1% Lifesteal

Hundred-part harm ye bring unto thine enemy, one part ye shall recover.

Honestly, he hadn't fully understood what the power was until the trader had told him.

The talent it held was 1% Lifesteal. And it had a water affinity.

While the trader was adamant that this was a great power, he had refused the offer almost immediately. Heal for a measly 1 percent of the damage done and have just a single affinity; water, at that? He'd rather have the rat tail.

The trader put the prime away and pulled several others out. It was only after seeing the other offers that Freddy changed his mind.

The trader was willing to part with some seriously valuable stuff; primes even Freddy could tell were worth a pretty penny. Yet he insisted that this would be best for him.

And, after he finally allowed the man to elaborate, it made a lot of sense.

It was the perfect power for someone starting poor and without backing. Well, not perfect. Ideally, he would get something overpowered, but as far as budget talents went, if the man was to be believed, this was a damn good one.

Healing was expensive. A talent like this was perfect for curbing that cost.

While he was more than glad to entertain dreams of fame and vast wealth, the death rate and early retirement numbers for archhumans without a background were staggeringly high. Not to mention that even mortal medical treatment was soul-wrenchingly expensive at times, let alone the services of a specialized healer.

It also presented a rather attractive future prospect. As he went up the ranks, he was excited to discover what types of evolutions it would undergo.

Would he become like an immortal vampire? An unkillable berserker that could face down an army, completely disregarding any injuries he received, merely crushing his enemies to stay in top shape?

Yeah, probably not. But dreams were good. And his heart was filled with hope.

Not much later, it was finally his turn.

When he entered, a tall, tan man with long hair tied into a ponytail practically jumped him, shaking his hand and patting his shoulder. "What's up, my man!? Come on in, sit. You want something to drink?"

"Uh, hi, uhm…" His mind whirled, but there was only one real option to consider. "I'll have coffee if you have any."

"Sure thing, my dude, sit." The man turned around and waved a hand over a crystal surface. Moments later, a cup of steaming hot coffee appeared on it.

He was a little taken aback.

Grabbing the cup, the man placed it right before him while he sat on the opposite side of the table. "Sorry, please wait a minute, uhm…" His words trailed off as he looked at something on a portable screen. "I'm just gonna check something out,"

"Sure thing…"

As long as it doesn't cut my consulting short, he added inwardly.

Putting the screen down with one final glance, the man turned to face him. "So… Let me see what you got."

"Oh, uh, here you go," he said as he handed the man the red ball.

"I like this one." The man smiled as he eyed the stoic prime. "Reminds me a bit of my grandpa," he said with a cheerful chuckle. "What's the talent and affinity?"

"It's uhm… 1% Lifesteal and a water affinity."

The man looked impressed. "Damn… that's nice. Great, even. Especially if you're independent."

The moment the man said that, Freddy instantly sighed in relief. He had been deathly afraid that the trader had sold him some bullshit story. This at least confirmed that he got what he had been promised.

"Hang on a second…" The man turned to the screen again.

He sipped the coffee while he waited… and almost spat it out in shock. It was the tastiest thing he had ever put in his mouth, and nothing seemed to have been added to it.

How expensive is this consulting if this is the coffee you get? he wondered. Geez…

Soon enough, the man looked back at him again, hesitantly taking his eyes off the screen. "So… The first thing I recommend is that you look into moving to a place with a massive body of water or something like a desert. The first will be good if you want to grow reliably, and the second will be wonderful if you want to get paid. The easiest place to delve would be a realm with maybe fire elementals, but I'm not sure if you'll be able to find a spot in one. Now!"

He turned around and pulled a box up on the desk, pulling out three white scrolls and what looked like a large textbook, and handed them to Freddy, who grabbed the neatly rolled-up, high-quality paper and marveled at the smooth feeling beneath his fingers. The scrolls were all sealed with inscribed tape.

The man pointed at them. "These babies right here," he said as he hovered over the scrolls, "all have ether imprints. You just have to look at them, and the abilities will be inscribed into your soul. The first is Frog Leap. That will be your example of using hydraulic pressure for mobility. Second, you have Flowing Rain Martial Arts. It comes with the Water Body tempering technique and Flowing Strike.

"The tempering technique is the generic one for water. Great for basic recovery, excellent for health, and can evolve into a great vitality booster. Unfortunately, you don't get the Flowing River tempering technique with the package. I can't choose your path for you, but I do recommend you get it if you stick to martial arts.

