Robert Vlaho
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[1% LIFESTEAL] Chapter 148 - Haunted
🕑 Added 2024-12-20 20:08:07 +0000 UTCFreddy woke up.
There was no alarm shackled around his head. Yet, a single look at the clock confirmed he had woken up on time.
Whether it was just conditioning, or his body had finally settled on the exact amount of sleep it needed, every single day, he would wake up after roughly four and a half hours of sleep, with a five-minute margin of error.
The sheets on his body felt smooth against his bare skin. He slowly pulled them off.
His living space at Valhalla headquarters wasn’t nearly as fancy as his apartment. But that was all right. He just needed a place to sleep through the night. But sometimes, he had to admit. It felt a bit small. But that was probably not due to the room itself.
His muscular frame could barely fit through the narrow bathroom doors, forcing him to twist his torso to walk through.
As he stepped before the mirror, he looked over his nude body.
His body had almost entirely stopped changing with training. Every single inch of his surface was chiseled to perfection, with skin so pure and flawless it almost seemed like he spent half his day performing beauty routines.
He looked up to his face. He bent forward, leaning against the sink as he stared at his own eyes.
Ever since he’d changed this appearance, he felt queasy looking at his face. He was tired of it. So he created a habit of staring himself in the eyes until he fully fused the image of himself with the image of… this man.
It was during these morning sessions that he felt like he truly was trapped in a stranger’s body.
And it wasn’t just a matter of looks, either. In his behavior, in his desires, in his dreams, and everywhere around him, he saw not Freddy Stern, but Freddy Cliff.
Who was Freddy Cliff?
What was Freddy Cliff?
Ever since he’d stepped foot on the path to power, Freddy Stern had had but once simple motive. He wanted to have a good life. His idea of a good life was travelling to beautiful places, sleeping with beautiful women, socializing and partying with like-minded people, and just simply having fun.
But when he observed his behavior, when he took a close look at what he was in his thoughts and actions, he saw almost no traces of this shallow desire.
He was constantly working towards something. He was constantly tormenting himself. He was constantly growing and changing like some sort of cancerous growth that couldn’t be contained or exterminated.
In these moments before dawn, where the world slept and the monsters screamed in the night, he got the closest to realizing something, grasping a truth that eluded him while he occupied himself with nonsense.
The beating behind his eyes. The twitching of his fingers. The trepidation in his chest.
Something lay there. Something deeper. Something ambitious.
He chuckled. “Man I really am losing my fucking mind.”
“Master, I have returned,” Bloodshed said as it appeared behind his back.
“Welcome back,” he said. “How many?”
He spotted a sinister glint in the skeleton’s eye. “Two.”
He smirked. “Good job, Bloodshed.”
During the past two weeks, he had been sending Bloodshed out on missions while he slept. It had two jobs—spying on those who machinated in the darkness. And killing those he judged to have crossed the line.
To date, Bloodshed had assassinated 12 key figures who were driving criminal operations in Repentawa. And this wasn’t like his hit on Shawn Gem. His conscience was as clear as his shimmering skin.
These people were truly beyond redemption. Just as those who Valhalla caught in the act, they were quite literally standing between innocent men and women and a life free of torment.
He was already aware—most of the members of Valhalla weren’t very fond of him.
He was mostly a stranger to them, one who wasn’t doing much from what they knew. Thor couldn’t tell them what Freddy was doing. And yet, keeping them out of the loop bred displeasure.
Nobody wanted to live a life of risking their own neck just so their boss could throw his full support behind a total stranger. If this continued, it wouldn’t be long until he was forced to return to raiding every now and then, if anything, just to show that he was a worthwhile investment.
But Thor was too stubborn.
“Whatever. He’ll be forced to act soon.”
Freddy walked out of the bathroom and sat down on the living room couch. He focused, conjuring a ball of blood in his hands.
He was making great progress with his new weapon but wasn’t quite yet ready to crystallize it. He was already well past a reasonable number of abilities. Adding any more was a burden that needed to be justified.
Besides, it wasn’t like he couldn’t use this method even without turning it into a proper ability.
Putting it aside, he left his apartment, went to the gathering chamber, and pulled out several water-affinity elixirs. He was very close to finishing Thousand Wet Hells.
Today, he would push himself until he finally reached stage 2.
With his new pendant about his neck and an elixir down his throat, he got started on meditation. Despite his ever-growing toughness, he was barely able to keep up with this ability. To be honest, he feared the results of the next upgrade. But he gritted his teeth and kept going.
