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[Further improvement]
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| Some days later… |
…
-Thud!-
Taka hit the ground hard, a small cloud of dust rising as his back slammed against the earth.
"Shit…" he muttered, staring helplessly at the blue sky above—then his gaze dropped to his most hated nemesis.
Seiji.
The monkey hero knelt beside him, tilting his head slightly. "Not that I don't enjoy these spars where I don't have to hold back, kid. I've been under a lot of stress lately… but what's got you so motivated all of a sudden? Not long ago you looked like you dreaded even hearing the word spar, and now you're begging me to go all out."
Taka rolled his eyes, breathing heavily.
There was a brief pause, determination settling in his gaze as he stared at the sky resolutely.
Then, he spoke.
"I need to become stronger."
This time, it was Seiji who rolled his eyes. "Tsk. Got anything more cliché than that?"
"No."
"Well, whatever." Seiji stood up, brushing the dust off his clothes. "Still, if you're being serious, I can tell you it's gonna take a while. You've improved a lot—your control over your balance, movement, breathing… even your voice, strangely, has become weirdly refined and measured—but you're still lacking up here." He tapped his temple.
Taka lifted an eyebrow. "I need a thicker skull?"
"Look at you, still cracking jokes, huh?" Seiji's mouth twitched. "I meant that while you've got the moves ingrained, you still lack foresight, just like when we started all of this training stuff. You don't predict or anticipate, you just throw things out and hope they work. If you could fight like that one time you copied my signature move and caught me off guard, then you'd improve a lot in one go."
"You don't let me land that hit anymore, though."
"Well, I don't like getting hit in the balls."
"… Fair enough."
"Listen, Taka—fights are like a dance."
"Huh?"
"It's a constant back-and-forth of learned moves. Depending on what your opponent does, you pick from your arsenal the move that counters it. Of course, your opponent does the same, so you have to anticipate his anticipation… but he probably anticipates your anticipation, so you have to anticipate even that. Though, it's likely he also antici—"
A small pebble hit Seiji's clothes, making him stop and glare at Taka with a deadpan.
"I get it, jeez."
"You get the meaning, but you haven't ingrained it yet." Seiji leaned in and flicked Taka's forehead lightly.
"Ack!"
Taka groaned and rubbed the spot where he had just received domestic abuse.
Meanwhile, Seiji stared at him amusedly.
After a bit of letting him catch his breath, however, he helped him get up. The earth wasn't a good place to lie down, after all—at least not for the poor clothes.
With Taka back on his feet, Seiji went back into the house, leaving Taka sitting on the wooden porch to his own devices. Whether to continue resting, muse on his shortcomings, or imagine weird things, it was up to Taka.
"Fights are like a dance, huh?" he muttered, rubbing the sore spots where he'd been hit.
He opened his mission panel.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
[You have finally taken notice of the mesmerizing art of dance. But you have yet to realize its true potential! Let the Aura Farmer within you bloom further as you open your mind to the wonders of corporeal expression.]
Quest Conditions:
▸ Learn a dance style to a skillful degree.
▸ Reach a new level in martial skill by enduring a fight with a serious Seiji for one full minute—without enhancing yourself or using aura projection.
Reward: +500 Aura | Gain the skill [Let's Dance!]
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Maybe that was the trick.
Through dancing, he could learn that rhythm, that flow of back-and-forth Seiji talked about.
Or something like that.
Maybe.
…
On second thought, wouldn't he need a dance partner for that?
The mission only said to learn dancing styles, not practice with a partner.
But dancing often required a partner, so maybe it was implied.
'Not the style I picked, though?' Taka raised an eyebrow.
Had the system overlooked the style, or did it really not matter that a partner wasn't exactly required?
…
Nevermind—he still couldn't figure out what the mission even wanted from him.
'Still, talking about dancing, I should go check on them.'
As he had that thought, he stood up.
Moments later, and under Seiji's watchful and almost suspicious eyes, he left the house and began jogging down the road.
'Might as well make progress on the daily quest while I'm at it.'
With that thought, he made his way through the city.
His Trouble Radar skill went off a few times—there ain't no rest for the wicked, after all—but none of them were apocalypse-level alerts, just the usual hero vs. average villain stuff.
So, he didn't bother to stop to farm aura.
As for why—
"Finally here…" he sighed, coming to a stop.
The reason was right in front of him.
A huge, abandoned building. Apparently, it used to be a school in the past, but now it was nothing more than a perfect setting for ghost stories.
Only… there was something else inside besides the ghosts.
After making sure no one was watching by looking around carefully, Taka floated up and slipped in through a broken window, landing inside a wrecked classroom.
