"Are you still fighting with your uncle?" Ramji asked.

"We're not fighting." I lied. "Its just a disagreement."

"Is that so?" Marco asked. "Tell me, would you be willing to compromise with his point of view?"

"No. Because its a stupid point of view."

"I don't know man. Sounds like a fight to me."

I sighed. Shifting my balance around before wailing on the punching bag from a different angle.

The thing barely shook, even when I used my full strength.

So, I hit it again and again and again. Putting my full weight behind each and every strike until my knuckles were red and raw.

"Come on man. We've known each other for, what, two weeks now? You can't seriously tell me that I'm wrong."

"Not at all." Marco assured me. "In fact, I think you're the sanest one in the conversation. You can't just, stop going to the dungeon. That's ridiculous. Even if you had the best core around, something around the 7th stage like Elsie or her folks, it won't mean anything if you don't train. Doing these exercises is fun and all, but you can't substitute real-world experience."

I kept punching the bag. Alternating between hooks and jabs, with the occasional kick here and there.

"I mean, look at you now. You're hitting a practice bag made from third-floor materials and your hands are barely getting bruised. Good call working out without gloves by the way. A lot of folks don't like it but its a surefire way to sneak in a few fractions of Fortitude and Vitality while letting out some steam. I know it hurts, but both coach Russell and my own dad swear by it. Sorry. Tangent. Where was I?"

"You guys were talking about his uncle." Ramji supplied helpfully.

"Right, the stupid, no-going-into-Dungeons idea. Think on this. Do you think you could have gotten as strong as you are now if you hung around doing nothing?"

"No." I said at once. "I've never been this powerful."

"Right, and how do you think your uncle compares to you?"

I bristled at the comment.

"That's, not entirely fair. He's older than me and he was levelling more slowly even when we were doing the same things inside the dungeon."

"Okay, sure. But I bet the gap wasn't that large was it? Let me guess. Half a point?"

"More or less." I confirmed.

"Good. Now, you've been going with us and coach Russell to the fifth floor and you can at least hold your own there. So long as we stay by your side. Meanwhile, your uncle's been doing push-ups and crunches this whole time. Tell me, has he gotten any stat to two?"

"Only Endurance." I confirmed.

"And? What does your Analyzer say?"

I stepped back from the bag swaying on the thick chains, wiped the sweat from my forehead with a warm towel and made to check.

Name:

Cecil Fowler

Core:

None

Level:

0

Vitality:

3.4

Endurance:

3.5

Potency:

2.1

Precision:

2.0

Fortitude:

3.5

Skills:

None

"It's a lot higher than his." I confirmed.

"Of course it is." Marco piled on. "Because you can't get truly powerful without fighting. No matter how hard you try, you'll always end up trailing behind. Always. Which means you are right and your uncle is wrong. There's no two ways about it. No matter how big the gap between you two was, he could have narrowed it by fighting as hard as you have. The fact that he's not doing that means that he's wasting his potential."

"I know all of that already." I replied curtly. Focusing on the target once more before unleashing a flurry of blows that would have made a pro-boxer blush.

I hit it for what felt like an eternity. Not stopping for a second as the pain in my hands began to flare up again.

The bag had small tears around its exterior by the time I relented. That, and my hands had started to form new blisters.

"So, if you know that, you need to tell your uncle." Ramji explained. Acting as if it were the easiest and most obvious thing in the world.

"Believe me. I've tried. Somehow, it doesn't stick no matter what I say."

Ramji nodded sagely. Closing his eyes and leaning against one of the pillars within the cavernous gym.

"Right. Okay. Think about it like this. What's the scariest animal out there?"

Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

"In the dungeon?"

"No. In the outside, totally mundane world. What's the scariest animal?"

"I don't know. Bears, I guess? Or tigers, depending on where you live."

"Right." He said, placing his hands together and bobbing them up and down. "Let us go, with tigers. How do you think you would do against a tiger?"

"With my bare hands?" I thought about it. Recalling the documentaries I'd seen.

