Perks: [Serene Life], [Righteous Fury], [Gluttonous Approach], [Telekinetic Shield], [Alcoholic Advantage], [Peak Physicality], [Mark of Decrepitude], [Iron Will].
Frizz stared at his list of perks with tired eyes. He had one last combination left that had a guaranteed effect.
He shut his eyes and took a deep breath. "System, combine peak physicality and iron will."
[System]
Combining: [Peak Physicality] ⬪ [Iron Will]
Results: [Iron Peak]
Displaying descriptions: The perk user passively regenerates from wounds, injuries, and afflictions at an accelerated rate. Serious conditions, like fractures or lacerations, may need medical attention but heal slightly better and faster. The perk user also has a heightened tolerance to pain. Their body operates closer to peak physicality, moderately improving overall physical performance.
When the perk user's health falls to critical, their physical performance temporarily reaches true peak condition for 60 seconds. During this time, their strength, speed, and endurance are further amplified, and healing is accelerated by an additional significant amount, giving them a fighting chance in critical situations. This perk has no cooldown; it activates if health lowers to critical again.
(YES! I will be powerful soon if this kind of trend continues.)
"System, show me my status."
[System]
Name: New Name
Level: 8
Experience: 50/160
Health: 28/39 (+10) [SL+2] [RF+2] [IP+6]
Mana: 36/36 (+2) [SL+2]
Fatigue: 70/100 (exhausted)
Class: None
Physical Prowess = [near exceptional human]
Magical Prowess = [above average human]
Mental Prowess = [below average human]
Telekinetic Prowess = [novice]
Perks: [Serene Life], [Righteous Fury], [Gluttonous Approach], [Telekinetic Shield], [Alcoholic Advantage], [Mark of Decrepitude], [Iron Peak].
Talents: None
(Near exceptional human...) Frizz smiled, snickering as he read the progress he made.
(Okay, I've decided to crush this drug trade in my town and city.) He declared, his ambitious side flickering to life.
The ambitions flared brightly, but they were quickly dampened by a dark thought. Images of himself being tortured flashed through his mind, vivid and grotesque.
The smile faded from his face as the mental strain of his situation settled back in. (No, no, no.)
Frizz shook his head, trying to forget the pain. (If I don't make a move, they'll kill me, but if I fail in trying to get out, they'll torture and then kill me.)
The excitement and hope from the combination of his perks faded. Now, there was only dread for what was to come. His mind raced as he searched for a solution, a way out.
Then an idea sparked in his head. He glanced at his status again, his eyes drawn to a perk with an effect that had caught his attention before.
Frizz gulped, legs shifting restlessly. "This could work," he whispered with a shaky tone.
⟐
Two minutes later...
*Beep!* *Beep!* A kidnapper's phone rang, promptly answering the call.
"Is he doing anything?" A voice asked.
"Not yet. He sometimes mutters to himself, but nothing strange so far," the kidnapper replied, adjusting the optics on his rifle resting atop a barrel.
"Always keep a gun aimed at him and don't hesitate to shoot if he does something, but don't kill him!" the voice reminded and ended the call.
"You heard what he said." The kidnapper turned to his partner.
"I know, keep a gun aimed at him," the other kidnapper confirmed, slightly unfolding his bandaged thigh, revealing a stitched laceration. "Shit, I think it might be infected."
⟐
(They're coming; I know that voice.) Frizz gritted his teeth. (It's that piece of shit with a scar.)
(Now's my moment; time to get their attention.) He huffed. (Insult them, then make them beat me up.)
"Hey, asshole. The one with the injured thigh." All kidnappers snapped to attention and glared at Frizz.
"How does it feel?"
"What?" the injured kidnapper growled, his eyes narrowed.
"I said, how does it feel?" Frizz asked mockingly, tilting his head towards the bandaged right thigh.
"Shut the fuck up, or I'll make you."
"Then make me, you subhuman, welfare-reliant piece of shit," Frizz snapped. "This is why this country is heading to the gutter!" He emphasized his words with sudden, strong movements, trying to loosen the bindings.
"Uneducated people like you four are the dregs of society, fucking scum. Also, no wonder you guys are criminals!" He insulted, saying whatever came to mind. "Only people like you actually commit crimes: drug-using, welfare-leeching, musky-smelling, uneducated, gay reprobates."
The injured kidnapper couldn't handle the discriminatory insults any longer. He stood up, limping towards the hostage. The other three followed, and the four of them encircled Frizz like vultures.
They smiled with sadistic glee. In front of them was a durable and resilient hostage.
They wouldn't need to hold back on their strikes.
