A/N: Hey guys! SteinMon here! Sorry for the delay.
It was my intention to have this chapter out Saturday, but my computer decided to max out it's DISK usage for no good reason, so I ended up spending the better part of the weekend trying to figure out what was wrong. One 10 hour deep scan, and a full system update later, the issue is... mostly resolved. Still, it's functional for now, and that's what counts.
That being read, I welcome your Reviews. If you have criticisms, I welcome those too. Please keep them constructive. I want to grow as an author, and I can't do that if people aren't willing to critique, or only want to tear me down. I'm not here to please everybody, but I am here to learn. There is a method to my madness, even if I don't always fully understand it. 90% of what I write, I don't write baselessly. If there is something not canon or changed from canon, there is generally a reason. If something doesn't make sense, feel free to let me know (constructively), and as long as it doesn't creep into SPOILER! territory, I'll do my best to explain it.
If you don't like it, DON'T CONTINUE READING IT!
Review Responses:
- "Guest": Thanks!
- HitGamer22: Those will be explained further when they become more or less relavant. For now, just think of it as a seperate 'Skill' system alongside his regular 'Skills'.
- Eshandist: Aw! You're gonna make me blush!
- Camsonius: Hopefully I can avoid that pitfall, though there might be some training montages in the future. Just a heads up. I think part of that pitfall is that the character is absorbed in the "game" aspect, that the "reality" aspect of the world they inhabit ultimately takes a backseat. It becomes all about the "game", and everything else is background noise.
I like the idea of involving Marcus early. Gives him a chance to grow with the rest of the cast so to speak instead of being plopped down in the middle of the plot. I think OP or under-powered characters have their place; it's mostly about them having a detriment or a flaw, and having them overcome that flaw, even if it isn't necessarily physical. But yeah, Stu's and Sue's get no love from me; especially when they have the personality depth of a rock.
If I give my sources for the timeline, then there might not be many surprises left. I'll hold onto that card for now. Agents of SHIELD might make an appearance, just depending on how badly Marcus ruins the timeline. He's operating as a casual observer of the MCU, so not all of his knowledge is going to be exact, or even accurate.
Unfortunately, Fanfiction is the only sight I've spent any credible time on, and that was mostly because it was my introduction to fanfiction in the first place.
- shadowpanther93: No problem!
- Kingofsilver: Thanks! Sys will always have a place in Marcus's head. Unfortuantely, due to it's nature, it's largely limited to only mental interactions with only Marcus, so it's a tough thing to add even more.
Marcus is largely going to learn like a regular person. No special tricks, because he's going into everything blind and virtually uncoordinated, much like most people would. Though I'm not opposed to Marcus pulling some fast ones with the inclusion of 'Inventory'. Making coins disappear would be an interesting train of story.
- tobikempachi: Well at least one of us knows what they're talking about, and it ain't me.
- LoudOpinions: Not sure how to address this with 100% politeness, but here it goes.
As opposed to what? Everything presented isn't necessarily to make you care. I understand that the character hasn't been established; that's why those sentences and paragraphs are necessary. They are the beginning point of establishing his characterization. That he is human, and capable of the emotional range of a human. That he's affected by loss and grief and regret, and ultimately is carrying those things over to this new world. Which is more than I can say for... most any Isekai MC I've encountered thus far.
Sorry, but I'm not sure what your trying to get at by writing that there's not enough to establish him, when you just pointed out that you skipped the parts that are literally attempting to doing just that. That is on you.
And as to addressing things briefly? Less than a thousand words dedicated to him reflecting on his family before he gets [Gamer's Mind] to numb his response is pretty friggin' brief in the large scheme of a story. I'd say I'm sorry I didn't think to make him a stereotypical Isekai MC with a bland personality, the emotional depth of a bent spoon, no credible background prior to getting transported, and literally no attachment to his former world. But... I'm not. And I'm sorry you don't seem to like, or understand, attempts at creating a complex character.
- Daisy00051: Thank you. And here's that next chapter!
*End of Responses
Disclaimer: I don't own the Gamer, or the Avengers, or any of their subsidiaries. Those rights belong exclusively to whoever owns them, and anyone else who had a hand in their creation. I just get to have fun with it all.
I would also like to point out that I don't own any other media or content that may be mentioned as further enrichment to the story.
Without further ado. *Que the dimming of the lights*
Chapter 4: The Next Step Forward
To his joy, his System endorsed library card worked! It meant he didn't have to spend copious amounts of time holed up in the library in order to expand his knowledge.
It was a wonderful sight when he opened his 'Inventory' and found the three books he'd picked out. Unfortunately, unlike Skill Books, he had to read them manually. He just hoped he got everything he needed out of them. One included some potential meditation techniques to finally break through the current cap on [Meditation, self-taught], another was a English to Russian dictionary (for local reasons), and Sun Tzu's "Art of War". Even if he was never going to be a great military tactician, it couldn't hurt. Because if there were any other ways for a scrub like him to prepare, he didn't know.
Plus, "Art of War" had been on his 'To Read' list forever, and it had been collecting dust.
After that though, he really wanted to check out that "The Men Behind the Shield", an autobiography compiled by the Howling Commandos. He figured it would at least make an interesting read to stave off the boredom between improving his skills. Plus, it seemed like the kind of thing that every high school history teacher assigned his student to read in this world. Might as well catch up with the curicullum a little bit.
Speaking of 'Skill Books', he'd received [Knife-Wielding] from that quest with the Russian Thugs. While he was sure he would have gained a 'Skill' without the book, it removed the necessity to.
[Knife Wielding (Passive) lvl 2 (32%)
Make sure you bring a "real" knife to a fight.