Scattered chairs, a half-collapsed board, holes in the ceiling—true decadence, exactly what you'd expect from a long-forgotten school.
But this wasn't his destination.
Closing the class door behind him, he moved down the desolate hallways until he reached a room labeled "Music Club."
Shaaa—
Without hesitation, he slid the door open.
And what greeted him was a strange sight.
"Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in."
"Fresh meat!"
"Don't you know you have to bring offerings when showing up unannounced?!"
His clones—multiple of them—sat around the room like wannabe gangsters, each one striking a ridiculous pose, trying their best to look intimidating.
Taka sighed. "Stop it. I just came to check on you guys."
"We can see that."
"But why, though? Got bored being alone?"
"As expected of the loneliest Aura Farmer in history."
Taka sweatdropped. "Hey now, why the hell are you all being so sassy? You do realize that once you're done with your task, you'll come back to being me, right?"
"Well, you make us work our asses off while you stay home and chill, so I think we've earned the right to sass you."
"What do you mean by take it easy? I just got my face kicked in by Seiji."
"Right, right, I forgot about that… Did you at least land a hit this time?"
"No."
"That mission's gonna take a while, huh?"
"Well, I've got some thoughts about that. That's actually why I came to check on you bunch."
"'Hmm?'" The clones tilted their heads in unison.
Taka focused on one in particular. "You. How's the breakdance learning going?"
The clone sighed, massaging his neck and back.
"It's been a pain—literally. My whole body feels sore. The amount of movement this requires is insane. You should remake me and give me a bigger chunk of your aura. With what I've got, I can barely move right."
"I'm pretty sure you have enough aura to match my normal physical stats. Shouldn't that be enough?"
"Well, you're not exactly the most athletic person around, you know?" the clone deadpanned.
Taka deadpanned right back. "Again, I'm you, and you're me. Stop sassing me."
The clone rolled his eyes. "Consider it the healthy amount of self-deprecation you never give yourself. Besides, it's funny."
"Even though you'll come back and realize you were mocking yourself?"
"Yeah."
"Whatever." Taka sighed. "How long do you think it'll take before you master breakdancing?"
"Hmm… I dunno. A week or two, maybe? This stuff's hard."
"A week, huh?" Taka groaned. "Alright, continue as you were."
With that, he waved the clone off and turned toward the others.
They were sitting right beside a group of other instruments, including a drum set, a bass, and even a piano.
It was quite a collection, considering Taka was a teenager who, until not long ago, barely had enough to buy simple skin care products. But fortunately, his Quirktube Channel had amassed quite an audience, so he got enough money to afford the instruments.
Barely.
But being a teenager living under the care of someone else, he could afford to spend that much.
Thus, that's how and why he had begun using these instruments in the first place.
"How about you guys? How's the practice going?" Taka asked, raising an eyebrow as the clones remained in their delinquent-like pose.
The clones grinned proudly. "We've got everything in the bag! Just a bit more practice, and our aura reserves will skyrocket once we perform the show."
Taka nodded, smiling faintly. Then, he turned and glanced at the last clone in the room, who was sitting nearby but wasn't doing anything in particular.
"What about you? What do you think?"
"From what I'm hearing? It's pretty good." The clone gave him a thumbs-up.
When you're creating something, you tend to see every little detail—so much that you stop seeing it like others do. That's why Taka had made a clone uninvolved in the song's creation: to get the reaction of someone hearing it for the first time.
Of course, it wasn't as effective as he would have liked. Every day, his clones disappeared and their memories returned to him, meaning his new clones from the next day already had those memories baked in. So he couldn't just create a clone to react to the whole song from scratch, but had to settle for simply making him react to whatever progress the other team of clones made. It gave him a fresh perspective each day, even if not a fully detached and unaware one.
"So, what's your wisdom after today's progress?" Taka asked.
The clone rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm… I'd say it lacks a bit of intensity."
"Is that so?" Taka turned toward the clones practicing their instruments. "Well, you heard him—though I guess it'll be tomorrow's batch who has to worry about that…"
Scratching his hair in mild frustration, he sighed.
And with that, he turned around and walked toward the door.
"Well, you guys keep at it. I'll do my best to punch Seiji, but I'm not making any promises."
"Power!"
"Poweeer!"
"Poweer!"
His clones let out a strange war cry as he slid the door shut behind him.
"..." By the time he found himself alone in the hallway, Taka sweatdropped. "Am I really that weird inside?"
Maybe their technically short lives had made them bring out the true weirdo he feigned he wasn't.
Shaking his head with a sigh, he turned and made his way out—this time, leaving the school for good.
…
Once he was back on the street, he began running through a mental checklist of how things were going.
