Freddy had focused entirely on growing Puddle of Blood. As he neared its completion, his dilemma was resolved—he decided to go with Crimson Mercury. There were many reasons to choose it over Rich Blood, but the one that mattered the most to him was the essence efficiency.
Although he had made up his mind, he still didn't have Crimson Mercury and, thus, couldn't truly use the blood affinity for anything of value. But after a month of observing the party in action and seeing numerous others fighting the gorels, he was confident that he wouldn't need it either way.
Stepping out into the passage realm by himself distinctly differed from being there with the others. Thankfully, it was day, but if anything, that made him anxious, as that meant there was a risk that it would suddenly turn into nighttime at any moment.
There was an air of danger and uncertainty; his back felt more exposed than ever before. As soon as he made his way past the beginning of the green zone and stepped out of range of anyone's sight, he took a small ball out of his storage ring.
It was the perception-boosting pill. This thing was quite big, so swallowing it wouldn't be easy. This was also his first time taking one, and he hoped it wouldn't cause any problems for him. Still, even if it did, there was always his talent to make those problems disappear.
He pulled a bottle out of his rucksack and took the pill. Nothing happened. He looked around, trying to see whether anything about his perception had changed. The path he was walking down had the signature smooth stone beneath his feet and was surrounded by tall, jagged rock formations. The boulders surrounding him were large and looked unstable, with numerous cracks and small protrusions that cupped dead leaves and had patches of grass sprouting scattered around.
He observed the moss near the bottom, combing his fingers through its tender, furry surface as he took it in. He didn't feel much due to his gloves, but he did hear the smooth scraping sound of rugged fabric rubbing against the surface.
The changes came slowly, but as they did, they arrived in sudden bursts. The nondescript mossy surface grew clearer, even through the touch of the glove. He jumped back as he suddenly heard metal clashing and gorels screaming. It was distant. So distant that he usually wouldn't hear anything from that far away.
As he backed off and looked around, he found all his senses cranked up. The loamy soil, verdant, fresh gust, and weak notes of burning fur, flowing blood, and rotting corpses filled his nostrils. The sounds in the distance grew increasingly pronounced, and he felt more confident that he could tell which direction they were coming from.
There was a party of three—no... a party of four—heading down another path just behind the rock formation he stood before. He could hear their armor clanking, the cloth rubbing, and weapons clattering.
The stone before him suddenly looked more textured—just looking at the surface made him keenly aware of which parts were more fragile than others.
He gulped.
That was... a lot more potent than he expected, in more ways than one. His back and ass were sweating profusely, and he felt severely uncomfortable in his armor. Each imperfection, every bump and turn that didn't perfectly sit against his sensitive skin, was like a hotspot on the surface of his body, making him shift awkwardly as he tried to make the feeling go away.
The back of his head suddenly started hurting, and soon enough, it felt as if drills were piercing his temples. His breathing sped up. A high-pitched buzzing filled his ears. His eyes shifted around involuntarily, making him lose his sense of direction and worsening his dizziness.
He swiftly pulled the machete from the storage ring and ran to the closest plant. The poor sapling never knew what hit it. One moment, it was growing up to become a mighty tree; another, it was not.
But his wanton slaughter didn't end there. He cut grass, trampled moss, and brutally plucked flowers from their lofty perch upon the stone walls surrounding him. After a while, the side effects subsided, and he could finally breathe.
Thinking back on that man, August—the person who had told him what this medicine was—the man hadn't actually known what this pill was immediately. He only figured it out after taking a good whiff and analyzing it, likely through his talent.
He did say that the medicine was potent. He also clarified that it had severe side effects. But Freddy hadn't been expecting something this intense. It was possible that these pills either weren't meant to be consumed this way or that he needed to become at least a three-star to safely take them.
Well, that was none of his concern. But it was good to know that he was right to take them somewhere safe where he could remove the side effects. Now that he felt fine, he couldn't stop a grin from spreading on his face.
Their effect was truly magnificent.
