Duality Merged - Chapter 9 Power Leveling

“You should have a knife, correct?” Charles asked but didn’t wait for an answer as he swiftly searched the cursing Max. “There we are,” he exclaimed while pulling the knife out of Max’s pocket, “This’ll come in handy.” Having found the knife, Charles flipped Max on his back, causing Max to cuss in pain as his shoulders impacted the ground. “Now then, let’s do something about your two remaining limbs, shall we?” he continued with a cruel smile as he made to grab his quarterstaff. Max, in his panic, kicked out towards the now distracted Charles, only to freeze up mid kick as his movements jostled his whole body, making his shoulders explode in pain.

The man didn’t have much time to gather himself, however, before he found himself on the receiving end of a large wooden stick being swung towards his head. “Lie still for a moment,” he heard Charles mutter in his disorientated state, sobering up at the immense agony he felt as Charles drove his staff downwards in a brutal jabbing motion, making the blunt end of his staff impact Max’s left kneecap. The strike, however, painful as it was, didn’t succeed in breaking any bone, something that made Charles feel an unhealthy amount of dissatisfaction; he had, to some extent, been looking forward to hearing the sound of fractured bone. This dissatisfaction was short lived though, as he swiftly realised that the only way to sate his dissatisfaction would be to actually break the bone.

And so, he drove his spear down once more, somehow managing to almost hit the same spot despite Max’s struggles. While Max’s movement was undoubtedly making the process more difficult than it otherwise would have been, it was somewhat entertaining trying to hit the same spot again and again on a moving target; almost like a game of whack-a-mole, one of the few games he’d been allowed to play as he grew up, more so with the intention of testing his reflexes than amusing him. Max’s curses and threats had at some point turned into begging, something that only served to fuel Charles’ ever-growing excitement; the man really was a fool if he thought begging would save him. It wasn’t like he would die quite yet anyway, why couldn’t he just save this pathetic display of weakness for later?

The kneecap finally gave out after a handful of minutes with a loud crunch and a much louder wail, “That’s one down,” Charles said with a gratified smile on his face, as he looked into Max’s tear-glazed eyes, “One more to go,” he whispered as he walked around Max at a leisurely pace, towards Max’s final functional limb. “Please, stop, I’m sorry, please” Max begged for the umpteenth time. He really couldn’t understand why he’d have to go through such torment for doing what amounted to nothing. He hadn’t even managed to pull his own pants off, after all, much less actually **** the girl. And wasn’t she so eager at the idea of being useful? He was doing her favour, wasn’t he? “No,” Charles shook his head.

The man’s right kneecap received the same treatment as the left one, leaving Max sprawled out on the ground, handicapped and bawling his eyes out. Or was he actually handicapped? Charles seemed to remember reading something about humans actually being able to walk without kneecaps; that could be troublesome, seeing as they wouldn’t actually want Max to walk anywhere. An idea struck him then, one he promptly set in motion as a bestial smile spread across his face. Why didn’t he just treat Max’s knees in the same way he did his shoulders? It was simple in theory, really: step on Max’s knee with one foot, bend down and grab around his shin, then stand up in one quick motion, bringing the lower leg with you. It didn’t quite work out that way, however; sure, the knee bent backwards to an unnatural degree, but nothing inside the joint had snapped as it had in the man’s shoulder. So, after repositioning his foot slightly above the man’s crushed knee, he tried again, shivering in delight as he felt bone grind against bone, as ligaments tore and tendons snapped.

[Obtained: Torture Novice I]

While Max had been screaming after Charles’ first attempt at crippling his leg, he fell into silence as unconsciousness claimed him as Charles’ efforts won against his weakened joint, his mind shutting down at the agonising sensory overload. Silence fell the moment the notification popped into existence, slightly surprising Charles as it did, sending him into thought, as he suddenly realised that he had, indeed, tortured a fellow man. It hadn’t even grazed his thoughts before, as what he was doing was just making his sister happy in ways that wouldn’t be accepted in polite society. Did it matter, though? This was what Janette wanted, being the vindictive creature that she was, he thought, looking towards Janette. She’d gone pale at some point, though that didn’t really surprise him: she hadn’t exactly gone through the same ‘tests’ he did, leaving her unaccustomed to the sounds one’s body could make.

Molly’s condition did confuse him for a moment when he saw her blank look but unwavering gaze, making him smile wryly; it would seem he’d forgotten the most integral part of this play. “Molly,” he called out, grabbing the girls attention, “You do know why he’s going through this, right?” he asked gently, satisfied when he got a nod in response, “Why don’t you give him a few hits yourself? I think you’ve deserved that,” Charles stated as he offered the extra staff they’d brought. Molly didn’t grab the staff but, instead, simply stared at it, concern evident in her eyes. “No one will know,” Charles tempted, breaking Molly’s last thread of rationale. And he didn’t lie: the only ones who’d know what had happened here would be the three of them, something that would only further serve to bind Molly to them, which should satisfy his sister greatly and, by proxy, himself.

She’d struck Max before she realised it. It felt good, she noticed, as a feeling of righteous indignation welled up inside her. She’d offered to better herself, to become useful, to do SOMETHING. Despite that, how had she ended up? Abused, she thought, swinging her staff. Betrayed, she raged, as she swung again. Almost defiled, she laughed, realising how driving the staff into the man’s only semi-healthy knee seemed almost poetic: driving a long stick into flesh and what not. And she cried hearing his screams.

