Chapter 7: The training continues.

"Kid," Max shook his shoulder, "wake the fuck up! It's training time!"

The kid groaned a bit, rubbing his eyes. "Wha..?"

"I said 'wake the fuck up'," the older man repeated. "Please," he then jokingly added.

"What... time?" the boy slowly uttered.

"Five in the morning," he said, "now wake up, goddamnit."

"Training starts *yawn* on Monday," the boy said as he covered himself with a blanket.

"Today is Monday, pal."

The boy looked at him, eyes wide. "What."

"You've slept all day yesterday," Max said.

"You're shitting me, right?"

"Nope," he paused. "You were sleeping like the dead, pal. Guess lifting a car was way more exhausting than we've thought, huh?"

"Why you didn't wake me up?"

"I've tried, kiddo," Max massaged his neck. "But you were sleeping so deeply that a fucking gunshot wouldn't have woke you up."

Jalyn stared at him silently for a couple of seconds. "You didn't shoot the gun in my room just to see if I wake up, did you?"

"...Maybe?" he said with a sheepish smile.

"Max..." disbelief was apparent in the boy's voice.

"Just get out of the bed and go to the basement," he said. "Oh, and welcome to hell, by the way."

"Be there in a minute," he said as he got up. I wonder what he prepared for me, he started dressing up. 10-kilometer run, huh? I hope I'll still be alive by the end of it, he exited his room and headed towards an elevator. "I need to find a way to implement my quirk in it," he pressed the button and grabbed his chin. "How can I even use my quirk to run faster? Set my ass on fire or something?" he entered the elevator. "Wonder if covering my legs in Blackfire will speed me up somehow. I hope I won't end up breaking my legs in the process, that'd be really fucking dumb," he muttered as he stepped into the basement. "I must learn how to regulate my super-strength so I won't kill anyone, myself included. And I also give it a more creative name than just 'Super-strength'. Just in ca-"

"Talking to yourself again, eh?" Max interrupted him. "Maybe we should visit the psychiatrist to check you out?"

"A bit straightforward, don't you think?" he asked sarcastically.

"Kid, subtlety isn't my thing," he shrugged. "You, of all people, should know that by now. Now go to the track, it's time for some fun!" he said cheerfully.

"Fun for who?" Jalyn started stretching.

"Yes," Max answered, receiving a quiet groan.

He was standing on a running track now, jumping from one foot on another.

"Welp, kiddo," Max started, "here's your first exercise for today, you've got to run 10 kilometers in half an hour. I know it's a bit-"

"Max, are you fucking kidding me?" Jalyn cut him off. "Half an hour is a national-fucking-record. How do you expect me to run as fast as a professional athlete?"

"Professional athletes don't have quirks," Max shrugged.

"I don't have a fucking super-speed, Max."

"But you have a super-strength, just use it with your legs, it'll be fine as long as you won't break them," Max concluded.

"..." Jalyn stared at him. "You've heard my muttering inside an elevator, didn't you?"

"...Maybe?" a shit-eating grin appeared on his face.

"And you made my exercise harder, based only on my assumptions?"

"Abso-fucking-lutely," the grin widened.

"Max, I love you but I fucking hate you at the same time."

"I know, pal," he smiled. "Now go! And don't slack off, maggot!"

And when Max whistled, Jalyn ran.

Covering both of my legs will just exhaust me faster and I don't even know if it'll work at all, he thought while running. Maybe I'll cover my forelegs, no, my feet instead? he ran a couple of meters. What if I'll cover my feet alternately, step by step?

The moment he was about to push off the ground with his right foot, he covered it with Blackfire, leaping, what seemed like, a few dozens, if not hundreds of meters forward and breaking the concrete a bit. He then did the same with his left leg. Surprisingly, changing Blackfire between his legs wasn't as difficult as he initially thought.

That felt amazing as well, he liked it when things were easier than he expected.

He didn't count how long he ran, but another whistle caught his attention.

Inertia threw him forward a bit, but he managed to stop before planting himself in a wall. He was panting lightly, trying to process what the fuck just happened when he saw Max's awestruck face. He looked at his mentor questioningly.