For the whole day, he simply tempered and meditated, pushing himself forward and taking his time to clear the reflux essence out of his body. It was a taxing process, one that required a lot of healing and patience. Even he didn’t have infinite pain tolerance. There was only so much he could torture himself before he reached his wit’s end.
But he didn’t get to where he was by giving up easily.
After a whole day of just working on Thousand Wet Hells, he finally felt the blessed relief of seeing the shell in his soul—finished and waiting for an upgrade.
To find a suitable remnant, he and his buddy Bloodshed went on a hunt into the interspace Netherecho. The place was as dangerous as it had always been, but with Bloodshed’s help, tracking and subduing remnants was a trivial ordeal.
After a few hours of searching, he stumbled upon a few interesting candidates. But the one he ultimately settled for was destruction.
It was a harsh concept to put into an already dangerous ability. But he had already made his decision. If he wanted to continue with what he was doing with Flowing Strike, he would need to be as tough as humanly possible.
He subdued the vestige and took it into his soul, finally reaching stage 2.
He got into a seated position and took a deep breath. Then, he activated the ability.
Instantly, all across the surface of his body, his skin started inflating, creating a spotted spectacle of exploding bubbles. Half his face was blown off, and before he could even comprehend what was happening, he felt his right arm explode, his flesh flying in every direction as little more than sagging skin and loose meat hung about his bare bone. “Son of a—”
It took him a while to recover from that damage. He had to go into a realm and kill monsters for a few hours to finally feel all the effects of what he’d done to himself go away.
That had only been a single second of usage.
He showed a lopsided grin and felt his eye twitch as he was forced to admit it. “I fucked up with this one.”
He pulled out his notebook and wrote down an update.
Ten Thousand Wet Hells: Stage 2—0% Progress.
However, he wasn’t done with his upgrades.
He found another suitable concept and upgraded Abyssal Depths. Even just a bit of use made his body mass go up quite drastically.
And then, he found the perfect remnant for his Flowing Strike—the concept of force amplification.
Without further ado, he approached a tree.
For a brief moment, the image of the tree he first started training on flashed before his eyes.
Let’s see how far I made it since then.
He pulled his fist back and used the ability with both stars. Instantly, he felt one hell of a fucking difference in force and couldn’t hold back an insane grin. His fist reached the surface of the tree.
That was the second time he blew his arm up in one day.
But as he saw the shockwave and wooden splinters spread into the woods behind the tree… he knew he had no regrets.
Abyssal Depths: Stage 2—0% Progress.
And then, the second ability worthy of a new name.
Tsunami Strike: Stage 2—0% Progress.
***
Travis wrapped up his training with Thor, stepping outside and wiping his wet forehead with a towel.
“Same time next day?” Thor asked.
“Yeah, sure… It’s gonna be free, right?”
“Yeah, yeah, Freddy is busy with the task I gave him.”
“Oh. Good. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
“Nice,” Thor smiled as he offered him a fist bump.
Travis hesitated for a moment before reciprocating.
“You okay, dude?” Thor asked.
“Yeah, yeah… Don’t worry. I’m just a bit tired from the training.”
“You sure? You’ve been acting a bit weird recently…”
“Nah, it’s all good. Take care of yourself before you worry about me, man; you look overworked as hell!”
Thor chuckled. “Take care man. See you later.”
“Aight,” he said as he turned and walked away.
A shadow fell over his face.
Recently, he’d developed something of a habit of going out to drink alone. If there were any two things Valhalla wasn’t lacking, it was alcoholics and places to drink alcohol.
He preferred one of the lonelier bars, tucked behind a corner in the residential area. It was a small, frugal place. He and Thor used to come there all the time.
He took a seat at the bar and immediately ordered a beer. It was bitter. He couldn’t help but sigh after every gulp.
“Look who it is!” an annoying, arrogant voice sounded from behind him. “If it isn’t the fucking mad dog himself!”
“Ugh…” he groaned quietly, trying to look unbothered. “Hey there, Charlie!” he said as he turned around with a beaming expression. “What brings you around these parts?”
Followed by his two pushovers was Charlie King, one of the more prominent Valhalla fighters. The man was a scout and a ranged attacker. A competent one at that.
“Nothing much,” the man said, smirking as he took a seat right beside him. “Say… I heard you got your privileges back. Did that… Slave guy finally get kicked out or something?”
