Greg Veder vs The World

Tutorial 1.6



Tutorial 1.6

"Hey, Fingers, you seeing this?"

Dexter "Fingers" Clark glanced up from where he sat, slumped against an alley wall, and looked in the direction his friend, Knives, was gesturing in.

The sight was enough to make him raise an eyebrow.

Fingers had seen his fair share of odd-looking figures. It kind of came standard once you became a Merchant. You saw weird shit all the time. Sometimes, it was cape shit. Capes were always a little bit off.

Everyone knew that.

Sometimes, it was just regular people being weird as fuck.

In this case, it seemed more like the second.

As Fingers spotted the person walking towards them, he was already suspicious. This side of the Trainyard belonged to a few specific types of individual. Namely, the homeless, drug addicts and gang members. Unsurprisingly, members of the Archer's Bridge Merchants were usually all three.

It was well understood that people in this part of Brockton Bay had certain common identifiers. No one that clean and in clothes that new was in this part of town because they belonged here, no matter how weird they looked.

Fingers snorted. "Yeah, I'm seeing this. It ain't just you."

"Whaddya think it wants?"

"It's a he, Knives."

"The fuck I care? I want his hoodie." Knives punctuated his sentence by spitting up a thick wad of phlegm right at Fingers' feet, causing the larger man to send his partner a dirty look. "And his pants too."

"I mean, he doesn't look like your size," Fingers muttered, pulling himself to his feet. "Probably outweighs you too."

"You think I wanna wear that GAP-looking shit?" Knives shot back, baring stained and dirty teeth in an annoyed grimace.

Fingers snorted at Knives attempt to look threatening, fixing the black man with a glare of his own. "You got on a ratty-ass wife-beater that stinks like shit. those jeans are dirty as fuck and your shoes are torn all to hell. You need clothes more than I do."

It wasn't even an exaggeration. What they both had on, ratty and stained as it was, was par for the course when it came to most of the Merchants. Oversized, or undersized, stained or mismatched, it didn't really matter. They wore what they could.

"Who the fuck asked your horse-looking ass?" The tiny man raised a hand to scratch at his patchy beard, clearing his throat roughly as he did so. "Fuck it, I say we find out what this fuck wants, then we jump his ass, take his wallet and sell the rest of his shit."

Fingers shrugged, uncaring.

"Sure, why not?" It's not like he was the type to turn down a chance to make money.

The bundled-up figure walked closer to the two Merchants, allowing Fingers to get a good look at him. With him wearing a hoodie, a pair of goggles, and a scarf over his face, not to mention the odd gloves, shoes and sports pads he had on, it was hard to tell what the person actually looked like. For a moment, Fingers was wary. The thought that this could be some new cape looking to pick a fight flashed through his mind and his fingers clenched into a fist.

*...uh, Hey."

With dawning surprise, Fingers realized that the figure huddled up in these clothes was a kid.

Then, the kid spoke again.

"Uhhh… um, do…" Fingers raised an eyebrow at the cracking voice, expression growing more incredulous as he saw the kid's hands tapping at his sides in a nervous tic. "Do… do you guys know where I can… uhh… get some… uhhh… get some... some drugs?"

The last word came out in a conspiratorial whisper, the boy leaning in slightly as if anyone in the Trainyards would bother listening in.

Fingers snorted again, turning his head down to laugh into the back of his hand. "Fuckin' first-timers, man," the gang member muttered to himself, wiping his nose with wrist.

The tattooed man shot a glance over at Knives, raising an eyebrow at the way the tattooed man eyed the boy in front of them. He could tell his friend was getting ready to pounce, just by the way his thin fingers trailed over his switchblade as if petting a small animal. Putting a hand on his partner's shoulder to get his attention, he jerked his thumb over his shoulder, giving Knives a signal to hang back while he did business.

Knives shot him a dark look, his eyes flicking back to the kid for a second, before finally nodding and turning the corner, stepping deeper into the alley.

Shaking his head, Fingers turned back to the kid, flashing the twitchy-looking brat his nicest smile before he got it in his head to run away. He leaned forward, still smiling as warmly as he could. "So, kid, what are you loo-"

"[Angry Straight!]"

Before Fingers could finish the sentence, a gloved fist slammed into his stomach.

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

Dexter "Fingers" Clark

Lv 4 Merchant Gofer (Junkie)

HP: 90/120

Greg blinked in surprise as he watched the gangster's HP fall. 30 points! Awesome!

After equipping a thick hoodie that granted him an extra ten HP, a pair of sports goggles that unlocked his [Reflexes] ability, and a scarf that gave him +2 to [Feinting], all in addition to his kickboxing equipment, he had decided to go hunting for a bad guy to punch.

Setting out towards the Trainyards was a great idea for anyone looking to get into trouble and a perfect place to beat up some gang members. Once the system has confirmed his great idea by granting him a free WIS point, Greg was dead set on heading down there.

