The way Alex saw things, he was quite fucked at the moment. He’d already spent over an hour working on opening his inventory and, while his soon-to-be torturers hadn’t yet returned, all he had to show for the effort was a couple levels in Meditation.
***
Your skill [Meditation] has advanced to Level Eight.
Your skill [Meditation] has advanced to Level Nine.
***
He was happy with the levels, they both stopped the entire thing from being a complete waste of time, and proved he could still advance skills, but he’d have much rather been closer to freedom. Taking a moment in between attempts, Alex spent a few minutes thinking of alternative escape methods to his inventory, but most were grim, if not borderline suicidal. By the end of his deliberation, Alex saw three paths to success, only one of which involved him leaving this place uninjured: the one he’d been failing at for the last hour.
Option one was to crack his inventory, but with the mana restriction, his mental grasp on the skill was tenuous at best. He’d keep trying, but if the goal was to open it before anyone got back, success was unlikely. His second option would be painful but semi-practical. Meditation had proven he could level passive skills, which meant he could level Pain Resistance. No matter what his stats said, Alex doubted he had the willpower to start breaking his own fingers. He did, however, have a couple buckets of water. All he’d need to do was take a breath, then skill levels. He cringed but didn’t write it off entirely. Survival was paramount, everything else was secondary.
The third option was basically just what would happen if he failed to escape before the men returned. He’d be tortured, and Pain Resistance would level that way. It was more an eventuality at this rate but presenting it as an option made him feel like he had a choice in the matter, and delusion or not, Alex would take any hope he could get at the moment. Thus, why he believed himself screwed, because he was.
He’d keep trying with his inventory no matter what, but circumstances what they were, he couldn’t reason that, self-inflicted drowning was a viable option. He’d spent the first ten minutes after the men left with a residual cough. Alex didn’t know how pneumonia worked with his upgraded body, but he couldn’t risk it. A persistent cough might stop him from being able to concentrate well enough to unlock his inventory, or if he did manage, could hinder him in fights to the point it got him killed. There were too many unknowns and, while part of it was the aversion to pain speaking, Alex reasoned he’d made enough sense to come to a decision for the moment. For now, he’d keep working with his inventory, hopefully it’d be enough.
It was nearly three hours later when Alex took the next break. Meditation had risen by another three levels, making it easier for him to enter and exit the trance like state.
***
Your skill [Meditation] has advanced to Level Ten.
Your skill [Meditation] has advanced to Level Eleven.
Your skill [Meditation] has advanced to Level Twelve.
***
Initially, he hadn’t understood how him trying to open his inventory would aid Meditation, or vice versa, but as it leveled the reasoning became apparent. One of the most basic tenants of meditation was exploration of the self, and that included the body. His attempts to access his inventory were linked to his mana, which had some sort of link to his body. A link that was being restricted by his restraints.
The sensation was still faint, but Alex could tell how the areas where his chains sat were more averse to the energies than other parts of his body. The sensation spread out from there, theoretically leaving the areas furthest from the metal the least restricted. Unfortunately, even after he stopped trying to make the opening appear anywhere near the shackles, Alex still failed to create even the barest opening to the storage. Even so he continued, the pair hadn’t yet returned to follow through on their threats, but the possibility spurred him on, until exhaustion finally claimed him.
Alex awoke hours later to the sound of metal creaking. The light’s brightness had been turned up, and his eyes were taking a few seconds to adjust. He felt an odd level of sensory deprivation without Sixth Sense, but in lieu of the all sensing skill, his ears alerted him to the arriver, the hoofing boots echoing of the cavernous walls.
“Aye, I told you he’d sleep like a wee one. You owe me an extra five gold.” Trevor boasted, his trademark mirth immediately evident.
“Yes, well,” the taller man replied, his tone annoyed, “You can take it off him when we’re done.”
Alex understood Greyson’s irritation with the other man, he was horridly annoying, but focused on the latter half of the statement instead.
“Look, I already told you-” He’d been ready to explain his innocence, telling them how he didn’t have what they wanted, nor knew what they looked like. He’d swear that if they just let him go, he’d be out of the city in a week. Hell, he would have even promised to join their organization and work off whatever money they thought he had. Anything for freedom. Instead, Alex got five words out before a hand grasped his face like a vice, the flat palm pressuring his still broken nose and causing him to let out an involuntary grunt. The pain from his injury had lessened over the course of the night, though he’d still hoped it was donating experience to his resistance skill. Now he was pretty sure it had, the level he gained in Pain Resistance only further confirming it.
