1% Lifesteal

This was the first time that Freddy got to experience the food service in this building. As nothing but a brown stain remained on the plate where, minutes ago, a glorious steak had been, he felt incredibly salty that this event was hampered by the awkward atmosphere.

Mark had likely only agreed to be polite and had shown little enthusiasm at being there. Any attempt to start a conversation was about as effective as throwing an egg would be at shattering a concrete wall.

Eventually, the man decided that he had waited long enough that leaving wouldn't appear rude. "Thank you for the meal, Mr. Stern," Mark said, getting up from his seat. "I hope to see you around."

But not at work, Freddy added inwardly.

Before the mountain of muscle could leave, he asked him one final question. "Why… Why did you accept the job?"

"Hmm?" Mark turned around.

"It's just that, you know… judging by what you said, I assume you're quite well off," he said. "Don't get me wrong. I'm not prying or—"

"It's all right," he said. "It isn't some big secret. The gym owner owns a private training facility here. Unfortunately, he isn't selling access to it, but he does allow his employees entry."

"That sounds like a pretty good deal," he commented, nodding as if very impressed. "Honestly, if I were you, I'd do anything to keep the job."

"I told you already, my actions violate the—"

"But they don't," he said, interrupting the man. "You weren't on the job yet. Besides, it isn't like you're getting fired. You're voluntarily quitting."

Something flashed through the blond man's expression, and he responded with a slightly grimmer tone. "That is just a technicality. It's merely an excuse that doesn't change what I've done."

"But I've already forgiven you," he shot back. "And besides, it wasn't like it ever bothered me."

"It was a major mistake."

"But does that mean your only option is to quit?"

"With all due respect, Mr. Stern," Mark said, turning to face him and frowning, "why are you so insistent?"

That question made him wince, but before he could respond, the young man continued. "Don't worry, you won't be left without a trainer. I'm sure they'll find someone to replace me soon enough. Have a good night," the man offered as he again turned around and started walking away.

He hesitated for a long while as he watched the man walk away. Just as Mark was about to leave the kitchen and enter the living room, Freddy's mouth opened. "Is this because of my social status?"

Mark paused, "No, that's not the case, I…"

"Are you sure?" he asked, staring the man down for any signs of betraying the truth.

The man merely stayed quiet at that, his eyes shifting away slightly.

Freddy felt a pang of pain shoot through his chest. "I knew it," he whispered.

"No, I—" the man suddenly yelled. "I swear to God that has nothing to do with it!"

"Then why?"

Mark's eyes lowered to the ground as his jaw tightened. "I really don't care about that one bit. But I can't give you a satisfying answer since it's a private topic that, no offense, I have no interest in sharing with a stranger."

He stayed quiet for a long moment and then nodded. "Okay, I respect that. But," he said, staring the taller man in the eye. "Let me just ask you one more thing. If you're replaced, what are the odds that I will get someone who does care about my background?"

That made the man wince. "I don't know, but…"

"But they're not zero, are they?" he asked, already knowing the answer. "If you want to quit, I can't stop you, but I will be honest. I am…" The words felt like a clump of nails climbing up his throat. "I am scared shitless of this whole thing, and… for whatever it might be worth to you, I felt lucky to get you as my trainer."

"And why is that?"

"You didn't shout at me a single time," he said, blinking away hints of agony appearing at the corners of his eyes. "You didn't hit me. You didn't threaten me. You didn't demean me. Not a single time that we've interacted did you treat me like I was less human than you are."

The two men stared at each other for a few long moments. A flash of sympathy warred with the man's reluctance, and then, finally, Mark sighed. "All right," he returned and offered him a reluctant handshake. "I guess I can stick around a while longer."

An embarrassed smile flashed across Freddy's face. "And I'd be glad to have you."

"To be honest, I also felt lucky to get you as my client," the man said, smiling awkwardly.

"And why is that?"

"Because you aren't a spoiled brat, Mr. Stern."

He laughed slyly. "Please just call me Freddy, dude."

"All right. Call me Mark, too," he permitted, smiling. "But I will add that I still feel guilty about my actions today. Don't hesitate to ask if you need help with anything."

"I might just take you up on that offer."

Mark got ready to leave again, but then he paused. "Oh, by the way, do you wish to do another session tomorrow, or do you want to wait until the day after, when we officially start?"

