Hector walked towards the girl, noting the tattoo that ran along her forearm. He recognised it. It was a Ravisher tattoo. A gang related to the Collar Gang, they would often be found carrying out grunt work for them.
As he walked closer, his heart raced. She wasn’t them—he knew that, but what was the difference when she took orders from them all the same? The crows circled overhead, their calls becoming distant in his ear.
He now had more of a reason to take everything from this girl. It was wrong, sure. If he could go after the Collar Gang now, he would. But until then, she would have to do.
“Hey,” Hector came to a stop behind her, his fists clenched. “What is gutter trash like you doing around here?”
The girl turned, a scowl set on her face. She rubbed at her eye and spat on the floor, “Do I know you, you white-haired freak?” The girl’s gaze flickered from him to her victim for a moment.
She must not be taking me seriously.
“No. You don’t, and you don’t need to. Give the boy back his scrap, and I might go easy on you.”
The girl let out a cackle, looking at him as if he were an idiot. “Do you not know who—I’m with the Ravishers and this little—” she slammed her foot into the boy’s side. “Welp! Isn’t getting anything back. And you, well, you are about to be in the same position as him.”
The girl exploded forward, her brown hair whipping out behind her. She raised her arms in a mock boxing stance, displaying more competence than most. Two jabs thrusted at him. Hector dodged the first and deflected the second. His fist then rocketed forward, slamming into her gut and knocking her back. He then followed through with the rest of the Orion fist technique, leaping into the air and hooking his leg around her neck before slamming her into the trash-ridden floor.
Her head bounced off the ground, but she was up a second later. She scuttled back with her arms raised as she eyed him. “I didn’t realise I was in the presence of a professional. I didn’t realise the dojo sent its people to the dump. But then again, I guess you have to eat as well.”
She chuckled, glancing at the boy on the floor for a brief second. Even now, she was still preoccupied with her victim. Hector didn’t doubt that if she was a little more focused, she might have proven a challenge. But distracted, she wasn’t getting anywhere.
He kicked off the ground, launching himself towards her, aiming his knee straight for her chest—but missed. She sidestepped his knee and slammed her fist into his side, flooding it with pain.
Hector dropped to the floor, but she was on him in seconds. Her foot slammed down with reckless abandon as he scrambled from side to side.
So she does have some teeth. Good, I was worried this would be easy.
Hector twisted, rocketing off the ground, slamming his fist into her chest. She coughed. He spun. His leg again hooked across her neck, whipping down and bouncing her head off the ground. She didn’t get up this time.
The call of the crows overhead intensified. Hector dropped to his knees, resting a hand on her, and entered the Talent Space. Once inside, he extracted the fragments, as well as the Talent. The process took no more than a few minutes.
Once done, he stood up, combing a finger through his white hair as he looked down on the girl.
He’d like to say he felt satisfied, say that beating her had lifted some of the weight off his heart. But it didn’t. She wasn’t a Collar Gang member. Just the grunt part of a grunt gang. Really, the only thing that made it worthwhile were the Talent and Talent fragments.
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[Nimble Sole [•○○] (1/3)]
This Talent boosts the user’s ability to climb, jump, or manoeuvre in a precarious situation. Increased stacks of Nimble Sole boost this ability.
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The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
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The skill wasn’t bad. It would allow him to be at the very least more dexterous than he already was, but it wasn’t anything groundbreaking. And that meant it wouldn’t hurt to lose it.
I guess we have the first Talent for the Talent Garden. But that’s gonna have to wait till later.
The girl’s victim still lay on the floor in the fetal position, his eyes peeking through his fingers as he covered his face. Hector shook his head and bent down, picking up the scrap that the woman had been mocking him with.
He brought it to eye level and examined it. It was a glass pill bottle, chipped in places but still usable as a bottle. If brought to the right person, the glass itself could be sold for a few coins. He shrugged, flicking the bottle to the boy.
“Take it and get out of here before she wakes up. You’ve had enough trouble today,” Hector said.
The boy scrambled away amidst the call of the crows—they were hungry. Hector glanced up; the sky was now much darker than it had been earlier. He wouldn’t find much in the dark, and it’s not like he had a lamp.