"15.28 minutes," he said, his eyes wide. "Kid, you broke- fuck it! You demolished the fucking record!"

"Just because of my quirk," the kid said.

"Don't sell yourself short, pal. That was outright amazing." Max kept going on. "You ran 10 kilometers in 15 minutes."

"Anyone with super-speed could've done better."

"But you don't have a super-speed. Just a super-strength and great timing."

"Heh, yeah," Jalyn chuckled. "I've got to admit, it was... pretty exciting."

"So that's what green fire in your eye stands for, huh?" Max grabbed his chin.

"What?"

"Your eye," Max said. "It's burning with green."

"Wait, what?" he sounded a bit confused "My eyes are green when I'm calm."

"Well, you didn't seem calm to me a moment ago," Max shrugged.

"Could it be that one color of my eye can stand for different emotions?" he muttered.

"Your quirk is really strange, kid."

"I'm sure that there are more quirks like that around the globe."

"Not as cool, though," he said. "By the way, why you covered your legs with Ebony Armor separately?"

"Ebony Armor?" Jalyn asked.

"There's a game I've used to play which had a high-tier black armor that was called that. I think it sounds really cool."

"True," the boy shrugged. "So, what's next?"

"Well, since 10 kilometers are nothing to you, how about adding another 40?" he suggested. "Running larger distances will play a hand in your future 'career'."

"Sure, let's do this," a glint of green shined in his eyes.

"Ready..."

Jalyn took a stance.

"Set..."

He covered his right foot with Ebony Armor. I love a ring to it.

"GO!"

And so he ran, leaving the green trail from his right eye.

To his own surprise, he finished his run much faster than he expected. He thought it'll take an hour at least, but he was done in 48 minutes.

He was now panting heavily, leaning on his legs, Max was staring at his stopwatch with dumbfounded eyes.

"What the fuck are you, kid?" he asked quietly. "Lifting a two-ton car, shrugging off getting shot from a sniper rifle and running 50 kilometers in 50 minutes at seven-fucking-years."

"I'm just *pant* getting *pant*started." he was trying to catch a breath.

"Just imagine what you'll be capable of in 10 years, pal," he rubbed his higher lip.

"So, what's next on today's schedule?" the kid asked.

"Now we'll eat some ice cream, you'll take a shower, do your warm-up and I'll beat the shit out of you afterward," he said.

"I'll make you swallow these words, Max," Jalyn smirked.

"Shit..." Max quietly swore as he was heading towards an elevator.

After his usual warm-up that consists of 100 push-ups, 100 sit-ups, 100 squats, and 50 pull-ups, he was standing on mats with Max in front of him.

"Okay, kiddo," he cracked his knuckles, "time for some ass-kickery," he smiled.

Jalyn leaned on his right leg and took a deep breath. He then ran at his mentor and jumped, trying to knee him on the chin.

After Max easily avoided it by stepping backward, he quickly straightened his leg and performed an axe kick which was blocked by Max crossing his forearms above his head. At this moment Jalyn shot two tendrils out of his left leg and used them to grab Max by his shoulder and pull him towards his knee, successfully hitting him in the face.

He then shot one tendril from his back and another from his chest to quickly pull himself to the ground. Once he landed, he used the tendril on his chest to knock Max off his feet, causing him to fall and held him on the ground with a tendril on his back.

"Holy shit, kid!" he exclaimed. "What the fuck was that?"

"An ass-kickery," he deadpanned.

"I thought these tentacles can come out of your arms only."

"You were wrong," he shrugged. "Ready for another round?"

"You're enjoying this way too much, pal."

"Consider it a little payback," Jalyn said with a smirk.

"Oh, you little shit," he chuckled. "Don't think that this shit will work twice with me."

"There are way more where that came from, old man."

"Ho-ho, now I'm MOTIVATED," he jumped up on his feet. "Come at me, brat," he took a stance. "And take off that shirt if you don't want it to tear even more."

Jalyn stealthily shot a couple of black fireballs inside the floor while taking his shirt off.