***
Your skill [Pain Resistance] has advanced to Level Six.
***
“Shut up. I don’t want to hear you utter a word unless it is to tell me what I want to know. Where are the coins? Where is your bank card? Where did you hide it?” He screamed the last one, and his hand squeezed harder and harder. For Alex’s part, he didn’t even register the words, he could barely stop himself from passing out while being palmed like a basketball.
In the background, Trevor was pulling items from a storage device one by one, their metallic clangs ringing out as he placed them on a table. Alex dropped to the ground as Greyson finally let go of his head, the blood roaring in his ears. Still, he didn’t get a moment’s rest before he was roughly plopped into a stone chair that hadn’t been there when he’d last looked. His chains were removed from their clamps to the wall before being reconnected to the chair, their energy suppression effect remaining the entire time.
Alex looked blankly as Trevor strapped him down, his meager attempts are resistance proving futile. Once his ankles and wrists were locked firmly in place, the short man got to his hands, where he forced them flat to the arm rest and buckled them in. Then it started, Alex having mere seconds to process everything before Trevor picked up a hammer and in one swift motion brought it down on the knuckle of his index finger.
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***
Your skill [Pain Resistance] has advanced to Level Seven.
***
Alex coughed, cried, and cursed, as he looked from the grinning man to his throbbing hand, the swiftness of the attack doing nothing to mute the pain or his scream. Trevor had hit him perfectly, Alex had no doubt the fucking psychopath could’ve removed the finger if he’d wanted to, the man knew exactly how to only break it. Alex wasn’t sure how the skill worked exactly, but Pain Resistance seemed to be doing jack shit at the moment.
A slap to the face snapped him back to the present the surprise catching him more than the stinging of his cheek. Trevor was looking at him, hammer in one hand, and smile on his face. Alex wrestled against the chair for a moment, but it didn’t budge.
“Where are the coins?” Greyson sighed. His voice was back to its unimpressed timbre, and all Alex could think about was ripping his throat out, so he could never speak again.
He tried to escape once more, pulling against the straps in a pointless bid for freedom. Trevor broke another knuckle, this one on his opposite hand, and Alex choked off the scream midway, not wanting to give them the satisfaction.
***
Your skill [Pain Resistance] has advanced to Level Eight.
***
He stopped resisting, not because the fight had left him, but more so since his actions only seemed to succeed in causing further damage to his busted fingers. Tears falling down his face as he failed to his emotions under control, Alex focused on the pain. Greyson was talking again, another question, but he ignored it. The more he focused, the more it hurt, the pain radiating through his body like an all-encompassing ache.
***
Your skill [Pain Resistance] has advanced to Level Nine.
Your skill [Meditation] has advanced to Level Thirteen.
***
Alex let it, the more it hurt, the faster his skill should level. Trevor aimed to help in his cause, the man crushing another knuckle under his hammer after Alex didn’t respond. One of his middle fingers this time. Alex opened his eyes and stared, not defiantly, rather, he kept his face as placid as he could while his mind screamed. Ignoring that he wouldn’t be able to hold a sword even if he did manage to open his inventory, Alex took deep breaths, the action made hard by the pain that now seemed to course through him.
***
Your skill [Pain Resistance] has advanced to Level Ten.
Your skill [Pain Resistance] has advanced to Level Eleven.
Your skill [Pain Resistance] has advanced to Level Twelve.
***
A few minutes later, he finally felt a slight give on the pain that had begun invading his entire body. His fingers still ached, if slightly less than before, whatever had enhanced the sensation fleeing, and the change in leveling speed with it. He had a slight headache, though when compared to the last one he’d had, it was easy to ignore. At some point, he’d closed his eyes and as he opened them now both men were gone. He was still strapped down in the chair and had no doubt the men would be back soon, but powerless as Alex was his only option to wait. Taking the chance, he read over his recent skill changes.
He didn’t know why Meditation had leveled, the Common skill proving there was plenty Alex didn’t know about it. That thought reminding him of an auxiliary benefit of the skill, Alex brought up the description once more to check.
