POWERLESS Page 5

  "Like throwing a match," the other boy snorted.

  Schmendrick grimaced. "Yep. I just have this innate desire to avoid attention whenever possible. And if I won our match and then won the tournament itself, this would have brought even more unwanted attention to me. You love to seek attention and winning our match does that. I wanted to avoid attention and losing our match does that. So in the end, it wasn't a hard decision to make. You did win the tournament, right?" he asked for confirmation.

  "Yep," Malkus reciprocated. "I definitely wanted to win our match but not like this. Someday, you're gonna have to fight me for real. No holding back."

  "You got it," Schmendrick agreed. He looked at the other teenager's face more closely. He saw a purple bruise on Malkus' left cheek. But otherwise, the other boy was remarkably uninjured. "What happened in your match with Torre?" he asked. He couldn't figure out how Malkus won with such a small injury.

  Malkus grinned. He was happy to change the subject slightly. "We had a small showdown--one punch each for the win."

  Schmendrick quickly understood what he meant. "You took his best shot and then gave him the same," he said and shook his head. Apparently, he wasn't the only crazy boy around here. "Torre's got a solid punch. You took a risky bet that you would remain standing."

  "But I won the bet!" Malkus retorted. "Torre is like a bulldog--strong and feisty. But he still couldn't handle my best shot," he smirked.

  "Is that why you're not rooming with him? Because you're afraid of Torre?" Schmendrick taunted.

  Malkus scowled at the remark. "Bro, I ain't afraid of no one." He paused for a moment. "Except a weirdo like you, maybe," he conceded. "But seriously, though, Torre seemed to hit it off with that patsy named Yolo. Since 3 of us are taking this room, Torre decided to hang with Yolo across from us instead."

  "Yolo's not a patsy," Schmendrick refuted. "He has strong principles and I can certainly respect that. He's not the type of kid who will do whatever the instructor tells him to do. That's why he's in the instructor's doghouse. The instructor decked him in our first class for asking a simple question, remember? Yolo is the type of guy who thinks for himself. That makes him dangerous to the instructor."

  "If you say so," Malkus shrugged. How could a long-haired softie be a threat to anyone? "So . . . which room are you taking? Mine or Torre's?" he asked.

  Schmendrick looked at the teenager for a moment. He wanted to acknowledge it openly. "Look, I know you're 100% comfortable with me. But I don't think Aggen and Burns feel the same way about me."

  "They just think you're weird," Malkus quickly defended them. "And you did fuck over Burns pretty good in your match with him. I can't blame him for being afraid of you. You almost killed him."

  Schmendrick held up his hands to placate his comrade. "I get it. And I'm not offended. At all. So you guys won't have to worry that I'm going to murder you in your sleep," he joked.

  The other boy's eyes widened in shock, fear, and finally, anger. "Don't joke about shit like that, man!" he yelled.

  "Sorry." Schmendrick stood up. "I'll go now." He opened the door and left the room. He saw Aggen and Burns talking softly in the hallway. "Thanks. You can have your room back. I'll stay with Torre and Yolo," he said.

  The two politely nodded. But the look of relief on their faces was evident.

  Schmendrick offered them a friendly smile and then entered the other room.

  The two occupants of the room immediately turned their heads to him.

  "I won," Yolo declared with a fist pump.

  "Shit," Torre said.

  "What was the bet?" Schmendrick asked as he closed the door behind him.

  "Which room you will choose to stay in," Yolo replied. "Torre thinks that you and Malkus are inseparable. I think that's bullshit," he explained with a laugh.

  "Hey, you two seemed this tight," Torre said raising his right hand and crossing two fingers.

  Schmendrick sucked his teeth. "Well, we ain't," he admitted.

  "Because you threw your match with him," Torre said pointedly.

  "You knew?" Schmendrick grimaced.

  Yolo's eyes widened.

  "If you haven't noticed, I'm a fighter," the short boy smirked. "My vision is excellent. I saw you purposely line your head into Malkus' right hook. I have to say, though, he does have a mean punch."

