough," Aldrich replied, digging into his food.
Ben chuckled. "Still the same weirdo," he said, shaking his head.
"Exactly," Elle added, sticking her tongue out at her brother.
Aileen gave her a stern look. "Enough teasing. Aldrich, when are you going to settle down? Sham's a nice girl. I like her."
Aldrich nearly choked on his rice. "I…uh…I haven't really thought about it."
"You should," Ben said, his tone more serious. "This place is getting cramped. Elle's getting older. She'll need her own space soon."
The room fell quiet, the weight of their living situation hanging heavy in the air.
After dinner, Ben motioned for Aldrich to step outside. On the balcony, the night was quiet except for the hum of distant traffic. Ben lit a cigarette, the orange glow illuminating his tired features.
"You're the eldest," he began, exhaling a plume of smoke. "It's your job to look out for everyone. If something happens to me or your Ma…"
Aldrich leaned on the railing, staring at the street below. "Don't worry, Pa. I'll figure it out."
Ben gave him a small smile, patting his shoulder. "I know you will. Just be careful, alright? There's weird stuff happening out there."
"Weird how?" Aldrich asked, glancing sideways.
"Last week, I saw a rat the size of a Labrador. Damn thing looked at me like it owned the alley."
Aldrich's stomach twisted, the keystone in his mind pulsing faintly as if in response.
Friday evening, Sham caught Aldrich by the elevator. "Hey, lazybones," she teased. "What are you doing this weekend?"
"Nothing," Aldrich replied.
"Great," Sham said, grinning. "We're going hiking. You in?"
Aldrich hesitated, then nodded. "Sure. Sounds fun."
As he packed his bag that night, he couldn't shake the feeling that things were about to change—again.