Knife additional damage is added to STR. Handling is improved with DEX.
Passive:
+2% to Damage when wielding a Knife.
+2% to Attack Speed when wielding Knife.]
.
And he was sure he could put it to good use….
Almost dispassionately, he slid the bayonet across the palm of his hand, barely wincing anymore at the sting of pain.
[You took 16 points of damage.]
He could already feel his sting of his skin knitting back together. It would only take a few minutes. While the self-mutilation might have seemed a bit… unstable… it did serve a purpose.
[Blade Guard (Passive) lvl 4 (86.1%)
Improves the user's resistance against 'Slash Damage'. Though their method to obtain this skill was questionable.
Passive:
-4% to 'Bleed' -based Inflictions.
1% Slash Damage Resistance.]
.
Sue him. He wasn't even sure if he could get 'resistance' type skills, so he'd checked in the most efficient, safest, and controlled way possible. Technically, letting someone stab the shit out of him would have worked, but he wasn't a fan of that method. Which unfortunately involved slicing and letting himself heal over and over again. Which also lead him to the other skill he'd developed.
[Fire Retardant (Passive) lvl 1 (93.6%)
Improves the user's resistance against 'Fire Damage'. Again, with the purposefully hurting yourself to get a skill!
Passive:
-1% to 'Burn' -based Infliction.]
.
Unfortunately, the lighter he had gotten from his 'Survival' cache wasn't leveling the skill very fast, and waiting to burn himself on his stove was also kind of dumb. He could handle pain in small increments, but full on slamming his hand against a burning hot stove? Full on stabbing himself in the leg? Yeeeah no. He wanted skills, not a self-harm fetish.
But speaking of which….
[Pain Mitigation (Passive) lvl 2 (53.9%)
The user has developed a resistance to pain after repeatedly being a dumbass, instead of letting it develop naturally through combat.
Passive:
-2% to 'Pain' -based Inflictions.
+2% Pain Resistance.]
.
'Yeah, yeah. Love you too, Sys.' And to think, this fit being a 'Masochistic Gamer'.
While he knew it wasn't exactly… healthy looking… he was doing it to prepare for future bullshit he was aiming for, be it thugs or aliens, and fortunately, it came with skills. It was such a small thing in comparison.
Honestly though, if he had thought about it sooner, he probably would have done it even then. He was still coming up with new skills. He had a list he was slowly going through, just to check. He hadn't even gotten to sticking a fork in an electrical socket to see if he could get some form of 'Electrical Resistance'. Yet. Might start by shoving his thumb in the light socket though.
His hand now fully healed, he drew another line across his palm. He already hated what he'd have to get hit by in order to level said skills at their higher increments; much less when he'd have to start amending for 'Piercing' and 'Bludgeoning' damage. Assuming of course those damage resistances existed. At least he could get them started in a more controlled environment before he was hit with their more lethal substitutes.
As his hand began the process of 'regen', he began the finishing dregs of the book he was reading at his apartment, the binding set at his coffee table. "Chakra Cleansing and Healing" was a droll read, but if there was a place to start building on his limited knowledge of meditation, it was there.
'Besides the fact that there are several types of meditation,' he grumbled. He'd probably experiment with a few of them to see if they appeared as different skills; probably similar to how [Unarmed Mastery] was separate from the different styles of unarmed combat.
"Let's see if it works," he hummed, his hand already scabbed over. With no further prompting he readjusted himself into the familiar Lotus position, sighing as he already felt some irritability beginning to crawl along his back, counterproductive to his attempts. "In order now."
[The Root, or Muladhara, Chakra is located at the base of the spine.
It deals with stability and security. It is blocked by anxiety, and overwhelmed by greed.]
'Aaand, Sys is my own personal guru now.' No complaints though. It was just odd hearing the Guru from Avatar: the Last Airbender speaking over the Systems prompts.
Or maybe it was doing that on purpose?
[Quiet. I'm trying to help.]
[The Sacral, or Svadhisthana, Chakra is located below the navel.
It deals with passionate feelings and sexuality. It is blocked by apathy, and overwhelmed by over-sensitivity.]
.
[The Solar Plexus, or Manipura, Chakra is locate at the navel.
It deals with confidence and self-control. It is blocked by indecision, and overwhelmed by aggression.]
.
[The Heart, or Anahata, Chakra is located in the center of the chest.
It deals with love and compassion. It is blocked by cold-heartedness, and overwhelmed by a suffocating presence.]
.
[The Throat, or Vishuddha, Chakra is located in the throat.
It deals with self-expression and communication. It is blocked by lying, and overwhelmed by gossip.]
.
[The Third Eye, or Ajna, Chakra is located between the eyes.
It deals with insight and intuition. It is blocked by dependency, and overwhelmed by an over active imagination.]
.
[The Crown, or Sahasrara, Chakra is located at the top of the head.
It deals with wisdom and enlightenment. It is blocked by rigidity, and overwhelmed by overthinking.]
.
'Noted. Root Chakra: Blocked. Sacral Chakra: Extreme flux. Solar Plexus Chakra: Relatively balanced? May be blocked. Heart Chakra: more blocked than not. Throat Chakra: balanced. Third Eye Chakra: balanced. Might slip into overwhelmed though. Crown Chakra: Overwhelmed. Definitely.' Marcus went through each carefully and honestly. If there was a chance it could improve his [Meditation, self-taught] skill, then it would be worth it.
Even if it meant being dirty honest with himself.
"Recommendations?" he asked.
[Start with the easiest to see if the reward is worth it.]
"It's Marvel. Everything has something useful, even if it seems like bullshit in my old world. Add you and the Gamer ability to it, and it's guaranteed."