Hope that works, he thought as he ran towards Max. When he closed a distance between them, he ordered the fireball underground to quickly heat up and shoot upwards, which resulted in a piece of floor melting.

"What the fu-"

He quickly cooled it down, turning it black, and solidified it creating a pillar that he used to jump towards Max, his fist already flying towards the old man's face.

When he evaded it by stepping aside, Jalyn did the same procedure to the second fireball that was sent behind Max, making another pillar and placing both his hands on it, using it as a support to kick Max in his chest, surprising him yet again.

He then pushed himself off that pillar and shot tentacles from his forearms towards the ceiling and quickly pulled himself to it. He continued his assault by shooting tendrils back to the ground, right behind Max, and slingshotting himself to him, slamming him on the chest full-speed with his legs and dropping him on the ground.

"Fuck..." Max sighed. He then looked at the two holes on the floor, "This shit is supposed to be fireproof. That's pretty nice control you have over your quirk, pal."

"I've practiced a lot," he frowned a bit. "Can't afford anymore... accidents."

"Well, uh," he massaged his chest, "didja practice those moves too? They looked kinda awesome," he coughed. "How did you come up with them?"

"Just took inspiration from a certain web-head."

"Heh, you and your comics," the older man chuckled. "Welp, that's 2-0," he stood up. "Let's go for another round."

"Didn't know you're a masochist," Jalyn said with a smirk.

"Which one of us wanted to get shot from a sniper rifle?" he cracked his neck. "So, are there any other tricks you didn't show me yet?"

"Nope, that's all for now," the boy rotated his shoulder. "I think of something new later."

"Now bring it, kid!" Max took a stance.

"Here I come," he said as he ran towards him.

Max fought a lot of people in his life. Most of the time he ended up winning as well. As he grew older, he got really bored with fighting, every moron whose ass he kicked seemed just like the previous one. They caused no challenge, had no passion, they were weak.

Max was strong and he perfectly knew it. At his age of sixty-two, he could easily beat the shit out of a guy twice, if not thrice younger than him.

But that kid... he was something else. His speed, strength, maneuverability, stamina, wit, all of it somehow was on a way different level when compared to every adult he fought before. His agility was top-notch. He could read Max like an open book, knowing how he'll hit and how he'll dodge. Once he breaks through Max's defense, he performs a series of punches and kicks which inevitably leads to the older man's loss.

He lost five more rounds before finally managing to hit Jalyn in the jaw with a quarter of his strength. The kid didn't give a single fuck. He just changed his positioning with his tendrils and continued his assault like he wasn't punched at all.

I guess burning your hands that badly bumps up your pain tolerance a bit, huh?

Here he comes again, Max thought as Jalyn started running to his right. He saw Blackfire forming on the tip of the boy's fingers on a left hand. He stepped back, avoiding getting hit in the face by a tendril and getting distracted when he heard a crack.

He then covered the right half of his face, expecting the boy to hit there via pulling towards the wall. But the boy flew a bit further, releasing the tendril and spinning in the air and hitting him in the jaw with his elbow.

Holy fuck, kid, I already feel sorry for the fuckwits you're gonna deal with in the future, he thought, as his consciousness left him.

"Max?" Jalyn slapped the older man's cheek once again. "Max, please, wake up," there was a worry in his voice. "Max!" his eyes were yellow.

"I'm awake!" he quickly sat up. "How long was I out?"

"For 15 minutes," the boy said with his eyes a bit wet. "Are you alri-"

"Holy shit, kid!" he exclaimed with a smile. "15 minutes?! You've really gone ham on me, huh?"

"You're not mad?" he asked sheepishly.

"Mad? Kid, why should I be mad? Training you so you'd be able to stand for yourself is the sole reason I took you with me. You've managed to knock me the fuck out, I've expected you to do that much later, not on the first day of your training. I'm kinda proud of you, y'know," he smiled broadly.

The kid blushed a bit at the last statement with a glint of pink in his eyes.

"Ohh? Is that a blush I see?" Max said mockingly. "Are you that touched by my praise?"

"What are we going to do next?" he returned to his usual cold expression.

"We'll keep fighting," he said. "There's still two hours left."

