(Cal POV)
If I were to compare my current physical situation to anything, it would be like Mason walking through the hallways of the Pentagon after getting out of the interrogation chair. I would assume it's only due to my eternal existence perk, but due to the fact that I haven't undergone any truth or physical enhancements, the pure delusion of information is still getting to me.
Walking into the public library, I grab a nearby pen and a piece of paper along with some tissues as my nose starts bleeding again.
The few people inside the library don't give me any strange looks, as I myself don't look too dissimilar from them.
What I knew was that I needed to make something, so taking a few pieces of paper I grabbed, I begin drawing. I have no experience in terms of professional drawing—the best I could do were basic self-portraits before any of this—yet as I continue to draw, I find myself envisioning various scenarios.
However, one came to mind: a camping trip during the fall when all the hills filled with trees created a symphony of color. The trees had yet to die, but their leaves created a vivid scene of reds, yellows, and oranges.
I remember doing some rock climbing there. I remember reaching for my mother's hand when I couldn't make it to the top of the ledge, but I couldn't remember my own face. The various shading shows light shining on the top of the ledge as my younger self tries to reach for the top toward a given hand.
And what was originally just scribbles turned into professional shading, and what began as basic contours of unknown faces became the very definition of lifelike in a matter of minutes.
And soon, the couple of minutes turned to half an hour, and after looking at the picture, I just stare, contemplating everything I lost—but only for a few moments. I couldn't spend this life ruminating over what I could've done differently.
Looking over the picture, I could almost feel something from it, which is a bit odd to say the least, but maybe this is how people who look at art feel about viewing paintings all over the world.
Looking over to the clock on the nearby wall, I realize that I've been drawing this for half an hour, and after going through a quarter of a box of tissues, my head doesn't feel like it's about to excavate my brain from my skull.
Going over all of the information, I just wonder how those who exist in creation can remain sane. The pure skill and artistry that I saw from those paintings would drive any lesser men insane.
Standing up, I toss the bloody tissues in the trash, and after getting a thankful nod from the librarian in the room for picking up after myself, she looks over at the drawing that I hold under my arm, and she seems almost entranced by it for a few moments.
Ignoring that, I begin to walk away, but her eyes remain firmly on the drawing.
[+100 CP Milestone]
[300 CP Remaining]
Walking back inside the feast center, I find May in the kitchen. Tapping her on the shoulder, she turns around and smiles upon seeing me.
"I'm surprised you're back so soon, Mr. Smith. I thought you'd be at the library for longer."
"A bit too quiet for my taste, and to be honest, I have a bit of a headache going on right now, so I came back here so I could lay down." The immediate concern on her face was nice to see.
"You making dinner for later?" The question is met with a nod as she focuses on chopping up some of the ingredients on the table.
"Want my help?" She then shakes her head at my question.
"I can handle it, Mr. Smith. You should go lay down if you aren't feeling well." Considering that, I find that the headache itself has mostly gone away.
"It's nothing too serious. Besides, you have a decent amount of mouths to feed. It makes me wonder where the other chefs are."
"Well, a decent amount of our chefs are volunteers—people with more time on their hands than sense—but we appreciate them nonetheless. The other chefs don't arrive until later, the ones that are paid at least. But with the amount of mouths we have to feed, it's best to start early. That, and I am needed at home in a few hours."
Looking over the recipe that she was using for a few seconds, I find some methods to make it more efficient.
It is a bit basic, as it's just spiced ham and some vegetables, but the seasoning is where everything matters, as well as how you cook it.
As my hands begin to fly across the ingredients, May looks at me as if I am a man possessed, which technically I could be because the skills technically come from someone else, but that is neither here nor there.
Originally, she looks like she wants to stop me, but after a few minutes of looking like she wants to say something, she sees how focused I am and smiles before going back to her own work.
Settling in, the next hour is filled with the silence of a cook at work, along with the sizzling of the meat.