[Says the guy who meditated so much recreationally in his old world that he got a MAXED 'Skill' out of it in this one.]
"Fair enough." Sighing, readjusted his body, taking deep, calming breaths as he reached for what he sought. His Vishuddha Chakra should be his clearest, but there was no telling when he wasn't sure how exactly all of the details translated out.
He opened his mind to it though; imagining a light blue sphere of energy nestled right in his throat, every breath coursing through it, stirring it like a pot of water. It was a pool of energy that already existed within him, not a separate source. He was simply letting it run, unimpeded, but not overflowing. Balanced.
Mentally, he reached out for it, imagining how it hummed and buzzed with ambient sound. He'd never had issues with gossiping, and while he struggled sometimes with expressing himself (because words were hard, damnit!), he did his best not to lie. If he couldn't speak the truth, silence was best.
He didn't know how to describe it, the brief interaction enough to alter… something.
[You have balanced your 'Vishuddha Chakra'.
Unlocked Trait 'Chakra Meditation'.]
[Chakra Meditation (Uncommon)
The user has progressed to clean and balance their chakras, leading to more efficient distribution of their lifeforce and energy throughout their body.
Chakras Balanced: 1.
Vishuddha (Throat) Chakra – +1% SP and MP efficiency. +5% to Sound-based abilities.]
.
"Not bad," Marcus stated, not opening his eyes just yet as he slowly brought himself out of his meditation. "And it will only get better with each one. And if the mythologies behind it are accurate, the results should even be exponential."
Though, he wasn't sure where he was going to get Sound-based abilities.
[That was just the easy one though.]
"True," he admitted.
[It's too bad it didn't upgrade your 'Meditation' skill.]
Marcus just shrugged. There was a chance it wouldn't work. At least he got a decent 'Trait' out of it, even if it was kind of lackluster at the start. But, most 'Skills' were when they were starting off. "It's all good. Just means that wasn't the one to do it."
[What do you normally do when you meditate?]
"Normally?" He sat back and thought about it for a moment longer. "Normally, I'd listen to some music. Just put my headphones on and let everything else just fade away."
[You got a preference?]
"Yeah, why? You got built in Spotify or something?"
[…
…
…]
"No. Fucking. Way," he muttered. "Are you fucking serious?!"
[I mean, has Spotify even been invented yet?]
"Not the point!" he growled, leaning back with a thump. "I could have been jamming out this whole time." Another prevalent thought came to mind. "Wait! Does that include the music from my time? Or are we strictly on current time?"
[…It might include some songs you're familiar with.]
"Free of ads?" Marcus practically whimpered. "Or do I have to pay a fee for that?"
[Don't get cute. You didn't ask about it, so I didn't say anything.]
"You mean 'write'?" he asked petulantly.
It was silent from their stand-off, neither saying anything as Marcus quirked an eyebrow and Sys… he wasn't actually sure what Sys was doing. Brooding maybe? No, Sys was pouting. Definitely pouting.
['Empathic Reception' skill has gained a level.]
'Ha! I'm right!'
"So what do I say? 'Music'?" To answer, a familiar blue screen popped up, complete with an entire playlist bar. Just a periphery glance over it showed some of Marcus's preferred music. Marcus deadpanned at the wall, staring straight through the menu. "I hate you. So much right now.
"But I hate me even more for not even considering it. Especially since you set up "Abandon Ship" as my wakeup alarm, and I didn't even notice. What's next? There an in-game store I can buy gear from?"
[From the System? No. This is Single Player, not an MMORPG.
Could you imagine how broken that would be if you could just order what you needed, as you needed it?!
So you still have to operate the store on your own.]
.
"And here I was wanting to spam rocket launchers for days in the late-game," he muttered. It's fine. He was… okay at Single Player games. Maybe he'd find something similar once he got the right 'Skill' for it, the same way he'd had to use a map in order to unlock 'Map'.
Gingerly though, he glanced at what was about to be one of his new favorite features. "So, can anyone else hear it?"
[Nope. Completely isolated.]
'So I can blast my tunes without the neighbors complaining.' He was kind of glad if he was honest. He'd been powering through this whole Gamer experience, he'd forgotten to live a little. Then again, he was pretty sure a looming warzone hanging over his head was a pretty good reason.
And what warzone didn't need some tunes to spice it up a little.
Silently, he began scrolling, noting how current some of the songs were; and even better, some of his favorites that wouldn't be seen for another decade, if at all in this world. But he had to put a pause on his scrolling, still needing to find something to meditate to. 'Doesn't have to be perfect. Just something that'll help me relax.'
Smiling softly, he clicked play on the song, settling back into the Lotus position.
[Playing "Alone in a Room" by Asking Alexandria, 2017.]
As it began playing, he began matching his breathing, letting his other senses dull and fade he sank deeper into the rhythm. For a moment, he made sure to relax, tensing entire muscle groups before letting them ease and relax back to stationary. Almost unbidden, every exhale became an attempt at harmony that hummed within his throat.
He forgot the world for a while, pleasantly lost amidst the harmony. Even so far as to completely forget that he had done this to upgrade – or at the very least, create – a 'Skill'. He could almost feel his energy (be it MP or SP) flowing in-tune throughout his body; beating with every gentle pulse of his heart beat.
For a brief four minutes, Marcus was completely at peace. In contrary to his existence in this Universe.
[Seeking deeper within yourself, you have evolved a skill.
'Meditation, self-taught' has been removed.
Upgrading to 'Harmonic Meditation'...
...]
.
[Harmonic Meditation (Passive & Active) lvl 1 (23.3%)
The users sense of self has internalized into connecting with the tones and vibrations of their own body, creating harmony from within.