“No. Freddy is on an important mission.”
“Important mission, huh… hehehe… Is that what Thor calls it? Man, we’ve always known Thor was a little zesty, but I didn’t realize he was into buff men.”
Travis’s hand twitched, causing him to spill a drop of beer. “That’s a very immature joke, Charlie.”
The man laughed anyway, as if he’d cracked the funniest zinger known to man. “Nah, man, you have to admit, there’s something funny going on there.” The man swung an arm around Travis’s neck. “It’s gotta sting, no? Playing second fiddle to some newbie psychopath.”
Travis took a sip of his drink. “Freddy has earned his place. Besides, who Thor decides to back is none of my concern.”
“Is it not, now? Wasn’t it you who he’d been hawking as the next coming of himself for years already? Sheesh, I would be a little angry if I was pushed aside after all that glazing. Is it because you can’t seem to reach the third star? Or is it because you’re just… less attractive than your competition?”
“Man, take no offense, but what the fuck do you want?”
The man pulled his arm back and raised both hands defensively. “I don’t want nothing. I’m just looking out for a friend, that’s all.”
“Give me a break.” Travis scoffed. “Go bother someone else.”
“The others are angry, you know,” the man continued. “That guy’s trouble. He might be strong, but we don’t know him at all. Some are even saying that… Thor might be a bit compromised.”
Travis calmly put his beer down and with a swift lunge, grabbed Charlie’s neck. He didn’t even turn to face him.
“What are you—”
“If you ever try to insinuate that Thor is working against our interests again… I’m personally gonna make sure you get lost on your next trip to the interspace.”
“You’re threatening my life?” the man eked out, wincing as Travis tightened his grip.
“Yes,” the man said. “Yes, I am. We already have enough shit going on without our own people trying to stir more of it. And if I were you, I’d make dead sure Thor didn’t hear me talking like that.” He turned and leaned it. “The man isn’t known for tolerating treason. If you don’t like how things work here, pick your shit up and leave. We don’t stop anyone from going their own way.” He released his grip and Charlie gulped for breath with an aggrieved expression.
The man corrected his collar and got up. “Have fun drinking by yourself, dipshit.” Then he left, taking his side pieces along.
Travis looked over at the bartender who had been staring at him.
The man looked away.
***
Lucas sat on the bench, staring at the ground with a lost expression. His hand subconsciously reached for the scar on his neck.
It was itchy again.
“Lucas Black! Trevor Smith! Step up!” a trainer yelled.
Lucas and his opponent both got up and entered the ring.
Valhalla’s trainees were taught during regular daily drills. Most of their work was drills and physical exercise, at least for the complete beginners, but as of recently, Lucas had finally joined the more advanced crew and started dueling.
He grabbed his wooden spear tightly as he stared down his opponent. It was a bulky man about a head taller than himself. The matchup was completely unfair.
The man known as Trevor Smith didn’t even last three strikes against Lucas before finding himself laying on his ass and staring down the tip of Lucas’s spear.
“Lucas Black wins!” the trainer announced, and some of them stepped away after paying respects to each other.
It didn’t take long for it to become incredibly obvious—Lucas was gifted. Fighting came naturally to him, and he easily picked up on new things. He never repeated his mistakes. He never forgot his lessons. And he never gave up.
He dropped into the bench, feeling profoundly exhausted. The training had been long that day. Long and tiring. He sighed. “I want to see Janice so bad.”
He finally managed to move her to Valhalla, and now, they were living together.
“I wonder how mum is doing.”
***
Hellen was in her apartment, washing the dishes. She scrubbed and scrubbed, but the filth just didn’t want to come off.
Her lights were off, with only a thin ray of sunshine peering through the curtains. The place she was living in was certainly nicer than any other she’d lived in.
She kept scrubbing. Over and over. She had left her stew on the stove for a bit too long, and now, a burnt layer of char was stuck to the bottom. And it wouldn’t come off. She worked hard to polish it, but to no avail. So she gave up. She poured it full of hot water and put it aside to let it soften.
This was the third time she had done so.
Suddenly, the door to her apartment cracked open, and her son walked in. “Hey mom! I haven’t seen you in a bit so I thought I’d drop by!”
“That so?” she asked as she grabbed a dirty glass to wash it. She still hadn’t turned around to face him.
Lucas carefully stepped forward. “You good? Need help?”