This was so very much unlike her, a voice at the back of her head screamed. She hadn’t minded Charles’ previous display of brutality, jaded as she was due to her mind blocking out emotion in self-preservation. Now that she’d let loose, however, she felt like she’d drown in the veritable tidal flood of emotions, only grounded by the embrace she was once more held in. Janette had hugged the collapsed and crying Molly, hoping to calm the poor girl’s mind, something that seemed to work, as Molly’s cries slowly abated into a low sobbing, which soon after changed into a light snoring as she fell asleep, completely spent by the events of the day.

Janette was brought out of her thoughts by Max as he awakened once more with a scream; he’d been fainting every now and again just to be brought back awake by a new bout of pain. “Must you continue this uncivilized display, Brother?” she couldn’t help but let her brows furrow slightly, none too pleased at the grating screams her brother drove out of Max. “You don’t understand, Sister,” Charles said with a smile and a shake of his head, ” This is an art, I tell you. I got a Talent for it, you see? It’s even gotten to Novice III after I broke his other knee.” That was a compelling argument. Well, it was either that or just the fact that it was who told it that made it seem solid, she thought hopelessly. It was a reason she could easily accept, though she wouldn’t really mind what Charles did. He hadn’t seemed so excited about something in a long time. Not even herself, she realised with a wry smile.

It wasn’t until half of the afternoon had gone by that Charles finally stopped with the ‘power-levelling’ of his new Talent; he’d gotten the talent to Novice VI after systematically beating Max’s limbs from tip to base, only moving on from his current spot to the next after he felt the bone break. He hadn’t touched the man’s torso in order to make sure Max didn’t go into shock, a condition that’s been widely misunderstood. Shock doesn’t come about due to pain or fear, not the medical condition anyway, but rather due to a lack of blood flow to one’s vital organs, most of which are located in the torso or the head. His beating had no doubt caused a fair amount of internal bleeding but Charles was largely unconcerned. The blood didn’t leave his body, so it shouldn’t really matter, right?

Max had been thoroughly immobilised after the event, even more so than Charles had originally planned: he’d actually only wanted to break the man’s arms and legs and be done with it, though him obtaining the [Torture Talent] had changed that plan slightly. So, with that done, Charles grabbed Max’s wrists as he started dragging the man towards their cave; he still had his uses, even if he was dead or dying. Max would wake up on occasion as he was dragged across the uneven forest ground, having his meticulously broken body jostled as he was dragged over roots and bumps. He had lost his ability to form any coherent sentences soon after his first leg had been ‘tenderised’ under Charles’ talented hands, leaving him in what could best be likened to an unending hellish pain; any movement would make the bone fragments jab and prod into his flesh, sending constant stabs of pain coursing through his nervous system.

Molly, in the meanwhile, was sleeping peacefully in Janette’s arms as the latter carried her towards the cave. Janette couldn’t help the giddy feeling in her stomach as a radiant smile refused to leave her lips. The moment she’d seen Molly, cute and weak as she was, she felt a possessive want for the girl. And it wouldn’t have been difficult for her to bind the girl to her in some way or another, evident by the fact that Molly seemed to have developed a crush on her, something that amused Janette to no end. Her only worry was Charles: he had always refused her when she asked for a cat or a puppy, not that she didn’t understand why. Neither of them had a job and their only stable income was the money they received from the government due to their ‘misfortune’ of being orphans, as well as what they got in state educational grant: a meagre amount of money that only allowed them to live in a one bedroom apartment. At least he’d come around to the idea, though she had expected as much, mostly due to his usual argument of pets being only good for a comfort he didn’t seek being invalid in this case: at least he should be able to get some use out of Molly.

Charles dumped Max a couple of meters away from the cave entrance, after which he proceeded to make several shallow gashes all over Max’s body. The point wasn’t for him to bleed to death but to simply smell of blood. They would be at a disadvantage during tonight’s expected fight with Max down, leaving only himself and Janette. Janette should be able to handle herself quite well, her Spear Talent being at Novice II combined with how her brain worked should allow her to come out of it largely unharmed. It was himself he was worried for, especially since he was as riled up as he was: he was afraid he’d do something stupid and get himself hurt beyond what his body’s natural regeneration could handle. He hoped Max would serve as a decent distraction to some of the bipedal vermin.

Janette laid Molly down on the floor of the cave before she sat down next to Charles and leant against him, “Thank you,” she said softly, although she couldn’t help but feel slightly queasy. “Don’t worry about it, Sis. You’ve been quite good to me for a long time and I haven’t always rewarded you as I should’ve for what you’ve done. Just treat this as me trying to make up for that, ok?” Charles said. He’d noticed the odd mood she was in, though his words didn’t comfort her as much as he would’ve liked. She had always been taught that good behaviour would be rewarded, and she’d only receive rewards if she had done something to justify it: something she couldn’t help but feel like she hadn’t. Charles had allowed her to accept the Quest, he’d treated Max as he had just because Max had wanted to slap her, and, perhaps the biggest reward of them all, he’d given her Molly. What had she done to get those rewards? Not enough, she told herself. Sure, she’d kept him safe during the night and bandaged his wound, but that was something she would’ve done anyways, and yet he still owed her a favour.

Charles was restless, the sudden realisation brought her out of her thoughts. Was that something she could help with? But how, she wondered, looking him over for any ideas. She had noticed his emotions had fluctuated greatly during the day’s previous events, something that didn’t usually happen. Hell, he’d even gotten erect, something that was even rarer. “You’re restless,” she stated, a plan beginning to form in mind. “Indeed. I seem to have ‘slipped’ slightly,” Charles sighed with a shake of his head; it had been a long time since he last felt like this. Like a caged beast, he thought, closing his eyes with a wry smile. His eyes flew open in surprise as he spun his head towards Janette with a questioning look, a look she answered with a bite of her lips. “How about I help you calm down a bit?”