Chapter 25: Call Me Mr. Fantastic
Elias was currently in gym class at the school gymnasium. At Everett Academy, gym was separated by gender, with girls' and boys' classes held in different gymnasiums. So at the moment, this one was full of teenage male energy—and Coach Carver, with his peacock-like flair, wasn't much better than the students he taught.
Coach Carver had them begin with warm-up stretches. The room was mostly quiet, save for the coach's steady footsteps and sharp corrections whenever a student tried to cheat their way out of proper form. Soft murmurs passed between classmates, broken occasionally by groans from those struggling to hold their poses.
Elias stretched in a way he'd never managed before. He could lean forward, nearly pressed flat against his knees, and reach past his toes.
Syler sat beside him, eyes wide in disbelief. Since when had the guy who couldn't even reach below his ankles become limber enough to touch his toes so easily? Just a week ago, Syler had clearly been more flexible.
"Did you dislocate your joints?" he accidentally asked aloud, a bead of sweat trickling down his neck.
Elias turned to him with a smug grin, wiggling his eyebrows. "This is what hard work and dedication looks like."
Syler's mouth twitched as he flicked Elias's forehead in irritation. Elias rubbed the reddened spot, but his prideful smile didn't falter.
He didn't care about his friend's concern for his joints—he was just excited about his gains. Among the many stats he'd been working on, Dexterity had recently become a focus. While practicing martial arts, he'd realized his lack of flexibility made certain moves awkward. At first, he hadn't even known which stat to blame. But now he understood that, along with fine motor coordination, DEX also affected flexibility.
So, alongside his other quests, he started grinding ones that rewarded Dexterity. Most involved long hours of repetitive movements. They were so boring that his WIL stat had even increased by two points from sheer mental endurance. If he hadn't been listening to his favorite indie rock playlists or watching his favorite shows and anime to pass the time, he might have gone insane.
Those six new points in Dexterity made a real difference. His movements were sharper, his limbs more responsive. He couldn't twist himself into a human pretzel—but for someone who used to fail the sit-and-reach test, it was still impressive.
A system screen popped up in front of his eyes:
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[DEX: 7 → 14]
[AGI: 21 → 23]
[STR: 12 → 14]
[WIL: 16 → 18]
[END: 13 → 15]
[INT: 17 → 19]
[WIS: 19 → 21]
[VIT: 22 → 25]
[LP: 298 → 417]
---
[You have completed Hidden Quest: (UR) Complete 5 DEX-Related Quests in a Row]
[You have been rewarded: Title (UR) The Fine-Tipped Artisan]
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(UR) The Fine-Tipped Artisan
Passive: Your body develops muscle memory for repeated actions 20% faster.
Active: Grants temporary perfection of a fine motor skill-related action for 1 minute. (Cooldown: 1 hour)
---
Elias examined the screen, pleased with his progress. But even with all this growth, he knew he was only slightly above average compared to a fit person like Coach Carver. His memories of Jackal's attack were still fresh.
Jackal wasn't just fast—he was almost inhumanly fast. Even with Elias's skill that increased his speed fivefold, Jackal had kept up. Unless he activated Berserk Sprint, Elias didn't think he could even reach half of Jackal's top speed.
A bitter feeling gnawed at him. He had no idea when he'd be attacked again. Even though he was raising his skills and stats quickly, it didn't feel like enough. The current him might be able to put up a fight—but win? He wasn't so sure. And Jackal hadn't even seemed like he was giving it his all. That thought unsettled him more.
Even with all his progress, he never truly felt safe. The nightmares still came now and then. He could still hear Jackal's footsteps pounding behind him, gaining ground. He could still feel the sudden yank of his collar, the sharp choke as he was hauled back—his vision blurring just before he was slammed into a wall.
Elias trembled ever so slightly at the memory.
He could still see that venomous, crazed, desperate look in Jackal's eyes as the man pointed a gun at him, one foot pressed hard against his throat.
What unsettled him most was the bitter, sinking dread that Jackal might be the easiest enemy he'd ever face.
After all, why would they send their best after a powerless kid?
Based on his father's journal, Jackal likely hadn't crossed the threshold into awakening. As far as Elias understood, iron-tier marked the beginning of supernatural power. Jackal hadn't used any abilities like that—and according to the journal, an iron-tier Awakened wouldn't be killed by normal bullets. Clifford's gun had killed him, which meant Jackal wasn't awakened.
Elias furrowed his brow. What exactly were the criteria for becoming awakened? His father had never written it down. 'Way to drop the ball on the most important part, Dad,' he inwardly grumbled as he switched to another stretch.
It was probably common sense to his dad—so why write it in a journal? Elias sighed and continued.
"Hey, you're really flexible! Impressive! I give it 9 points!" someone babbled beside him. He turned his head, groaning inwardly as he looked toward the source.
Hans beamed as he met Elias's eyes, giving him a double finger-gun and a wink like he was starring in a cheesy 2000s soda commercial.
Elias sighed. He was starting to question whether befriending Hans had been a good idea. For the past few days, Hans had trailed him like a loyal puppy with nonstop chatter and flattery. And while Elias was a normal teenage boy who enjoyed the occasional compliment, even he was starting to feel like his ears were growing calluses.
To his surprise, even Syler, one of the kindest and most patient people he knew, would occasionally roll his eyes when he saw Hans approaching. So it wasn't like Elias was trying to be mean or insensitive toward Hans's desire to make friends—but damn, did he talk a lot.
Hans could talk about everything under the sun—and still make it boring.
But Elias couldn't just back out of what he'd said. No matter how annoying Hans could be, he didn't want him to feel the same isolation and loneliness he himself had once endured before finally making friends.