He thought about that for a bit, but he didn't take long to decide. "I'd love to continue tomorrow."

"All right then! See you tomorrow at eight."

"Eight?" he asked. "Isn't that a bit late?"

"Hmm? Oh, I was trying to be considerate, but if you want, we can move it back to seven."

"Yeah, that's a bit better, I guess," he muttered, still slightly confused.

"Great! I'll see you in the morning!" Mark said, patting him on the shoulder, but he paused as he noticed the expression on Freddy's face. "Is something wrong?"

"Ah… No… Hahaha… Everything is A-okay," he said, too embarrassed to go back on what he said.

He had assumed that it was eight in the evening, but he gritted his teeth and accepted it.

The man was already doing him a major solid by sticking around. If he wanted to work out in the morning, then by whatever gods might be out there, Freddy would show up in the morning.

They shook hands and parted ways.

His sleep schedule had been atrocious for a while already, and coupled with all he had done today, he felt positively exhausted. It was 7 p.m., and he didn't want to mess up his sleep schedule further by going to sleep too early, so he waited for the next two hours, absent-mindedly flipping the pages of the water arts guide, really just admiring the incredible illustrations, until the clock hit 9 p.m. and he went to sleep.

***

Except for the fact that he forgot to turn on the alarm and showed up thirty minutes late, the second day went by much more smoothly than the first.

This was in no small part because of Mark's new approach.

If he was being entirely honest, his trainer's explanations bordered on condescending as he presumed that Freddy knew literally nothing, even some things that were common sense.

But hey, it was all justified because Mark was right on the money more often than he would like to admit.

They did back exercises today, with Mark very gently easing him into some deadlifting. As in, he brought a broom from storage to use instead of a metal barbell. They also did some rows and hyperextensions, with the man making sure he was fully in the loop before allowing him to start.

At one point, a rude guy walked past them, glanced at the minuscule weight he was lifting, and sneered at him.

Mark was about to call out to the man, likely to criticize him, but then Freddy loudly groaned, "Ugh, this cancer treatment is killing me, dude."

The man who had mocked him just a moment ago suddenly froze, and Mark smiled guilelessly, winking at Freddy and shooting him a double thumbs-up.

It wasn't possible to have perfect form without some training, but he needed to know what "perfect form" was before developing bad habits and a lopsided posture.

Next up were pull-ups, of which he could do precisely zero. But, with a special machine that supported his legs, he could kind of do it, but only after most of his body weight was already compensated for.

After they were done with the training, they changed into swimming suits and went into the pool, which was where they did their stretching exercises. Thankfully, there was a section where he could stand without swimming because this was his first time in water like this. Ever.

It was quite something for a water arch not to know how to swim.

The second day went by quickly, and he left the gym feeling sore but good overall.

When he returned to his apartment, he ordered some "fried jipur." Apparently, it was an avian species similar to chicken, even though it tasted many times better.

After that, it was roughly 11 a.m., and Freddy had precisely nothing to do for the rest of the day. He opened the water arts guide again, but it wasn't long until he closed it. Reading it just kind of made him feel depressed.

There was a crap ton of cool stuff he could do eventually, but as it stood, it was like an apple on the highest branch, and he didn't know how to climb the tree.

He sat on the carpeted floor of his living room, legs crossed. Again, it wasn't long until he felt too uncomfortable to maintain the position, so he moved to lie flat on the floor.

As he had a better feeling for water wisps after fiddling around the Netherecho for a while, he finally began proper gathering for the first time ever.

It was a lot more complex than he expected. He imagined water flowing—rivers, waterfalls, rain, faucets, anything that came to mind—and before long, his very soul echoed with the images, spinning like a vortex that pulsed into the Netherecho.

The star in his ethercosm roiled, and he felt it oscillate with calm energy.

One after another, like blue stars lighting up the empty night sky, wisps lit up and began flowing toward him. One reached him, effortlessly seeping into his soul, and it seemed like—

He gasped, getting up while holding his chest and breathing heavily. "Oh fuck, man."

That was like doing deadlifts with his soul. He felt like he'd been spinning in circles, and now that he had stopped, the world was still rotating around him.

Meditative gathering was much faster than running around the Netherecho. Not only that, but it also gathered wisps from the air and below the ground, pulling them toward the individual meditating.

There were restrictions, however. It only attracted wisps of one affinity, even if the person meditating had several, depending on which they were focusing on. It was also tiring and required a lot of practice. And finally, it couldn't be done for too long.

