Bully Lord

Part-29

A determined glint shone in James' eyes as he raided his closet. The gym class memory had ignited a spark of hope, and he was determined to exploit it. He emerged moments later, clutching a plump pillow and a length of sturdy rope.

In his room, James surveyed the space, his mind already formulating a plan. He secured one end of the rope to a sturdy fixture on his wall, the other end tied firmly around the pillow, transforming it into a makeshift punching bag of sorts. He pulled on the rope experimentally, satisfied with its tautness. This wouldn't be easily dislodged.

Now came the real test.  He squared his shoulders, took a deep breath, and delivered a tentative slap to the pillow.  The blue window flickered to life, but the message displayed wasn't what he'd hoped for:

**"Weak Slap Detected. Thunderclap Not Activated. Minimum Aggression Level: 80%."**

Disappointment lanced through him.  Of course, it wouldn't be that easy.  He needed aggression, and slapping a pillow with kid gloves wouldn't cut it.

He closed his eyes, picturing Ryan's smug smirk, the memory of Tony's menacing approach.  Anger, hot and potent, bubbled up within him.  He clenched his fists, feeling a surge of power course through him.

With a primal yell, James unleashed a thunderous slap on the pillow.  The force of the blow sent the makeshift punching bag swinging wildly.  This time, the blue window displayed a more satisfying message:

**"Thunderclap Executed!  Thunderclap Skill EXP + 1"**

A triumphant grin split James' face.  It worked!  He could train, hone his skills without resorting to random acts of violence.  He could channel his anger, his frustration, into something productive.

He launched into a series of thunderclaps, each blow echoing through his room in a satisfying rhythm.  With every hit, the blue window ticked upwards, the number beside his "Thunderclap Skill" climbing steadily.  He wasn't sure if this was the most conventional training method, but for now, it worked.

As he continued his unorthodox training session, a new thought struck him.  Could he modify the technique?  Could he develop variations of the slap, each with its own unique properties?  The possibilities swirled in his mind, fueling his determination.

He glanced at the blue window, the number beside his "Thunderclap Skill" now a respectable 18/100.  The road ahead was long, but for the first time, James felt a flicker of hope.  He was on his way.

Exhaustion clawed at James' muscles as he delivered the 25th thunderclap. Each blow resonated with a satisfying thud against the pillow, but the once effortless movement now felt labored. Sweat beaded on his forehead, blurring his vision slightly.  He glanced at the blue window, a sliver of hope battling the growing fatigue.  His "Thunderclap Skill" had climbed to a much more respectable 34/100.

Just a bit further, he thought, gritting his teeth. He could almost taste the accomplishment of reaching the upgrade point.  But a nagging feeling of weakness began to creep in.  His arms felt like lead weights, and a dull ache throbbed in his chest.  He vaguely remembered the code displayed earlier about Stamina being used with each thunderclap.  Had he overexerted himself?