Passive:
+1% to Buff duration and effects
-1% to Infliction duration and effects.
+1% Skill Acquisition.
Active:
+11% HP, MP, and SP regen/minute.
-11% Hunger and Thirst accumulation.
It is easy for the user to be knocked out of their meditative state. User is briefly 'Stunned' when this applies.]
.
Marcus was almost disappointed when he came out of it as he was hit with more prompts from the System. But funny enough, whatever balance, equilibrium, or calm he'd achieved within, it lingered. However, his [Passing Guilt] Trait would probably reduce the effect.
Groaning as he stretched the stiffness from his overly relaxed limbs, he blinked the soft tiredness from his eyes. "Hey Sys, what's the time?"
[The time is 10:28 AM.
Can you not treat me like a more advanced (and much prettier) Alexa?]
"Sooo… Cortana then?"
[I will hurt you… somehow.]
"Love you too, Sys," he commented cheekily as he stood up, overall, having succeeded what he set out to do that morning. He rummaged through his laundry basket, pulling out some ruffled but clean clothes to get dressed for his day off.
Because, yes, he'd bought more of those after having to toss his more bloodied versions. He'd almost forgotten how expensive simply existing could be, and clothes were up there.
Basketball shorts, a t-shirt, and his best friend, a hoodie. The day wasn't going to experience itself.
Making sure to lock up, and avoid his nosey neighbors, Marcus donned his backpack, and went for a jog.
[Due to your working out and exercising frequently, your STR, VIT, and DEX increased by 1.]
Fists on leather echoed softly as Marcus continued to beat into the punching bag, ignoring the fact that he seemed incapable of sweating as he practiced. [Pugilism Style] was advancing fairly well for something he did recreationally, though [Unarmed Mastery] wasn't advancing as fast. His theory was that it would advance faster dealing damage against actual people.
[Pugilism Style lvl 2 = 5]
[Unarmed Mastery lvl 4 = 5]
He continued striking, landing imaginary body shots, before ducking and dodging at a perceived strike back, then laying in a shot at where the diaphragm would be. Uppercut, sidestep, side strike, step back, hard straight. Fighting a battle he simulated.
It seemed to hit a crescendo when he activated [The Zone], his focus suddenly sharpening as the added SP regen was rapidly expended with a [Power Strike] unleashed between empowered combos to maximize how much SP he utilized while simultaneously regenerating it. With the additional 30% effectiveness courtesy of an active [Pushing Limits], he felt like a jack hammer.
Almost by design, he jumped back before [Sprint] kicked him back forward in a near blur as he came in for an augmented strike that put all his power and momentum into it.
[You have created a new skill through repetitive action.
'Charge Attack' skill obtained.]
[Charge Attack (Active) lvl 1 (16.4%)
The user maximizes damage by putting their full momentum and power behind a single attack.
Damage is based off STR, movement speed, attack speed, and additional modifiers.
Current Damage: 22+45%+20%+5%=37.4
With Sprint: 22+(45% x2.5)+20%+5%=52.25
Cost: 50 SP/charge.]
Ignoring the skill he gained, he continued to focus on his workout, coming back in with another combo followed with a [Power Strike]. He kept a tab open so he could keep a peripheral eye on his SP, burning through it as he continued to unleash a tempest of blows against the punching bag.
He felt the transition as his SP hit 0, and [Pushing Limits] passively began to substitute for his limited MP, until it began switching back and forth between his differing energy types as they regenerated back and forth.
And still, he pushed. Demanding more of himself and his 'Skills'.
Eventually it all timed out. The amass of 'Skill' usage finally exhausted his MP and SP both, never mind the 1% efficiency gained from [Chakra Meditation], leaving him huffing tiredly as he grabbed the punching bag with both hands, leaning his head against it. As soon as he stopped tasting his lungs, he took a few deep breaths before he began humming a familiar tune, focusing all his intent on it. Standing with his head against the punching bag, he gently activated his [Harmonic Meditation], feeling as he began recovering slightly faster.
[!'Pugilism Style' skill has gained a level!]
[!'Power Strike' skill has gained a level!]
[!'The Zone' skill has gained a level!]
[You have pushed beyond your current physical limits for an extended period of time, your STR, VIT, and DEX increased by 1.]
[Finished 'Working Out'
+23 EXP]
He nodded in appreciation. Half wondering if there was a way to level VIT a little more individually. 'Then again, all my Stats are still relatively balanced.' And he hadn't spent too many of his 'Skill Points'. He still didn't know how he wanted to build himself there, even with all those options for powering up at his disposal.
The sharp sound of clapping knocked him out of his [Harmonic Meditation], briefly stunning him for a few crucial seconds. But it still surprised him at the 'Status Infliction'.
"That was impressive." Marcus turned to see one of the other boxers was smiling down at him from the boxing ring. "But the bag seems kinda beaten down."
'[Observe, Inspect].'
{Rouise Domingo lvl 16
"Boxer-in-Training"
Max HP: 710 | Max MP: 580 (locked) | Max SP: 760
Damage: Unarmed
Hit: 36, small chance of inducing 'Staggered'.
Staggered – temporarily negates any guard mitigation against damage.
Armor: 1.
Status: Healthy. Curious.
Weakness: Overconfidence. Short-fused.}
.
'Well damn, Sys. Tell me his Date of Birth and Social Security while you're at it.'
[Hardy-har-har-har! You're hilarious.]
'One of us has to be.'
When Marcus didn't verbally answer, the boxer continued. "Tell ya what, how 'bout we spare a few rounds? Hmm?"