Freddy was surprised by how many wisps there had been, and he very cautiously decided to check out the Netherecho.

"I think it's about time to stop being surprised at everything."

He didn't know why or how, but the Netherecho was bursting with colorful wisps here. But there was something unusual as well.

There were no vestiges.

Could this apartment be warded to prevent them from appearing?

He knew this was possible from Basics of Gathering, but he didn't expect this apartment to have such a feature.

However, it only made things easier for him as he did the first thing that came to mind—his projection hopped from one wisp to another, and he continued his gathering.

***

Freddy was out on the streets. By this point, he was already beginning to recognize some people here.

Once he passed a kind old lady, he walked to the next bench, sat down, and entered the Netherecho.

It hadn't taken him all that long to squeeze his apartment dry, and now, a few hours later, he was out on the streets like some sort of addict, looking for more.

While his apartment was warded against the appearance of vestiges, the streets most certainly weren't. But he found that it wasn't a problem.

He appeared within the Netherecho, and the rainbow mist gradually receded around him, stopping at roughly a five-meter radius, marking the relatively short range he could move.

There were no vestiges in his vicinity, and one or two was the most he'd seen at once. It was likely that someone, or perhaps several people, cleaned the streets by destroying any that appeared.

He gradually went from one bench to another, entering the Netherecho and scouring it for goods. He couldn't move too far from his body since the rainbow mist prevented him from making it any further than his range permitted, so he settled for physically moving around to reach fresh areas.

It wasn't long until he noticed something peculiar. He moved and sat right next to the central building, the twenty-five-story high-rise in the center of the neighborhood.

Everywhere around it was packed with wisps of ether. There was only one explanation for why that was.

There is a passage in there…

This neighborhood was built around a passage. He didn't expect an entrance to the interspace in a place like this, but some things suddenly began making sense, such as why some people were walking around in armor and carrying weaponry.

While there were a lot of water wisps, compared to the thoroughly barren environment of his previous apartment, they were vastly outnumbered by air, earth, and loads of other miscellaneous ones.

After a day of gorging himself, he started wondering—wasn't this kind of easy? He could move quite fast with his projection, so cleaning the immediate range never took longer than ten or so minutes.

Basics of Gathering never even referred to what he was doing as a legitimate method. Slaughtering vestiges and reaping the mass of wisps was a different subject, but collecting stray wisps with his projection shouldn't be this efficient.

It wasn't long until these doubts turned into a strong sense of anxiety. Could he be fucking something up? Or perhaps he was overexerting himself by doing this? There was a strong feeling that he was ignorant of what he was doing, and he decided to try something.

During the morning before the moving crew arrived at his apartment, he felt quite tense and tired. Back then, he skipped practice with all his other abilities and focused on the Water Body tempering technique.

He counted, and when he spent all his essence on it, he could maintain it for approximately thirteen seconds.

Freddy calmed himself, got comfortable on the bench he was sitting on, and started using the body tempering technique.

One…

Two…

Three…

…

Fourteen…

Fifteen…

Sixteen…

…

Twenty-five…

Twenty-six—

At that point, his technique collapsed, leaving him feeling refreshed. Twenty-six seconds—precisely double the essence he had just a few days ago.

Rapid growth was expected for beginners… but this much?

He scoffed.

Truth be told, he had nothing to compare this against. Maybe he was even lagging behind where he should be. With the intent to pull his head out of his ass and stop getting so full of himself, he finally headed home.

Dinner, reading, hygiene, and finally, sleep. Everything else would come tomorrow.

***

So, this is when it kicks in…

Freddy woke up in pure agony, acutely aware of every muscle he had worked on in the past two days, and even some he thought he hadn't exercised at all, like his biceps.

Today, he would "formally" meet Mark, his trainer, and be provided his schedule. Matt would be here at noon, and it was 9 a.m., so he still had three hours until the arranged meeting.

First, he went into the toilet and drank a ton of water. As his essence had recovered, he began using his Water Body tempering technique without hesitation.

Some stage zero body tempering techniques had extremely minor effects. This was a standard feature. While the ether shells were empty, the ability lacked ties to supernatural concepts. Stage zero techniques were more or less just shortcuts for what could be done with pure essence manipulation. Well, theoretically, at least.

