[1% LIFESTEAL] Chapter 21 - Shame

The walls were painted a deep, crimson red. Tattooed men and women wearing robes the color of blood strode around the hallways, interacting close to none with their peers and acquaintances.

A large stone door shifted up, slowly screeching as the people passing by did their best not to turn to look at it. And from within that opened door, Janhalar strode out. The entrance abruptly slammed shut behind him, creating a violently loud noise, but he continued without a flinch.

Passing by the Grand Hall of Flowing Blood, then the high-ranked living area, he went to a conspicuously ordinary door in the corner of the building. He pushed the door open and walked inside. The drastic cut-off from the dungeon-esque interior of his faction’s headquarters to the standard office he was walking into was akin to stepping through a passage.

While cultural identity was important, outsiders were most certainly not comfortable working in the type of environment the Kraven were used to.

Most of his subordinates swapped their clothing to a standard, plain office suit upon entry to this area. The patriarch was the only exception to this. He did not conform to the standards of society. Society conformed to his demands.

Or, at least, that was what he’d like to believe. But even his gods knew that wasn’t the case.

It didn’t take him long to make it to his office, finding yet another boring stack of papers he had to deal with. He summarily ignored that pile and walked over to a drawer.

A report had been placed in there.

Flipping through it, he couldn’t help but release an uncharacteristic sigh. It was basically over. The last of his hopes had been shattered with this. Not only had the doctor turned out to be a careless charlatan, but also, due to the man’s failure to hide his actions, all hope of cracking past that witch’s defense was now lost.

He couldn’t keep lying to himself. The unique remnant was nowhere to be found. Even if, by some miracle, that poor boy was capable of hiding it, or even knew what it was, now that he was under Madam’s protection, it wouldn’t be long, if it hadn’t happened already, that she would discover it and claim it for herself.

If that bastard Harold truly hadn’t already done that.

Taking a deep breath, he calmed himself. Wrath such as this wasn’t typical of him. The family needed a pillar of support, a stoic watcher, and not a rabid animal rushing to make enemies.

With deep regret, he finally accepted that the remnant would never be his. However, he couldn’t help his glance from drifting to the name written on the report.

‘Freddy Stern.’

This person had received help from Harold, and now he had become Madam’s toy. For what little, if anything, it was worth, Janhalar wouldn’t simply let this issue go.

There was still an infinitesimally small likelihood that this man had indeed taken the unique for himself.

And Janhalar wasn’t one to leave it be without taking a look.

***

Although being watched over did mean that Freddy was at least somewhat safe, it made some of the tasks he had to do painfully embarrassing. He yet again squatted as deep as he could and made yet another clumsy jump forward—for what was likely over a hundred times in a row.

That day was the first time he had used the Frog Leap technique. Not only did using it give him a splitting headache, but it also felt like something was being violently shoved up his ass.

He had gotten rather lucky with Flowing Strike, which suited him quite well, but this version of Frog Leap didn’t fit him. This meant he had to buy a new movement ability or make one himself.

He chose the latter option.

Now, Frog Leap was alright, but Freddy had grown more ambitious lately. This was why he had selected Hydraulic Flex as his new target. Now, this wasn’t a movement ability, at least strictly speaking.

It was a general martial arts technique that could be seen as an alternative to Flowing Strike. It used a pump of pressure to flex a specific muscle. It was a favorite of water swordsmen and was generally considered top-tier for all forms of martial arts.

It also couldn’t be obtained through a scroll.

Manifesting this ability by oneself was a tremendous investment of time and effort. Every body was unique, and this ability needed to fully suit whoever was using it. Many tried and succeeded at creating a partial version that only worked on a few select muscles.

But Freddy was hellbent on making it perfect.

Regarding mobility, Hydraulic Flex was a one-stop shop for everything from jumps, leaps, dashes, running, swinging, and pretty much all forms of parkour. In fact, Frog Leap was just a limited version of the skill, one that focused on leaps.

Getting down into another squat and focusing on the water in his legs, Freddy exerted his essence again and tried compressing the water to enhance the flex of his muscles. It yet again failed to do anything but cramp his leg, and this time, he sprawled on the ground.

Freddy yet again realized just how lucky he was to have 1% Lifesteal. One of the primary barriers to mastering Hydraulic Flex was the everpresent risk of injury. For him, that was far from the primary concern.