"I'm not sure I like my chances unarmed. It might be different if I had my spear though."

Ramji and Marco chuckled.

"What's so funny?"

"The things you just said man." Marco stammered in between giggles. "You realize that tigers are like, normal animals. Right? You fight Rippers every day and you can kill three or four without help by now. Do you actually think there's a tiger out there that can take on a fully awakened Ripper down on the first floor?"

That was good point. One I hadn't considered.

"I guess not. But I still don't see where you're going with this."

"That's easy. Tigers are the metric you'll use. If a Ripper is slightly stronger than a tiger, then you can use those as familiar examples. All you have to do is go to your uncle and explain, carefully, that there are going to be billions of tigers and their equivalents raining down on every corner of the globe soon. And then you move on from that to explain that they will be the least of humanity's problems. Like, see this. I like kaiju movies. I'm a huge fan. Now, show your uncle one of those movies and tell him about all the monsters on he lower floors that make them look like puppies. Here's a hint. There's a lot of them."

Ramji was nodding along. Seemingly satisfied with the direction the conversation had taken.

"And even if he keeps being stubborn, we'll still be your friends."

A pang of guilt stabbed at my heart then. My mind recalling the selfish reasons I'd had for wanting to get closer to them.

I had been considering getting their help in some indirect way if and when an escape became necessary. Not caring too much about them as people.

That had certainly changed by now. Marco, Drew and Ramji might not be, normal. At least, not in the conventional sense that I was used to. But they were good people. Decent, honest and upfront about their opinions. They hadn't stuck around because someone had told them to. They'd become genuinely interested in helping me grow and in listening to my problems.

To the point where I'd been forced to reciprocate some of their care.

'It isn't like they've lied to me or anything. Monsters are real and they are coming. The only logical course of action is to keep getting stronger as fast as possible. Anything else would be throwing our lives away. The town is the best place to do that. Granted, I still want some backup options. But those can wait until after I've got my core. After all of us get good cores.'

I felt more shame and frustration rising to the surface. Rooted in the fact that we, out of all the people in Canada or the world for that matter, had gotten this chance. That there might be millions, heck, billions of people that would have jumped at the chance to survive a coming apocalypse with ease. That my uncle was wasting such a precious opportunity.

'Oh man. This place has changed me faster than I thought. It wasn't too long ago that I was considering streaming a few speed runs as a hobby and now here I am. Wanting to throw myself into more danger to get magical powers. Wanting to get my uncle more involved in the danger too.'

It was at that point that Drew spoke up for the first time during this conversation. Sauntering forward as her ponytail swished behind her.

"All of that is well and good." She began. Giving the three of us condescending looks. "But there is a much easier way to make Cecil's point."

"And that would be?"

"The punching bag." She answered haughtily.

My eyes glanced back at the tarnished sections of the bag I'd finished creating.

"Not that one." She corrected. Now sounding a little annoyed. "The normal one. Like, the kind that normal athletes use out there."

"We have normal punching bags here?"

I looked around to see if I could spot one. Yet all I saw in the underground gym were the same exercise machines that looked like they belonged in a factory floor, rather than a workout space.

"They're obviously not here Cecil. What would we even use them for? No. The normal ones are in the kiddie gym."

"The one where Eva has P.E?"

"Yep. That's the one." She started making motions with her hands as she spoke, as if to illustrate her master plan.

"See, the little ones use them to practice their punches and kicks and other martial arts. Its a decent way to get fractions of points if you were born with a core, since we weren't allowed to go down into the dungeon until we were thirteen. Thing is, those things don't last. At all. I know I broke at least one when I was ten and Marco went through them like they were pizzas."

"Ah yeah. I remember kicking one of those sand-filled ones over the roof of my house." He sighed wistfully. "Those were fun times. I got into so much trouble though. Turns out it landed on my grandpa's head. He was okay, but his garden wasn't."

"Fascinating story. Anyway, we get one of the older ones, the ones that are about to be thrown out and we show your uncle what you can do to it. That way, he'll have to confront the fact that going into the Dungeon is the only way to grow properly. He'll have to take training more seriously after that."

