1% Lifesteal

Freddy watched Thor's reaction. Just judging by the man's facial expressions, it was obvious in just what order the pieces were setting.

The man's eyes flashed with shock when he realized that, because Freddy's talent works on plants, he had access to practically infinite supreme-quality healing. Then his eyes shot wide open as he realized the implications this had for training and tempering.

Next, he frowned as he finally concluded that this made Freddy a walking organ printer, and that this secret wasn't one he could give away lightly to others. An appreciative, satisfied smile settled on his lips, and then quickly morphed into a devious grin as he started opening his mouth.

Freddy knew exactly what the man was going to say, so he beat him to the punch, "Sure hope Strata doesn't find out."

"Fuck!" Thor shouted. "You knew I was gonna make that joke, didn't you?"

Freddy chuckled.

Thor shook his head. "Holy shit, though. Yeah, uh…" He offered Freddy a handshake. "Grats. You have one of the… No, actually, you just have the most bizarre talent I've ever heard of in my life."

Freddy accepted the handshake with a rueful smile. "Thank you, thank you."

"But fuck, man. I'm so confused," Thor declared. "I was convinced you had to have a strength-boosting or at least some sort of physique-altering talent. How the fuck are you so strong?"

"A lot of steroids."

Thor cooed and, for a moment, appeared to be satisfied by the explanation, but his expression froze soon after and he frowned, quirking an eyebrow. "No," he simply said. "There's no way it's just that."

"Hmmm?"

"Look… uh… a lot of people use steroids. Hell, even I use 'em. They don't have a huge impact on your health when you're a three-star. But even if you've blasted a ton of potent stuff, that still isn't enough to get you this far. In fact, given what I've seen of you, I'm not confident I'm stronger than you. And I'm a peak three-star, dude. Without a dedicated talent, you really shouldn't be anywhere near as strong as I am."

"Well it wasn't only steroids," Freddy said. "I've also had my body reformed by a life-affinity arch to optimize it."

"That… Wow… That must have hurt like a motherfucker. But even then, I don't think that's enough."

"I also trained like a lunatic?" Freddy added with a quizzical tone, almost as if he were uncertain as to whether that was enough to make a difference. "With my talent, I can train my whole body several times in just a single day. I don't have to wait for my muscles to recover or even put much care into how I train. The type of things I did to myself would have undoubtedly ruined anyone else's body for good."

"No, even then," Thor said with a serious expression. His eyes flashed as he seemingly remembered something. "Were you particularly strong before you became an arch?"

"Nope. Not in the slightest," Freddy declared. "In fact, I was weak and sickly."

"Oh come on!" Thor shouted. "You're just pulling my leg at this point."

"What? Why would I lie to you about this?"

"Look, this can only be described in terms of natural talent. And I'm not talking a bit of natural talent, either," Thor declared. "You have an insanely high-grade physique. Like, really high-grade. Are you familiar with the empire's physique grading system?"

Freddy squinted and then gestured with a so-so motion. He'd heard of it, and was vaguely familiar with the concept, but he didn't know exactly how it worked.

When someone used the word "talent," they were usually referring to prime talents—the special powers granted by prime vestiges. But there was also natural talent, which simply referred to how naturally gifted people were at different aspects.

Even between mortals, some people could simply be considered gifted. Some people were naturally stronger and had a higher ceiling for muscle growth. Others were naturally more intelligent. Some people learned more easily, some were better at memorizing things, some had higher pain tolerance—and these differences weren't small, either.

When one became an archhuman, these differences became even more exaggerated. The potential of an archhuman used this "natural talent" as a foundation.

All sorts of things could be predicted about a person's growth by judging their natural talent while they were still mortals. This even included aptitude for essence manipulation.

Freddy was familiar with the fact that many clans and organisations used these variables to pick the optimal talent for their members. Most notably, Sophia's cult took this to a ridiculous extreme, forcing their members to remain as mortals well into their adult life to find the most suitable path for them.

As for himself, Freddy had never measured any of this, but he had guesses about his natural aptitudes.

He was pretty talented at essence manipulation and his physique was rather shit. He was more suitable to brute force paths than delicate strategic fighting. If he had to judge what kind of talent would be best for him with what he knew of himself at that moment, he'd be best suited for the fire affinity with a focus on essence manipulation or some form of damage-boosting talent.

Basically, mindlessly blowing shit up would have suited him perfectly.