"Speaking of which, now we have Flowing Strike. It's excellent for using the momentum of water in your body in combat. Don't use it to hit anything at first, though, since you will burst your veins and capillaries. Use it on empty air until your body gets used to it.

"Third, this is the Squirt spell. Nothing special. It's just there for practice. It is a great example of how to both materialize water from essence and how to manipulate it. You shouldn't waste any more time on it than you need to. Use the way it feels as a guide to learn the basics of manipulating water, then make the Create Water spell on your own," he said as he moved to the book. "Finally, you have The Basics of Gathering, adjusted for water affinity. Read the whole thing."

He stared at the objects in shock. "For… For free?"

"What do you mean for free?" the man asked, almost insulted at the question. "This comes with the consulting fee. Besides, this is all cheap stuff you can find anywhere."

Still… this was priceless to him. Despite some lingering qualms with his chosen talent, he was starting to think this deal was better than he had thought.

The man frowned suddenly. "Now, about that talent…"

Something about the way the man had said that made his skin crawl. Was there something wrong with it?

The man continued, "I recommend you experiment with it as much as possible. Healing powers are notoriously tricky."

"In what way?" he asked, holding back the anxiety bubbling in his gut.

"Well, for starters, what does 1% Lifesteal even mean?" the man questioned with a frown. "Can you tell me what it said its power was?"

"Of course, it was uh…" His mind froze as he tried to remember the exact words, but the man grabbed the vestige and asked it himself.

Once the vestige repeated the same thing it had previously said, the man set it on the table and sat back with a deep frown.

"Is… Is something wrong?" he asked cautiously.

"There is a lot to say, so I will sum it up as quickly as I can. First, what does enemy mean? Does that mean that it only allows healing from creatures you consider foes? Or is it things that consider you a foe? What about recover? Recover from what? Injuries? Do diseases or disorders count? What about scars? What about something like poison? Would it remove it from your body? What about cancer? Would it kill bacteria or viruses? Could it recover lost limbs?"

"What about the actual damage? One percent of what? Let's say you kill an opponent with a swift stab to their eye. Would it heal you the same amount as if you had destroyed the entire body? If so, would it do it instantaneously or gradually as the cells die? What about the harm thing? Could you set a forest on fire and heal for 1 percent of the damage that did to the creatures within? Would your opponent's bleeding count as damage you've done if you're the one that inflicted the injury?"

He sat there, dazed at the flurry of questions. How the hell was he supposed to know? Wasn't it the consultant's job to tell him this?

The man could tell what he wanted to say based on his expression. "These are all relatively basic characteristics of healing powers. There are different categories of healing quality, and depending on which you get, the quality of the final product could vary drastically. And even then, its quality could be unique and specific to your talent and not on the usual scale. I've seen powers similar to this one before. They only end up being as useful as the technicalities allow them to be," he stated. "Hold on, let's try and puzzle it out a bit."

The man grabbed the prime and repeated the questions, rephrasing some of them several times. The prime either claimed it didn't know the answer, answered extremely cryptically, or simply remained silent.

"I see…" the man said as he handed the prime back. "No offense, but I wondered why that old bastard gave you something this valuable and even added a bonus. I mean, it should be fine, but the exact details are a bit of a gamble. Just out of curiosity, what the hell did you sell him? You don't need to answer if you don't want to, of course."

"I sold him another prime," he answered, mind not fully focused on what he was saying. "Uhm… It had a farming talent and three affinities."

The consultant's jaw dropped, and soon, a smile popped on his face. "You're kidding, right? That's a joke?" The uncertain look on his face was all he needed. "Oh, man. Oh, boy. It wouldn't be this one, would it?" He dragged the screen before Freddy, who took a worried look at it.

He wasn't sure what he was looking at initially, but he soon realized it was some sort of auction site. It took him several seconds to comprehend what he was looking at as the man pointed at the prime vestige he had just sold.

It was at the very top of the list.

"Se-Se-Seve…! Seventy million dollars!?" he screamed as he pulled the tablet out of the man's hands and accidentally dropped it in shock. Thankfully, it didn't break, but that was the last concern on his mind. "What!? How!? No, no, no… this can't be real!" He got up and paced around the room, gripping his head. "I'm gonna sue him. I'm gonna go sue him!"