“No… I’m fine,” she said flatly as he put the clean glass to dry and grabbed another.
“Mm. Okay.” He raised his hand and a grocery bag rustled. “Brought you some food.”
“I’ve already been shopping.”
“Sweets,” he specified. “Your favorites.”
“I’m on a diet,” she said. “I haven’t been moving as much,” she emphasized, “so I’ve started gaining some weight.”
“Ah, I see. Hahaha… Don’t worry, I’ll get you a prime one of these days. It does wonders for keeping the fat off.”
She dropped the glass she’d been washing. It clanked into the sink, but it didn’t break.
“Oh, sorry… I’m distracting you,” Lucas said with a chuckle as he moved to sit on the couch.
“Hey,” she called.
“Hmm? What is it?”
“How about we move out of here?”
Lucas froze. “Uh… No? Haha…” he chuckled nervously. “Is this a joke?”
She didn’t answer.
He leaned forward. “Where is this coming from?”
“Where is this coming from, he says,” she repeated sarcastically and chuckled darkly, grabbing another glass to clean it. She put the sponge to it and scrubbed hard. “Maybe it’s because I don’t have any friends here? Maybe it’s because I’ve been pulled away from my life to live with a bunch of terrorists? Maybe it’s because my own son,” she shouted the last part scrubbing the glass even harder, “locked me up in this place since he thinks of me like I’m some sort of animal!”
The glass broke in her hands. A sharp edge cut her palm. She whimpered.
“Mom…?” He got up to his feet and walked forward. “Shit! You cut yourself! Give me your hand.”
“No,” she pulled her hand away.
“What? Just give me your damn hand!”
“I’m gonna take care of it myself.”
“Just stop being stubborn and give me your—”
“I said I’m gonna do it myself!” she screamed. “Why are you so pushy these days!?”
Lucas froze, staring at her with that same expression, the one they all gave her. He looked at her like she was crazy. “Just calm down,” he said.
She shook her head as he walked over to a cabinet, opening a drawer and pulling out rags and a bottle of disinfectant. She started tying her wound up.
Lucas looked torn for a moment, but then he visibly gave up and sighed in exasperation. “I don’t know what happened but I think I’m gonna give you some space.” He turned for the exit.
“You’re gonna leave me. Alone. Again.”
He sighed and pivoted. “Well what do you want?”
“I told you. I want us to move.”
“We can’t do that, Mom.”
“Why not?” She whirled. “Why can’t we just go back to living the way we used to?”
“Oh I know what this is about,” he said as he grinned darkly and scoffed.
It felt like he’d stabbed her in the stomach and twisted the knife. “Get out,” she said.
“Fine.” He raised his hands. “I’m leaving.”
“You think I’m insane.”
“I’m already leaving, Mom, no need to keep chasing me.”
“You treat me like an animal.”
He stopped. He turned around with a raised finger, looking like he was about to say something. Then, for a brief moment, he pulled his finger back, cupping his chin as he pondered whether he should. But he clearly gave up on holding his tongue. “You know what, Mom? Maybe if you stopped acting like a fucking animal, I wouldn’t think to treat you like one.”
She was stunned. “You did not just say that to your mother.”
“I didn’t say that to my mother.” He said, raising his hands defensively, then broadly gestured in her direction. “I said that to whoever this is. Because you’re not acting like my mother… Hellen! Now I’m going to leave. Because if I stay, I feel I’ll say some things I’d rather keep to myself.” He turned around again.
“It’s like you forgot everything we went though.”
Lucas froze. He stood there in silence for a long moment, breathing heavily. “Like I forgot everything?” He slowly turned around. “Life is nicer here. You’ll get your damn prime and we’ll live a proper life. Just tell me who your friends are or whatever and I’ll leave and drag them here, but I’m not letting you out.”
“Would it kill you to trust me a little bit?”
“Uhm… Funny story! Yes, actually! I think it nearly did a couple times already!”
“Why do you blame everything on me!?” she shouted. “You and that damn quack of a therapist! Did it ever cross your mind that I was forced to do whatever it took to save us from ending up on the street!?”
Lucas reflexively laughed, his eyes wide open in disbelief. “Is that what you remember happening!? You did everything it took”—he cupped his mouth and blew into his open palms—”Mom, please don’t take this the wrong way, but no the hell you didn’t!” He stammered for a few moments, looking too shocked to form a proper sentence. “I don’t know what kind of fantasy land you come from, but the world I lived in was very, very different.
