Logan had tested his strength by lifting the canoe. He knew he could do things that would be impossible for a regular man. But when it came to his daily cheat exercises, it took effort to increase his strength, but often, repetition was enough to trigger the bonus. He’d been able to boost his strength by reaching deep into the water with his oars during the snake fight, by lifting a bucket of water, and by picking up and throwing huge rocks.
That meant that he could lift a chain that weighed more than a person, but he didn’t need to. Not to increase his strength attribute.
Logan was starting to think this trial was meant to be literally that—a trial. The System wasn’t going to make this easy, and by the time he made it through the twenty-four hours, he could be in for a world of pain.
The System also seemed to have adjusted each person’s chains according to their personal attribute score. Asthea’s chains appeared to be an inch thicker than Logan’s, and with a chain length that long, that meant an extra hundred pounds, easy.
Thorin was level 92 and according to [Idiot’s Inspect], strength was his highest attribute. Based on the chains, his strength had to be colossal. His chains were the same length as the others, but his had an aura to them. Logan could only equate the feeling to looking up at an elephant. You wouldn’t know how much they weighed just by eyeing them, but you knew they were behemoths who would crush you underneath their feet.
Arsen’s level wasn’t that too far from Thorin’s, and his chains were just as impressive. As far as Errol, his resembled Asthea’s, with a slightly heavier look.
“How does this thing start?” asked Logan, only to stagger as the rung holding the chains suddenly wrenched and pulled on them like a bicycle link.
The others shouted in exuberance and dug in their feet, planting them into the stone ground, their biceps bulging as they tugged on the chains like a game of tug of war.
Logan adjusted his feet, regretting that he hadn’t removed his shoes from his spatial storage before this started. The chains were slowly reeling him in, a foot at a time, and if he didn’t pull back on them, eventually, they’d force him flush to the wheel. Grinding his teeth, he dug in, pulling back with a grunt of effort. Damn. They were heavy as hell. It felt like he was pulling on a mountain!
“Hah hah hah,” jeered Thorin with a grunt of effort, his eyes like slits as he looked at Logan. “The weakling won’t last a minute!”
“Thorin,” scolded Asthea with a grunt, “be nice!”
Scowling, Logan glared at Thorin and the other guards. Logan had wanted to succeed at this for the gains, but now, he wanted to win. His competitive streak was rearing its head. He was in the one percent; he’d managed to rank up amongst billions of people—billions! He’d gone through hell—from missing limbs, to burns, to asphyxiation. Not to mention the personal loss of losing Eleanor and Ernie and the stress of worrying that his sister and nieces wouldn’t survive. For these a-holes to taunt him and call him a weakling because he didn’t match their perceived view of strength was FUBAR.
He’d show these fuckers who was the weakling—news flash, it wasn’t Logan.
Logan pulled on the chains, his fingers white-knuckled, tugging with all his might. His face flushed with blood from the exertion, the cold room suddenly feeling like a hundred degrees.
Ding!
[You have earned one strength point!]
Logan couldn’t help a grin of self-satisfaction from spreading across his face, but his elation soon turned to annoyance.
[Trial Update:
Thorin: 1 Strength
Arsen: 1 Strength
Errol: 1 Strength
Asthea: 1 Strength
Logan: 1 Strength]
Everyone had received a point! What was worse is that as soon as Logan received the bonus, the chains thickened in size, and they felt heavier as if the System had adjusted for his strength increase in real time. The chain continued trying to reel him in. Logan had to dig his elbows in close to his sides, plant his feet, and pull.
Ding!
[You have earned one strength point!]
Once again, the rest were right on his heels, earning the same bonus point.
[Trial Update:
Thorin: 2 Strength
Arsen: 2 Strength
Errol: 2 Strength
Asthea: 2 Strength
Logan: 2 Strength]
“Hah!” grunted Errol as he tugged on his chain. “The idiot lasted longer than a minute!”
Asthea didn’t have any attention to spare to scold him this time; her face and neck red and her hair growing damp with sweat as she tugged on her chains.
I’ll show you an idiot. Logan’s frustration at the System’s name boiled over, lighting a fire underneath his blood, rage surging as the drive to excel grew stronger. His exoskeleton creaked as he adjusted his grip and curled his fingers around a chain length higher above. The group’s decision to wear fingerless gloves was making less sense. Logan had assumed it was strategic, but he didn’t see any advantages to having bare fingertips other than being able to feel the chain length under his grip.
Tugging on the metal with half his attention, Logan glanced at the others and made sure they weren’t paying attention. By now, the battle with the wheel was their only focus.
Wasting no time, Logan willed out the sand and diamond dust and reformed his talons, but this time, he shaped them into hooked curves. Now, the Logan-exoskeleton covered his arms and hands in seamless armour, and he could latch his talons around the nearest coil, giving himself a sturdier grip. The chains had already gotten slick with sweat, and that meant he wouldn’t lose his grip unless he fell over.
Giving the chain a bit of slack so he freed up his feet, he funneled a bucket full of sand into reforming his boots. As they spread underneath the soles of his feet and toes, Logan rose half an inch in height. But this time, he didn’t stop there.
