Chapter 9

  Weapon of Impact

  The moment the swordsgoblin's body went limp, the intense rush that had flooded Ken’s arm was spent.

  The familiar pull as a potent chi emanated from the armored corpse.

  ?Similar to Fancy Hat earlier..

  Glad I didn't let him do anything.

  New chi flooded in — warm, restorative, but leaving him raw and jittery once again

  It eased his strained muscles and dulled the bone ache in his arm.

  The bleeding from his ribs slowed.

  Mentally taxed from the razor edge of that fight, he plopped onto his ass.

  If it went all out immediately, it would have killed me.

  A fucking goblin is that much better than me.

  Just half my size.

  The ball of his compressed chi felt significantly depleted, far smaller and less potent than before the strike.

  The cost of that enhanced strike had been high, and the new chi was now loose and uncompressed, demanding to be contained.

  ?"Well, that sucks," he muttered, forcing himself back to his feet.

  He probed the weeping cut to his ribs with a wince.

  “Got to get this taken care of.”

  ?

  The goblin’s skull was caved in.

  ‘Stuff’ was leaking out.

  Gross

  He wiped off his hand best he could

  The same visible distortion he’d seen around the Swordsgoblin's sword and legs had enveloped his arm during the strike.

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  That, combined with his Fortified Structure, must have saved his hand.

  ?

  Standing over the newest corpse, a few crucial truths clicked into place.

  ?He had found his weapon, his fists.

  Backed by his raw strength, protected by his unique body structure, and empowered with this chi, he no longer had to worry about finding a weapon.

  Or learning how to use a weapon.

  The surge of energy he pulled from his core was an ability he could trigger.

  He knew the cost, too, and now had a desperate desire for more chi.

  I’m on a path.

  The ability to move quickly and hit hard was a good combination.

  It had to be the basis of his survival.

  I must become a monk-like engine of impact and speed.

  “Noice!”

  ?

  Ken wiped his forehead with his sleeve and took a steadying breath.

  His exhausted eyes scanned the goblin’s belongings: the crude leather armor wouldn't fit a man of his size, and even the short sword, while decent enough, looked a little battered.

  ?

  Bending down, he reached for the bloodied blade lying next to the corpse.

  Fingers brushed the rough wooden hilt.

  The logic was simple:

  Swords are cool.

  Then he paused.

  The patrolling goblins he’d seen weren't just random beasts, they were scouting and tracking.

  If I leave the weapon, they might think it was some sort of animal

  If the sword is gone, it will immediately tell them they are hunting a sentient.

  ?His hand recoiled as if burned.

  I don’t need a sword.

  I’ve got my little nugget and my fists.

  "Alright, I've got a slightly used fist and a hole in my energy tank. Time to go."

  He did take a moment to rip some cloth from its clothing to wrap around his ribs.

  Uncompressed energy swirled around the gash in his side like angry hornets, stitching the edges of the skin with a heat that made him hiss.

  It was messy, inefficient healing, but it was working.

  He watched the skin knit together with a detached, cold curiosity.

  Realization struck him over the head harder than a goblin club.

  I don’t just need the chi to survive.

  I crave that feeling.

  Jittery rawness is a small price to pay for being a loaded spring.

  I’m not just a survivor anymore.

  I’m a predator looking for his next meal.

  “Me wants more chi… and Hardcore is terrifying.”