Tutorial 1.5
"Huh, let's try this one out. [Observe]."
Greg let out an annoyed groan, shoulders slumping as he tossed the pair of shoes over his shoulder without even looking. It landed with a clattering noise on the other side of the garage, landing near a pile of other rejected items.
"Okay, that was another bust," Greg muttered, running a hand through his bowl cut. It had been a while since he left the backyard. Slamming his fists against the tree had started getting boring after the leveling of his [Angry Straight] began moving at a crawl. Gaining three extra levels wasn't bad, though. The constant notification in the corner of his vision of his HP dropping every time he forgot to say the skill name did start to get annoying, though.
Anyway, Greg had been in his current position for a good thirty minutes, on his knees in the garage searching through storage boxes for some useful stuff to equip. After making up his mind to go on a mob hunt, Greg had decided to find something to give him an edge. After all, if he was an RPG character, he needed battle equipment, right?
You'd think so, at least.
All of this is random crap. Boosts to ballroom dancing? Hockey? Swimming? It was a little annoying that after all of this work, he had barely found anything useful, with only three items giving him any sort of combat-related boost. Greg needed some more clothes that would give him something combat related because he had no intention of using up his extra stat points until he was at least level five, with at least eight points in reserve. I want to fight some guy, not beat him in a dance-off or a triathlon.
Shaking his head, Greg turned his attention back to the massive set of boxes in front of him with various words written on the side of each. "Why did Mom even buy this stuff? I never even got into any of these clubs."
Rolling his eyes, he thrust a hand into the box closest to him, his other hand pushing random items to the side as he continued to search the storage container. He let out a sigh as more miscellaneous items spilling out as he did so. "And Mom told me she organized all this last month. How am I supposed to find anything when she doesn't clean up?"
Greg continued rooting around in the box, barely noting the various items he pulled out. "Huh, what's this... ewwww?"
Hanging from his fingers like a used napkin were a pair of purple leg warmers, obviously not brand new. Greg grimaced at the items for a few seconds before his curiosity got the better of him. "Uhhh… [Observe.]"
Greg stuck his tongue out as he finished reading the box, dropping the pair of used leg warmers with a disgusted shudder as his mind went wrong places with the [Flexibility] skill and his mother. "...I'm never sleeping again."
Forcing down the bit of bile he could feel creeping up his throat, Greg turned back to his search, albeit with much less enthusiasm than before. After a few minutes more, he grinned as his fingers grabbed hold of two very familiar items. Pulling them out with a victorious grin, Greg let out a self-satisfied chuckle. "Observe."
"Awesome!' Greg let out an excited cheer, finally finding something useful to add to the rest of his equipment, as well as the two ready-made skills that came with it. "Man, it's been a long time since I wore these bad boys. Better late than never. [Equip.]"
The black gloves and shoes vanished in a blink of blue light and appeared on Greg's body, his current shoes disappearing off his feet in place of the kickboxing shoes.
"Whoa, this is awe- uggggghh," Greg raised a gloved hand to his forehead as a sudden burst of information suddenly rushed into his head. Information like how to make a proper fist, how to throw a correct cross, how to move quickly on his feet, etc.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
He shook his head, blinking rapidly.
"That was just plain weird," Greg mused to himself as he shook his head, trying to regain his bearings.
The sensation hadn't hurt, not really. It had just been uncomfortable and… weird. It was basically the mental equivalent of getting slapped in the face with a fish.
"At least, I got some new skills," Greg crowed, a smile on his face. Curling his hands into fists, Greg struck a karate pose to test out his new knowledge, his body instinctively correcting his positioning and foot placement to something much more plausible to use in a fight.
Greg's smile faded a little at the sudden shift in his body, weirded out by how he hadn't really meant to move that way. "Huh… that's really gonna take some getting used to."
Glancing down at his new equipment, Greg shrugged off the weirdness, deciding on a whim to try out a new trick he had discovered about half an hour ago. "[Send to Inventory.]"
His newly equipped-items vanished in another tiny flash of blue, leaving his feet and hands bare. As soon as the items vanished, Greg shook his head again, suddenly feeling somewhat more awkward in his own body. He moved into a fighting stance again and frowned as he felt a bit less steady on his feet this time, his fists a bit less firm. Greg frowned, pursing his lips. "...weird. [Inventory!]"
Two separate boxes appeared in front of Greg, one with a somewhat three-dimensional image of him with his arms and legs spread out like that Leonardo da Vinci sketch.
The Vesuvian man? Greg shrugged, not really caring that much. Yeah, something like that.
The second box was a simple grid with five of the boxes already filled up. "Looking good, me." Greg snapped his fingers at the image of himself that simply stared forward blankly.
Shaking his head again, Greg pulled himself to his feet, a slight smile on his face. "Okay, just gotta take care of one more thing before it's time to go kick some butt."
His eyes roamed the garage until they landed on what he was looking for. Grimacing, he let out a sigh. "Let's go get this over with."
- o - o- o – o – o – o – o -
- o - o- o – o – o – o – o -
"Ow!"
-5
"...ow!"
-5
"...ow!"
-7
"...shi-ow!"
-5
"...ow!"
-9
"...shit! Shit! Shit! Ow!"
Hissing in pain, Greg waited for the throbbing sensation to dissipate one more time before he raised the object in his hand high. His other hand remained where it was, splayed out flat as it rested on top of the garage workbench.
A part of Greg felt like this wasn't worth it.
The other part didn't care.
Winding back his arm, Greg Veder literally brought the hammer down, the head slamming into his wrist with all the force he could muster.
-12 [Critical Hit!]
"Motherf-! Goddamn it!" Cradling his wrist, Greg held back tears, waiting for the pain in his hand to fade. Eyes closed, Greg began to groan as he rocked back and forth on the stool he was sitting on, insulting himself in his head for this stupid idea. He was so caught up in cursing his own dumb idea, he barely heard a soft 'ping!'
In fact, he didn't hear it until it repeated a second time.
Greg opened his eyes, all his pain forgotten as a bright grin spread across his face.
"Worth it."
Spoiler: STATUS