Only when an ether shell's true purpose was fulfilled did an ability evolve into something incredible. And that purpose was quite simple—trapping a personified ether construct within, either through beating them up until they were too weak to resist being sucked into the soul or merely convincing them to get in voluntarily.

Depending on what sorts of concepts an ether construct was connected to, the ability would evolve in different ways.

When he had first entered the Netherecho, there had been a vestige on his fridge—the one that nearly killed him. It looked like a glass orb containing shifting liquid within, and if he had to guess, that was likely a vestige connected to some sort of "liquid containment" concept.

Once his body tempering technique was ready to upgrade, Freddy could trap a vestige like that in the ether shell for the ability. The resulting effect would change his body tempering technique drastically.

The ability would likely evolve into one that tempered his body into being resistant to losing liquid, either through dehydration, bleeding, or maybe some other similar effect.

Naturally, not every vestige could be forced into every ether shell, and, interestingly enough, the vestige's actual affinity didn't matter that much.

For example, flow was something intrinsic to water, but not every water ability wanted or needed the water to flow. On the other hand, something like compression could be connected to myriad affinities, including water, so even if the vestige was of the air affinity, it could still slot into many water shells without a problem.

Preparing an ability for evolution was a long process requiring extensive practice, so body tempering techniques usually took a while to become useful. Luckily for him, he had one of the most favorable affinities for his current circumstances. Water comprised over 60 percent of a human's body and was essential for many functions.

And now, that water was circulating through his body, performing its function flawlessly.

His cells reestablished a balance between the extracellular and intracellular fluid. His blood circulated to every corner of his body, carrying water to organs and dehydrated muscles, and his cerebrospinal fluid supplied the necessary nutrients and oxygen to his nerve cells while washing away the waste.

He hadn't counted how long it lasted this time, merely focusing on the process within. Once he opened his eyes, he felt goddamn amazing. This feeling didn't last too long, but at that moment, his body, at least regarding water-related functions, was in an excellent state.

It wouldn't take long for that balance to go to shit again, but the more he used the technique, the more easily he would attain that state and the longer it would last.

Theoretically, eventually, his body would attain that balance permanently. But way before that happened, he would evolve the ability and add more to its function.

His muscles felt considerably less sore afterward, and he felt wide awake, as if he'd had a nice cup of coffee.

Speaking of coffee…

He went to the kitchen, ordering a long shot of espresso. Before it arrived, he showered and brushed his teeth.

The warm cup of delicious coffee was just the perfect thing to go with some reading, and before long, he finally flipped the last page of the water arts guide. Apparently, there was no information on body tempering techniques in this book, as there were so many that a different volume was required.

But it still left him with plenty to think about.

He could choose to be either a support or a martial artist. There was also the water caster option, but that was a rough path. If someone fully dedicated themselves to a pure path of water spells, there was a strong possibility that they would acquire an advanced affinity upon ascending a star. That advanced affinity, in this case, was the ice affinity.

Ice was naturally more suited for damage than water, so getting it was an excellent way to become a powerful mage—but it wasn't guaranteed. Not at the second star, at least. Even if he forged the perfect, optimal path, working for a decade on all the spells he could, the most he could reach was an 80 percent probability of getting the ice affinity.

Enough people got stuck at the second star, even with a decent path. Water-only two-star casters? Yeah, unless they had a talent or a second affinity to bail them out, they were probably screwed.

Water could do many cool things if one upgraded the abilities enough times and patched enough flaws—but why the hell would anyone waste their time doing that when they could simply do what water was best at?

However, there were many things to consider when making the decision.

According to the book, one must consider the "predisposition trifecta"—their affinities, natural talent, and prime talent.

His affinity and prime talent were ideally suited for martial arts, but that didn't mean that was the best choice for him. He still had to consider his natural talent. For one, his coordination was trash, and that was likely the number one requirement for learning martial arts—

Ringing interrupted his thoughts again, and he put the book down as he got up to open the door.

"Hello, Mr. Stern," said Matt, the assistant. "I hope you had your rest."

"I'm as fresh as could be," he chuckled nervously. "So, where are we heading first?" he asked, but he already knew that the gym was most likely their first location.

"Follow me," was all the man said as they left—but rather than head toward the gym, they walked into a different building altogether. He remained silent throughout the ordeal, and they walked to an elevator.

It took them to the seventh floor, and the doors opened to what appeared to be a clinic.

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