Julien fell to his knees, his forehead slamming against the cold floor.
He clutched his right wrist with his left hand, gasping for air.
The pain started at his fingertips, a burning, throbbing heat that raced up his forearm, bypassing the elbow and slamming into his shoulder.
"Julien!" Chris shouted, dropping his towel and rushing forward.
The big tank slid on the floor, his face pale with worry. "What is it? A curse backlash? Did Ignis hit you with sothing we didn’t see?"
"Food!" Alice declared, hopping off her crate. She floated, drifting over to them with wide, curious eyes.
"He is evolving. Or dying. If he dies, I get the top bed."
"Not helping, Alice!" Chris snapped.
He reached out to grab Julien’s shoulder, but the air around Julien suddenly vibrated, pushing Chris’s hand away with a static shock.
"Don’t... touch it," Julien gritted out, his teeth clenched so hard he thought they might crack.
He looked at his hand.
For days, ever since he had fired that ridiculous, high-calibre Mana-Pistol in the apartnt, his arm had been a wreck.
It was pale, useless, and bruised with deep spots where the magical recoil had ruptured the capillaries. He had been wearing the compression brace just to hold it together.
But now, under the dim light of the basent bulb, the bruises were moving.
They were slowly disappearing.
The sickly pale skin flushed with colour, turning a healthy, vibrant pink.
The veins, which had been pulsing and grey, settled back under the skin. The muscles in his forearm rippled, visibly expanding and contracting as if they were being knit back together by invisible needles.
Crackle.
A sound like knuckles cracking echoed in the silent basent.
Julien gasped, his back arching, and then... the pain vanished.
It simply stopped. One second, he felt like his arm was in a at grinder, but after the pain passed, it was as good as new.
Julien slumped forward, panting heavily. Sweat dripped from his nose, pooling on the floor.
"Julien?" Chris whispered, hovering his hand over Julien’s back, afraid to make contact.
"You okay, boss?"
Julien took a deep breath.
He flexed his right hand, rotating it, and made a fist.
The movent was crisp, where he felt the tendons snap into place with a satisfying tightness.
He opened his hand, wiggling his fingers. Everything was back to how it was.
"I’m..." Julien sat up, staring at his palm. "I’m fine."
"Fine?" Chris looked at him like he was crazy. "You were screaming two seconds ago. Your arm looked like a half-baked egg."
"The debt," Julien murmured, a realisation hitting him.
"The System ntioned a penalty for using the weapon with low stats. A physical tax."
He stood up, half-expecting his legs to wobble, to feel the exhaustion of the training session they had just finished.
But he stood up effortlessly. In fact, he felt... even more active. The exhaustion that had been plaguing him for the last hour was gone, replaced by a level of energy that buzzed under his skin.
"Since I repaid the debt," Julien said, looking at Chris, "the interest has been returned."
"You’re speaking in riddles, rchant," Alice noted, poking his arm with a pale finger. "Is the at tough or tender?"
"It’s cured," Julien grinned. "It took three days, but the recoil damage is fully healed. And I think... I think the System was holding back my recovery to build resistance."
Chris let out a long breath, wiping sweat from his forehead.
"You scared , man. I thought the curse was eating you. If you’re healed, that’s good. That’s great."
Chris cracked his neck, a competitive grin returning to his face. He stepped back, raising his fists.
"Well, if you’re fully healed," Chris said, bouncing on the balls of his feet, "then we don’t have to worry about breaking you. Let’s go again. No holding back this ti."
Julien looked at Chris.
Before, Chris looked like a mountain. An insurmountable wall of muscle and stats.
Now, Julien looked at him and felt... different. He didn’t feel stronger than Chris, not by a long shot. But still...
"Wait," Julien held up a hand. "I can’t train with you, Chris."
Chris’s face filled with confusion. "What? Why? You just said you were healed."
"I am," Julien nodded. "But that’s the problem. I need to see what I’m working with first."
"System," Julien commanded in his mind. "Status Open."
The familiar gold window flickered into existence.
Julien prepared himself to see the usual depressing numbers: Strength 8, Agility 9. The stats of a malnourished worker.
But the numbers that greeted him made his jaw drop.
[STATUS WINDOW]
Na: Julien Rich
Rank: SSS
Class: Dinsional rchant (Unique)
Level: 10
[STATS]
Strength: 42
Agility: 50
Endurance: 45
Intelligence: 80
Mana: 100 / 100
Julien stared. He blinked, rubbed his eyes, and stared again.
"Forty-two?" Julien whispered. "Fifty agility?"
"What is it?" Chris asked, trying to peek at the screen that only Julien could see.
"My stats," Julien said, his voice trembling. "They... exploded. Strength is 42. Agility is 50. Intelligence is 80."
"Whoa," Chris whistled. "50 Agility? That’s pushing D-Rank. Maybe even low C-Rank for a Rogue class. And 80 Intelligence? That’s definitely Mage territory. How did you jump so high?"
"The recoil," Julien theorised, his mind racing. "The System didn’t just break my arm. It rebuilt it. Constant strain, constant healing... it was power-levelling my physique while I was in pain. It’s like wearing weighted clothes for three days and then taking them off."
He looked at his hand again, his eyes filled with excitent.
"Okay," Chris clapped his hands, the sound echoing like a gunshot. "That’s even better! You have the stats now. You can actually dodge. Co on, hit . Let’s see that Strength."
Chris widened his stance, turning his skin into iron with his passive skill.
Julien looked at Chris, then at his own hands.
"No," Julien said firmly.
"Bro, seriously?" Chris groaned. "Why?"
"Because," Julien closed the nu. "Although I have the engine of a race car, I have the driving skills of a guy who failed his learner’s permit three tis. If I try to fight you right now, with these stats... I won’t just hurt myself. I might actually hurt you by accident, or worse, I’ll launch myself into a wall."
He took a step forward and nearly tripped. His leg moved faster than his brain expected.
"See?" Julien pointed at his feet. "My brain is still calibrated for different Agility. My body is moving at Agility 50. I’m lagging in real life."
"So you need calibration," Alice observed. "Like tuning a violin. Or sharpening a cleaver."
"Exactly," Julien nodded. "I need an opponent that doesn’t breathe. Soone I can break without guilt, and who can beat the reflexes into without killing ."
"I won’t kill you!" Chris protested.
"You’re a tank, Chris. Your ’love taps’ break ribs instantly," Julien countered.
"I need sothing else."
He opened the [System Store] and went back to the item he had hesitated on before.
The training dummy.
[Item: Autonomous Training Dummy]
Rank: D (Scalable up to C)
Description: A magical construct made of wood from Elven forests. Enchanted with combat algorithms derived from veteran soldiers.
Price: 100 Credits / 24 Hours.
’Let’s do this.’
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