Setting out to the Trainyards around three o'clock in the afternoon was less of a great idea, considering Merchants tended to be nocturnal creatures. Despite all that, after walking around the Trainyards for a bit, it didn't take Greg all that long to find a couple of them.

After confirming with his [Observe] that these were actually Merchants, and not just two guys down on their luck, Greg struck.

Specifically, with his [Angry Straight].

The man stumbled back, a look of pained shock on his face as he clutched his stomach. Greg brought his fists up, ready to react if he moved at him. Yeesh, I thought that would at least knock him down!

The taller, lankier man didn't fall, instead collapsing back against a wall with an audible groan.

His friend, the smaller man barely up to Greg's shoulder, rushed out of the alley. His eyes flickered to his fallen partner before those same twitchy, bloodshot eyes darted over to Greg. In a burst of motion, he lashed out, a visible glint in his right hand.

Greg recoiled in pain, hissing as he felt something slash the arm of his hoodie. Despite the heavy blend hoodie supposedly granting him +10 to health, that extra ten points didn't seem all that useful right now. He bit down another shout as the man lunged forward again, the tip of the blade jabbing him in the stomach.

-8 hp

-12 hp

[Light Bleeding] Debuff applied

1 HP every five seconds for the next minute.

Greg's eyes widened as he felt the familiar warm, sticky sensation of blood as it hit his skin. The teen scrambled backwards, screaming out "Power Sprint!" at the top of his lungs. In a burst of yellow, he ran back a few meters, surprising the short man in front of him with both the surge of speed and the flash of light.

"Knives" Freeman

Lv 6 Merchant Slasher (Junkie)

HP: 170/170

Crap! Crap! Crap! Greg's face paled. I don't have enough Will to Angry Strike them both to zero.

"You little shit! Fuck you think this is?" Knives rushed forward again, cursing up a storm as he bared his rotten teeth at Greg. "I'll fucking cut you! I'll rip your fucking guts out!"

Greg dodged the first lunge, but let out a small shout as the second managed to scrape his side.

-5 hp

His breathing coming rapid and quick, Greg jumped back and shouted out "[Inventory: Hammer!]"

Said hammer flew from Greg's hand, appearing out of nowhere, straight toward the head of the Merchant. Simply out of raw luck, the man dodged, his head whipping to the side as the heavy tool rushed by his unprotected cranium. Greg winced as his attack missed. Crap on a cracker. I mean, I didn't think that would even work but still… crap. Why did I only bring one?

The gangster whipped back to Greg, surprise and a hint of fear mixing in with his anger. "What the fuck? The fuck is this shit?"

Greg didn't waste a single moment to even glance at the pop-ups. "[Power Sprint!] [Angry Straight!]"

His body and fist glowing a bright yellow, Greg rushed forward. Enhanced by his momentum, his hand plowed into the man's chest, knocking him back with a powerful blow.

"Knives" Freeman

HP: 120/170

Knives bared his teeth and grunted as the hit rocked him, the tiny man powering through the strike with a rabid fury. With a snarl, he lunged forward again, swinging wildly at Greg with his switchblade.

Greg's wrist snapped up, the back of his hand catching the underside of the gangster's wrist and striking it downwards. The black man's eyes widened as his knife fell from his grip and clattered down the street.

Breathing heavily, Greg didn't let up, driving his fist into the man's face and doing the same with his other before screaming out, "[Angry Straight!] [Angry Straight!] [Angry Straight!]" His fist glowed as he continued striking the man, interspersing regular hits in between his uses of [Angry Straight] and pummeling the man with a blistering six-hit combo. A heavy sensation began to crawl up Greg's muscles and his eyes widened.

Stepping back from the gangster, Greg shouted out "[Power Sprint!] [Inventory: Gatorade!]" As he ran a few feet away, a bottle of the flavored water appeared in his hand. Twisting off the gap, Greg gulped the drink down, not even bothering to avoid spilling any on his clothes.

Gatorade - Blue Raspberry

+ 20 Will

+ 2 to Will/HP regen for the next five minutes.

Greg let out an audible sigh as he literally felt the energy returning to his muscles, a big burst of energy followed by smaller trickles.

"What the hell?" The unarmed criminal barked out, eyes wide with confusion at what just happened.

"Forget you saw that! [Angry Straight!]" Greg struck out with a wild swing, plunging his fist into the man's stomach with a yell.

"Knives" Freeman (K.O.)

HP: 0/160

+ 150 XP

+ $19.50

+ [Bloody Switchblade]

Greg blinked, his breathing still heavy as he stared at the fallen thug. The tiny man lay slumped on the ground, bruising already visible on his face.. "Is he done?" Greg voiced aloud, while in his head, he couldn't help but wonder, Is he dead?

Tentatively, he stretched his foot out, poking the Merchant with the tip of his toe. As Greg's foot touched the man's side, he let out a groan, the sound nearly causing Greg to jump out of his skin.

