Jackson only laughed as Miller and Jones held one of Luke's arm each. Davis, a guy even bigger than Jackson, with a shaved head, stood between then and punched Luke in the stomach.

Luke's ire was immediately quenched as he found himself incapable of even breathing.

Jackson patted Davis' shoulder and the big man stepped to the side. Jackson stepped up to stay right in front of Luke and slapped his face hard. "The new girl is giving you ideas, is she? Did she make you believe you could fight back?" Another slap. "Where is she now, huh?" A third slap, this one strong enough to make Luke taste blood. "Kells, Kells, Kells, you should know better than that. I won't even talk to the new girl for now. You make her go away yourself, or everyday will be just like today. And guess what? Today, Davis is very angry at you."

He patted Davis' shoulder again and just started walking away. The huge goon stepped back in front of Luke, and punched him in the face so suddenly that Luke couldn't even turn his face. Yesterday, he had managed to avoid breaking his nose by curling on the ground. Today, he felt it break immediately.

Still breathless from the punch to his stomach and now with blood in his nose, Luke could only open his mouth to try to breathe. That's when Davis shoved his hand deep into Luke's mouth, both blocking it and making Luke gag. Together with his lack of oxygen, he felt pain and despair.

Jackson hadn't lied. Today was even worse than most other days. Today, they really wanted him to suffer.

After what felt like an eternity, Davis took his hand out, and Luke finally managed to breath. His body had other ideas as it tried to throw up, but he managed to swallow the bile back. Davis pushed Luke's hair back hard, spit in Luke's open mouth, then covered his hand.

"Swallow, bitch," Davis said.

Luke was still desperate for air and his nose was completely blocked by blood. To breath, he had to obey. To survive, he did as told.

"Yeah, that's right," Davis said. "I bet deep down you like that, don't you?" He took his hand from Luke's mouth and the boy breathed desperately. Davis than slapped Luke's face, spit on it, and pulled his arm back for a new punch.

And then everything changed.

Resync complete.

The system notification appeared out of the blue, but Luke didn't pay attention to it. Instead, he was overwhelmed with... self-awareness. It was as if he was discovering a part of himself that had always been dormant. As if everything... fit perfectly.

He had had memories of skills even before the resync, but they were just things he knew about. He had had knowledge of martial arts, but they were like something he had watched on TV. He had known the best way to protect himself, but had never acted on it.

Now, though, there was something more.

It was something that had been hidden not on his knowledge, on what he could only believe was his subconscious. Or maybe even his soul. Some experience or muscle memory that wasn't his, yet was his, but had almost disappeared.

His Eternal Phoenix's Heart had taken all his memories and made them truly his.

Suddenly, many of the fighting styles he knew in theory became his, as if he had practiced them before—some of them for so long he didn't even know how to explain. Could someone fight for centuries? Thousand of years? Certainly not, but it felt like it.

One moment, Luke was a random nerd with strange memories in his mind.

The next moment, he was a random nerd who had the experience and muscle memory of an elite fighter way beyond anything that could be found on Earth.

He felt the goons' arms on his and knew exactly how they were holding him without looking. He knew exactly where their feet were, how strong they were, and how to free himself. He even knew that Miller's left leg or foot had some injury because his grasp was pulling too strongly to the right to be just a common favoring of his right side.

And by looking at Davis, Luke could tell the guy was in prime physical condition. His pulled punch was still too open to predict the trajectory, but it would hurt. A lot.

If Luke didn't free himself right now, that punch would put him out of the fight for good.

So he acted.

Instinct took over his body as he jumped to the right while twisting his body. His legs found Miller's neck and locked it between themselves at the same time his left shoulder popped as it got dislocated because Jones' grasp had been firm on his arm.

Luke yelled in pain and clenched his legs. Miller, now chocked, let go of the hold on Luke's arm. Jones was surprised at dislocating Luke's arm and also let go; he wasn't an experienced fighter, only a bully. And Davis was also surprised enough to never finish his punch.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

When both boys let go of Luke's arms, his body started falling. He twisted it and elbowed Miller's left knee with all the might he could muster with his meager 4 points of strength and agility. Fortunately, it was enough for Miller to bend his injured leg and fall to the ground.

While they were falling, Luke had to make a split second decision. He could break Miller's neck with a twist of his legs.

Should he?

The answer came at once: no. He wasn't a murderer, and as much as Miller had helped make Luke's life a living hell, the boy didn't deserve to die for it.

So instead, Luke kept clenching his legs to choke the boy and extended his falling upper body. That allowed him to reach and hold onto Jones' legs and pull him to the ground too.

Well, that was the plan. Jones wasn't expecting it and should have fallen, but Luke was just too weak, especially with only one usable arm. The jock was so heavy his leg didn't budge even when Luke put all his strength into it. At least it ended up pulling the leg-locked Miller sideways, further destabilizing the kneeling boy and making his entire body fall to the ground.