"Listen, I get it. You have a death wish," the kidnapper on the right stated. "Frizz, right—"
"You're just a dog, a smelly, flea-ridden mongrel, eager to suck your master's rod for some small cash!" Frizz interjected, causing the four to chuckle.
His insults weren't effective. "Keep talking with a mouth like that, and I'll take away your balls!" the kidnapper on the left threatened, brandishing a pocketknife.
"Then good, at least you'll have some balls."
The kidnapper was irked and struck Frizz's face with the butt of his rifle. The insult was effective. *Thwack!* However, the strike had no effect since his force field tanked it. "Huh?"
"It's that protection of his," the kidnapper with the injured thigh stated. "It's one of the main reasons why we weren't able to maim him. It was strong enough to stop our blades."
The kidnapper on his left grinned. "So he can take a few hits?" he added, delivering another rifle melee to the face. *Thwack!*
Frizz felt the impact but not the damage. Shifting his head, he spat at the kidnapper who struck him. "Piece of shit! My shirt!"
The three lightly chuckled at the sight. "Poor people like you should just die! You bring nothing to our town, to our city, to our country, or to the world," Frizz shouted, his voice breaking from dehydration and pain.
The kidnapper grabbed a leaf on the ground and tried to wipe the spit away on his shirt, only to make it worse. "Fucking shit."
"Threaten me all you want, but if I were out of these binds..." Frizz paused, chuckling. "I would break all the bones of your ugly wives and mothers."
"Then piss on them and—" Frizz was cut off. *Thwack!* Punched in the chest with a brass knuckle.
The injured kidnapper had heard enough, not the insults but the annoying voice. "Shut the fuck up!"
The other three joined in the beating, dropping their rifles and putting all their weight into their punches. Frizz swayed from the impacts, his force field on the verge of breaking.
"Piece of shit, fuck you—" He was cut off again, struck in the mouth.
The four of them stopped to catch their breath and massage their hands. The usual feeling of bone and flesh cracking was replaced by a soft, rubbery texture. But it was only a matter of time before that familiar sensation of flesh returned.
"Suck my rod, gaywad!" Frizz egged them on.
The injured kidnapper limped away, picking up a hammer from behind a barrel. Frizz gulped, momentarily freezing as he remembered being struck with that hammer last night. (My hands still ache from all that hammering.)
"Remember, we warned you!" the injured kidnapper said, stepping forward before an accomplice's hand stopped him. "Baron wants the kill, I warn you. Don't get carried away."
The injured kidnapper raised the hammer and struck Frizz on the head. *Thwack!* A loud sound echoed inside the warehouse. A strike like that would have been lethal; however, Frizz just grinned.
"This is for my fucking thigh, you piece of shit!"
Frizz was struck in the shoulder. *Thwack!*
*Thwack!* In the face and in the forehead. *Thwack!*
"Fucking die, you son of a bitch!" *Thud!*
"HEY!" Another kidnapper tried to restrain him from the excessive force but was too late. Landing a strike on the forehead again, causing a smile to form until a sudden explosion sent them flying.
The other three were also thrown back by the force. Two were slammed against a pillar while one slammed against a water-filled barrel, spilling out the contents.
(Thank god for that additional effect; that telekinetic explosion plan went swimmingly!)
The injured kidnapper landed on a table covered in dirty rags, breaking his fall but incapacitating him.
Frizz gathered his strength, straining against his bindings and snapping them. He rose, almost falling as blood trickled from his forehead, the result of the hammer strike.
The entrance doors burst open, and two armed guards appeared, firing their pistols at Frizz. *Bang!* *Bang!* He took cover behind a pillar near the two knocked-out kidnappers, grabbing the discarded rifle.
Frizz shakily clutched the rifle, an M-16 with a suppressor and an optic. A bullet hit the pillar, sending up shards and dust. He quickly ducked, placing a finger on the trigger as the hail of bullets stopped.
"They're reloading!"
Frizz peeked from his cover, spotting a guard kneeling behind a crate. He aimed at them and pulled the trigger, but there was no gunfire since the safety was on.
*Bang!* A bullet whizzed past, terrifying and sending him back behind the pillar again.
"What the fuck!?" His voice shaking, fiddling with the rifle. "Fucking safety."
*Click!* The safety lock was deactivated as the shooting halted; they were reloading again.
Frizz peeked, seeing a guard rushing his position. He moved from the cover and aimed at the legs. Unbeknownst to him, it was set to automatic fire.
*Brrrrrrrt!* The rifle fired in rapid succession, climbing upward from the recoil and untrained grip. Dropping it and causing him to hide behind the pillar again, his ears rang as his shoulders ached.
"Fuuuuck!" Frizz bellowed in fear, desperate.