But given what Thor was saying, this guess couldn't be correct. At least not in regards to his physique. But it couldn't be wrong, either. Sure, Freddy hadn't really eaten well and he certainly hadn't trained as a mortal, but even as a little kid, he was always scrawny, weak, and fragile. There was no way he was naturally talented at that…

Unless something had changed.

Thor hummed. "Are you familiar with what the different grades represent?"

"No," Freddy said. "I do know that there are a few and that they start at grade 0, but as for what that means, I am clueless."

Thor nodded and began his explanation. "When it comes to grading people's physiques, there are several subcategories, such as for strength, endurance, toughness, recovery, and so on, as well as a main grade to determine the overall quality of one's physique.

"The ratings start with grade 0. This isn't exactly a precise grading. It simply means that someone isn't particularly talented. You can see this as anything average or below. Then we have grade 1. Grade 1 represents people who are talented, but not exceptionally so. Maybe they excel at one thing while sucking at others or are just well-rounded without any clear weaknesses. Still, this can hardly be considered exceptional.

"Then we have grade 2. This is where the real talents are. Anyone with a grade 2 physique can be considered suited for physical combat. Just for reference, this includes less than 3% of the total population. Only one of every thirty people. After this, we have grade 3. Grade 3 is considered exceptional. These are people who are born to fight with their bodies.

"I'm not exactly sure how rare this grade is, but it's much, much rarer than grade 2. If you fight 500 people, you still might not encounter someone this talented. And then we have grade 4. This is generally considered to be the apex of physical talent. During the Pre-Rift Era, these people would have been world-class athletes, era-defining champions of whatever sports they trained in."

Freddy listened and nodded. "And what about me?"

Thor shrugged. "It's impossible to tell at this point. Unless I had a magical tool that could revert you back in time before you became an arch, we can only really judge how far you've pushed that talent, but not how great it was originally."

Freddy quirked an eyebrow. "You mean to say my talent has changed?"

"Well it obviously has."

He scowled. "Isn't the defining feature of natural talent that it's pretty much set in stone?"

"Not really," Thor said, snorting. "There's no easy way to grow your talent, granted, but yes. It can be done. Natural talent is just a way to estimate the ceiling of your abilities. Anything that moves that ceiling higher counts as an upgrade.

"For example, from what you've told me so far, you've had your body reformed. I'm assuming that included stuff like thickening your bones, rebalancing your muscles, and altering your tendon insertions. That has obviously moved your ceiling up."

"But you're assuming there's more to it than that?"

"Not assuming—I'm certain of it. You've either consumed some sort of ridiculous treasure or…" The man frowned and cupped his chin. "Huh. How were your achievements at the first star? If you had gathered a lot of latent aura, that could have definitely given your physique an upgrade."

Freddy was about to answer, but then, he froze.

His achievements at the first star? Oh, he had some achievements, alright.

Suddenly, he remembered seeing himself in the mirror for the first time after ascending to the second star. Just the difference in his looks was already incredible, and admittedly, he had definitely noticed that his physical capabilities were out of the ordinary, even before Sophia remodeled his body. "Oh, yeah, that's definitely it."

"Hmm? What did you do?"

Freddy chuckled and tapped Thor on the shoulder. "Let's just say I did some crazy stuff back then."

"Hmmm!?" Thor's eyes widened. "What kind of stuff could you have possibly done to make a sickly body capable of this!?"

"Naw, man, I think we've shared enough secrets for today!"n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

"You can't do this to me," Thor said pleadingly. "The curiosity is gonna kill me."

Freddy grinned. "You wouldn't believe me even if I told you. Anyway, this talent talk aside, what would you grade my physique as it is right now?"

Thor contemplated. "I don't know. We'd have to do some measurements to determine this. If you're willing, we can do so tomorrow."

"Sure thing," Freddy said with a laugh. "I'm pretty tired from all that happened today. I think tomorrow is fine."

After their conversation, they left the caverns with the hidden passage. Freddy visited Lucas and his mother, and Lucas again asked for help with moving their things. This time, Lucas came with him. The boy still looked a bit pale, but he was mostly fine.

They reached the apartment and slowly started packing the things. Freddy hadn't really noticed it, but the two of them had slowly left a notable mark. Their magnets were on his fridge. Their footwear was in the shoe cabinet. Their jackets were hanging in the hallway.

There were many small touches their presence had left on his living space.

Freddy ignored the bubbling feeling churning in his gut.

"Hey," Lucas called. "I think that's about it."