He got up and continued down the path. Soon enough, he heard rustling. He climbed up a nearby rock and looked in the direction the sound was coming from. Not too far from where he was, right past the rocky formation and inside the woods, a gorel guard was scouting the area, kicking up leaves and sniffing around.
He would have never spotted the black fur of the creature lurking in the shadows under normal circumstances.
So, without further ado, he started walking toward it. Moving across the uneven rocky areas wasn't recommended due to the danger of rocks crumbling beneath his feet, which could easily result in a broken leg or two, depending on how unlucky he got.
But as he traveled forward, he found it trivial to distinguish between rocks that "seemed" unstable and ones that didn't. It was hard to tell exactly what his perception was going off when he sensed this stuff, but he felt pretty confident. Too confident, in fact, as he stepped on a rock that wasn't entirely stable and nearly tripped as it shifted below his feet.
Okay, this pill might have been potent, but it was no perception talent. Naturally, it had limits. So, as he proceeded, he did so with caution.
Eventually, he passed the unstable ground, stepped onto firm soil, and walked into the thicker forest beneath the shadowy canopy.
He immediately took the flashlight from his storage ring, making it appear in his hand with a quiet popping sound of air rushing out of its way, and turned it on to scout the area for other gorels. He couldn't hear or see anything else, but the gorel guard was already sniffing the air, clearly having sensed his approach as it shifted around like a hyperactive, bulky dog and checked every direction, wheezing and growling.
Freddy put the flashlight in his left hand, keeping it turned on in case the day suddenly became night, and pulled out the dagger, holding it in his right. The weapon was highly menacing, looking jagged and uneven. It was clear that getting stabbed by this thing would leave complex, nasty injuries, and that was likely intentionally done to further attune the weapon to the concept of bleeding.
If he was being honest, daggers weren't his thing. Weapons weren't his thing in general. But he could easily hold the handle in a reverse grip and still punch stuff. He didn't have to use the dagger just because he held it in his hand.
And there was another thing he had realized. This wasn't really a weapon. Thinking back on his fight with Janhalar, equipped with the knowledge that it could transfer its effect on any weapons conjured, he quickly realized that the man had never used the dagger directly. In fact, Freddy had barely even realized that the man had been holding the dagger at all.
This likely meant that this wasn't meant to be used to stab but as more of a glorified dagger-shaped wand.
With the flashlight and knife both in reverse grips, ready to be used, he stepped forward until the gorel finally pinpointed his position and started running at him.
When it reached him, he kicked it, not even using Flowing Strike or Hydraulic Flex. The thing took his foot head-on and was knocked back. As soon as it reoriented itself, he kicked it again, this time in the back of the head. It didn't get up this time, merely whimpering and howling as he brought his foot down and cracked its neck. A rush of ether flowed into his star, making it grow just a tiny bit.
That whole thing about not needing Crimson Mercury? Yeah... After a month of watching others fight these things, he had made an undeniable conclusion. He was way overqualified for this realm.
"Tweeheeeeeeleleleleve fuuuckin' K...! Ah, ah, ah, twelve mothafuckin' K! Uh!" and continued as he started his workout.
A massive plastic container rested beside the bench he was working out on. It was a once-empty milk jug that he had repurposed, filling it to the brim with energy drink that he sipped on as he worked out.
He kept singing to himself as he placed his weights on the barbell. After placing 625 kg, he finally started the set. Lifting it once, then twice, he gathered the willpower and strength to push it a third time, finally overcoming his limit.
While this was impressive, he hadn't let it get to his head. After all, Mark could lift more than this, even back when he was a one-star. He really missed that guy sometimes.
Still, he was making steady progress, and as long as he kept at it, he'd keep growing. The beast steroids were still in his Storage Ring, but he hadn't gathered the balls to try those.