(Two Hours Later)
"Mr. Smith, you did make sure to follow the recipe, right?" The question is met with a silent nod. However, the food is almost glowing with how good it is.
"I never thought I'd see food start glowing since Ben and I experimented with hallucinogens in the '80s." Looking at her in utter and complete surprise, she just smirks at me while I look almost flabbergasted.
"What? We were a young couple and wanted to experiment with things. Besides, we never actually took any other drugs again since it mostly just ended up with both of us having to take a day off work in bed, sick to our stomachs. Either way, it looks amazing. Do you mind if I try some?"
I wave over toward a plate of food in front of her, and as she goes to grab a piece of the ham, she takes a slow and calculating bite, and her world just seems to cease to exist as her eyes widen ever so slightly.
Before I could say anything, she immediately proceeds to eat everything on the plate in a matter of 15 minutes. To be honest, I was slightly scared to talk to her for a moment, and as she realizes that the plate itself is empty, she seems almost embarrassed.
She then stands up and walks toward me, to which I then proceed to slightly walk backward, seeing the look in her eyes.
As she places her hands on my arms, she then looks at me dead in the eyes and asks, "Mr. Smith, I am not one to be so forceful, but what did you change in the recipe?"
"Well, I mostly just changed the temperature at which to cook the ham as well as a different variation of the percentage of each individual spice, but overall, I stuck to the recipe."
She looks genuinely surprised before she takes a small piece of paper and writes down everything I changed.
After placing the piece of paper in her pocket, she smiles at me before grabbing her bag, preparing to leave for the evening. "Thank you for the meal, Mr. Smith. By the way, what do you plan on doing?"
Placing my hands on the nearby table, I give it a thought. Even with my perks, I technically don't have any means to fight, and since I don't have any money, I can't exactly go around looking for free lessons on anything. And while I do have that personal warehouse, it's literally empty, so what I need now is cash.
"I'm thinking of selling street art. I was a decent artist growing up, and I think I could make some quick cash there—enough to get me set up with an apartment or even share it with someone else. Other than that, my options are quite limited."
May then looks to be contemplating for a moment but then nods to herself.
"Well, I do have an extra table you can use if you want, but do be careful not to sell in secluded places. Street sellers usually have to worry about getting mugged. Make sure you're always in view in a public place…"
[+100 CP Achievement: Create Your First Work of Art]
[400 CP Remaining]
Hours upon hours passed by, and as the sun set on the horizon, I continued to draw. Very rarely wasting a piece of paper, I made a variety of drawings other than self-portraits. A decent amount of them are landscapes, some are religious iconography, and a decent amount of them are just entirely random events.
Thankfully, you didn't need a vendor's license to sell personal street art—at least in New York City, you didn't. If I had planned on selling anything else, I would've had to get a vendor's license, which would take too much time, and I didn't know if I would've had to pay for such a license.
After running out of paper, I placed all of the art into a small folder that May allowed me to borrow. After putting them underneath the couch I'm sleeping on, I give myself a few hours of rest.
But before doing so, I decide to partake in the forge today. Summoning the forge to my side, I grasp the hammer in my hand. It's like creating a cascading barrage of colors around me. It was almost wondrous to see it, even those that existed during the First Age amongst the Primordials would have acknowledged the beauty of such simple implements.
Grasping the hammer in my hand, I felt energy coalesce onto the anvil, and as I struck it, I felt an aura begin to take place around me. It felt safe and warm, almost comforting in a way.
-200 CP - Prototype Process/Ben 10:
Science is a learning process, and sometimes that learning process involves explosions, malfunctions, or idiots messing with things they shouldn't. Well, they used to, anyways. When technology you've built or used would normally suffer a malfunction or an experiment would become a disaster, it will instead create a harmless inconvenience instead of blowing up in your face. A device's sensitive power core being struck would see it shut down immediately, a DNA serum you inject into yourself gives you mild indigestion instead of mutating you into a horrible monster, and so on. If a result would be entirely negative for you, the impact is dulled to a comical accident instead of something that could endanger your life and those of others. How lucky for you.
