Why activate the "refreshing" function before engaging in combat?
Through extensive experimentation, Jerry had discovered that this "refreshing" function temporarily stimulated his brain's latent potential, inducing a state of heightened neural activity.
While originally designed to accelerate magical learning, this enhanced cognitive state proved equally valuable in combat situations.
It dramatically improved his comprehension, memory retention, and analytical capabilities when applied to academic pursuits. But when deployed in battle, it enabled his hyper-stimulated brain to break through the body's natural limitations, what Jerry termed his "superhuman form."
In his previous life, Jerry had watched a film called "Limitless," where the protagonist developed extraordinary mental and physical capabilities after taking an experimental drug that maximized neural efficiency.
Jerry's superhuman state wasn't quite so dramatic, but it still allowed his brain to unlock nearly 100% of his body's potential, far beyond normal human utilisation.
Most people, even without specialised training, rarely coordinate their muscles efficiently enough to maximise physical output. Trained martial artists, however, develop precise muscular control through years of practice, enabling them to generate significantly more power from the same physical frame.
Jerry's superhuman state instantly transformed him from an untrained enthusiast into a master-level martial artist. His body remained unchanged, but his strength, speed, and reflexes functioned at peak efficiency.
Combined with his heightened sensory perception, another benefit of his enhanced neural state, his combat effectiveness increased several-fold.
However, this power came with considerable drawbacks. The duration directly correlated with the severity of the aftereffects.
Primarily, once the "refreshing" function was deactivated, his brain entered a profoundly dulled state due to neurological exhaustion. An overwhelming desire for sleep would follow, similar to what happened after he'd studied continuously for four hours during his previous experiment.
Moreover, pushing his body beyond normal limitations resulted in severe muscular soreness afterwards, requiring extended recovery periods. Excessive use would likely cause widespread muscular strain or worse.
Therefore, when entering this superhuman state, Jerry needed to either resolve the situation quickly or ensure he would be in a completely secure environment when the effects subsided.
Otherwise, the consequences could prove fatal.
"Fumos!"
Jerry raised his wand toward the four criminals, counting their money, releasing a burst of magical energy. Instantly, dense smoke engulfed the warehouse's central area.
"Smoke bombs? No—the police must have found us!"
Smith's immediate assumption upon seeing the billowing smoke was that law enforcement had tracked them down.
He frantically ordered his men to grab their rifles, simultaneously firing toward doors and windows while retreating deeper into the warehouse.
Meanwhile, Jerry propelled himself toward the smoke-obscured robbers with cheetah-like speed.
In his superhuman state, Jerry moved with the velocity of a world-class sprinter. He covered nearly twenty meters within three seconds, reaching the first gangster concealed by the smokescreen.
This particular criminal was the same brute who had attempted to kick him after exiting the school bus.
"They say a gentleman's revenge may take ten years, but a villain strikes at the first opportunity."
Jerry clearly wasn't practising gentlemanly patience.
Leaping upward, he slashed the dagger across the thug's throat.
Blood erupted from the wound as the man instinctively clutched his neck. He attempted to call out but found his once-powerful body rapidly weakening from catastrophic blood loss.
Sensing the disturbance, the three remaining robbers pivoted simultaneously, weapons raised.
"Mollesco!"
Jerry aimed his wand at the farthest robber, casting a Softening Charm on the man's rifle. While a Transfiguration Spell would have been more effective, Jerry's current magical proficiency limited complex transformations to smaller objects like daggers, a complete rifle exceeded his capabilities.
The Softening Charm compromised only the rifle's barrel, rendering it inoperable but demanding less magical energy.
Without hesitation, Jerry hurled his dagger toward the nearest criminal with his free hand. His superhuman state enhanced both speed and accuracy, making his throw comparable to the legendary weapon masters from martial arts films.
A strangled cry followed as the blade embedded itself precisely in the robber's eye socket, penetrating directly into his brain.
Jerry's heightened senses suddenly screamed warning, Smith had raised his rifle, barrel aimed directly at Jerry's head.
Muscles responding with preternatural speed, Jerry dropped and slid backward. Exploiting his smaller stature, he narrowly evaded Smith's first shot and retreated behind the body of the first thug, who remained momentarily upright despite his fatal wound.
"Depulso!" Jerry pointed his wand at the dying man's back.
Years of playing "Angry Birds" in his previous life, combined with his super-charged neural calculations, allowed Jerry to channel every scrap of remaining magical energy into a perfect Banishing Charm.
A jet of magical light struck the first thug's back. With blood still streaming from his severed throat, the 200-pound man transformed into a human projectile, hurtling directly into Smith.
Smith experienced firsthand what it felt like to be struck by a human cannonball. The impact drove him violently to the ground, where his head struck the concrete with sufficient force to render him unconscious with a severe concussion.
Pocketing his wand, Jerry charged toward the final robber without hesitation. The Banishing Charm had depleted his magical reserves almost entirely, this last confrontation would require physical engagement.
The remaining criminal stood frozen in bewilderment.
What the hell was happening?
First came the smoke, which he'd assumed signalled police arrival. Then his comrade's throat was slashed by a small, shadowy figure.
His rifle inexplicably softened like overcooked pasta as he'd raised his weapon to fire at the blur moving through the smoke. Impossible!
By the time his mind processed these events, another fellow criminal had been stabbed through the eye, their leader lay crumpled on the floor, and the diminutive attacker was charging directly toward him.
As the figure emerged from the smoke screen, recognition struck with paralysing force, it was the brown-haired schoolboy they'd taken hostage from the bus.