***
Skills
Name: Meditation
Rating: Common
Grade: F
Level: 13
Mode: Passive
Resource Cost: N/A
Description: New world have you stressed? Constant danger making you worried you might lose your life? Well, look no further than meditation! Take a seat, relax your body, and truly become one with your mind. Fade into its recesses and allow the realities of life to fall to the wayside. Still, you might want to make sure you're in a secure location, just because it feels nice and safe in your mind, doesn't mean there lacks danger outside. Grants an active 5% boost to the recovery of all energy pools when in use. Skill ability correlates to Willpower, Wisdom, and Intelligence.
***
That counted health, right? He might not be able to access his mana or stamina, but seeing how he was still alive, the restraints shouldn’t affect his skill usage. Taking another breath, Alex did the opposite of what he had before and tried to ignore the pain, the trance-like state he aimed for initially hard to find, before he finally fell in.
It took less than five minutes for his impatience to win out, distracted thoughts pulling him partway out of the meditative state. If the enhanced healing rate was working, it was so slow the changes couldn’t be tracked by his health value, which meant it was slower than normal. That made a certain level of sense if the decrease was due to his broken joints but didn’t bode well for Alex’s potential escape. At the rate he was running out of options even a small win would have been nice, it seemed he wouldn’t be getting that.
A pulse of pain leaked out from his hand, and Alex turned the parts of his mind that remained aware to other means, as to not break his calm entirely. Whatever had increased his Pain Resistance skill’s leveling speed was of extreme importance. Circumstances what they were, it had fast become one of his most important skills, but if that effect could be replicated beyond the uncommon skill, that would be where the real potential lied.
The pair came back much quicker this time, returning within the hour and cutting Alex off before he made any real progress. Meditation had been his first guess as the skill had also leveled during the process, but when he tried it again nothing happened. Still, as the restraints altered the way his body had come to normally feel over the past few days, Alex did notice a something of a synergy between the two skills. It wasn’t like Acting and Deception had been, nor what Pain Resistance and Fear Resistance felt like they could be, but something different he couldn’t directly place.
Opening his eyes as they approached, Alex did his best to remain impassive. His hand hurt, but the restraints acted like a splint, keeping him from worsening the injury. He doubted the men would be fans of a tough guy act, but Alex wasn't a fan of being in excruciating pain, so they could both lose.
Neither of the men spoke initially, Greyson walking off to one side of the room, while the torturer moved back towards his table of tools. Rather than go for another knuckle, as Alex had been trying not to tense for, he began to sort the items, holding each individual one to the light and inspecting it. He was almost as tall as Alex was sitting, giving the bound man a perfect view of each item. Hammers dull from use, blades still flecked with blood, painfully rusty saws. The last made Alex shiver, and he doubted the men had missed it.
“You know,” Greyson said, much closer than Alex had last seen him. The man having snuck up while he was distracted. “Unlike Trevor over there, I don’t actually enjoy torture. It’s not necessarily that I don’t have the stomach for it. I just feel people don’t truly understand the point of torture until the end. It might be a test of endurance for you, but for us it’s a full-on race. So my friend and I have come to a consensus. You will tell us where you hid the coins, your bank card, and all your banking information; or we will break every bone in your body. Not slowly, but as fast as possible.”
That last bit made Alex’s breath hitch, but the arrogant man didn’t give him a second to mull it over, his words as much a rush as the torture they planned.
“But don’t worry, we’ll leave your mouth intact, so when you’re crying on the floor pissing and shitting yourself,” and he spat the words, “you can still tell us. However, let it be known, I’m an advocate for freedom of choice. If you manage to get through the entire day, we’ll heal you up to new. You see we had to go get someone else just because of your stubbornness, picked them up right off the street. Poor thing was near hysterical. So Huntsman, I implore you once more to tell me, because if you don’t, at a level of which you’ve never imagined: you will know pain.”
Alex swallowed, staying silent while he mentally came to terms with the state of his near future. Truly, if spilling wouldn’t all but assure his death, Alex would have. Simple lines of thought told him these were just the consequences of his own actions, and there was no one else to be upset with, but himself. He told himself that was wrong, sure everything he’d done hadn’t been “optimal” but it was all in the pursuit of one goal, survival. Alex would not break because he could not afford to. He’d escape, and make sure to pay the two men in front of him tenfold, but until then he would endure.