It had been only a few days since his meeting with Madam. Back then, he had told her that his growth had slowed somewhat. In that short time, it seemed to have worsened.

Freddy sensed himself running out of essence again, so he meditated. Bloodshed was still hidden in his apartment, so he no longer had help gathering, but it didn’t make a difference.

Blue wisps flowed toward him, seeping into his soul and slightly aiding his essence recovery. But they seemingly made close to no difference with his star. Freddy pushed his meditation onward, but far before his willpower faltered, he was practically out of water wisps to consume.

With a deep sigh, Freddy got up and continued his standard training, too low on essence to continue practicing his techniques.

This was the main problem he was facing.

There was Flowing Strike, his tempering techniques, Create Water, and now, he was working on Hydraulic Flex. It was akin to a penniless beggar making a shopping list. There just wasn’t enough essence to go around.

Even with the slow-down accounted for, he had been expecting to be able to increase his reserves by at least 30% in the next month. Now? He wasn’t sure if he’d raise it by 5%.

This meant that he had to schedule different techniques on different days, making him feel like his progress had slowed to a crawl.

Stabbing the mangled mass of flesh to heal himself perfectly, he punched and kicked the tree. His fists had grown bulkier, and his wrist had widened. The top of his feet felt like a solid plate of bone, and the bottom felt like tanned leather. His shins were as solid as iron.

Freddy’s physique was the dream of many martial artists. And unfortunately, the changes had mostly stopped, with the only noticeable difference being his continuous weight gain and slight muscular growth.

It was the same with his strength in the gym. He could bench 150kg, squat 181.5kg, and deadlift 248kg. It was a massive improvement compared to what he could do less than three weeks ago, but given how much he’d grown the three weeks before that, it wasn’t as impressive a difference. In fact, most of it seemed to be from his muscle growth.

Mark still easily doubled his numbers, which was ridiculous for a one-star arch. But less than two months was absurd compared to the several years it took him to reach Freddy’s level.

But perhaps even more impressive than Freddy’s strength was his endurance. Freddy was a perpetual motion machine, slamming the tree endlessly without slowing down.

None of his moves were awe-inspiring. It was just plain low, mid, high, and straight strikes with a few basic variations. Even with his physique and training, martial artists who had trained against other people would still kick his ass.

But upon the foundation that Freddy was building a heavenly tower would stand. Maybe. Hopefully.

***

Given that he needed every damn shred of ether he could get a hold of, Freddy was gathering practically all the time. Mark was bewildered that Freddy could handle so much meditative gathering. Soul fatigue was torturous, and his ability to handle it so well showed how much willpower Freddy had built over the last two months.

While there was a large pool of water in the gym, that didn’t mean that there were many wisps to gather. After all, Freddy was far from the only water-affinity arch in the gym, and many used recovery techniques and such after sets, then gathered a bit to recover some lost essence.

This was a problem, but it wasn’t a massive one. If he focused enough, he could pull water wisps from further away, gathering more from outside the building.

However, as some reached closer, they drifted to the side. Freddy could only attract a portion of them into his soul, and the rest was lost to another arch who just happened to be gathering at the same time.

‘Well, that’s fucking annoying,’ he thought, sighing. But he understood that it was inevitable.

Suddenly, a deep voice came from behind Freddy and Mark, “Hey buddy, how about you take a hike?”

Freddy turned to face the burly man. It was a bald man that appeared to be in his thirties, standing around a head taller than Freddy, and although there was plenty of fat, it was undeniable that he was a mountain of muscle.

“Is there a problem?” Mark asked the man.

“Yeah,” the man confirmed, glaring at Freddy. “This little boy toy over here is stealing my wisps.”

Freddy scowled. “The fuck did you just call me, fatass?”

“Oh, you want it?” The man asked angrily, stepping forward. “How about you meet me outside?”

“Is there a problem?” This time, it was Steve who came to see what was happening.

The man turned to face the trainer and explained the situation. Steve merely raised an eyebrow and clarified, “Look, uh… You’re Hilbert, right? It’s uhm… We’re in, uh… We’re in a gym,” he reminded, exaggeratedly waving a hand behind him. “This isn’t a gathering ground. While some consider it rude, it’s not illegal to yoink a few wisps. They’re public property and free for anyone to take.”