Marcus went over the calculations quickly in his head, doing his best to approximate his stats as he took a drink from his Water Bottle, keeping himself hydrated. 'STR and VIT are clearly higher than mine. Both are easily over 25. My base INT is clearly higher, even if he technically has more MP. Though his Stats per level seem to be lower than mine. Closer to +30 per level as opposed to my +50. And those Thugs before hand were closer to +10.' Unlike the Thug's he'd fought, this guy had the stats to back his level.
But that made Marcus wonder, what led to that difference in Stat per level?
"That's a nice thought," he said gently. "But no thanks. I'll pass."
The boxer just snorted. "C'mon! Just one round! I need someone to practice with."
Marcus tried to let him down easy. Now for letting him down hard.
"No, but thanks anyway. I'm sure someone else is available," he stated firmly, returning his attention to unwinding his wraps. Thank the System for [Gamer's Body] and HP regen. The soreness and stiffness in his hands was already fading.
Mister Domingo took exception to the bare face of his words rather than the full spectrum of it, his face dropping for a moment before he angrily lifted the ropes to get out of the ring. Luckily for Marcus, the boxer-in-training's trainer was already on it.
"Rouise! What the fuck are you doing?!" a sharp voice demanded. "Get back in the ring!"
The boxer snarled, continuing to glare at the side of Marcus's head. "Get back here you coward!"
['Empathic Reception' skill has gained a level.]
Marcus sighed in disappointment at the headache beginning to build up. He'd had a good day, a good workout, and it hadn't been too busy at work. He didn't want to deal with a weak-willed, over-compensating, man-child that couldn't handle being told 'no'. With that kind of head on his shoulders, he wasn't going to last long in the circuit.
Putting his wraps in his 'Inventory', he quietly shouldered it, ignoring whatever Rouise Domingo was sending his way.
"That's gonna come back to bite you in the ass," George commented from his counter as Marcus passed.
"He's the one who's going into Boxing with a hot head," Marcus returned.
George gave him a 'what can you do?' shrug as he continued to overlook the gym. "You could always give it a shot too ya know."
Marcus blinked. "Huh?"
"Boxing," George clarified with a snort. "He wasn't wrong. Those combos were impressive to watch.
"Run the minor circuit in New York. Fight one, maybe two times, a week. Average of two thousand dollars a fight at minimum. Maybe more if the crowd is decent."
When Marcus didn't answer immediately, George hummed. "Just think about it. You got talent, kid. You made a lot of progress in only a week, but the best experience is against actual fighters."
"I'd rather have a good head on my shoulders," he retorted, before sighing again. "Besides, I only have the basics down. Not gonna win any fights there."
"Just food for thought," George shrugged. "And if it's training your missing, I'd be happy to run your ass into the pavement."
Marcus just snorted back in response before his mood grew sober. "I'll… I'll think about. No promises otherwise."
"That's as good as I'm gonna get from ya," the old man sighed. "Just try not to aggravate the other patrons while you do so."
"No promises there either," Marcus smiled before walking for the door. "See ya soon."
With a wave, he continued on his way out of Fogwell's Gym.
Matt knew it was him before he'd even said a word.
If he ignored the fact that he could smell him through the otherwise overwhelming haze of coffee beans and dairy/non-dairy products before he approached, the tempo and weight of each of his steps were unique enough. Maybe it was the distinction between the sound of his breath exiting his mouth compared to everyone else's. Or maybe it was the fact that the ambience that surrounded him caused the hair on Matt's arms to erect like static.
Or maybe it was the odd, almost mechanically calm rhythm of his heartbeat.
Still, he didn't say anything, sitting silently as though he hadn't noticed anything at all.
"Hey Matt," an exhausted voice greeted, taking a seat right across from him. "Sorry for making ya wait."
"Mark. It's no problem," he greeted back with a small smile, turning his head ever so slightly in his direction. He frowned though. "You doing alright?"
"Yeah," Marcus assured, "just tired. Full day of work, got done at the gym, and had to deal with some guy wanting to spar with me, even after I told him no. No biggie though."
"Sparring at a gym?" Matt inquired.
"Yeah, I picked up boxing recreationally," Marcus answered easily. "Started going to Fogwell's Gym to keep in shape. Can't exactly do that by busing rock glasses all day."
"Fogwell's, huh," he stated thoughtfully, ignoring Marcus's attempt to make a joke.
"You know it?" The curious lilt in his voice didn't completely mask the knowing in his voice, and Matt couldn't fathom what he thought he knew.
"Yeah. My dad… he was a boxer," Matt admitted with a sad and proud smile. "He trained there."
"Didn't happen to know an old fart the name of George McKinnon, did he?" Marcus asked with a good-natured grumble.
Matt just chuckled. "He still kicking?"
"More than kicking. He helped get me started," he admitted shyly. "I didn't even know how to throw a proper punch, so he showed me."
"Yeah, I saw George around a lot when he was training my dad," Matt stated before cocking his head around so-so. "Or at least, back when I could see."
"Was he good? Your dad I mean," Marcus inquired.
Matt hesitated a moment. "He lost… a lot. But he could take a hit, you know?
"But he kept getting back up."
Marcus smiled. "Sounds like he was a real tough bastard."
Matt huffed out a laugh. "That's one way to put it." There was a gentle silence that permeated around them as they continued to sit in amicable silence. "Did you want to order something, or…?"
"Mm? Yeah. Yeah." Marcus quickly got up. "Did you want something?"
"Just black is fine," he answered, waiting patiently as Marcus approached the front counter and made their orders.
"What can I get started for ya?"