Hector sighed, turned, and made his way down the loose footpath cleared from the trash. Whatever happened to the girl wasn’t his problem. If she woke up before the crows began taking chunks out of her, that would be for the best. But it wouldn’t be his problem.
A smile crept onto his lips. As soon as he got home, he could begin planting the Talent he’d found—from that one Talent, who knows how many Talents he could get.
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Hector walked through the front door, moving into the dimly lit, clean kitchen of his home. The table stood empty in the middle of the room; his father had yet to return home. A pang of fear washed through his chest. But he dismissed it.
His father was a grown man. He would come home late from time to time; that’s just how it was. Collar Gang or no Collar Gang.
Hector made his way to his bedroom but stopped in the middle of the rundown hallway and stood outside of Mirae’s room. He sighed, then raised his hand and rapped his knuckles on the old wooden door. The sound of shuffling came from the other side.
“Just a moment!” Mirae yelled.
The door flew open a few seconds later. And there, Mirae stood, her long hair frazzled and a look of slight annoyance in her eyes. It lasted but a moment, a bright smile overtaking it when she saw his face.
“Oh brother, I wasn’t aware you were back,” she said, raising her small, thin arms for a hug. “Are you hungry?”
Hector reached forward, embracing her as warmth settled in his chest. It felt good to be home.
“No,” he said, stepping back and giving her a once over. She still wore the same ratty clothes from yesterday, and her hair had taken on a browner tint to its white. “I was just coming to check on you.”
“Oh, I’m fine. You don’t need to worry about me.”
Hector nodded, not letting the disappointment show. She wasn’t okay, even if she thought she was. He may not be the same Hector, but she was the same Mirae. And all signs pointed to something being wrong. What happened the other day, the same clothes, and most of all, the hair.
Mirae would never let her hair fall into such a state, even if she was bending over backwards for the family. It was the one nice thing she allowed herself.
“Hector, is everything okay?” she asked. “I’m okay. You don’t have to look so worried. I promise I’m fine.”
He took a deep breath, then leaned against the doorframe. “It’s my job to worry. You are still growing, and I need to protect you. Speaking of growth, how is your cultivation coming along?”
Mirae scratched her cheek as they took on a red colour. “You don’t need to always protect me. But with my cultivation...” She hesitated, looking to the floor as she muttered something.
“Sorry, I didn’t hear you.”
“It’s not going well,” she said, her voice tinged with frustration. “The mana particles, they just aren’t coming, and I’ve been practicing since you left. I don’t know what’s wrong. I’m sorry.”
Hector sighed, then rested a hand on her shoulder, kneeling down to her eye level. “You don’t need to be sorry. What you’re going through is normal—normal for me, anyway. You just need to give it time.”
She smiled, her lips quivering slightly.
“Listen,” he said. “I’ve been stuck in Gravity Forging realm one for a while now—I probably have another four before I make it to the second stage. So don’t be too hard on yourself.”
“Okay,” she said, looking at the ground. Eventually, she nodded and stepped back away from the door. She grabbed it. “I’m going to continue working at it. If you need me for anything or get hungry, let me know.”
Hector nodded, watching the wooden door drift forward, closing with a soft thud. Flakes of dust drifted down like snowflakes, settling on the rotten wood floor. He seriously needed to do some repairs—it wouldn’t fix the problem, but at least the house’s eventual collapse could be halted.
I wonder if we still have the spare wood that I got from the dump.
Hector made his way down the rickety hallway, stepping into his loosely organized room. Discarded scraps lay in corners or tucked into shelves, dust settling on their surfaces. He loosened his tunic strings and pulled the shirt off, throwing it onto a clothes pile in the corner.
It was time to get acquainted with the Talent Garden. That, in turn, would hopefully give him a new set of Talents to work with.
He moved to his bed, bending over to pull out a meditation mat. The dump always did provide. He just had to have patience and he could eventually find everything he could need. He threw the mat, and it sailed through the air, landing in the centre of his room with a slap.
The room didn’t have anything else he needed to attend to. Mirae would eventually come and take the clothes. But if not, he would get to them when he was done.
Smiling, he crouched onto the mat, settling down into the lotus position. He didn’t need to meditate to use the system, but it brought some sense of rhythm to the whole thing—and rhythm was good.
Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes. “System, begin the Talent Garden space.”