"Are you sure you're okay with it?" the kid asked.

"Yep, let's go now Flamethrower-Man," he said with a smile.

"Don't you ever call me that again."

"Why not?"

"It sounds like something a five-year-old would come up with," Jalyn said.

"Nice way to treat one's feelings, pal," Max pouted.

"Subtlety isn't my thing," the boy smirked.

"Touché," the older man deadpanned.

After getting his ass kicked 20 more times and, somehow, winning twice, Max, alongside with Jalyn started placing obstacles on the running track for kid's next exercise.

Unsurprisingly, the boy had next to no problems with it. His next exercise, however, promised to be way funnier.

"So, what's now?" the boy asked with a slight interest.

"Another fighting exercise," Max answered. "But first, you can't use your quirk, like, at all, second, we'll use melee weapons."

"Okay, what kind of weapons?" he shoved his hand in the pockets.

"Staves, batons, knives..." he started listing. "That kind of stuff."

"What's the catch?" the boy asked suspiciously.

"Staffs and batons will be metal and knives will be real. But don-"

"Did I hit you too hard when we were sparring?" Jalyn asked with genuine concern.

"Not the worst punch I missed, why?"

"What the fuck are you talking about then?"

"You have nothing to worry about, kid," Max tried to reassure the boy. "Knives will be dull."

"Okay, but why staffs are metal?"

"...Why not?" the older man shrugged.

"You're insane, Max," the boy sighed.

"Oh, I'm sorry, am I the one who wanted to get shot from a fucking sniper rifle?" he said sarcastically.

"You can't just bring that up every time we're arguing," he said exasperatedly.

"I can, and I will, cause it's a damn good point." Max pointed to another room, "After you."

When Jalyn entered the room, he was amazed: the room was filled with various types of melee weapons.

Sais, combat axes, swords of different lengths, machetes, katanas, sabers, hook-swords, combat knives, daggers, spears, pikes, maces, nunchucks, war hammers, aforementioned staves and batons.

"So, whatcha think, kiddo?" Max asked proudly. "Do you like my collection? Spent hell of a time to gather these."

"Max... that's just... that's awesome!" his right eye was burning with green. "Where did you get all of this stuff from? How much money you've spent? Are there any throwing weapons?"

"Holy shit, kid," he laughed. "Guess you still are a child in some aspects, eh?"

"Well," he scratched his cheek, "it's kinda hard not to react when you see so much awesomeness around. Just gimme a minute."

"Heh, it's okay, pal. Feast your eyes as much as you want, we've got a shitload of time anyway."

"Can I test one of them?" the boy asked, his irises and completely green.

"Of course, I've got some training dummies, wait a minute while I'll bring 'em," he said, leaving the room.

While he was gone, Jalyn the weapon that caught his eye: a katana. Well, a shorter version, wakizashi, if he remembered correctly.

He spun it in his hand a bit and then slashed the air a couple of times.

It looks slightly different than in the pictures I've seen before, but its design is quite recognizable. A modern variant maybe?

He carefully ran his finger over the blade. Sharp.

"Ah, good-ol' wakizashi," Max said. "Great choice, if you ask me," he placed the wooden training dummy on the ground. "Here, hit this fucker a couple of times, let's see how good you are."

Jalyn walked up to the dummy.

"And no quirk," Max reminded him.

The boy took a deep breath.

He performed a diagonal swipe from right to left and another one from left to right. He then spun the blade, grabbing it in a reverse grip and made fast horizontal slash from left to right.

The dummy was divided into eight pieces, seven of them dropped on the floor with eighth being its leg.

"Huh, not bad kid," Max nodded approvingly. "A bit clunky, but not bad."

"Could've done it faster, though," he threw it in the air and grabbed it with his left hand.

"You're a newbie in that aspect yet, kid," Max patted his head. "A couple more months and you'll get way better."

"Let's begin our training then," the boy suggested.

"Okey-dokey, pick a weapon," Max pointed at the table a bit further from the stands.

A pair of knives, batons and staff... Quite a limited choice, he grabbed his chin. The staff is too big for me for now and he'll easily deflect my swings with a baton, he grabbed the knife with his left hand and threw it to the right, catching it. A knife it is.

