'Screw you!'
John felt the bile rise in his throat. He had been tricked, scammed by the very man he called his lucky charm. Nikolas wasn't there to protect him; he was there to squeeze him. The teacher was adamant about seeing John's hidden power, even if it meant letting Ricky shred him to pieces.
But as the realisation of his abandonment settled in, John's panic began to solidify into a cold, hard resolve. 'If there's no way out using words, then there's only one way using force.'
He performed a rapid mental check of his arsenal. The Wireframe Sight was off the table; it was a scout's tool, useless in the high-speed, close-quarters combats. That left him with only two active abilities. He had never tested them in a fight before, and he was intensely curious to see if his absorption ability could counter Ricky's suction.
'First things first, I need to keep my distance,' John calmly thought. Ricky was constantly shifting the filaments and their codes, their movements erratic and without a fixed pattern.
They lashed out like whips, seeking any opening in John's guard. However, Ricky had one glaring weakness that John could exploit: his speed. While the filaments were fast, Ricky's actual body was sluggish compared to John's higher speed stat.
"There is no way out for you this time," Ricky said, a vicious smile splitting his face as he realised the teacher wasn't going to interfere. He began to stalk forward, the five white filaments twisting around him like a halo of snakes. "Let me send you to the infirmary to join your beloved buddy. Luke is waiting for you in the next bed, loser!"
"We'll see who the real loser is," John bellowed back.
As those words left his lips, the last traces of John's hesitation evaporated. The worry, the fear, and the caution were incinerated by a sudden, white-hot surge of rage. The look in his eyes changed, shifting from the panicked gaze of a cornered animal to the cold, focused stare of a hunter.
From the sidelines, Nikolas heaved an inner sigh of relief. 'Show me your mettle, boy,' the teacher thought, his pulse quickening. 'I knew my eyes hadn't picked a failure, much less a loser. You can try to mask yourself as a cute kitty all you want, but the sons of lions can never be house pets, no matter how hard they try.'
Nikolas was so gripped by the potential of the next few minutes that he stood on the tips of his toes, reaching into his pocket to retrieve a small, black recording cube. He wasn't going to miss a single frame of this.
John moved. He didn't attack blindly; he began with a probing attack. He needed to know the limits of Ricky's Suction Force. Was it a passive ability that covered his entire body, or was it localised strictly to those five glowing, specialised codes?
He surged forward, feinting a high strike to draw the filaments away, then pivoted and delivered a lightning-fast jab to Ricky's shoulder.
Thud!
"That hurts like a girl's punch, ouch!" Ricky laughed, mocking the lack of power behind the strike, while feigning getting hurt in an acting way!
John didn't care about the insult. He had withheld the strength behind the punch intentionally, ready to withdraw the moment he sensed a drain. He watched the air in front of him with bated breath. No warning… No stat loss… No lost Mental Points. The revelation was like a shot of adrenaline.
-
[Ding! Your overall reward assessment has been elevated!]
-
John let out a short, sharp chuckle. It felt quite refreshing how the system added extra rewards when he gained more insights about Ricky's fighting style.
"What are you laughing at, loser?" Ricky growled. He took John's sudden smile as a personal affront, his filaments lashing out with renewed fury. "Let me see you keep smiling when I'm done with you!"
Ricky lunged, swinging a heavy fist while two of the filaments snaked around from the side to trap John's exit path.
Bang!
This time, Ricky's insults were cut short by a sound that echoed through the sparring hall like a bolt of lightning.
John's fist connected with Ricky's chest with a force that forced Ricky's body back several steps, his heels skidding across the reinforced floor. John didn't press the advantage immediately; instead, he bounced lightly from one leg to another, his movements rhythmic and cocky, as if he were finally starting to enjoy the dance.
"What were you saying?" John mocked, a sharp, cold edge to his voice. He raised a hand, curling his fingers in a slow, deliberate 'come-hither' gesture. "Speak up, little Ricky! Hit like a man, or you are all bark, no bite?"
"I'm going to kill you!" Ricky's face contorted, his skin swelling and turning a deep, angry crimson. The humiliation was a poison in his veins.