"Sit down, man!"

"No, I'm gonna fucking kill him!"

"I said sit down!" the man yelled, and a strange power washed over him, sobering him instantly.

He shakily sat down and looked like he had a thousand things to say, but before he could get anything out, the consultant gave him a stern look and spoke in an icy tone, "Be careful with your words. You should be grateful."

"Grateful…?" He breathed out. "For… For what!? He scammed me out of—"

"He probably saved your life."

"Saved… What?"

"If you had known the value of that thing, you would have been dead by the end of the day. There is no way you could put it up for auction anonymously, and if the wrong person found out about what you had, they would take it and bury you before anyone knew what happened."

Those words didn't do much to assuage his anger. If anything, it only made him feel more pissed. "Is there anything else you want to consult me on?"

"Yes," the man barked. "Keep your damn mouth shut. If you run around telling anyone you've been 'scammed' by the association, you'll regret it," he warned. "They take accusations like that very seriously."

"Figures. Give me my damn prime." He grabbed the glass box somewhat violently and stuffed the scrolls into his pockets, rushing out of the office before the man could say anything else.

Just as he was about to leave the building, he spotted the finely dressed gentleman who had given him the glass box.

He pulled his vestige out and returned the box to the man, shooting him a sardonic smirk as he angrily marched past him. "Wouldn't even get away with their life, would they?"

With poisonous thoughts floating in his mind, he soon made it out of the courtyard and onto the open streets of the 25th district.

***

He locked the doors to his apartment, put the prime and scrolls in the chest, and dropped to his bed, exhausted. It was already getting dark outside, and he groaned at the time he had wasted getting home.

The money had been sent directly to his bank account, or, at least, he hoped it had, but he still had to carry the prime and scrolls by himself.

He was rather scared that someone had seen him carrying the prime earlier today, so he avoided leaving through the same gate he had entered through. A few other paranoid detours later, he finally made it back.

Throughout the entire way home, he boiled in rage at what had happened, and by now, he was thoroughly exhausted.

His entire body hurt from the tension, stress, and yesterday's events. The top of his head hurt from when he hit it on the ceiling this morning. Only when he almost passed out did he realize that he hadn't eaten anything for over a day.

He was thirsty as hell, too.

Grabbing a bottle from his fridge, he drank the entire thing and entered the hallway to refill it. The toilet was empty, thankfully, and he was back in his apartment within a minute.

As he sat on his bed again, his mind whirled with thoughts.

What should he do now?

He hadn't expected to become an arch for years, even decades. Despite the eight years Freddy had spent working, all he had saved up was a little over $19,000. One couldn't even dream of buying a vestige without at least a hundred, and even then, saving for a more valuable one was wise.

Well, unless one wanted a rat tail.

That made him angry. When he should be happy at what he had achieved today, he felt… dirty.

Exploited.

Years of backbreaking work, poor living conditions, shit food, zero life—and it suddenly didn't even matter anymore. A little bit of dumb luck, and here he was. Emotions clashed, and he found his thoughts spiraling into a dark abyss.

Before they could sink deep enough, he lightly slapped himself on the cheek and got up. "Thinking about this crap while hungry is bad."

So he decided to go to a store and buy something to eat. On his way out of the building, however, he paused. He didn't… really have to save money anymore, did he?

Rather than leave the building and go buy poverty slop, he turned to the contact device. But before walking over to it, he returned up the stairs.

He knocked on one of the apartments, and he could hear James's voice from within, "Coming!"

Soon enough, the chubby middle-aged man walked out, and his eyes shot wide open when he spotted him. "Freddy!?" he called out, as if he could barely believe who was standing before him. "I-I heard the news! Holy crapperoni, you're damn lucky to be alive!"

"Yeah… it was… Hey, uhm, I'm really sorry about what happened yesterday," he apologized, remembering the rude way he had treated the man and his companion. "I want to make it up to you."

"You're what!?" James shouted. "Freddy, you're out of your damn mind!" The man walked up to him and pulled him into a tight hug. "I wouldn't have been nearly as composed as you were!"

"Still…" He gently pushed him back. "I was thinking… if you wanted to have dinner together."

"Dinner? I was just about to make something we could eat at my…"

"No," he interrupted, "let's order something."

The man paused at that. "I'm… Not to sound like a cheapskate, but—"

"My treat."