The teenager held his breath. 1… 2… 3…

The Merchant didn't move.

"Yes!" Greg's hands went up in the air, his fingers on both hands forming into a "v". "I beat my first bad guy! Operation: Unlimited Power is a go!" With a relieved sigh, the teenager glanced back down at the unconscious thug, simply giving a shrug at the sight. Someone'll find him. It's not like he's dead or anything.

As he turned around to head back home, Greg suddenly stopped after he realized that he hadn't received either a quest notification or a level up notification. But I beat the b-

Something slammed into him from behind, hard and heavy. Greg stumbled forward and fell to his hands and knees, his head feeling like someone had taken a bat to it.

-30 hp

Greg coughed and sputtered as his hands and knees hit the ground, rolling to the side on instinct. To his right, a hammer hit the ground, cracking the concrete as the curved end hit the building material. My hammer?

Shocked, Greg scrambled back on his hands and knees, glancing up to see the person holding the hammer.

Dexter "Fingers" Clark

Lv 4 Merchant Gofer (Junkie)

HP: 91/120

The guy I hit before? How'd he get my hammer? Greg thought, confusion visible on his face. A moment later, he remembered what he had used it for. "Oh… oh yeah, that was a dumb idea."

Fingers stared at him with manic eyes, more tired than bloodshot, and raised the hammer again.

Greg acted without thinking and jumped forwards, pouncing on the merchant. His hand snapped out, grabbing the junkie's emaciated wrist and squeezing as tightly as he could.

"Sorry, but this… this is mine." With a twist, he wrenched the hammer from the junkie, slamming an elbow into the man's throat at the same time, his legs straddling the man's torso. "You shouldn't steal!"

"Taking people's stuff is wrong!" Greg brought the hammer down.

The thug jerked, lunging at Greg with a curse on his lips.

Greg did it again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

Breathing heavy as the junkie lay still beneath him, Greg let out a relieved sigh.

"At least that's finally over."

+ 100 XP

+ $12.00

Quest Success!

Gained 1500 xp

Bonus Objective Completed: + 1 stat point, 1 STR

Level Up! You are now Level 4.

You gained 2 stat points.

Basic Fighting: Lvl Up! 1→2

Footwork: Lvl Up! 1→2

New Abilities Gained!

Resistance: Slashing

The cut will stop but not kill. Reduces slashing or cutting damage by 0.75% with every level from attacks less than 100% of your health.

Resistance: Piercing

The thrust or stab is risky because it can kill and yet not stop. Reduces piercing or stabbing damage by 0.75% with every level from attacks less than 100% of your health.

Thrown Weapons

Throwing your sword always works. Except, you know, when it doesn't. Increases the skill, range and force by which items and weapons can be thrown by 2% with every level. (2%)

Brawling

[Basic Fighting] variant

I'm whatcha call a street fighter, a knuckle brawler.

Disarm

Take their weapon from their warm, living hands. Increases chance of disarming the enemy by 2% with every level. (2%)

Parry Lv 2

To deflect an attack is a double-edged sword;

Risking more damage for the chance to inflict the same. Increases the effectiveness of any attempt to divert or deflect a physical attack by 2% with every level. (4%)

New Skills Gained!

Dash Straight

Force equals Mass times Acceleration. You may suck at physics, but you know that much. Through reinforcing the body, you smash your fist into a target while moving at high speed. Damage scales based on distance moved. (1.5x Damage Cap)

Raging Combo

A blistering barrage of belligerent blows built to batter baddies. By repeatedly using weaker forms of Angry Straight, you pummel your target with raw frustration and anger. (6 Hits)

"Niiice." Smiling widely as he stood up, Greg wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead with his free hand. Tossing the hammer up into the air, he caught it again, noting with slight interest how much easier that was to pull off than when he tried it at home.

Shaking his head, he intoned, "[Send to Inventory.]" The hammer vanished, leaving both of Greg's hands free and allowing him to wipe his blood-covered hands on his black jeans. "Uggh, is this mine or theirs?"

Glancing back at the two fallen thugs, Greg couldn't hide the smile on his face. He had done this, all by himself. Taking down two grown men in about five minutes wasn't something a lot of kids his age could say. Unless you're the Wards, Greg admitted to himself. Those guys can probably say that all the time.

"This win kinda feels empty, ya know? You know what this moment needs?" Greg nodded to himself as he began to walk back the way he came from. "Some victory music. Not like theme music, more like a BGM to play after I win a fight or something. Don't I have an options menu to set that in or something?"

Greg mulled over it, his head already nodding along to the victory music he had chosen in his head. "Eh, I'll check when I get home."

Leaving behind two bleeding and unconscious bodies unattended in the worst part of town, Greg Veder began to make his way home with a smile on his face and a song in his heart.

Spoiler: STATUS


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