"Uh, could I get a medium espresso, and a… oh geez." Matt almost laughed at how lost Marcus sounded as he tried looking over what Matt assumed was the menu board. Despite the whiffs of coffee and slightly burnt coffee that regularly clung to him, he didn't appear to know anything about ordering it. "Could I go with the Chai Tea, medium please? And could I get a pump of Toasted Marshmallow in that?"
"Yeah, I can do that! And will that be all?" Again, Matt almost laughed. He didn't have to see to know that the barista was flirting with him. He could literally hear her fluttering her lashes at him; and that wasn't to mention the subtle sultry tone she'd asked it in.
"No, I think that's it," Mark stated in the same polite tone one extended to service workers.
'Oh, you poor guy,' Matt humored, having to bite his tongue at how clueless he was. Either he didn't know, or he didn't want to assume, or Matt was just better at picking up signals. Either which way, Matt was here for it.
"Alright, that'll be $8.54. And can I get a name to go with that?"
"Um, Marcus," he answered, as if he had to think for a moment.
"Alright, and we'll have those out for you in a moment," the barista assured.
"Thank you." And with that, Marcus walked back to their table, but not before Matt schooled his features, no matter how badly he wanted to laugh. Listening to Marcus's absent love life was like sensing the middleman between himself and Foggy in that moment: moderately capable, but clueless. "They should have our orders soon."
Matt just gave him an unimpressed look.
"What? There something on my face?" Marcus asked, wiping at his cheek.
Matt was about to retort, but he could sense the subtle twitch in Mark's face as he tried to hold back a laugh. "Haha. Make fun of the blind guy."
"You make it easy since your being all strong and silent. I have to make leaps in logic to guess what you're thinking."
Snorting, Matt was about to retort when he paused curiously, tilting his head ever so slightly.
"Hey. Check that guy out."
"Which guy?"
"That one, there."
"Well, damn! They're both hot."
"Isn't that guy blind?"
"Yeah. That means he, like, sees with his hands and stuff right?"
"I'd hope so."
"And did you see them both smile?"
"Yeah. That other guy's got that sincere clueless look, like he's out of his depth and needs some… guidance."
Marcus noticed Matt's head tilt, quirking an eyebrow at what he could have heard. Judging by the twitching in his cheek, it must've been good. "Care to share with the class, Murdock?"
"Just bits and pieces. Nothing too special," he nodded dismissively, not quite revealing his heightened senses. Flexing his brows in a 'anyway' gesture. "Unless that's what you want to talk about the first time we meet up?"
"Not really." Marcus just shrugged it off. It wasn't like it involved either of them after all, at least, as far as he knew. "So how's University life treating you?"
Puffing out his cheeks in exasperation, Matt huffed, "Doing well enough I suppose, since I haven't been asked to visit my guidance counselor. Finally got my roommate to take his language class seriously."
"Really? What language?" Marcus asked. He'd forgotten this bit from the show.
"Punjabi."
There was a moments pause before Marcus snickered. "He did it to impress a girl, didn't he? Unless he actually plans to use it. What even is Punjabi?"
"Well, yeah. I suppose that part is obvious," Matt admitted. "And I think it's an Indo-Aryan language that originated from Pakistan? Not sure exactly how wide-spread it is."
Marcus just blinked. "Well… you learn something new.
"How did you get him to take it seriously though? I barely passed two years of high school Spanish, and I'm lucky if I remember how to count. And that's just on good days." Then again, Misses Sanders had been more the griping-type than the teaching-type.
Snorting, Matt shook his head. "I told him I'd introduce you two." He shrugged good-naturedly. "He's convinced that you're his replacement as my best friend, and it was surprisingly effective."
It was Marcus's turn to snort. "Glad to be of assistance," he griped sarcastically.
He paused for a moment, unknowingly – or perhaps somewhat knowingly – catching Matt's attention. "So–"
"Got a medium black and medium Chai Tea for Marcus!" a barista called out.
Frowning at the interruption, Marcus just sighed. "Be right back."
While he left to pick up their drinks, Matt silently pondered what had brought him down so quickly.
"Alrighty." Marcus was back, gently setting Matt's cup in front of him while he took a gentle sip of his own. A sharp inhale answered as Marcus burned his tongue.
['Flame Retardant' skill has gained a level.]
"Careful, it's hot," Matt stated.
"No shit, Sherlock," Marcus grumbled, letting his alert pass as he set his cup to the side to cool a little. "Anyway…." Back to business it was. "…so how have you been?"
Before Matt could answer, Marcus continued, "And I mean, how have you really been? None of that 'I'm fine' shit, or I'll use my newfound boxing prowess to kick your ass." It was clear he was joking. Sorta.
Matt paused for a moment, thinking over his answer. "Good, I think. Not great, but… I'm doing better than I was."
Marcus smiled, nodding gratefully. "Good." He moved to take another sip of his drink to see if it had cooled any.
"And what about you? How are you doing?" Matt asked back.
Not expecting the question, Marcus accidently drank a mouthful of his still scalding drink. Between spitting it out and swallowing it though….
['Flame Retardant' skill has gained a level.]
['Pain Mitigation' skill has gained a level.]
'Sooo many curse words upon you, Sys,' Marcus censored.
He moaned painfully, his tongue half hanging out of his mouth from the burning that had gone all the way down his throat.
"Oops," Matt commented.
"I'm… doing okay…ish," Marcus answered slowly, his tongue smacking against his lips as the pain slowly subsided. Thank the System for 'regen'. "I think anyway. Haven't been tagged by any of the local Russians lately."
He sighed though, which was never a good sign. "George offered to train me."
"And that's a bad thing?" Matt asked, though he felt it was a little deeper.
