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System Jazz
Not A Single Hit Landed

Not A Single Hit Landed

[Government Issued Quest: Reach Level 10 within 3 days. Importance: Utmost. Difficulty: Average. Progress: 1/10, Exp to next level: 13/100. (51/72 hours left).]

I've been trying to poke this guy with the spear for the last hour and still no luck.

It's hard to tell if the real body feels tired or if it's a fatigue system mechanic, but he makes me sweat bullets.

These arms are heavy too, not to mention the lack of air.

"All right, Noob, that was close enough."

Tank knocks the spear out, sending it flying across the Training Grounds.

He hadn't moved a step, and neither the sword nor the spear could penetrate his defenses.

And the way he talks, he must be a real-life fencer in disguise.

"Fuck, you must be cheating."

The accusation makes him grin, while the character falls to its knees, wiping the steam away.

"This spear is what, one kilo? And your mace is at least ten. How can you move it fast enough to block everything?"

"Practice, kid."

He hollers, leaning on his weapon.

He's not even sweating. The stench on the training ground must belong to the players attempting to beat him.

"You aren't hopeless. Only need to keep those eyes open, and close the distance instead."

"What do you mean? They were open the whole time, and you bumped me."

It's not easy to talk out of breath, and he's annoying.

"You want me to knock you over, or what?"

"Exactly. These are melee weapons, they are an extension of your body. You have to use it all to score a hit."

At this point, it would be better if the tutorial was only about moving a step left and right, this is some advanced shit.

"I'm not a statue to dance around."

"You're twice as big, of course, I'd keep the distance."

"And you might fight dragons a hundredfold as large in the future. What will be your excuse then?"

So this title has those too? Let's hope the next quest doesn't include them.

And that there will be a next one in the first place. Even the tutorial has me on my knees.

"Okay, say how to improve then, so far you only laughed."

The complaint makes him grin even more, raising his mace again.

Kneeling on the ground, the character is as good as dead if he's about to strike.

There's only a split-second to jump and dodge, and he won't stop there.

That weapon is hefty enough to break this stick, so it's pointless to block it.

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He'd launch it into space like the spear, so the best option is to back away.

After a few swings, he stops.

"See? Don't skip around, and go at it with intent."

He nods, lowering the mace.

That shit is scary, one swing, and halved damage or not, there would be a respawn.

"You had to back away, and these swings were heavy enough that you didn't even try to meet them."

"Of course, dude, that's an iron mace, it would break an arm together with this stick."

It's easy to keep him laughing, and it's odd how the zombie fight was full of adrenaline, and this one isn't.

He is leagues stronger than those bastards and could kill by accident.

"And you have the advantage of a light weapon. You should move it faster."

He shrugs, swinging that monstrous mass around.

"This is what fight is about, beat your opponent and put everything into it. Half-assing will only get you killed."

It's easy to talk when he has all that muscle and experience, or the system's programming if he's an actual NPC.

An AI shouldn't talk like this.

He isn't wrong, so far this poking was pathetic, no matter how much effort went into it. He could teach some real Jazz.

"Technique and strength are nice, yet they're worthless without intent."

He points it out, walking back to the center of the training grounds.

"You treat this as a game and a little challenge to poke with that blade. Treat it as a life or death situation instead."

"Fine, screw it, there's no way you can avoid it forever."

If he wanted to hype me up, he succeeded.

There's no stopping until a strike lands and no beating around the bush.

Let's launch a full-scale assault and see where it takes us.

If it misses, try again without stopping.

Get around him, dance behind his back, and keep attacking, until there is a gap in his defense.

He did the same before: even if a smash missed, another came before a chance to recover.

He expects to do this too and there's no need for defense.

He's also right about the weapon, it's light and doesn't have much heft about it so it won't do much damage.

The task was to land a hit, not to hurt him either.

And if the sword breaks, plenty more are in the racks.

And by the way, this is already worn out.

Weapons here have durability. Once they are no longer in perfect condition, a small bar below their icon indicates their status.

It starts green and full, then it gets yellow and red as it gets shorter.

This sword is already in dark orange from all the swinging.

Whenever it meets with his mace, the color gets darker, and when it misses wide, nothing changes.

Let's see if it will get damaged when it's stabbed into his muscular body too.

If he doesn't attack, move close enough so his weapon can't get between us.

The sword is smaller and lighter, and if it's launched from the cover of the body, he should have no chance to avoid it.

It's not a game he says, but he offered the perfect exploit.

If he's too proud to dance away, this could work.

The only goal is to land a hit.

Smashing into him with the shoulder is a reminder of how different it went down with the Aspirant.

She's way smaller, and using my weight worked great, so how does one beat up a larger opponent?

Of course by using their weight against them.

There are no attacks to avoid, and he doesn't move away.

With the back against him, a stab with the sword backward under the arm should remain hidden.

It still doesn't connect, he's a veteran after all, and even if he can't see what I'm doing, it was too obvious.

It's easy to follow up and force him to react at least.

Shifting that huge body is more difficult than moving mine.

Keep up the pressure even with the exhaustion, as long as he won't attack and make me focus on the defense.

And he's a man of his word. He backs into a corner and can no longer move without pushing out.

That would be a strike, and he promised not to do that.

Driving back the sword now will yield a clean hit, yet the durability bar is almost black. These last minutes were intense.

He defended more, chipping the edge of the wooden blade away.

One more block and it breaks, except he can't drag his mace between us.

There is nowhere to move, he's right where he needs to be.

With a loud cracking sound, the stick is no more and he hollers.

It was a hit right?