"I'm ready, Max," he tilted his head. "Why are you smiling like that?"

"It's payback time, bitch."

"...Crap."

"As a valorous knight I truly am, I allow thee to strike first," he pointed at the boy with the Bo Staff he was holding in his left hand. "Come at me!"

"Why thank you, kind sir," the boy deadpanned. "Now, expect this knife to appear inside your rectum."

"This is no way for a true knight to talk, young man," he couldn't help but smile.

"This one doesn't give a fuck," he said, as he lunged towards him.

He jumped and tried to slash him only for Max to hit his forearm with a staff, grab him by the face and slam him into the ground. He then stepped on him and pressed his hand to the ground with a staff.

"And that, my young student, is a win for me," he smiled.

"I promise I'll wipe this grin off your face, you grey-haired moron," the green in his eyes shining brighter.

"Tsk-tsk, that foul language doesn't suit a sweet boy such as yourself," he waved his finger. "Onto the round two!"

I need to add more movement in my attacks, try to confuse him, he thought as he ran at him. Gotta add some spinning.

He threw his right hand with a knife forward, but when Max was about to deflect it, he quickly spun his body clockwise, switching his hold into the reverse grip, attempting to stab him.

Unfortunately, Max dodged it and slammed him on the top of the head with a staff, causing him to hit the mat face-first.

"Fuck me!" he hissed.

"I'm sorry, young one, you're not my type," Max said nonchalantly.

"Wha?" he then chuckled a bit. "Screw you, Max."

"Can you keep going?"

"We're just getting started, old man."

"That's the spirit!" he smiled. "Too bad it won't help ya."

Jalyn rushed at him with a new plan in his head.

He began his assault with a series of stabs and cuts, but all of them were easily parried. Max then performed a fast vertical hit, which the boy dodged by rolling to the side.

The boy then attempted to hit him with an overhead stab, but Max caught him by his forearm and blocked his other hand with a staff. "Aww, c'mon, kid, you really thought that trick would work on me?"

"Yep," the boy quickly dropped the knife and kicked it with his knee, hitting Max in a stomach with a blade. "And it did," he smirked.

"Oh, come on!" he exclaimed. "How the hell did you calculate that you'll hit the handle and not the blade?"

"I was lucky," he shrugged.

"You can't depend on luck in combat, kid," Max said. "The only thing that actually matters is a skill."

"I know, Max. Now, how about we see if I'll get lucky again?" he said as he took the stance.

"Ho-ho, trust me, you won't, kid," Max spun the staff in his hand. "Now," he made a challenging gesture with his free hand, "come at me!"

"Uh-huh," he said as he ran towards him.

They've had 30 rounds in total. Jalyn won only three of them, including his first victory. He won second time by throwing a knife at Max and hitting them with the second one he kept hidden from the very start striking Max when he decided to lecture him about the importance of keeping the weapon at his side mid-battle. His third victory was achieved when he simply struck the staff harder than expected and broke it in half, causing Max to give up.

Other than that, Max completely dominated him during the sparring.

"Welp, that was nice, doncha think, pal?" Max patted his head.

"That was a good experience," Jalyn grabbed his chin. "But I need to train more or I'll be as good as dead if I face someone proficient with a knife."

"Don't think about it too much kid, you're a quick learner, so everything will be a-okay."

"Well, what do we do next?" he asked, rotating his shoulder.

"I'll teach you how to climb. A pretty useful skill if you ask me."

"Where will we train?" the boy ignited and then quickly extinguished the flame on his forearm.

"Outside. And feel free to use your quirk by the way."

"Okay, let's go then."

They stood at the backyard of the house. There was nothing special, just the pool and a couple of chairs.

"Welp, kid, now go, show what you're capable of, if I'm satisfied, we'll just skip this boring crap and proceed to something way more interesting," Max pointed towards the wall.

Jalyn walked up to it and placed a hand on his chin.

An idea came almost instantly.