"To fight in the circuit," Marcus admitted.
"Ah." Well, that explained it. Matt grew pensive. "And what have you decided?"
"I haven't yet." Marcus knew it was a good opportunity to train, gain stats, level his skills. But if there was one thing he'd taken away from 'Daredevil', it's that the fighting was more dangerous outside the ring. "It seems like a good opportunity, but… I'm not sure. Not exactly pumped up to get beat up just to earn some quick cash." Even if he'd recover at an accelerated rate.
"Thinks could go south," he continued glumly. "Not just in the ring, but…."
"Some of the gambling on fights can get… competitive," Matt stated firmly, his grip tightening around the table edge. "And some of those people really don't like losing money."
His encounter with Roscoe Sweeney was still fresh in his mind. Almost two weeks too fresh.
Now that he was using someone as a sounding board for his options, Marcus supposed he did have an out. He'd already thought about it, but… it could be the next step. Using it as protection if something went wrong with boxing, while also moving his "plans" forward. It was still risky though. It was always risky.
And that's if things went wrong in the first place. But, knowing the MCU…. 'Nough said.
Then things would have to go positively perfectly right after that to secure his future without ending up in the deepest, darkest pit, never to see the light of day again. That or a loony bin.
"It's high risk, high reward," Marcus agreed. Though the rewards were stacking up pretty quickly.
Marcus had never been a gambler in his old world. Ever. Not his time. Not his money. Not his life. Not for any cheap thrill or iota of adrenaline. He lived quietly, worked quietly, and moved about as safe as possible. And he didn't see himself doing that any time soon.
Now, he was evolving… sort of. He just hoped he didn't become some sort of adrenaline junkie in the process. He like his quiet living, even though the time he sat down to hash out a plan was pointing like he'd be moving further and farther away from it. A… more or less "slight" oversight on his part.
'I'm gonna blame [Gamer's Mind] for the unnecessary risk taking.' He knew it wasn't though. It was all on him.
Still, he sighed reluctantly. "So what do you think?"
Matt seemed somewhat surprised. "You're asking me?"
"You've already told me about the competitive gambling, and that helps," Marcus stated softly. "I'll admit, it wasn't in my initial plans when I came here, but for once… I think I want to try living. Not just surviving.
"Plus, I trust you Matt," Marcus stated easily. "If you say it's a bad idea, I'll believe it, hands down."
Matt blinked in surprise, but quickly focused on the task at hand. "What about your family? Won't they worry if something happens to you?"
['Gamer's Mind' trembles to keep you calm.]
The soft, sad laugh that exited Marcus's mouth took Matt aback. He could even hear the soft, almost painful clenching in his chest as the muscles creaked tighter. "There is no one else," Mark explained slowly. "They're all gone. I'm… I'm alone."
It was silent for a moment. "I'm sorry." It was clear it was a sore subject, a feeling Matt empathized with where it came to his family. "What is it you want to do?"
"Live long, meet a girl, get married, have a couple of sprogs–"
"I mean about the boxing," Matt clarified. He may not have been able to see, but he certainly knew how to roll his eyes, especially at the weak attempt to deflect the conversation.
Marcus snorted at Matt before growing silent.
How many people were going to die in the upcoming years? Good people? Bad people? He didn't know. But he knew, eventually, half the fucking Universe was going to get smited by a genocidal warmonger. Not to mention the people – the heroes – that would die to ensure that the Universe would get its second chance.
But his knowledge of events was lackluster at best, and mostly because the internet spoiled most of the movies for him before he even got the chance to watch them. Lets not even mention anything after Phase 3. He'd worry about that fuster-cluck when he got to it, and hope that natural progression trumped whatever underwhelming Fanfiction came out of that load of hot garbage.
Still, he had all this foreknowledge. All this – gradually increasing – power. All this preparation time, little as it seemed in the interim. He had to use it. If only to create a future where these people could live. Where he could live. At least until the next cosmic level deity decided to commit mass-genocide, or megalomaniac aimed for world domination.
'Funny how that hasn't been made into a quest yet,' he thought pointedly at the System. But that might have been because it wasn't a future set in stone. It wasn't guaranteed to happen right up until Josh Brolin's blue-balled face descended to the planet in all his egotistical grandeur.
Not that there would be much to stop him, even if Marcus had a reach that far
But for now, he was this regular joe, at the bottom of the food chain. Barely even above the level Steve Roger's was before getting doped up.
"It might be a bad idea," Marcus admitted. "But it's a step toward bigger and better things." 'And at the end of it all, I want to strive for, and protect a happier future.'
"I. Am. Iron Man." He hadn't even seen the movie, and it had torn him apart to hear those words. It's why he wasn't going to waste this opportunity; because his heroes lives counted on it. They'd helped save him when he needed it, even if he didn't know it at the time. Maybe he could return the favor.
And wasn't that challenge going to cost him.
"Just a step?" Matt asked, thinking Marcus would stick with the boxing. Clearly, he was aiming bigger.
Smiling faintly, and knowingly, Marcus stated, "It's not the Endgame, Matt. When all is said and done, boxing won't even be a footnote.
"At least, that's the hope."
Matt could literally taste the sadness and hope that seemed to mutedly radiate around Marcus. And something else too. A cold-steel determination that might have made him shiver if he was anyone less.
"Then that's all you need for now," Matt stated, even if the idea of his new friend boxing brought up more… unpleasant memories.
Marcus nodded so-so, seeming to pick up on it. "And maybe someone who knows their way around contracts and bullshit speak?" That little hopeful lilt was directed at Matt.
Snuffing, Matt shook his head in good humor. "I haven't even finished college, much less passed my bar exam."