“Bu—”

“There’s no buts. I don’t care. Harassing other members is against the rules here. I’m warning you, repeat this again, and I will revoke your membership.”

After a few seconds of hesitation and yet another hostile glance at Freddy, the man scoffed and walked away.

“Don’t be shy, Fred,” Steve said with a pat on Freddy’s shoulder. “If he causes trouble for you again, let me know.” And then, he also turned and left.

Mark was about to say something but was interrupted as Freddy shot him a devious grin. “Mark… Marky. Darling.”

“What?”

“What are the odds of that guy jumping me when I leave the gym?”

“Don’t worry,” Mark tried comforting him. “As long as I’m here you—”

“No, no, no, don’t get me wrong. It’s not that I’m scared of him,” he said, widening the grin on his face.

“Freddy,” Mark said with a roll of his eyes. “Really?”

“Yeah, what’s the problem?”

“That’s just… You know that’s really not like you.”

“What is?”

“I’ve noticed that you’ve…” Mark said with some hesitation. “You’ve changed a bit. And I’m not sure it's in the right direction. Don’t let your growth get to your head.”

“Dude,” Freddy said, shooting Mark an exasperated glance. “I was willing to let it go and be the bigger man, but no, this fucker comes in looking for a fight,” Freddy defended himself. “It wouldn’t be my fault if he just happened to catch me outside, capiche?”

“And you’ll consciously walk into that? Really? Why the hell would you do that?”

“I’ve never been in a fight,” Freddy clarified. “Well, not since I was a kid. And I don’t have any other way to get battle experience.”

Mark rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically. “A street brawl like that wouldn’t really count as battle experience.”

“I disagree.”

“Oh, really?” Mark said, anger in his voice. “If you want it to become real battle experience, he could always pull a weapon on you. You sure you want that?”

“You really think I’m going to die?”

“Do you think you’re…?” Mark started, then paused as he likely remembered that someone was watching Freddy. “Still, it’s dangerous.”

“Because I could get injured?” Freddy said mockingly.

“Ok, be honest with me. Is this because you just want to fight that man?”

Freddy grinned in response.

“You know what, just do whatever you want, but please,” Mark added, “don’t get kicked out of the gym.”

“I have two witnesses that he is the instigator,” Freddy said confidently. “No matter what happens, starting it will be his fault.”

***

Freddy sauntered out of the gym, confidently leaving without Mark.

It had been a while since he had been afraid of pain. And he still wasn’t. But he had to be honest. Getting into a fight made him a bit jittery. It wasn’t necessarily fear of getting hurt, but it was like… It would just be really embarrassing to get his ass kicked. Maybe it was his manly ego, but he couldn’t deny that pride was on the line here.

Still, he resolved to go through it. He needed battle experience, even if it was a street scuffle. He had to diligently stick to the basics of training, mainly because he didn’t and couldn’t understand why and when more complex moves were to be used. Seeing what he could do in action would be valuable.

Even if he got his ass handed to him, it would be worth it just for the experience.

But as he walked on, he realized the man was nowhere to be seen. Freddy saw him leaving the gym a while back, so it could be that he was either bored of waiting or took Steve’s warning seriously.

Freddy glanced around, observing the people walking around him until he—

‘Wait.’

This was out in the public. Getting into a fight wouldn’t be inconsequential, even for a brash ass like that. If he beat Freddy senseless out in broad daylight, he’d be reported and arrested for battery.

Given that he was getting close to his building, he had to do something immediately if he wanted a fight. With a smooth movement, as if that had been his plan from the start, Freddy turned and walked into a tight alley between his building and another.

It didn’t take him long to cross it halfway, and once he did, he stopped and turned around.

Nobody seemed to be coming that way, and Freddy moved to lean against the wall. Hiding in a back alley like this made Freddy feel like some sort of hooligan, and perhaps it wouldn’t be unfair to say that, at that moment, he genuinely was being a hooligan.

His idle thoughts were finally interrupted as the burly man, or rather, Hilbert walked into the alley.

“Hilbert, is it?” Freddy called, putting his hands into his pockets and desperately wishing he had a cigarette he could dramatically flick aside.

Rather than say anything, the man just walked toward him, approaching him as if he were heading to throw out the trash. Although the man’s confidence spooked Freddy, he wouldn’t leave this hubris unpunished.