James frowned and spat, "No…! I couldn't…"

"James. It's been… Let's just say money isn't a problem for me right now."

That earned him a shocked look from the man, and after a bit more convincing, James finally agreed.

***

"Sorry for the wait!" Freddy entered Sharon's apartment, seeing her and James sitting at the table. Both his and the other man's apartments were too small for guests, so Sharon offered hers instead.

Despite being the largest, it still wasn't all that big. It barely had space for the table.

He had just returned from sending a message to a local restaurant with their order, and soon, their food should be delivered. Once he sat down with them, they silently waited for a few moments.

Eventually, James gathered up the courage to ask, "Can you… Can you tell us what happened?"

He wasn't averse to sharing, but. "Yeah, uhm, you know, how about we eat first?"

They nodded and decided to talk about something else instead. Every subject they brought up felt forced, and conversations died quickly. James talked a bit about his brother and work, while Sharon discussed some recent politics he knew about but didn't care much about.

Then, finally, knocking could be heard from the door.

He got up to get the food and paid the delivery woman in cash, and soon, the three of them were eating some incredible barbecue pork. Nobody asked about the price, but it was clear that it wasn't cheap.

It took great effort for him to hold himself back from moaning at the fantastic meal. It had been years since he'd last had something this delicious. All the stress, worries, and bitterness washed away with each new bite he took.

Sharon pulled a bottle of wine from a cupboard, apologizing for the low quality. To him, who had never tried alcohol, it tasted terrible and likely would regardless of how pricey it was.

Once they had eaten, a few moments of casual conversation transpired. After a brief visit to the toilet that he also used to check on his apartment, he finally readied himself to retell the story.

There was no anxiety. Surprisingly, he didn't feel afraid to share it, and soon enough, it was as if he was retelling some funny anecdote. Naturally, things turned serious whenever the subject got dark, but that lasted only for a few moments.

In the safety of their company, it just seemed so funny. How he mistook the passage for a bright room, killed a monster with a can of beans, the interrogation, the insurance—all of it. There was no way to retell it but through laughter. There was no other way he could.

Ending the story at his meeting with them in the hallway, where he again felt that how they reacted was funny, especially James's reaction, he took another sip of wine. It didn't go down easy, but his frown softened as the previously ingested alcohol kicked in.

Suddenly, James frowned and looked at him, mouth hanging wide open. "Freddy!"

"Wha—" he tried to ask but was interrupted by a hiccup.

"You said money wasn't a problem!" James reminded with a deep frown. "Don't tell me you're cutting into your savings?"

Sharon turned to him as well. "Yeah! I thought you got paid by insurance!"

"No, actually…" he started, pausing dramatically for the reveal. He leaned closer, remembering that his prime was alone in his apartment and making sure to whisper so that nobody would overhear their conversation. "This morning, I manifested a prime vestige."

Dead silence.

It took a while for them to recover from the shock, but as they did, they both got up to shake his hand and congratulate him.

As they sat back down, James asked in a hushed whisper, "Tell us more! What is it!?"

"It was a non-combat one," he said, "with a farming talent."

A slight hint of hesitation flashed on their faces, but they forced it away.

Sharon coughed. "You should try to sell it and see what they're willing to offer! If you get enough money, you can pay for education and get a better job! With that, you could one day afford a better one if you don't want that one!"

James added, "Yeah! But hey, that one might not be bad either! Everyone has to eat! Besides, who knows what kind of mystical plants you could farm!"

Putting the glass down after another sip, he clarified. "Actually, uhm… I already traded it."

They glanced at each other. James was the first to ask, "Well, what did you get!?"

"I got a prime with an… interesting talent, really", he chuckled. "1% Lifesteal. Heal for a part of the damage I inflict."

"Freddy… that's…" Sharon asked, mouth hanging open.

"A combat talent, yeah," he confirmed what she left unsaid.

"Are you insane?" she asked sternly.

"No…" he denied with a frown. "Why would I be?"

"I don't know how you afforded the difference," she spat, "but you should immediately trade it for a non-combat one!"

"I don't wanna do that," he rejected with a frown.

James piped up, "Man, please don't take this the wrong way, but… you're damn lucky to be alive. You've gone through something like that and still haven't learned your lesson!?"

"And what lesson am I supposed to learn?" he asked pointedly.