“The world I remember was one where I’d come back from shitty part-time work where I killed myself for twenty bucks, only to find out that you gambled away the next three months’ rent! The world I remember was one where I lived in fear every fucking day that any moment, we’d have loan sharks break our doors down and drag us out. Do you have any idea just how I felt during this time!?
“Every single time you set us back, I’d feel this horrible, twisting pain in my stomach! It was like my guts were curling in on themselves… It was a good day when I didn’t fantasize about jumping out the window. And the only reason I never did is because I didn’t want to hurt you like that! But you! You did everything in your power to ruin my fucking life!
“If it weren’t for the mercy of a complete stranger, you know where we’d be, Mom? We’d be tied up in some wet basement, waiting for the next round of having our organs harvested! And you wonder why I don’t want to risk letting you loose!? Bitch, even rock bottom thinks back fondly on the time you were that high up in life! And after all this, you have the gall to just pretend like none of this was ever happening! I can’t wrap my mind around how it’s even possible for someone to be this goddamn delusional!”
She looked appalled as she stepped back. “You only remember me at my worst! Do you not remember any of the sacrifices I’ve made!?”
“Sacrifices!?” He laughed. “Sure I do.” He raised his fingers. “Let’s count ‘em! You sacrificed my future. You sacrificed our safety. You sacrificed your—”
She slapped him. Yet, he didn’t even react. It was as if he were made of stone.
She took a subconscious step back and grabbed her wrist. Her arm hurt.
His nostrils flared as he took a step in her direction.
“Are you gonna hit me?” she asked fearfully.
“Oh, I’m this fucking close. But I won’t. You know what I will do? I’m gonna give you a chance. Move out. Go back to the city. If you can last for half a year without getting yourself into knee-deep shit, I’m gonna apologise and take back every single thing I said.” Then he scoffed. “But if you do exactly what I think you will, you will stop acting like a child and”—he took a deep breath—”you’re gonna let me finally have some fucking peace! Do we have a deal?”
She shook her head and stepped back again. “Just get out.”
“Will do. Oh, and just one more thing. Please, for the love of everything you hold sacred, never mention your son is a trainee in Valhalla. Pretend I’m just dead and buried like my brother if anyone asks. I don’t want to get any letters written in your blood.” He marched out of the room and slammed the door shut.
Outside, he couldn’t even take ten steps before breaking down. His hands shook as he raised them and slammed himself in the side of his head. Again. And again. And again.
“Why does she have to keep putting me through this?”
Comments
DuskDeadman
Destruction has been added
Chibrahim
Yeah, she need to be institutionalised
Damian
Wait, what concept did he use to upgrade abyssal depths? You just wrote "a suitable concept" , lol.
Anthony Milton
Go Lucas
Compendium
Ya, suspect we're gonna find out how perfect healing works on a literally scrambled brain lol
Evaldo
I feel like this upgrade to the Wet Hells is kinda a mistake...it could very easily kill him, by blowing up his brain. What was his strategy for this one?
Jamison Schneider
Lol yes
Compendium
Bloodshed is Batman confirmed
Beeees!
I liked the lil bit if side pOv
Gio
Hmm, perhaps it is more practical for freddy to use 10k wet hells in the passage while bloodshed slaughters every living thing in sight
Uroš
I think it was meant as a joke 😅
Robert Blaise
I'm pretty sure he's referring about the world of 1% Lifesteal. Tho he ain't wrong either way 🤣
atgongumerki
I never liked Hellen, but in this chapter i just pity her. that cold turkey is hitting her hard (is it even called that for gambling?)
Jamison Schneider
True, but try to keep your comments about the story and not real life, okay?
Kronos
Bruh I thought she was doing better. Why is everyone an asshole 😕
Robert Blaise
💀
Szilárd Fazekas
Poor Lucas :c
Robert Nolan
... Fucking Hellen! Am I right?
Robert Blaise
It was mentioned before, it's just sister concepts for compressing things or packing them tighter.
Uroš
Damn, everyone in this world needs a freaking therapist. Or five.
Mayukh Joshi
What concept did he use to upgrade Abyssal Depths? Was this suitable concept mentioned before or is it just foreshadowing for a future reveal?
Robert Blaise
Smooth instead of like I think. Will fix
Kuraiji
Thanks for the chapter 😁 "The sheets on his body felt like ** against his bare skin. He slowly pulled them off." I think there is a missing word here