Logan took two handfuls of diamond dust and sculpted crampons into the bottom of his boots, sharp spikes like mountain climbers wore. They wouldn’t help him on the bare stone floor, but that wasn’t his goal. That runway line—the etchings that the System had carved into the floor to separate the competition area—were perfect for him to dig his boot spikes in deep, creating a solid base that wouldn’t slip and slide.
Logan shuffled over to the etched line and slammed his boot over top of it, digging in his crampons with his left foot and using his right foot for stability. That meant he had one less thing to worry about, allowing him to focus on his arms and the tug of war to the exclusion of anything else.
Taking a deep breath, Logan tugged on the chain, hooked talons secure in the coil, his feet firm and unmoving. He’d created stability, but there was no way around the fact that this trial required strength. His biceps were already screaming in discomfort, but Logan yanked, not even pausing when he received the System message; he was in it to win, and that meant no slacking off, no breaks.
Ding!
[You have earned one strength point!]
[You have earned one strength point!]
[Trial Update:
Logan: 4 Strength
Thorin: 3 Strength
Stolen novel; please report.
Arsen: 3 Strength
Errol: 3 Strength
Asthea: 3 Strength]
Errol made a sound of outrage. “How did the weakling get ahead of us?” he panted. He gave Logan a piercing stare, the veins on his forearms standing out as he adjusted his feet, stepping back and forward in a constant fight with the wheel.
“I don’t know,” grunted Thorin, “but that’s the last time!” With a massive tug on his chains, he looked like a bodybuilder—thick thighs bulging, his chest flush with sweat, his arms swelling as he moved backwards and closer to the stone wall. Each time he pulled on the chains, the wheel fought back, yanking him forward. For Thorin to have backed up to the wall meant he had to have committed a tremendous amount of effort.
The System awarded him.
[Trial Update:
Thorin: 6 Strength
Logan: 4 Strength
Arsen: 3 Strength
Errol: 3 Strength
Asthea: 3 Strength]
The others took note of his success and committed to the same, Asthea screaming as she pulled on her chains and gradually, gradually inched closer to the wall. Arsen looked bemused, but his eyes glinted at the challenge. Taking a different strategy, he let his chains go slack and then tugged on them in quick, sharp movements, pushing back like a shark on the end of a fishing line.
Errol roared and tried to copy Thorin, his face looking not just red but purple as he pulled on the coils, his fingernails shredding and bloody as he tried to get a better grip.
Logan watched them calmly, not giving anything away. While they’d been straining, he’d been steady, his talons latched around the chain coils, his feet secure. He let the wheel lure in the line, and then tugged back at the same pace.
Ding!
[You have earned one strength point!]
[Trial Update:
Thorin: 6 Strength
Logan: 5 Strength
Arsen: 4 Strength
Errol: 4 Strength
Asthea: 4 Strength]
The effort they’d expended to show Logan up had done damage. They were all straining, their chests moving like they couldn’t get enough air, the chains jumping in their hands and pulling them closer to the wheel.
Meanwhile, Logan stayed in his secure perch, letting the wheel reel in the chain so he could pull back on it. But it was in no means a free lunch. Staying motionless and keeping up with the force of the wheel took everything he had, and each time he received a System confirmation, the chain only grew worse—heavier, thicker, the metal looking odd and alien as it glinted strangely, giving off an aura that was beginning to match Thorin’s.
Ding!
[You have earned one strength point!]
[Trial Update:
Thorin: 6 Strength
Logan: 6 Strength
Arsen: 4 Strength
Errol: 4 Strength
Asthea: 4 Strength]
Thorin hissed in a breath and once again pulled on his chains, the tie between them seeming to fill him with rage. He took a step forward, letting the chain yank him closer to the wheel, and then jerked on the metal, the huge coils swinging back and forth as he strained. This time, he only managed to increase his strength by one point, his rage-filled eyes losing focus as sweat poured down his forehead and dripped from his nose.
[Trial Update:
Thorin: 7 Strength
Logan: 6 Strength
Arsen: 5 Strength
Errol: 5 Strength
Asthea: 5 Strength]
By now, Logan would have thought they’d been at this for hours, but Arsen grunted, “One hour! Errol loses the wager.” Was that a hint of mischief in his eyes? Logan blinked away sweat, his eyes burning. How could Arsen have time for anything other than pain?
Errol growled. “How is the weakling not in a pool of exhaustion at our feet?”
Arsen shot him a look as his biceps bulged. “Remember our purpose, brothers. The alien is a distraction. Asthea is the priority.”
Errol growled again, this time a rumble of agreement. “How are you doing, Asthea?”
“Six strength increases!” she said, sounding elated.
A growl rose from Thorin’s chest. “Go for ten!” Then, cutting his eyes to Logan, he grinned toothily, his eyes glinting in challenge. “Idiot here is about to collapse.”