  "So why did you do it?" Yolo asked. He was very unhappy with Schmendrick for throwing a match the boy should have won. And personally, Yolo couldn't fathom ever doing something like this.

  Schmendrick shrugged. "I sorta have this aversion to unwanted attention. And if I end up winning the tournament, it would draw too much attention my way," he explained.

  Yolo nodded. "I can see that. You were so pissed when you knocked me out of the ring in 7 seconds during our match."

  "I tried to explain this to Malkus. I'm not sure he bought it, though," Schmendrick replied.

  Torre changed the subject. He pointed at the two beds on top. "Which one?" he asked.

  Schmendrick replied, "I'll take the one above Yolo."

  1.9 - The Noob Academy,

  Lesson 5

  "Attention, please. Attention, please. It is time for the next lesson to begin. Please enter the green portal in the hallway immediately," the metallic voice instructed.

  The boys groaned at the announcement. A good hour had passed since they were sent to the dormitory. The respite didn't last long. However, none of the pupils of the academy dared to contemplate disobedience. After all, the memory of Brandon being struck by lightning was still fresh in their minds.

  It turned out that the portal was placed on the far end of the hallway, opposite from the communal restroom. Purely out of habit, the boys lined up in single file and entered the green portal.

  Schmendrick was last in line and the last to enter.

  The system confirmed that all the students had left the dormitory and the portal winked out of existence.

  * * *

  The boys groaned again when they saw that they had returned to the gym. It was fast becoming a house of horrors where bad events kept happening to the student population.

  The instructor was already present when they arrived at the gym. He took delight in their uneasiness. When the portal disappeared from the room, the instructor began his next lesson. "I hope you had a nice rest, ladies. I'm sure you noticed that each of you was assigned a dagger in a sheath. This next lesson will teach you how to use it. And you will spend the next two hours practicing with it. The dagger is an interesting weapon. It can be used as a melee weapon or a short-ranged thrown weapon. The first hour we will focus on its melee aspect. The second hour will shift to its ranged aspect." The instructor typed into the keyboard.

  12 holograms of faceless humans stood behind him.

  "I just set up practice dummies. There is one dummy for each of you. Your first task is to stab your dummy in the heart 10 times. Now, this assignment may sound simple at first. But believe me, it's not. You'll find out why in a moment." The instructor's evil grin returned. "Begin!" he barked.

  Some of the students were reluctant to approach the human-like dummies. They didn't know how to use a dagger much less attack with one.

  Schmendrick quickly stepped forward. He veered toward the dummy on the very left end.

  The spell of paralysis broke and the boys rushed forward to claim their own practice dummy.

  Malkus took the one next to Schmendrick, followed by Aggen, Burns, Torre, and Yolo. The clique formed the left half of the line.

  Schmendrick took out the dagger from its sheath at his left hip. He ignored the stares from the rest of his class. Instead, the teenager focused his concentration on the dummy before him. His eyes were glued to the location of the heart. Schmendrick held the dagger upright with the blade pointed upward. He jabbed at the dummy with the swiftness of a viper!

  "Hit." The green text flashed over the wound on the dummy. It was the heart. Once the pop-up disappeared, the dummy turned its torso, tilting left.<
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  Schmendrick saw another message appear; this time the text was in red and positioned right in front of his face. Since the message was blocking his view of the dummy, the teenage boy was forced to pause his attack and read the message: "Dagger is soul-bound to Schmendrick."

  "I almost forgot to mention this," the instructor said when he saw the text in front of Schmendrick's face. "After you use your dagger to attack for the first time, it will be soul-bound to you. If someone else tries to grab your soul-bound dagger, he will receive a nasty shock. Okay, you may continue, Schmendrick." The instructor turned to the other students. "The rest of you should start attacking. You have only an hour to complete this exercise," he reminded them.

  The annoying text disappeared from his sight, and Schmendrick shifted his feet slightly to stab the heart again.

  The system confirmed the accuracy of the attack with another green text and then the dummy crouched.

  Schmendrick adjusted his body. In one smooth movement, he bent his right knee and jabbed forward in unison. "Hit."