The man strode forward, and as he stepped just before Freddy, he immediately pulled his fist back and readied to throw a straight.

‘Fuck!’

It didn’t take any time for Freddy’s lack of experience to kick in, and he didn’t know how to respond to something like this. It took him a second too long to catch the opening the man presented him with, and just as Freddy rushed forward to hit the man, the man’s fist flew out.

Dodging a punch or getting out of the way was so much more difficult than Freddy had ever expected, and he didn’t even manage to raise his guard, instead taking a giant fist directly to the face and tumbling back.

The man immediately rushed forward and kicked Freddy in the stomach, pushing him further away. The sheer rush of adrenaline got Freddy off the ground, and the man was taken aback. “You’re a fucking tough one, aren’t ya?”

Freddy wouldn’t agree with that one. His face felt like it had been caved in, and he felt like his internal organs had been rearranged. At that moment, he thought that perhaps getting into a fight with someone who went around picking them willingly wasn’t the brightest idea.

The man rushed forward again, and Freddy hesitated once more. Because the man seemed to be making the same mistake he made at the start. Nothing defended him from Freddy’s retaliation besides his relative size and reach.

As long as Freddy threw a jab at the man’s face or kicked at his stomach before he landed his punch, he couldn’t defend himself. So Freddy tried to go in for a jab, activating Flowing Strike. His fist landed on the man’s face, but presented with a moving target, Freddy mistimed his Flowing Strike and lost almost all the force.

Freddy’s preemptive attack completely failed to stop the man from swinging again at him, and, this time, through sheer panic, Freddy raised his left arm to defend himself. The man’s punch landed awkwardly, and he grabbed Freddy’s arm to throw him aside.

But before the man could do that, Freddy panicked again, swinging a wild haymaker with Flowing Strike at the man’s face. He didn’t seem to be expecting Freddy to be in a position to attack like that, so he had no time to react.

The Flowing Strike landed with a nasty crunching sound, and in the eyes of the completely disoriented Freddy, the man seemingly vanished out of sight. Glancing around to find the man, he looked down, only to find him unconscious. Only then did he register the influx of lifesteal and realize that he had accidentally landed a critical hit, knocking his opponent out with a single strike.

“Hahaha…” he laughed. “Hahahaha! Fuck you, asshole!” Freddy yelled as he kicked the man in the stomach and stepped back. His face and neck hurt like hell, and he brought a hand to touch his nose.

It was utterly shattered, and he was bleeding profusely.

Rather than wait for the mountain of muscle to get up, Freddy prepared to run away, but something unusual happened suddenly. An unexpected rush of essence flowed into his soul, and it wasn’t a small amount, either.

‘Is this that ‘unlikely event’ thing Madam mentioned?’ He asked himself. But he couldn’t stop his gaze from landing on the man.

As it did, his breath caught in his throat.

The man’s head was turned at an odd angle.

Freddy's breath released, but it was shallow.

There was a blue patch on the man’s neck, and it seemed to be spreading rapidly.

His hands shook, and he couldn’t stop his left from rushing to his mouth. “This… It can’t be… That easily?”

Suddenly, a figure almost too fast for Freddy to see fluttered down from above and picked up the man, and then again, vanishing up to the rooftop of the building.

“Wait!” Freddy yelled, stumbling forward. “Is he…? Oh, God.” His breaths came faster and shorter. “Oh my God.”

He pulled his shirt over his bloody head, hiding his face, and rushed out of the alley. He was right next to his building, so it didn’t take long for him to run in and reach his apartment. As he did, he locked the door behind him and immediately rushed to his kitchen.

The mass of flesh lay on the ground nearby, and Freddy grabbed the knife to take a stab at it. But as he saw the blade in his hands, he couldn’t keep hold of it, and it soon fell from his grasp, clattering to the ground.

His breathing grew even more difficult as blood rushed and pooled in his nasal cavity, and he found himself coughing it out, his vision turning blurry. With all he could muster, he gripped the kitchen knife and stabbed.

It was hesitantly at first, but the soothing sensation overpowered his reluctance, and he continued striking at it in a daze. He didn’t know how long had passed, but he had calmed down somewhat and was already fully healed.

Sitting on the ground, sweaty, covered in blood, and holding a knife, he could no longer hold back the tears. “I… I’m a murderer.”