"What about the fridge magnets?" Freddy asked. "Also, you forgot to take those plants your mother bought. And that strange doll on the living room table. Oh, and the decorations in the kitchen. And that shit in the toilet—man, she's been buying a lot of random crap."

Lucas chuckled. "It kept her mind off of… you know. Anyway, just keep that stuff. Or throw it away. Given her habits we won't be lacking random crap around the house."

Freddy paused for a moment. "Sure… Sure… I'll probably throw it away later."

Lucas nodded.

Lucas and his mother didn't have many things, so it only took a single trip to take everything to Valhalla. The two of them offloaded the stuff they brought, and through the whole ordeal, Hellen shot Freddy nasty looks. He tried to ignore her, but deep down, he couldn't stop her judgment from striking at his core.

Just as Freddy was about to leave, Lucas called for him. "Hey… can I talk to you for a second?"

Freddy hesitated. He slowly nodded, and the two of them walked outside into the hallway of the building. Lucas slowly closed the door. He turned around and appeared to freeze. "I…" he tried, but his words failed him.

Freddy remained silent, waiting.

The boy's mouth quivered, and he reflexively raised his hand toward the scar still visible on his neck. "I… I nearly died today," he whispered, visibly stiffening as he thought back to what happened. A faint sheen of prespiration coated his forehead, and he breathed a bit heavily. His hand was shaking a bit as he slowly put it down.

Freddy mouth turned downwards. "I'm sorry about what happened," he said, a pained look flashing through his eyes. "I was being an idiot. I really shouldn't have played with your life like that. I'm really, really sorry."

The silence between them continued. Lucas looked like he was about to break down, but a resolved look crossed his eyes. He took a deep breath and calmed himself down. "My life… I've always believed my life would be a miserable one. To be honest, I expected to die young." He said with a pained chuckle. "This sucks," he said, his eyes tearing up. "What happened today really sucks." Then he looked up to meet Freddy's eyes. "But it's worth it."

A resolved look crossed Lucas's eye, and the boy appeared to straighten his back slightly. "You've changed my life," he said, clenching his jaw. "Because of your help, I am an archhuman. Because of you, I have a girlfriend. Because of you, I have the means to help my mother overcome her addiction. Because of you, I have a future."

Freddy was stunned by those words. Then, he laughed cynically. "Because of me, you nearly died."

"No. Because of you, I get to live."

"You're giving me too much credit here," Freddy said. "From the very start, I've only been acting on selfish desires. If it weren't for dumb luck, those selfish desires would have killed you. Killed you, you hear me? You would have died." An inexplicable anger flared in his heart. "I get why you're thankful to me, but don't… Don't do this. I'm a piece of shit, Lucas.

"I might have been a helpful piece of shit to you, but you're an exception to the rule. If you want to thank someone, thank yourself for being lucky. I'll see you around," he said as he turned around and quickly walked away.

"Wait!" Lucas called, but Freddy kept walking, not pausing for even a second.

He walked outside without greeting anyone, sat on his bike, and drove back to his building. There, he took the elevator up and entered his apartment, slamming the door on his way in.

It was deathly silent. As he walked forward, he could hear his footsteps echoing through the empty space. He walked into the living room. He immediately spotted the few trinkets those two had left behind.

The sight of it disgusted him.

He collected one thing after another and put it all in a trash bag.

Just as he was about to leave the apartment, he felt his body go numb, and the bag fell out of his grasp.

That kid was so grateful to him.

How would he react if he knew where the prime he was given came from? How would he react if he knew his girlfriend was someone Freddy was intending to profit off of?

And how would he react if he knew that, from the very moment the two of them had met, Freddy was only helping him to raise a useful pawn?

How would he react if he knew that Freddy had never truly considered the consequences his actions would have?

Lucas was stuck with Valhalla. A faction that was the target of numerous influences. A group of people with the most uncertain future out of anyone in Repentawa.

"Really… 'piece of shit' is underselling it." He laughed as he reached down to pick up the bag of items. But his grip was weak. His hand was shaking. He couldn't bring himself to throw it all away.

It had been so long since he'd lived with anyone that he'd forgotten what kind of warmth others could bring into his life. But he didn't deserve this. Not with the kind of person he was. Yet he couldn't bring himself to cast it all away.

Suddenly, he felt his legs grow numb. He fell to his knees. With a guilty scowl, he pulled the bag of items into his grasp and clutched it tightly. The bone-piercing cold encroached upon him, wrapping him into a tight cocoon of misery.

The pitter-patter of his tears hitting the plastic bag and his choked sobs echoed through the empty hallway.

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