Meanwhile, Syler had other thoughts. His eyes followed Hans's subtle micro-expressions, narrowing in suspicion. Elias had introduced this new friend a few days ago, and at first, Hans had seemed like your typical chatterbox teenager. But Syler, who had always been good at spotting people with bad intentions, couldn't shake the feeling that Hans's endless chatter and flattery were part of a carefully practiced mask.
He wasn't sure what lay beneath that mask, but instinctively, it felt dangerous—like a wolf in sheep's clothing or a poisonous snake hiding in a flower bush.
Even now, after Hans claimed he couldn't touch his toes, Syler remained unconvinced. To anyone not paying close attention, Hans might've seemed like he was struggling—but Syler noticed the lack of tension in his face, the ease in his movements. There was no real effort behind it. Why pretend to struggle? Why downplay his abilities? Syler couldn't figure it out.
He hadn't said anything to Elias. Elias seemed determined to help this seemingly lonely soul, and Syler had no concrete proof—only a gut feeling. But another doubt gnawed at him. Maybe, just maybe, his first impression of Hans was clouding his judgment. After all, Hans had originally latched onto Kevin and tried to stir up trouble for both him and Elias the other day. Was he just being petty and trying to find excuses not to forgive him?
He fiddled with the drawstring of his gym hoodie, pressing his lips together in frustration at his own indecisiveness and lack of confidence. His thoughts were quickly interrupted, however.
"All right, that's enough warm-up for you wimps! I wanna see you all do some laps!" Coach Carver barked, clapping his hands together. "Get off your butts! Chop! Chop!"
He shrugged off his jacket, revealing a tight muscle shirt that looked ready to split at the seams with one wrong flex. His biceps bulged, his chest strained against the fabric, and he struck a few proud poses like he was center stage. The look on his face practically shouted, "This is peak male performance. Maybe one day, if you're lucky, you'll look half as good.
Unbeknownst to Coach Carver, the students weren't impressed by his muscles so much as they were concerned about whether his shirt would survive until the end of class. Some even started placing bets among themselves.
Then he started jogging alongside the groaning students. None of them dared slack off with him running beside them.
Before his boost in speed, Elias had only been a bit quicker than the average student. But now, with greater stamina as well, he easily stayed at the front during their daily jogs—leaving the class track star in second place, quietly questioning his life choices.
His sudden progress caught everyone off guard. Even Coach Carver—who usually treated him like a bad omen—became oddly enthusiastic and tried to recruit him for the track team. Elias politely declined; he didn't want anything cutting into his after-school questing time.
Unnoticed at the back of the group, Syler watched Elias from afar. He had decent stamina, but he wasn't particularly fast, so he usually lagged behind. His eyes couldn't help but follow his friend—partly with concern, partly with a touch of bitterness.
At first, Elias's sudden improvements had seemed suspicious. But once Syler learned he'd been spending his afternoons buried in intense workouts, it all started to make sense. He also had picked up gardening for some reason—that's besides the point. Syler figured the recent attack had left some kind of psychological scar on his best friend—a guess that wasn't entirely wrong, but it only scratched the surface.
A weight settled in his chest.
Elias had been going through one of the hardest periods of his life—his parents were missing, and he'd nearly been killed by some psycho—yet Syler hadn't truly been there for him. Sure, he'd offered words of sympathy, but in reality, he'd been too wrapped up in his own problems with Kevin to notice how much Elias was struggling.
What stung most was that, despite all of it, Elias had still tried to support him. And emotional stuff wasn't even Elias's strong suit.
Syler's throat tightened, making his run more difficult.
Didn't that make him a bad friend?
Mina and Elias always said he was thoughtful and kind—but was he, really?
His gaze kept drifting back to Elias, guilt gnawing deeper with every step.
From the corner of his eye, Syler saw someone running beside him. He hadn't even noticed when they'd caught up. Turning his head, his face froze the moment he recognized who it was.
Noticing his rigid expression, Hans smiled and waved with a laugh as he jogged alongside him. "Sorry, did I scare you? Didn't mean to!" His eyes widened as if he'd just remembered something.
"Right—I realized I apologized to Elias, but I haven't said anything to you yet. I'm really sorry about the other day. Even if I didn't do anything to you directly, it was still pretty messed up. And you hate Kevin, right? Like, a lot? Sorry, man," Hans added, flashing an awkward smile as he ran.
Syler's eyes narrowed. "I hate him as much as the next guy… and it's fine, I guess. You didn't do anything to me," he said with a defensive frown. He kept a cautious eye on Hans.
'He couldn't know… right? There's no way Kevin would ever tell someone about our blood relation. Especially not to some new kid. Kevin would rather die than let people know I'm his older brother,' he thought, his fists tightening.
Hans gave a knowing smile. "You've been friends with Elias a while, right? He's impressive. Everyone calls him bad luck, but it only seems to hit people who mean him harm. If your intentions are good, nothing happens. He's actually a really nice guy—smart and talented, too. Shame people don't see that."
Syler didn't respond, just watching him.
"Something on my face?" Hans asked with a light laugh.
Syler shook his head. "No… Yeah. It's a shame," he muttered. 'Am I just overthinking it? Maybe he really is just nice.' He frowned and picked up speed, jogging ahead.
Hans watched him go with a playful smile. 'Perceptive little guy, isn't he?' His breathing stayed calm, like he wasn't even running.
His gaze shifted to Elias. 'He's more capable than I thought. I figured he just had his absurd good luck, but now he's showing some real skills. From what I've heard, he didn't used to be this competent. So what changed?' Hans's smile widened, eyes glinting with quiet amusement. 'I'll figure it out. Hopefully before that Takayama girl shows up. There's no way I'll be able to avoid her perception and she's way too strong for me as I am now. So better hurry.'
He picked up speed, easily passing other students. 'Time's ticking.'