He opened his palm and concentrated. The tips of his fingers were now covered with Ebony Armor and little claws slowly formed on top of his fingerprints. He then placed his fingers on a wall, claws smoothly cutting through the concrete. While inside the wall, he reshaped the claws, turning them into hooks. When he tried to pull his hand off the wall, he noticed that it was stuck to it quite tightly. He repeated the same process with his left arm, placing it higher.

When the turn came to his legs, he just covered the tip of his sneakers in Blackfire, created claw-hooks and placed his left foot on a wall with the right one following shortly after.

He now was on the wall and started crawling up it, the hardest thing being the timing in reshaping the claws.

After adjusting to new experience a bit, he was easily able to crawl up and down the wall, reshaping claws at the exact moment his feet and fingers were about to unhook from it.

"Heh, you're natural at it, kid," Max said. "Guess it won't cause any trouble for you, just practice from time to time and you'll be great."

"Is it okay that I've made holes in a wall?"

"Eh, forget it, it's easy to cover 'em," he waved his hand dismissively. "Get down now, time for some fun."

Jalyn jumped off the wall and gracefully landed near Max. "Lead the way then."

They were in the basement again, heading towards the shooting range.

"Well, I guess that's 'something way more interesting', huh?" Jalyn said sarcastically. "Teaching me how to shoot."

"You sound less intrigued than I've expected. But, judging by yesterday's events, I assume you prefer being shot at more, am I right?"

"I'm just not too keen on guns," he shrugged. "Like, at all."

"Well, like it or not, but we need to improve your overall aim," Max said.

"In that case, shouldn't we train with throwing weapons as well?"

"We will, I've planned it for July. But for now, let's concentrate on firearms."

"Sure, what guns I'll be shooting from?"

"Handguns, assault rifles and shotguns," he listed. "We can try machine guns and grenade launcher if you're interested."

"You've got fucking grenade launcher?" he raised his brow.

"Kid, come on, don't tell me you didn't expect me to havea grenade launcher," he smiled.

"I guess asking you about why you have it is pointless, isn't it?"

"Yep."

"Eh, whatever, let's get it started already," he said flatly.

"We'll start with handguns and switch on the rest a bit later. Wait here," he started walking away, "I'll bring them here. Open that locker while I'm gone and pull out the ammo boxes."

Let's see what have we here... he was looking at green metal boxes with numbers on them. .25, .32 S&W, 9 mm, 5.7 mm .40 S&W, .44, .50 AE and .500 S&W. The fuck's S&W? he thought as he pulled out the boxes and placed them at the table on a shooting range using his tendrils.

"Max, I'm done!" he raised his voice a bit. "Max?"

"I'm here!" he brought a cart with some suitcases in it. "I think it'll be great if you'll choose the gun yourself."

"Okay, what are my options?" the kid asked.

"Just come here and take a look at it yourself."

Jalyn created a table from Blackfire and placed the suitcases on it.

"Show-off," Max muttered.

Inside the suitcases were different types of revolvers and semi-automatic pistols.

"You can pick only three of those, kiddo," the older man added.

His gun knowledge was quite lacking, but he knew that Five-seven was one of the guns with the lowest recoil, so he chose it first.

"Nice choice, kiddo," Max said approvingly. "It's quite light and has a decent ammo capacity."

He then picked one of the larger Desert Eagles. Let's see what "The strongest semi-auto pistol" is capable of.

"If you wanna shoot from Deagle, I'd recommend you pick a lesser caliber," he said. "I mean, I'm okay with relocating your shoulder, but I'd like to avoid it."

"I'm not dumb enough to shoot from it without my quirk, Max."

"Just sayin' pal", he shrugged.

"Max..." Jalyn pulled out almost 60-cm long revolver. "What the fuck is this?"

"Oh, that's .500 S&W Magnum, pretty powerful stuff, I might add."

"Are you supposed to hunt elephants with that or something?" the kid asked while examining the gun.

"Fuck if I know, but I wouldn't shoot a person from this bastard. Wanna try it out?"

"Yep."

"Okay, FN, Deagle and .500th, right? Magazines are in the locker next to the ammo one, start loading them with 5.7 and .50 ammo," he paused. "And prepare the dummies, I'll go get some concrete blocks."