"I don't think that's what the problem is," I said. "I think he's afraid."

"Well duh." Marco interjected. "That's nothing new though. We're all afraid when we go into the Dungeon."

I whirled my head to stare at him. My eyes feeling like they were seconds away from popping out of my skull.

"What? Did I say something wrong?"

"You." I clarified. "You are afraid when you go into the Dungeon?"

"Of course. That's what makes it fun."

I kept staring into his soul for a few more seconds. Trying and failing to process this new information.

He noticed and rolled his eyes in an exaggerated manner.

"Don't be like that man. I'm being one hundred percent real with you. Going into the Dungeon is scary. No one's saying it isn't. I mean, I like going and I have fun there. But that doesn't mean it isn't scary. There's a reason why healers are so in-demand no matter what their core is. Everyone gets hurt and no one likes getting hurt. Well, some people do like it, but that's neither her nor there. The point is that taking hits is a part of life. Maybe that wasn't the case before, when the world didn't have magic, but it sure is the case now."

"He's right." Drew confirmed. "I don't want to fight monsters for a living. I want to be a DJ sometime in the future. However, I know that being alive in general is going to get very tricky without being at least level 3 or 4. And that's the barest minimum man. Its gonna get a lot worse before it gets better. Your uncle, listen. Its gonna sound cruel. But he's gonna have to suck it up."

"Its not like that." I insisted. Angrier now that they were dancing around the issue.

"He's afraid for both of us. Not only is he refusing to go to the Dungeon; he's also trying to keep me from going."

Ramji shook his head.

"Damn man. That's crazy."

"No. Ramji. Its not crazy. That's a completely normal reaction. If I were in his shoes and someone told me Eva was going into the Dungeon, then you can bet anything that I'd be running down her group to stop her from going. By force if need be. The problem I have is that I know where he's coming from and how much he cares while also knowing he's dead wrong and that its gonna cost him and my aunt the chance to get halfway-decent cores. I..."

My hands went up in the air.

"I don't know what to do. Okay? I'm confused. I know what has to be done and I know that doing it will hurt the people I care about. Also, I think about what would happen if... if I didn't come back. How that would affect them. I have to be strong to protect them but I might die in the process of getting there. Its hard."

Marco put a hand on my shoulder.

"Dude, you're not going to die. Stop being so dramatic."

"Yeah." Ramji agreed. "We got your back. No matter what happens. Besides, fighting monsters might be dangerous, but its not that dangerous."

"What he said. People have written books about all the floors and the bosses they have. We'll be fine."

They all looked at each other for a moment, before nodding in unison.

"Tell you what." She continued. "First, we'll go get that punching bag. So we can show your uncle what you can do and he finally stops worrying about you. Second, we stop by a few shops around town. Maybe get up to a little mischief. It'll make you feel better."

"I don't know about that."

"No. You don't understand man. You're not the Cecil from a few weeks ago. The stuff that would have killed you then will barely bruise you now. Time to take advantage of it."

Ramji must have sensed my hesitation, because he stepped forward then.

"Look, if all goes well with your uncle, then that's that. No need to blow off steam. But if it doesn't go well, you'll need some way to relax. To get rid of all that tension, you know? Just give it a shot and stop if you don't like what we get up to."

I gazed at him. At all of them. Noting that they were genuinely trying to help.

"Okay. Let's have a go at it."

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Eva was delighted by my display with the punching bag. Squealing in delight as I kicked it higher and higher. The impact resonating like canon shots among the woods.

Marco, Drew and Ramji were cheering me the whole way through.

My aunt and uncle were, less impressed.

So we left after a short while and made our way all over the town proper.

Throwing axes on a cordoned off-range. Sprinting up a skiing slope and then going down on garbage can lids. Eating pizza and ice-cream until we got sick.

It was dumb and nonsensical. The kind of thing I would never have considered before coming here.

I had so much fun.