The Gambler's Groin Gamble and the One-Punch Hug
I read the descriptions again. And again.
My eyes weren't deceiving me, were they?
A flood of thoughts crashed into my mind, theories stacking upon one another like an unstable tower of nonsense. But after all that thinking, only one coherent sentence escaped my lips:
"Ouch. These sound painful."
Just picturing them in action sent a shiver down my spine. Take One-Punch Hug, for example.
"Hey, I know how to save him!" I'd say, looking at some half-dead guy.
"Oh? What's the method?"
"Let me punch him."
My lips twitched. Yeah, that one was already a hard sell. But then there was the other skill—Gambler's Groin Gamble. That one was straight-up evil.
Dark thoughts flickered through my mind as my gaze involuntarily drifted downward.
No. No, no, no. No way.
I shook my head instinctively. There wasn't a soul alive who would willingly kick themselves there. But what made it worse what truly made it terrifying was the idea of convincing someone else.
"Hey, buddy, let me kick you real quick. Trust me, it'll make you ten times stronger... for a little while."
And then, of course, the system had to add an extra layer of sadistic genius: a 2% chance of activation. Meaning, for a guaranteed success, you'd need to get kicked fifty times.
Fifty. Times.
Just imagine the mental gymnastics required to persuade someone to go along with this. "C'mon, bro, it'll work, I swear!" And after the first failed attempt, "Well, uh… there are still 49 kicks left."
Absolutely diabolical.
And let's not even talk about the debuff possibility. If it backfired, instead of being ten times stronger, they'd become ten times weaker. No sane person would ever agree to this.
I exhaled sharply and glanced at my system panel.
Both skills cost 100 MP each.
"Heh." A smirk tugged at my lips. I had 1500 MP. My gaze shifted to my status window.
Ain't I learning all this a bit too fast?
For some reason, I was starting to get how this system worked. It was all clicking into place. And if the system was telling the truth, I could cast these absurd skills fifteen times.
Fifteen times.
This… this was beyond magic. In books, magic was always about conjuring fire, floating rocks, or building houses from thin air. Even flying, as fantastical as it was, paled in comparison to this insanity.
This? This was real magic.
I rubbed my chin. But how do I confirm it?
Only one way to find out: I had to test them.
My eyes drifted toward the two old warriors standing near the edge of the flying carpet, gazing up at the sky as if they had never seen it before. Silent. Still. Unaware.
Should I…?
Dark thoughts whispered in my head. The temptation was real. But then I remembered just how strong these old men were.
Nope. Not now.
They'd throw me off this carpet without hesitation if they even suspected what was going through my head.
Better to test these skills later.
Sure, these abilities were powerful. One-Punch Hug could supposedly heal someone who was on the verge of death, and Gambler's Groin Gamble had its own twisted potential. But neither of them were attack skills. No offense, no defense not even a flashy visual effect to make them look impressive.
Where was the advantage in that?
If I really had a choice, I'd have gone for fireball. Mother always said fire magic was the strongest in the world. And let's be honest fire magic looked cool. These skills? They weren't bad, but they weren't what I wanted. No matter how absurdly overpowered they might be, they didn't scratch that itch for raw, destructive power.
After all, I was still just a boy. And a boy dreamed of grand, flashy magic not questionable techniques that required psychological warfare to be effective.
The excitement fizzled out as quickly as it had come.
I really don't see these skills ever coming in handy.
Who would even let me test them? I had no friends. If I ever made some in the future and asked to experiment on them, I'd be doomed. And as for enemies… well, trying to use these on them was basically saying, "Hey, Mr. Orc, come and fuck me over."
Still… there was something else. A loophole.
If I couldn't use the skills directly, I could still mess with people's minds. The system had already proven it rewarded me for triggering intense emotions. If I could push people to the point where they exploded reward chests, I could farm MP and, more importantly, unlock new and hopefully useful skills or items.
Now the real question: what emotions made people generate these chests? High emotions?
Like not only would Max gain MP, but there was also a high chance he'd receive system reward chests potentially unlocking new and useful skills or items.
The real question was: What exactly triggered these reward chests? Was it just about pushing someone's emotions to an extreme, to the point where their reaction alone could generate rewards?
Max still couldn't figure out what kind of emotions those two old Coins had felt that led to him receiving two reward chests one platinum and one gold. The strangest part? He hadn't even spoken a word to them. They had merely laid eyes on him, and suddenly, the system had showered him with rewards.
Was their reaction really that intense? But why?
Whatever the reason, one thing was clear out of the two, the green-haired man had the strongest emotional response.
Max exhaled sharply, shaking his head. Whatever. I'll deal with this later. Too much to think about right now. Just as he was about to return his focus to his status screen, Magnus' voice pulled him back to reality.
"We're here, kid."
Max blinked. "Come where?"
His mind had been so absorbed in the system that he hadn't even noticed their surroundings. He turned toward the old man, only to find Magnus watching him with that same mysterious smile.
Julius, standing beside him, had his arms crossed, his smirk still lingering as if he already knew what was coming. Neither of them said anything. Instead, they both turned their heads in the same direction.
A frown crept onto Max's face. Confused, he followed their gaze.
At first, he saw nothing but empty space. But as he took a step forward his foot reaching the edge of the vast, ornate carpet beneath him his breath hitched.
The world seemed to stretch before him, unraveling a sight so grand it stole the very words from his throat.
His mouth parted slightly. "This is…"
Nothing came out after that. No words could possibly describe what lay before him.
Magnus chuckled, arms folded behind his back as he admired the view. "Magnificent, isn't it? Of course, it is. It's not called a school created by Archwizards for nothing." His voice carried both pride and awe.
But Max barely registered what the old man was saying. It didn't matter. No explanation could do this place justice.
Because standing before him was a castle.
Not just any castle.
A colossal, incomprehensible structure that towered into the sky like a monument to the heavens themselves. Five sharp peaks pierced the clouds, dark and foreboding, yet impossibly elegant. The architecture was unlike anything he had ever seen so intricate, so precise, as if every stone carried the weight of history and power.
It was made entirely of black marble, its polished surface reflecting the dimming sunlight like a void swallowing all light. And even from here, Max could feel it.
Magic.
It thrummed in the air, seeped into the very stones, whispered through the wind like an ancient force that had been alive long before his time.
Magnus turned to him, his gaze holding an unmistakable sense of reverence. "Welcome to Saladors, young wizard." His lips curled into a knowing smile. "This is where you will rewrite your destiny… or perhaps, finally walk the path meant for you."
Julius, who had been silent, stepped forward and placed a firm hand on Max's shoulder. The weight of it was grounding, pulling Max out of his awestruck daze.
"This is the place where legends are written," Julius murmured.
Max swallowed hard, his gaze still locked on the towering fortress before him. The sheer presence of the castle was suffocating, but at the same time, something stirred in his chest an unfamiliar excitement, a pull toward the unknown.
A school for wizards. A place where the impossible became real.
Max couldn't stop himself from voicing his thoughts. "This place… it has to be a hundred times bigger than the village outside the woods."
At his words, both Magnus and Julius simply chuckled, shaking their heads in amusement.
Still unable to tear his gaze away from the sheer scale of the castle, Max asked the one question that had been burning in his mind. "Will I learn magic here?"
Magnus folded his arms, his expression unreadable. "That depends on you."
Max turned to him, brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"
The old man let out a small hum before answering. "You can learn as much as you want… but remember, studying at Saladors isn't just about acquiring knowledge." He turned his gaze toward the towering structure before them. "If you truly wish to learn from this place, you must look at Saladors the same way you look at your home."
Max hesitated. "My home?"