Like his clone had said, there was only a week or two before he eventually mastered Breakdancing.
Maybe "mastered" was too strong a word, though.
But by then, he felt confident he'd be able to do it with proficiency. Maybe not the best, but he'd at least know how to breakdance to a "skillful" degree as the mission asked.
Once that was done, all that'd be left would be to last one full minute in a spar against a serious Seiji to complete the mission.
He wasn't worried about that. While he may be getting beaten to the ground right now, he would eventually find the trick to tabling the turns.
For now, though, he would have to continue having his face shoved in.
'Almost like a Dark Souls boss.' Taka sneered, recalling otherworldly memories.
Then there was the matter of his song.
As much as he wanted to release it right now, and relish in the tons of aura it would bring—even more so if he planned properly the time, place, and circumstance under which he presented it—he had to grit his teeth and endure it for now.
This was his own project, not another plagiarism like the earlier ones. And because of that, he couldn't help but be a perfectionist about it. It wasn't like before, where he didn't bother with learning other instruments for the DMC song, or when he did some playback for the 'Animal I Have Become' song so he could focus on playing the guitar and nothing else.
Now, he wanted none of that.
No cutting corners, and no sparing effort in creating it.
He wanted his creation to succeed. No, not just succeed—he wanted it to shock everyone.
He wanted it to be the best song, even better than any of the ones he'd stolen before.
It was a test for himself. Proof that he could be great without relying on others or on sad things like plagiarism.
The system had given him the tools. All he needed was to prove he had the drive and determination to go through with it.
'This Aura Farming thing sure is brainwashing me, huh?' Taka thought with a wry smile.
If it were his old self—the one from before he got the system—he wouldn't have cared about plagiarism as long as it made him stronger. But now? The very idea made him feel cheap. Like, he could be better than that.
'But I guess that's what it means to be an Aura Farmer, huh?'
With an amused scoff, Taka's walk home continued for a while more.
It would have been great if that's where it ended—but…
"...?!"
Suddenly, his Trouble Radar went off. Making his body go stiff, and his eyes widen like platters.
Normally, when the skill was activated, it didn't warrant such a reaction… but this time, it was different.
There was trouble incoming, yes. There wasn't a change in that function of the skill.
But the level of danger he felt coming from it… It was unprecedented.
On a scale of 1 to 10 on the danger level, the previous villain attacks were his skill had warned him about had been between 2 to 4. Nothing too grand.
But this?
This was a solid 7.
It may not seem like that big of a difference using the scale, but the difference between the feelings given by both was like heaven and earth.
One was a small sense of dread, like entering somewhere you shouldn't, hence doing something illegal. It felt slightly wrong.
This alarm, however, felt like watching everything go to shit without being able to do anything. Staring helplessly as everything crumbles around.
They were not even close.
Startled, his eyes darted around, scanning his surroundings.
Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
And yet… that only made it more unsettling.
'Should I leave? I have a feeling this might be more than I can chew.'
Taka swallowed nervously, taking a step back.
Sure, he was strong right now—but in a world where Quirks of every kind and shape existed, thinking you were invincible was the dumbest thing you could do.
Besides, he hadn't brought his usual Rockinesis gear, so if he stuck around, his identity would be at risk.
"Yeah, this is stupid," Taka muttered, sneering to himself as he started turning back.
In the original series, there had never been any mention of an event like this, so it was probably something that got resolved on its own.
Even if he wasn't here, everything would most likely go fine.
...Right?
Well, now that he thought about it, it wouldn't have been strange if there had been a few casualties, but not enough to make it a society-shaking event, hence not worth appearing in the show.
Or maybe he was wrong for thinking of both this reality and the show as the same.
Regardless of what may have happened in the show... this was real life.
And things never went as expected in real life.
Taka stopped mid-step.
His eyes shifted to the side, scanning his surroundings—almost as if expecting something.
No, he was searching for something.
Something like… a mission.
...
And yet, nothing came.
"Do you... have nothing to say about this, system?" he asked.
[Do you really need a mission for this, host? I think you know what you should do]
Taka blinked.
Then, a wry smile spread across his face as he let out a scoff.
"Yeah... I suppose I do, huh?"
As the words left his mouth, his gaze sharpened.
He took a deep breath and swept his hair back—his usual leisure and bored attitude shifting to a more serious one.
Then stepped forward.
To where?
Directly toward where the alarms were ringing.
As for the reason?
"For I am an Aura Farmer."
...
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-To be Continued…-
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(A/N: Now, the base of operations has been revealed, along with some of the process Taka goes through to improve.
And now, another hurdle appears before Taka. Will he triumph, or will he suck?
Also, was that last part tuff? Or did it make you cringe?)