Walking to the left, I made my way back into the locker room, feeling the adrenaline slowly ebb away, leaving my muscles heavy and my breaths deep. I sank onto the bench, my heart still racing from the fair intensity of the recent fight. That kick I attempted—my first time deploying it in an actual combat situation—had been a risky move, but one I felt was necessary to push my limits.
With a practiced motion, I keyed in the code to my locker—my birthday—and the mechanism clicked open. Retrieving the book from within, I held it in my hands, feeling its weighty significance. Flipping through its pages, I was grateful. The quest detailed within its worn pages couldn't have come at a better time. I need to elevate my strength to rival the true top contenders. They were stronger than I thought.
Mulling over the contents, I muttered aloud, addressing the unseen presence that guided me. "How do I use the skill roulette?" I hoped my voice would carry through the empty room, seeking guidance from the familiar entity that had aided me in the past. Doubt crept in—would it even respond this time? It had been a while since I last engaged with this particular aspect of the book's powers.
As if in response to my query, the voice echoed in my mind, reminding me of the process. "To use the skill roulette, bring out the book and flip to the second page." I hesitated briefly, realizing that I had only ever delved into the first page, curious and cautious about what lay beyond. I couldn't even technically turn it before. I turned to the yet unexplored section, wondering what secrets it might hold.
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Good job unlocking the "second stage" of your journey Oren!
I'm sure you have questions about who gave you this, why you, and more..
but right now, we have to use your skill roulette! It's just like your normal Roulette ability, but with skills!
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Lvl. 3 Weapon Mastery
Lvl. 3 Alpha-Omega Impact
Lvl. 3 Lazarus
Lvl. 3 Solomonic Adaptability
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I did care about those questions being answered, but I know it's God's plan. Upon turning to the second page, my eyes fell upon the array of formidable skills detailed within. Each one carrying the promise of immense power. As I perused them, a thrill coursed through me, my anticipation building with each passing moment.
Weapon Mastery stood as the most basic but reliable skill, though it lacked the sheer potency I craved. Yet, even if it were granted, I knew it could still prove useful in its own right. Alpha-Omega Impact, however, was without a doubt an ultimate attack—a force capable of shattering Gifted above my level. It could probably rival Time, this could be my trump card.
Lazarus, a symbol of revival, beckoned as a safeguard against insurmountable odds—a trump card to be kept close in dire confrontations, especially against adversaries like the formidable Deputy. Solomonic Adaptability, with its promise of enhancing my martial prowess, offered a tantalizing opportunity for growth and evolution.
Watching the options scroll by, I held my breath, my soul pounding. Each skill represented a different path, each with its own potential and risks. As the scrolling gradually slowed, I waited, and finally, the roulette settled on a skill.
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Congratulations! Here is your reward:
Lvl. 3 Lazarus - After being given a fatal blow or when your health becomes 0, revive with half of your health restored and an increase to all your stats. 80 soul to use, one month cooldown.
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Upon witnessing the skill I'd acquired, a surge of exhilaration coursed through me. I envisioned the potential this newfound ability held. "Yooo! That's nice." I couldn't help but voice my enthusiasm aloud, relishing the edge this skill might provide in future battles.
Curiosity still lingering, I directed another query to the enigmatic voice that guided me through this arcane process. "Will I be able to attain the other skills at a later date?" The response came with its characteristic matter-of-fact tone, delivering information in an almost robotic precision. "Some of them will appear in your shop at a high enough book level, and they will recycle in skill roulettes." The reassurance that these opportunities wouldn't be lost to me buoyed my spirits. The prospect of unlocking more skills down the line brought a sense of relief—I didn't want to miss out on the chance to acquire these powerful abilities again.
With the knowledge of possible future acquisitions settled, I turned my focus to the present. Swiftly, I navigated the interface back to the first page, efficiently upgrading my actual stats. Though the stat improvements were crucial for overall growth, my anticipation for the newly acquired skills far outweighed the immediate benefits of these upgrades. The thrill of what lay ahead overshadowed the present enhancements, driving my eagerness to master the skills I had obtained.