[200 CP Remaining]
Another weight off my shoulders, especially given the fact that in comic book universes, scientific experiments are the leading cause of mutation and various world-ending accidents/incidents.
At least I won't have to worry about killing myself if I were to ever actually explore various sciences.
-100 CP - A Hero's Body/Generic Lewd Isekai:
A hero's body should not be an average one; it should be one that lives up to that title. Your body is a special one. First, your body is immune to any kind of negative basic status effect, be it poison, aphrodisiacs, etc., as long as they are status effects that affect your body and are not very potent, like powerful poisons or the like. Curses and similar natures that affect both the body and spirit are not included, neither are illusions and the like.
Second, your body has infinite vitality (in terms of your sexual performance), so you will never run out, in addition to being able to control your own fertility. No matter if you had an orgy with twenty women all night, your body will hold up, and you will only need a short nap to keep going. This includes the amount of fluids you can generate, so you will never run out, and there will be no negative effects from producing such a large amount. Not to mention that any of your fluids are delicious, particularly to succubi and vampires.
Third, your body will always be in its best condition, so no matter how many years pass or how long you were without training, your physical condition will be at its best, and your skills will never rust.
[100 CP Remaining]
Well, at least I won't have to worry about getting tired during certain activities. And suddenly, I immediately turned my fertility to zero, as the possibility of my children existing is a rather terrifying prospect in this universe. But the biggest boon is the fact that my body feels different. I no longer feel tired physically. I assume mental tiredness will still be a problem, but having an immortal and peak physical condition are definitely handy perks.
Thinking that nothing else will come out from one more try, I take the fading energy of the hammer and slam it downwards one more time.
But this one was different. This was also an aura of something, and for a moment, I could almost hear what sounded like very pompous laughter and some type of "UMU!" noise. And as the very bright yellow glowing aura begins to fade, I find myself subtly changed again.
-100 CP - Her Majesty's Majesty/Fate Legends - Empires Of Antiquity:
They say that every hero of these times was a marvel to look upon. The statues that remain from these years in modern times would seem to give that impression, and should you eventually have one made of you, it won't fall short. Whether it's being beautiful or handsome, you stand out like a shining jewel even among heroes. Many can't help but gasp once they see your visage, and it'll smooth out plenty of problems for you, not the least is finding a suitable partner. Your beauty will also affect the things that you make and rule over, even something as large as Rome itself, but this effect slowly takes hold over time. While a sword you wield may slowly become more ornate and fine over days of use, an empire might need years to be fully affected, but it and all its people will be shining by the end. You can have this stop at a certain level if you like, whether that's to keep some parts of your empire ugly or just to stop everyone from maybe becoming self-obsessed snobs that never stop looking in mirrors.
[0 CP Remaining]
As the energy begins to pervade my body, I feel my skin becoming clear, my hair becoming a lot less of a murky brown but gaining a beautiful sheen, and as the aura begins to fade, the forge disappears. As I take the hammer and place it back into the forge, I lay down on the couch while pulling the hood I have on over my head.
A small part of me wonders if the creator of the forge is doing this on purpose, but my vanity is definitely being stroked right now. And besides, I can use this handsomeness to my advantage, especially when it comes to getting new customers tomorrow.
For a few moments, I stare out the nearby window, watching the lights pass by as cars move down the streets, and almost like a lullaby, the sound of vehicles lulls me to sleep.
(I realize that this story may be going a bit slow, but due to the perks that he's rolling, it's kind of hard to get a decent start when he literally has nothing to his name other than his identity. I'm basically making this up as I go along, so I apologize if the work is lackluster, and I swear my celestial protagonists seemingly have a problem of rolling appearance booster perks.)