With a guttural roar, he lunged at John, his five filaments lashing out like a nest of disturbed vipers. He wanted to shred John, to drain him until he was nothing but an empty husk on the floor. But against all his desperate expectations, John was gone before the filaments could even land a single hit.
Every time Ricky swung, every time he tried to ensnare his foe, John was half a beat ahead. He moved with a predictive grace, evading the lethal white strands at the exact moment necessary to leave Ricky swinging at shadows.
And every time Ricky missed, a counter-blow arrived.
Thud Crack Thud
John hammered into Ricky's ribs, his shoulders, and his gut. Yet, even as he landed a barrage of clean hits, John's internal alarm began to chime.
'Something is wrong,' he thought, his knuckles beginning to ache. 'Every time I land a punch, it feels like I'm striking a reinforced cement wall with my bare hands. Dammit, Ricky, your defence stats must be significantly higher than my current strength stat.'
He knew he was winning the battle of momentum; he was breaking Ricky's rhythm and making him look like a fool, but he wasn't delivering any real, lasting damage. If he couldn't find a way to break through that defence, Ricky would eventually catch a lucky break. One touch of those filaments would reset the entire fight in the bully's favour.
'Time to test the new toy, then... MP Absorption Ability... It's time for you to shine, baby!'
John didn't feel a physical change. According to the ability's description, he needed sustained physical contact to maximise the drain. Punches were too fast; he needed to hold on to Ricky's body for a bit longer than flashy hits.
This time, when Ricky swung a heavy right hook, John didn't just dodge. He stepped inside the guard, his hands snaking out to grab Ricky's collar and belt. He felt the filaments whip past his ears, centimetres from his skin. With a grunt of effort, he didn't just push; he gripped tight for a full second before slamming Ricky away with a powerful heave.
It was a risk, exposing his back to the white whips, but as Ricky tumbled backwards like a useless bag of laundry, John instantly jumped away, retreating from any potential touch with the filaments.
-
[Ding! You have successfully absorbed 2 Mental Points!]
-
'That's what I'm talking about!' John suppressed the urge to laugh out loud. He began to move with a renewed vigour, adopting a fluid, grappling-based fighting style. Ricky scrambled to his feet, fuming with a rage so intense his eyes seemed to glow with a dangerous light.
"I swear, this will be your last day in this academy!" Ricky's voice was a rasp of pure hatred.
John didn't even flinch. If anything, the threat only widened the mocking smile on his face. He motioned with one hand, a casual, insulting invitation. "Come to papa, Ricky."
The fire in Ricky's eyes flared even brighter as he charged again, but the result was a repetitive cycle of failure. No matter how Ricky twisted his filaments or varied his strikes, John was always a step ahead. And for every failed strike Ricky threw, John returned the favour with a slap to the cheek, a sharp pinch to the neck, or a lingering grab to the arm.
The notifications of his success in absorbing more Mental Points began to stack up like a jackpot at a casino.
'Hehehe! I should have tried this from the very beginning!' John's heart was practically dancing. Seeing the long rows of gained points made him realise he had found the ultimate equilibrium. At this moment, he didn't fear Ricky's filaments. He didn't even fear Cissel's unique vampiric drain.
He finally had the perfect counter, an ability that allowed him to sustain himself indefinitely by stealing the very fuel he needed to fight his enemies. He wasn't just fighting one opponent; he felt as though he could take on the entire class.
After five minutes of toy-like play, John decided it was time to shift gears. He had reaped enough Mental Points to know he filled his entire cap, and the repetition was starting to lose its lustre in his eyes. He wanted to see how deep the rabbit hole went, how far his ability could take him in an intense fight.
"This won't do," John suddenly said, his voice loud enough for the entire class to hear. He stepped back, giving the panting, exhausted Ricky some space. "You're starting to bore me, little Ricky. Why don't we add something extra? Something a bit more... Juicy... To our little match?"
He didn't look at the teacher. He didn't look at the crowd. His eyes moved across the class, locking onto a single target: Cissel.
She was standing at the edge of the circle, her arms crossed, watching the fight with a cold, penetrating gaze. When John's eyes landed on her, she slowly raised one eyebrow, her expression shifting into one of sharp curiosity.
The provocation was clear, and the entire room held its breath as they realised John wasn't just looking for a win, he was looking for the impossible.