Sharon yelled, "It's dangerous!"

James turned to her and grabbed her shoulder to try and calm her down, but she continued, "I lost a father and an uncle to stupid dreams of being a warrior. Our entire family's savings were gone, and we couldn't even get their bodies back!" she screamed, tears running down her eyes. "Don't be an idiot!"

"I'm not a fucking idiot!" he yelled back, and they both backed away, looking shocked. "Feel free to advise me, but I won't sit here and be insulted."

James adopted a sympathetic expression and spoke softly. "Freddy… don't take this as an offense, but you have no life."

He scowled at that one. "Pfft! Okay, wow! No offense taken, dude, geez."

"I don't mean that in a bad way," the man said. "Your childhood was taken from you, and… I don't think you have the right perspective on life, yet you're… you're rushing to throw it away."

He rolled his eyes at that. "And what perspective do you have, huh?"

"Freddy, I…"

"You're both over twice my age," he pointed out, "yet you're renting a place in a shitty complex, in a run-down district, close to nothing to your name, and without any sign anything will change! Ever!" he accused, then continued sarcastically, "No offense, James, but you're a loser! But hey, don't get offended, there, now!"

Sharon spoke up. "Freddy, don't be like—"

"Don't be like what?" he asked and then took another sip of the wine. "I know you both believe you're trying to help me, and obviously, I can't see things from your perspective. But you can't see things from mine either." His voice grew shakier. "I don't want to keep being a goddamn slave! A life of killing myself for someone else's interest isn't for me! And, okay, yeah, I get it. I might die. But if I don't fight for the life I want, I… I… Then what am I even living for?"

And with that, he got up and headed to the door. Their conversation had gotten rather heated, and they hadn't been watching their tone. He wanted to hurry back and use the prime.

James yelled, "Freddy, wait!"

He paused at the door, and the middle-aged man continued, "Please think this through… You still have time…"

Letting go of the knob, he turned around. "I… I said some things I didn't really mean. I'm a bit drunk, and I've never had alcohol before…" He chuckled lethargically.

"Freddy…"

"You're right, James," he said. "You're right. I really don't have a life. I should have been out somewhere, drinking for the first time with friends and maybe even a lover… I'm sure I could have that by having a better job. But I also want to have meaning.

"I don't want to wake up every day to do the same thing. You can't change your talent, James. Once you take one, you're stuck. Being trapped doing something you hate without a way to set yourself free… That… I'll fucking kill myself if I have to go through that again." He wanted that to sound like a joke. It didn't.

Reluctantly, the two slowly nodded, and Sharon said, "Good luck, then."

James added, "Good… Good luck, Fred."

"Thank you." And with that, he hurriedly left the apartment.

***

His window was open to air out the stink, and it let in the glow of the city below, faintly illuminating his uncovered figure as he lay on the bed.

Freddy held the red orb and stared into its closed eyes. "Tell me, vestige…"

Am I making the right choice?

Said or unsaid, there was no answer to be had from the stoic ball. There was no answer to be had from anyone.

He felt bitter, regretful, and just… sad.

And to think I went there to apologize… he thought, wanting to chuckle at the irony, but all that left his lungs was a slight exhale.

The idea to return and say sorry again floated in his mind, but he ignored it. He had already told them what needed to be said.

So, rather unceremoniously, he started the process of becoming an archhuman.

He quickly realized he had no damn clue how to do it. So he tried the first thing that came to mind. "I wish to accept your power into my soul," he said.

Nothing happened.

For a few moments, the red face remained still.

Until.

"As you wish."

It opened its yellow, glowing eyes that held infinite aggression within—a filthy desire weighing the price of life—muted by the calm surface of a lake. The prime vestige glowed and began turning into a faint, red mist that seeped into every pore on his body, settling somewhere deep within.

Once the last wisp of energy was gone, he shivered and let out the breath he had been holding. "Well, that was creepy as hell."

Not much else would happen for the time being. So he got up, picked up the toothbrush, and went to the toilet. It was empty. He brushed his teeth in peace and returned. Then he changed into his pajamas, closed the window, and lay in bed.

It was cold without his sheets, so he curled up into a fetal position. The pillow was filthy, and its touch made his face itch. An intense headache set in, and he hugged his knees for a semblance of comfort. They provided none.

The miscellaneous aches all over his body echoed with the shivers—

As he cried himself to sleep.