"Why the hell do I need concrete blocks?" the kid asked.

"For Magnum, of course. Do you really think that the usual target would be enough to show how fucking insane that thing is?" he spread his hands.

Jalyn took out 5 magazines for Desert Eagle and 15 for Five-seven and opened their ammo boxes, putting the rest back in the locker.

I wonder if I'll be able to multitask with my tendrils, he thought, releasing them. So it's 7 rounds for Desert Eagle and 20 for Five-seven.

He created a Blackfire platform and sat on it, while his tendrils were loading all the magazines with bullets simultaneously. He took a Magnum, released the cylinder and pulled 5 .500 bullets from the box with tendrils and put them inside it, closing the cylinder afterwards.

He stood up, went up to the range, placed the Magnum on the table and picked the Five-seven. One of his tendrils brought the filled magazine to his left and he nonchalantly picked it up, slid it up the gun, pulled the slide back, put the gun down, did the same procedure with Desert Eagle, sent a wave of Blackfire inside the room with dummies, felt the room out, solidified the Blackfire and brought 3 of them.

"Done already?" Max came back a couple of minutes later, carrying five concrete blocks in his hands. "Your quirk really is convenient, isn't it?"

"Yep," he took the blocks from him, "You'll end your back if you'll keep carrying so much weight on your own."

"Aww, you're so considerate, kid," he said.

"You could've asked me to bring them in the first place."

Max lifted his index finger and opened a mouth to respond, then put the finger down and scratched the back of his head. "Just put them on the range and start shooting already."

The boy chuckled.

He stood at the shooting range, blocks 50 meters away from him on pillars he created.

"So, how should I do it?" he looked at Max, immediately alarmed by his sly smile. "You're not gonna tell me, do you?"

"I don't wanna make things too easy for ya, pal, so you're on your own," he sat on a chair and put one leg on top of the other. "Have fun."

The boy sighed and lifted his right arm, aligned Magnum's sights, covered his shoulder, elbow and wrist with Ebony Armor, held his breath...

And shot, instantly falling on his ass from recoil, causing Max to laugh like a madman.

"Nice shot, pal," he said and started laughing again. "10 outta fucking 10."

"I forgot about my footing," he stood up and prepared to shoot again only to see leftovers of the block: its lower half was on the pillar while the higher half's pieces were scattered all around the range. "Holy shit," he said flatly

"That's kinda weak reaction, pal," Max said. "That block was fucked over really badly, and that's all you've got?"

"I was expecting something like that."

He assumed his shooting position, but this time he anchored himself to the ground by creating a few tendrils from his back and calves. I hope that'll stabilize me.

The rest four shots from the revolver went quite smoothly, much to Jalyn's satisfaction and Max's mild annoyance. "Come the fuck on, kid, you're killing all the fun."

The boy picked up Desert Eagle and started shooting at the dummies, missing from time to time, but mostly delivering successful headshots and body shots. The gun felt somewhat clunky and slow. Low ammo capacity was an issue as well.

Five-seven, on the other hand, felt way smoother and had a pretty decent firing rate, its mass also allowed him to shoot easily and not to worry about recoil even without Ebony Armor. Overall, he preferred it more than the two before.

"Well, you'll need a lot of practice with your aim, but it's not too bad," he looked at his watches. "Holy crap, it's 8 pm already, is there anything you want to test out before bed, buddy?"

"Yeah, I want to see how long I can use Full-body Ebony Armor before blacking out."

"Go ahead, then. I'll make sure that you won't fall too hard," he gave him a smile.

The boy closed his eyes, took a deep breath, bent his arms at elbows and let the Ebony Armor cover his whole body.

He then opened his eyes and moved around a bit, exhaustion slowly growing inside him.

A few minutes later his body went limp, his consciousness left him and he began to fall forward, Max instantly caught him.

He carried him to his room, put him in his bed, covered him with a blanket and patted his head.

"You did great today, pal," he muttered, smiling softly. "I'm proud of ya."

He looked back at the boy when he was about to close the door.

"Good night."

Thanks for reading.