As he moved on from the bench, he went to the squat rack, where he could easily knock out 900 kg already. "Twelve K, yeah yeah, twelve K, yeah yeah," he kept singing, clearly annoying the guy who was working out near him. But he was in too good of a mood to let that stop him. "Twelve K, yeah yeah, twelve K, yeah yeah, twelve K, yeah yeah, twelve K, yeah yeah," he continued. "Twelve K, yeah yeah, twelve K, yeah yeah, twelve K, yeah yeah, twelve K, yeah yeah." And just kept going. "Twelve K, yeah yeah, twelve K, yeah yeah, twelve K, yeah yeah, twelve K..."
"Will you please shut the fuck up!?" the man beside him yelled. "You shithead!"
"Oh, sorry," he said apologetically. "I wasn't..."
"What the fuck is wrong with you!? Huh!?" the man yelled, getting up and angrily throwing a dumbbell to the ground, rushing at him and getting well into his personal space. "Do that one more time," he threatened while pointing a finger at his face, "and I'll shove my foot up your ass!"
"Okay, I'm seriously sorry, and I'll stop, I promise," he said again, but he really couldn't stop himself from still smiling. It wasn't like he felt threatened by this guy.
The man, however, clearly didn't enjoy the look on his face. "Do you have a problem with me?" he asked, getting even closer. "Meet me outside, and we'll fix things up; how's that sound?"
"No, I'm..." he started, suddenly deflating a bit.
"What, now you're scared?"
"Relax," Freddy insisted. "There's no need to get violent. I said I'm sorry," he reminded the man, his expression darkening as his right hand twitched.
"Stay in your fucking lane, pussy," the man shot one final time as he finally retreated to continue the exercise.
He merely shrugged and walked over to the squat rack. There, he took a damn big gulp from his energy jug as he prepared himself for the set. One weight after another went up on the barbell. 300 kg... 400 kg... 500 kg...
The man paused a bit as he glanced at what he was doing.
600... 700... 800... 900...
1,000... 1,100...
1,200 kg.
He took yet another gulp from his jug and got under the bar. Then he started the set. He immediately felt like buckling under the insane weight. After all, this was 300 kg above his maximum... when he wasn't using Hydraulic Flex.
As he triggered the ability, it appeared like his load had halved. With all the focus he could muster, he dropped into a low squat and pushed himself back up. His muscles sounded like rubber gloves being stretched to their breaking point, and he did it again, finishing the set on the sixth rep.
By the time he put the barbell back on the rack, the guy was nowhere to be found.
His body hurt like hell, and he felt thoroughly exhausted. Still, he couldn't stop chuckling. "That was so worth it."
***
After finishing the workout, heading home, and cleaning himself up, Freddy had a massive dinner and decided to rest a bit. He was tired. His body ached due to his dumbassery, and he had no way to use his talent, so he'd have to cope with it.
The time gradually passed, and he had to take another energy drink to kick himself back into focus. While he would never grow sick by abusing these things, there seemed to be a limit to the utility. Time gradually passed as a reluctance to do anything seeped into his bones.
Soon enough, the clock ticked to 9 p.m. It was already an hour past the time he usually visited the library. That was a good habit he wanted to keep up, so he forced himself to get ready, get up, and walk outside.
As he left the building to visit the library, he suddenly changed his mind. That day... frankly, hadn't he just achieved something he had been dreaming of for the longest time? He had come mighty far from his days back in the small studio apartment, and if that Freddy could see him now, he'd spit in his face.
Fuck the library. No nerd shit for that evening. It was time to celebrate, he decided, as he went for a quick shopping trip.
A thousand-dollar slim-fit white shirt? Why not? Tacky, honestly ugly torn jeans? They cost two thousand dollars, and the logo of Habuji, a massive luxury clothing company, was front and center. Into the shopping cart they went.
Wrapping the trip up with the relatively frugal $500 sneakers, which were a slight backtrack when he realized just how much he was spending, he put the stupidly wasteful clothing on and headed to a place he had been aching to go to for the longest time.
It was as if a kaleidoscope of butterflies was fluttering around his heart. He felt nervous and had to psyche himself up.
Soon enough, he appeared before the nightclub.
And then awkwardly shuffled into the long line.