Luke took the opportunity to twist Miller's body with his legs and make sure he would fall face first. Miller used his hands to fall on all fours instead, with Luke half-sitting on his back. Luke quickly let go of Jones, sat straight on Miller's back, and punched Miller's back of the head at a very specific point.

Hitting someone's head was a dangerous, potentially lethal move if made with a weapon. However, not only was Luke unarmed, he was also ridiculously weak. He used all his strength, and it as only barely enough to make Miller faint.

The boy's body fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

Luke, right above the fallen Miller, rolled backwards and a bit to the side, over his dislocated shoulder, while pulling it with his hand. With a pop, his shoulder got back to the place. When he was done rolling back, he stood up slightly crouched, then looked at his opponents and thought of his next move.

Leaving wasn't an option. Luke didn't know if his opponents were great fighters, but they definitely were good football players. There was no way someone as slow and light as him could go through them and leave the blind alley. Even if he did it by a miracle, they would catch him in a few moments.

A prolonged fight was also a bad idea. The alley was big enough for over five people to stand side by side comfortably. The three could surround him and finish him by attacking from all sides. No amount of mystical fighting experience would help then.

So Luke rushed at the closest bully, Jones, before his enemies could get their bearings back.

He estimated the jocks had about two to three times his strength and agility, and numbers in the system were straightforward: two times his agility meant two times his speed. There was no mystical math or diminishing returns, except when he became fast enough that the air resistance started mattering. Being so much weaker than his enemies meant only his overwhelming battle experience could give him a win here.

Most of what he knew was useless with a body as weak as his, but he was confident he could still win against teenagers.

His advantage started showing from the start. He used a set of movements from his memories to accelerate quickly and stop even quicker. His legs hurt from the effort, but that proved to be the right call an instant later.

Jones wasn't a total newbie when it came to fights—Luke suspected few football players were. Seeing Luke rushing at him made the boy raise his arms defensively and do a quick jab. If Luke hadn't stopped, he would have been punched in the face.

Not being a newbie didn't mean Jones was an expert though. He was so surprised at missing that he left his arm extended for too long. Luke grabbed it with both hands and jumped on it with his entire body. Most people's legs were stronger than their arms, and Luke, weak as he was, needed to take full advantage of it to keep his grasp on Jones.

Jones tripped ahead and fell with the extra weight. If it were a Jiu-Jitsu fight, it would be as good as over. Unfortunately, it wasn't. Davis was finally approaching and a kick of his could make Luke faint. So Luke used all his strength to pull, push and twist his body the right way to avoid Jones' muscle resistance and take his upper arm out of his elbow socket.

The guy screamed in pain when his arm popped. Luke let go of it and rolled sideways, narrowly avoiding Davis' kick. It was close enough to make him feel the air moving by his forehead.

Luke stood up and ran to the end of the alley. Davis was just too big and strong. Dislocating Jones' forearm had been a feat already, and Luke doubted he could do the same to Davis even if he found himself in a similar situation.

So instead, he rushed at one of the trash cans and took its tin lid to use as a weapon.

Davis was coming running, and Jackson was just watching everything in surprise. Bullies could be like that when they faced unexpected opposition. Everything Jackson thought he knew about Luke was proving to be a lie and he didn't know how to react to that.

Davis charged with body bent forward, arms ahead of him, ready for a tackle. Luke pushed the trash bin in front of the guy, forcing him to slow down and go around it. Then he took the opportunity to step to the opposite side and swing the lid horizontally like a baseball bat at Davis' head.

The guy defended with his arms, as Luke had expected, so the latter just pulled the lid and swung it again twice over before Davis retreated. The lid didn't fare well against the giant's strong arms, bending a lot, but it still cut through the school's jacket and cut one of his forearms, which started bleeding profusely.

Davis' grunted and clenched his jaws. Luke kicked the bin at him and ran... at Jones. The guy was standing up, recovering from the pain of the dislocated forearm. He was still dizzy though, and Luke kicked him in the face while running. Something audibly cracked, probably a tooth, but Luke knew he was too weak to do any serious brain damage to a football player like that.

Jones fell back to the ground, and that seemed to do it for Jackson. "Fuck!" He yelled. "Kill this motherfucker!" He took a retractable knife from his pocket and approached.

Taking the weapon out was one of the most stupid decisions Jackson had ever made.

Thanks to Luke's previous maneuvers, he was now between Jackson and Davis. Jackson clearly wasn't a knife master; from the way he was holding the weapon to his unsteady feet, everything screamed "amateur" according to Luke's strange memories and new instincts. He used his longer-reach trash lid to swing at the overextended hand, and the knife was sent flying.

Luke threw the lid at Jackson, who instinctively lifted his arms, then rushed to grab the knife. Once he had it, he turned back to his opponents. He remained half-crouched, the knife on his right hand close to him.

He had the advantage, and a knife was a lethal or at least maiming weapon.

Now he just had to decide whether he should kill his enemies.

> Strength 4 → 5

> Agility 4 → 5

And the system decided to make it even easier for him to do it if he wanted to.