Ever since Greg—otherwise known as Jack Druss to the people of this world—was born, he had not once seen a day without snow. Wearing two layers of woolen shirts and leggings, a hooded pelt coat, big boots that thudded against the loudly with every step, and large mittens—Jack felt very cozy. From an outside perspective, he looked like a brown fuzzball with thin legs.
But he wasn’t wearing just any ordinary clothes.
Whenever he had the relevant thought, a blue box would appear in his vision, and visible only to himself.
[Jack’s Winter Set: +50% Resistance to Cold, +5% Agility]
Currently, it was winter. Like—the actual wintertime of this world of never-ending snow. Pale faced workers coming home from the mine flowed past Jack by the second, their teeth chittering and bodies shivering. They all wore clothing like his own, yet in comparison to everyone else, Jack felt only a slight tingle. The difference was in the [Enchanting Clothes] perk. Granting a plus fifty-percent resistance to cold, Jack wouldn’t be able to freeze to death even if he tried.
Despite his immunity to the cold, Jack didn’t think he would ever get used to Snowfall. The city was just literally crammed together. It was like a form of mental suffocation just being in here. Initially, because the buildings were so tall and the streets so narrow, it used to delude Jack into thinking that the buildings were going to slam together and crush him to death. But he hadn’t had such thoughts since.
Apparently, according to the books he had read at the orphanage, all of Snowfall was built in three years. This was only possible because of the combined effort of countless people working together tirelessly. After a mineral deposit containing every single ore imaginable was discovered right next to a deep-rooted and ancient Fi, there was an immediate scramble to build on top of it all.
That was eighty years ago.
Jack was coming back from his trip to the southern barracks and had to get back to the orphanage in time for dinner. If he was late, he would receive a scolding, even if he was a favorite of Mother Teresa.
Along the way, he took a shortcut through a tunnel that led under a series of buildings.
He then heard an echoing crowd of juvenile voices and laughter.
Once he reached the bottom of the stairs leading into the tunnel, he saw a group of children ruthlessly kicking and punching a frail, bespeckled boy. He was curled up on the floor in a ball and let out a dog-like whimper with each impact.
This scene caused Jack’s stomach to turn. Before he could think, his body moved first.
“Hey, stop it!” Jack shouted in an intimidating voice as he marched over. Unfortunately, Jack sounded as intimidating as a six-year-old boy could sound.
The group of children momentarily stopped and looked at Jack in amusement. They grinned and erupted into laughter.
“Look, it’s his boyfriend!”
“Who the fuck is this loser!?”
“I think he’s an orphan too!”
Jack slapped his mittens to the ground and readied his fists. He lost ten percent of the cold resistance bonus because of this, but it was just temporary.
This would be quick.
He silently appraised the group in his mind as he approached the group. They were of varying ages. He guessed that the youngest was five or six, and the oldest was nine or ten. There were ten all up. Eight of them were boys, and two were girls.
Two larger and older boys, and a feisty five-year-old girl came to the front of the group. They raised their fists and smirked confidently, expecting the unassuming boy to effortlessly crumple against uneven numbers.
This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.
They couldn’t have been more wrong.
[Against All Odds] snapped into place.
Suddenly and all at once, he felt everything.
And everything slowed down.
The dark and gloomy tunnel bloomed in color. His vision widened twice over, as if he had grown an extra pair of eyes on each side of his skull. With his next breath—like a dog—he smelled everyone’s distinct scent. He heard distant footsteps from outside the tunnel, the shallowness of everyone’s breath, and in his own ears, the beating of his heart. He felt every contraction of his muscles as he ran forth, from the bottom of his feet to the top of his head.
In this state, everything just made so much sense to Jack.
He saw everything for what it was. He stopped thinking. He stopped feeling. And he stopped being.
It was as if he was an outside spectator in his own body.
With his next step, Jack experienced the swiftness. It was like he was floating.
Everything that followed—occurred within twenty seconds.
Jack ducked under a sloppy fist and punched that person in the stomach. They keeled over and collapsed to the ground instantly. The next boy was shocked but wasn’t discouraged. He tackled Jack. But as soon as he did, he felt something smash into his cheek, and he fell unconscious.
Lunging past the little girl that was now frozen to the spot in fear, Jack jumped into the fray of the tightly packed group. He was immediately taken to the ground and dogpiled on by the entire group. It was pure chaos as they kicked and punched haphazardly. None of the kids had a clue what they were really doing.
And so with [Sturdy Body] bolstering his body, Jack felt nothing except for the occasional light sting from a well-placed strike.
Like a zombie slowly pulling itself out from its grave, Jack took the bullies down one by one with clean and practiced punches. About fifteen seconds later, Jack emerged victorious. The last two people, and the little girl from before, had run away.
Everyone else was either writhing on the ground in pain or out cold.
His enemies defeated and the fight over, [Against All Odds] finally ceased.
When Jack came back, he looked at his surroundings in bewilderment.
That was a…wild experience, he thought as he walked over to the victim of all this, stepping over a few bodies to get to him.
When he caught sight of their face, Jack was shocked.
It was Thomas Dornann. He lived at the same orphanage as him. He was a year older, quiet, and very timid—never seen him around without a book in his hands.
Jack was inspecting the forming bruises on his skin when he felt a sense of impending danger. It was something from behind. Jack rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding the punch that was headed for the back of his head—a life-threatening blow if there ever was one.
A few seconds later, the threat was taken care of. Afterwards, he came over to Thomas and helped him up. When the other boy opened his eyes to see who his mysterious savior was, he was in complete disbelief.
After his shock faded and they walked into the street, Jack asked Thomas about why he was beaten up.
Thomas stuttered as he explained himself. Apparently, he was walking home from the library and got lost. As he was trying to find his way home and ask for directions, he walked into that tunnel and was ambushed by that group of children.
After a moment of silence, Thomas asked Jack a question.
“Jack, y—you did all that? You beat them up?” Thomas whispered, speaking as if he was spreading a terrible secret.
Jack pursed his lips and asked nervously, “Could you keep it a secret?”
There was no point in hiding it. Even a seven-year-old could connect the dots. There was no one else there but him. If Jack tried to deny things, he would make Thomas out to be a crazy person, and he didn’t want that.
Thomas stumbled over his next words, “No, no! I would never. I—I mean, you’re my savior after all!”
Jack smiled. “Thank you. I just…I don’t like showing off.”
Thomas sighed, but then he had a thought. One that he couldn’t keep down. He had to confirm it.
“Hey Jack, were you born marked? There is no way you could've done that otherwise,” He inquired in a squeaky voice.
Jack—Thomas’ arm hung over shoulder—stopped walking. He turned and looked Thomas dead in the eye.
He scoffed, “What are you saying, Thomas? I wish. I can show you later, but I’m pretty good with my hands. That’s it.”
Thomas elicited a slight “oh” of disappointment.
Jack smiled, “If you want, I could teach you a few things, case anyone tries anything.”
Thomas brightened up when he heard Jack say this. “Really!?”
Jack nodded. “Yeah! Once you’re feeling better, we can practice whenever you want.”
Despite how excited Thomas seemed, he noticed a dip in his mood right afterwards.
He looked sad.
“Hey, are you alright? I know you just got punched in the face and stuff. I’m just wondering about,” Jack tapped one of his temples with his index and middle finger, “Up here.”
Thomas sighed. “I just wish I could be…strong like you, you know? You don't even look that hurt either. I hate being weak. And I hate people who use their strength to hurt others.”
Jack looked upon Thomas gently and sighed as well, Thomas’ words reminding him of a life that had long passed.