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Book Level: 3
Name: Oren Hashigana
Health: 4500 (+1000 Max)
Strength: 80 (+10)
Speed: 86 (+10)
Defense: 5%
Soul: 250
Skills:
Lvl. 2 Skill Combination
(+) Lvl. 3 Lazarus
Lvl. 1 Strength Booster
Lvl. 1 Speed Booster
Lvl. 1 Triple Strike
Lvl. 1 Cross-Arm Guard
Lvl. 1 Critical Hit
Lvl. 2 Danger Sense
Lvl. 1 Sledgehammer
Lvl. 1 Rage
Lvl. 1 Stealing Skills
Lvl. 2 Guaranteed Dodge
Lvl. 2 Peeking
Lvl. 1 Passive Healing
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
Lvl. 3 Roulette
Lvl. ??? Infinite Growth Limit (Passive) - No growth limit.
Points: 197
Shop:
Stats: 95p
Lvl. 3 Protection - For each person you are actively protecting in a fight, gain much higher defense and strength. 0 soul to use, one week cooldown. 3000p
Upgrade Book: 25000p
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Soon after completing the upgrades, an itch for testing the newly gained prowess consumed me. Last night, just before turning in, I set a timer on my phone for a brief ten-second interval. I vividly recalled jabbing ceaselessly within that fleeting timeframe, meticulously counting each strike. My combat instincts worked in harmony, allowing my reflexes to outpace the counting, indicating that the upgrades hadn’t significantly affected my reaction speed. I was able to throw just above twelve thousand.
Unaided by any enhancements or boosts, I embarked on the test once more. I initiated another timer on my phone and swiftly dove into a rapid flurry of jabs, channeling all my speed and focus into the relentless motion. The familiar rhythm of jabs echoed in the room – jab, jab, jab! My arm began to tire from the rapid succession, but I persisted, the count steadily climbing as I pushed my limits: ten, fifty, one hundred, two hundred, four hundred, one thousand, three thousand, ten thousand, eighteen thousand and seventy-two! The timer chimed, signaling the end of the ten seconds, leaving me exhilarated at the staggering count—eighteen thousand and seventy-two jabs within that brief span. The progress felt tangible, no one has documented the actual increase in a single stat. It's thought to be exponential. A 1 stat increase from 200 to 201 is infinitely more than 8 to 9.
Reflecting on recent training sessions with Megumi, I acknowledged the deliberate restraint I’d been practicing in unleashing my full destructive potential. Initially challenging to grasp, I had gradually deciphered the underlying "principle" behind containment—the art of harnessing power without unleashing it recklessly. Although I hadn't quite reached the level of effortless, lightning-quick movement at supersonic speeds without triggering visible or damaging wind currents, I had achieved a controlled punch, minimizing collateral damage to the surrounding areas.
Stepping out of the locker room, the weight of my backpack resting against my shoulders, I hastily dialed Aroha's number. She picked up after a couple of rings, her voice slightly flustered. I asked, "Hey, are you at the same spot?" It was evident she was in a rush, her words tumbling out in a hurry, "No, you idiot! I got swarmed after what you did. People kept bothering me, and some staff are taking me to the VIP room right now." Curious about the location, I inquired, "Where's the VIP room? I assume it's a place I can tag along to?" Aroha paused momentarily, muffling the phone as she conversed with someone nearby. After a brief exchange, she returned, her voice clearer, "Yeah, head to the third floor. Look for the gold room; it stands out. You'll be spotted right away and let in."
Feeling a pang of regret for inadvertently causing her trouble, I scratched the back of my head awkwardly as I responded, "Sorry about that, I just wanted to sort of dedicate the victory to you." Her voice, barely audible, whispered through the phone, "It's fine, I liked it. Just try not to stir up so much trouble again." Accepting her words, I replied, "Alright, I'll see you soon." With a click, I ended the call and made my way up the stairs, heading back to the bustling main audience floor.