"Then think of it as practice. Only, if you do a bad job, I get screwed over," Marcus stated casually.
"Oh joy," Matt commented sarcastically.
Marcus thought about it for a moment before nodding. "And while you're at it, maybe invite that roommate of yours. It'll give us a chance to meet and clear the air."
"And what do you get out of all this?" Matt asked. While he didn't think Mark had any malicious motives – because he grew up in Hell's Kitchen, everyone had ulterior motives – he was still curious.
"You mean besides whatever comes with boxing?" Marcus just smiled sincerely. "When you are making partner at some fancy schmancy law firm, I get bragging rights that I was Mister Murdock's first client."
Matt did laugh this time. A whole, full laugh that might have caused a small disruption in the coffee shop. But neither of them cared.
"I wasn't kidding," Marcus protested.
"I know," Matt reassured, "but that's why it's funny." He took a moment to compose himself. "But you know that being a client means paying up, right?"
"I see how it is," Marcus pouted. "Title of 'grubby lawyer' is already rubbing off on you."
Matt shrugged with a smirk. "You're going to get pushed over a lot if you let a blind guy shake you down."
"Yeah, yeah." Marcus waved away his words dismissively, but he smiled nonetheless.
"So what's the rest of the day look like for you?" Matt asked, changing the topic for the time being. They could discuss the details when things were more cemented.
They continued to talk, the conversation easy to keep up for the most part, from their day-to-day, to simpler things like the weather; what Marcus was reading, what courses were giving Matt the most grief. While talking about trivial things wasn't really either of their style, it was easy, and it was a moment of peace.
After some time had passed, Matt excused himself, rolling up his sleeve to reveal a watch.
"They have braille watches?" Marcus asked, intrigued.
"Yep. It feels like it's about 4:37."
"Geez, time flies." Marcus gently shook his coffee, eyebrows raising as he heard a soft slosh before quickly downing his cold drink. "I assume you got homework or something to deal with."
"Yeah." Matt sighed, rolling his sleeve back down. "It was fun though. I'll try to catch you at work sometime."
"Actually… could I get your number?" Marcus asked. "That way I can get ahold of you when I get this boxing thing set up."
"Alright," Matt chuckled, pulling out and offering a pen. At the pause on the other end, he explained, "Everyone always needs a pen."
Shrugging, Marcus accepted the pen, writing down the number as Matt gave it, before giving it back. Gingerly, he slyly pulled his wallet out of his 'Inventory', opening it up and pocketing it within. "And just think, as soon as I start winning these fights, I can buy a phone."
"That is one bright side," Matt agreed, shoulders rolling at the brief sense of unease he'd felt, gently standing up as he unfolded his cane.
"Need me to flag down a taxi for ya?" Marcus asked, also standing up. Carefully, he guided Matt's hand to his shoulder.
"Sure, thanks." Matt let Marcus do his thing, even if he could do it on his own.
Quickly depositing their trash in the cans, they walked outside the coffee shop, heading toward a busier street to hail a taxi.
It wasn't more than a minute later that Marcus suddenly stopped, Matt pausing next to him. His senses immediately dialed from 11 to 20 in alert as his head began flicking in intervals to find whatever had stopped them. "What's wrong?"
"I just realized that barista was flirting with me," Marcus stated, clearly exasperated that he hadn't noticed sooner.
Matt could help it, and laughed out loud, startling some nearby pedestrians.
Name: Marcus Ezekiel Kendrick
Race: Human (standard)
Occupation: Server
Level: 7 (1939/2800)
Title: Masochistic Gamer (+5 STR, VIT, DEX; +25% Cash and EXP)
HP: 560
– HP regen: 3.1% (17.36 HP/minute)
MP: 560
– MP regen: 7.2% (40.32 MP/minute)
– Magic/Mental resist: 5.2%
SP: 590
– SP regen: 8.4% (49.56 SP/minute)
STR: 19 (+5) = 24
VIT: 16 (+5) = 21
DEX: 27 (+5) = 32
INT: 23 (+0) = 21
WIS: 26 (+0) = 26
LUC: 18 (+0) = 18
SKL: 56 | EVO: 1
Currency: $12201.00
– Rate/hour: $13.50 (+25%) = $16.875
Hunger: 67/210
– Standing Drain: 4/hour (96/day)
Thirst: 51/210
– Standing Drain: 6/hour (144/day)
.
.
Passive Skills:
[Vehicle Mastery, novice lvl 8]
[Mechanics, basic lvl 5]
[Firearm Mastery, novice lvl 4]
[Fishing Mastery, novice lvl 11]
[Information Processing lvl 11]
[Cartography lvl 21]
[Empathic Reception lvl 6 = 8]
[Inconspicuous lvl 7 = 8]
[Danger Sense lvl 3]
[Critical Hit lvl 3]
[Unarmed Mastery lvl 5]
[Pugilism Style lvl 6]
[Knife Wielding lvl 2]
[Blade Guard lvl 4]
[Fire Retardant lvl 3]
[Pain Mitigation lvl 3]
.
Active Skills:
[Blade Sharpening lvl 12]
[The Zone lvl 2]
[Adrenaline Rush lvl 1]
[Power Strike lvl 3]
[Charge Attack lvl 1]
.
Passive & Active Skills:
[Pushing Limits lvl Max]
[Climbing lvl 3]
[Sprint lvl 13]
[Inspect lvl 15]
[Observe lvl 16]
[Harmonic Meditation lvl 1]
Author's Note: Don't forget to READ and REVIEW!
Let me know what you guys think. Keep it constructive. And any help balancing or reinventing certain skills would be most helpful.
Until next time.