Oh hell no. Each time they insulted him, it only fueled his rage and desire to succeed. But the constant chain weight increases were taking its toll. Logan’s shoulders felt as if he’d strained every single muscle, shards of glass tearing through his flesh. Underneath his exoskeleton gloves, his hands felt swollen, as if he’d injected a syringe of water into each finger.
But it was just pain. He was no stranger to pain.
Digging his teeth into his cheek until he drew blood, Logan strained, pulling and pulling, every nerve ending on fire.
Ding!
[Idiot’s Paradox is Level 12!]
His eyes widened. [Idiot’s Paradox] was a skill that leveled only when he did himself harm; usually, it was through an ineptitude action, like kicking his bare foot against a tree trunk, all happenstance and unintentional. He hadn’t yet leveled up the skill intentionally, since it took serious pain. If this trial gave him strength at the same time as leveling up [Idiot’s Paradox], could he increase the skill to the point that he no longer felt pain at all?
Filled with new purpose, Logan yanked on the chains again, killing himself and pushing through the pain, feeling as though his shoulders and arms were on fire. This was beyond a muscle cramp, beyond what should be possible. Physically, he was done. But mentally, he was nowhere near done.
Ding!
[Idiot’s Paradox is Level 13!]
[You have earned one strength point!]
[You have earned one strength point!]
[Trial Update:
Thorin: 8 Strength
Logan: 8 Strength
Arsen: 6 Strength
Errol: 6 Strength
Asthea: 6 Strength]
Minute after minute, Logan continued. He could no longer feel his arms and hands. Gradually, the grunting from the others, their screams of disgust as Logan pushed through, faded away. Logan closed his eyes and tuned everything out. He was the chains. The chains were him. He wasn’t giving up, and they’d have to pry his dead fingers away from the coil to defeat him.
Ding!
[Idiot’s Paradox is Level 14!]
[You have earned one strength point!]
[You have earned one strength point!]
[Idiot’s Paradox is Level 15!]
[….]
[Idiot’s Paradox is Level 21!]
[You have earned one strength point!]
[You have earned one strength point!]
[….]
[Idiot’s Paradox is Level 26!]
“I can’t take it!” panted Asthea. “Enough!”
Logan opened his eyes.
Asthea’s hair was drenched with sweat, frizzy strands standing up, her long bangs hanging in her face. Filled with mischief before, she now looked like she’d been through hell and back. With a massive boom, she dropped the chains, letting them slam to the stone floor, and then collapsed into a sprawl, her chest moving up and down like a marathon runner.
Errol gave her a grateful glance, as if the only thing keeping him standing was the fact that Asthea hadn’t given up. With a sigh of relief, he dropped his chains, the sound echoing through the chamber as they hit the floor. “Thank the clan,” he panted, collapsing to his feet. He no longer had any attention to spare to Logan, the competition long forgotten.
Logan blinked at the updated trial numbers.
[Trial Update:
Logan: 18 Strength
Thorin: 16 Strength
Arsen: 14 Strength
Errol: 13 Strength
Asthea: 12 Strength]
“What witchery is this?” panted Thorin with a glower at Logan, his legs wobbling before he adjusted his feet and stood tall.
“I win the wager,” said Arsen with a grin. “But brothers, that’s as far as I go.” With a grateful sigh, he released his grip on the chains and let them fall with a tremendous boom. Wobbling, he staggered over to Asthea and collapsed next to her. Asthea gave him a shaky smile and gently pressed her hand against his sweaty forehead, dipping her chin in acknowledgement.
Logan turned his attention to Thorin.
“I won’t be beaten by a man who calls himself an idiot!” he growled.
If Thorin wanted to dance, Logan would dance. He’d leveled up [Idiot’s Paradox] to the point that for the first time, he felt a noticeable difference. The pain was still there; he was doing unimaginable damage to his body, but Logan could suffer through this with sheer grit and determination.
Logan closed his eyes.
Stillness. He needed to be calm and still. He thought back to the endless chasm of water he’d envisioned when he’d opened his Karma pool. A pool of silver water, so deep that you’d never reach the bottom.
Through the pain, through the agony, through his torn muscles and numb extremities. Logan would never stop, not this day, not ever.
Ding!
[You have earned one strength point!]
[You have earned one strength point!]
[Idiot’s Paradox is Level 27!]
[You have earned one strength point!]
[…]
“Thorin!” Asthea suddenly screamed, followed by a massive, colossal boom that echoed around the room.
Logan opened his eyes.
Thorin was on his side on the floor, the chains half on top of him, his mouth gaping wide open as drool pooled down his chin. His eyes were unfocused, his face beet red that soon turned to an unhealthy pallor.
Logan squinted at the trial update.
[Trial Update:
Logan: 23 Strength
Thorin: 20 Strength
Arsen: 14 Strength
Errol: 13 Strength
Asthea: 12 Strength]
With a sigh of exhausted satisfaction, Logan dissolved his talons, willing the diamond and sandstone dust back into his spatial collar, and then let the chains drop to the floor.
Ding!
[You have completed the strength trial! As the winner of this section of the trial, you will receive an extra reward. The reward will depend upon your results relative to the other members of your party.]
[Calculating rewards…]