As I strolled through the bustling second floor, a few heads turned in my direction, voices carrying hushed comments and murmurs. Amid the crowd, an older man, clearly intoxicated, caught my attention as he wobbled unsteadily, a beer gripped in his unsteady hand. His slurred words cut through the air, "You cocky little s**t, Time will destroy you." before he clumsily hurled the remnants of his drink in my direction.
Instinctively, I caught the airborne beer cup with a deft maneuver, efficiently containing the liquid within its confines. Turning my attention to the inebriated man, I addressed him firmly, "Sir, don't hurl your drinks. And more importantly, think twice before picking a fight with someone Gifted, unless they pose a genuine threat." I tilted my head mockingly, a touch of irony in my voice, "because I'm fairly confident I could kill you with a flick of my finger." The warning seemed to jolt him, prompting a cautious step backward as I discarded the cup into a nearby trash can with a nonchalant twist of my wrist. Continuing my stride forward, I approached the staircase leading to the third floor, leaving behind the tense encounter.
As I ascended to the third floor, the opulence of the area became apparent. The distinct aura of exclusivity lingered in the air, and I quickly identified the VIP room. Positioned at the end of the hallway, it was flanked by two imposing figures dressed in tailored suits—a familiar sight, the same clothes as the escort who had ushered me previously. Their presence was menacing, standing guard with unwavering vigilance. Neon lights adorned the entrance, casting a vibrant glow around the doorway, where a luxurious curtain draped elegantly, keeping the room private.
Upon catching sight of me, the guards immediately straightened their posture, their actions synchronized, extending their arms as if orchestrating an honorary passage. It felt as though I were being ushered like royalty. Stepping through the parted curtain, I entered the room, greeted by the sight of Aroha, seated comfortably with her back turned, leisurely munching on popcorn.
"Hey, can I have some popcorn?" I jested, approaching her with a playful grin. Aroha simply pointed off to the left, her voice casual, "There's a whole spread of snacks over there." My gaze followed her gesture, revealing an array of delectable treats arranged meticulously, inviting us to indulge. The room itself was furnished with eight plush red seats, each offering a prime view through a window that overlooked the battleground. It was a marked improvement from the seating arrangements below—a privilege, it seemed, reserved for those who had either progressed past the initial round or held a significant standing in the tournament.
Pondering the exclusivity of the room, I considered the criteria for entry. Reflecting on my previous matches, I mused, recalling the defeat I faced against Rank Seven—a reminder that even in this environment, he paled in comparison to opponents as formidable as those ranked further down the line, such as Rank Eleven. They must've thought I would lose in round one.
As my gaze shifted toward the pair stationed at the room's window, They had an imposing stature, resembling my own build. Among them, one stood out unmistakably, wielding a sword—the Red Samurai, as the rumors had suggested. I wasn't able to see his fight. Curiosity piqued, I turned to Aroha, seeking clarification. "Who are these guys?" I inquired, observing her finish a handful of popcorn before her nonchalant response broke the silence, "Oh, just some other participants. Say hi or whatever. This setup's pretty chill." Acknowledging her disinterest in delving deeper into the topic, I opted to respect her need for a lighthearted moment. It was evident she sought a respite from more serious discussions, and I saw no reason to disrupt that for the time being.
However, my focus shifted abruptly as the one wielding the sword pivoted toward me, leisurely abandoning his observation of the ongoing match, opting instead to make a deliberate approach. Each deliberate step resonated heavily, echoing his intent to assert dominance. Resting his elbow casually on the sheath of his sword, he raised his head haughtily, a calculated display to assert superiority. Refusing to falter under his display of dominance, I met his challenging gaze with unwavering intensity and will.
He grinned and declared, "I'm going to enjoy this."