  The dummy turned its body again. This time, though, the dummy was facing right.

  Schmendrick had a choice to make. He could either do a backstab into the heart or attack with his left hand. Instinctively, he flipped the dagger in the air and snatched it with his left hand. The blade was pointed up. Nonchalantly, he stabbed the dummy in the heart.

  From that moment forward, Schmendrick continuously switched hands to attack the dummy no matter what position it took. Sometimes, he had to point the blade downward to make the hit. But he was able to attack with 100% accuracy--one stab directly to the heart every time. Before he realized it, the task was completed.

  When that occurred, the dummy disappeared. In its place was a green text floating in front of the boy: "Assignment completed: 500 points. Completion in under 60 seconds: 500 points bonus."

  "Ah, fuck!" Schmendrick cursed aloud, earning a quick glance from Malkus.

  Malkus read the message and shook his head. His attention returned to his own dummy. Unlike the crazy psycho, Malkus was nowhere near close to finishing the exercise.

  The instructor had his eyes on Schmendrick for the entire exercise. The man was thoroughly impressed by the boy's apparent proficiency with a dagger. He was also surprised by the student's ambidexterity; it was a rare talent. The instructor glanced at his screen, which was tracking the progress of every student in his class. To his dismay, the next boy closest to completing the exercise now was Malkus, at 5 hits. The instructor decided to use Schmendrick for a related task in order to prod the class to complete its exercise sooner. Or else some of the students will not finish the exercise within the allotted hour. "Schmendrick, head to the right side and teach your classmates," he ordered.

  "Yes, sir!" the boy replied while trying to keep his annoyance out of his voice. He had made the mistake of enjoying the exercise and finished it too quickly. Now, everyone knew that Schmendrick had finished the exercise. Even worse, he was too good with the dagger compared to everyone else in the class. The instructor took notice.

  The condemned teenager jogged over to the right end and quietly observed what the kid was doing. Schmendrick smiled faintly at the mistake. "Dude, you need to keep your eyes open when you stab the dummy," he advised.

  "Oh!" Pasir's face reddened. He had been unconsciously closing his eyes at the moment of impact; this caused him to miss the target. This time, Pasir forced his eyes open and he managed to hit the heart for the first time. He smiled when a green text popped up over the wound and confirmed the hit to the heart.

  "Just keep doing that," Schmendrick patted the bigger boy's back and moved to the next person.

  The temporary instructor watched the classmate for a moment and smiled again. "Hey, Talq! I want you to take one big step closer and then jab at the dummy." The student was standing too far back and his blade couldn't reach the dummy's chest.

  Talq did as instructed and he was rewarded with his first hit to the heart. "Thanks!"

  The next boy's mistake was just as easy to correct. "You need to extend your arm fully," Schmendrick instructed.

  Soon, the instructor reached Yolo. Schmendrick observed the tall boy for a few moments and finally figured out what the problem was: Yolo was too tall! "Yolo, you're coming in too high. I want you to take a step forward with your right foot. Bend your knee lower and then jab," he instructed.

  Yolo tried to follow the instructions but his body lacked the proper coordination. It took many repeated attempts before he was able to do it right. "Ah!" he grinned when he finally got a green confirmation from the system for a clean stab to the heart.

  "Your height and wingspan are making it difficult for you," Schmendrick explained. "Now do it again."

  Yolo needed 3 more attempts to make the second hit.

  "You gotta keep doing this until it becomes part of your muscle memory," the instructor said.

  Yolo nodded.

  Schmendrick stood behind Yolo and watched his student make a clean hit. The instructor was confident that Yolo had developed sufficient muscle memory to finish the exercise. Then Schmendrick continued walking to his left. However, he saw that Torre, Burns, Aggen, and Malkus were well on their way to completing the task. His instruction wasn't needed. Thus, he left them alone.

  When Schmendrick returned to his position to the left of Malkus, the temporary instructor received another message in green: "Assignment completed: 500 points." The teenager sat down and waited until the class was finished with the exercise.

  The exercise lasted almost the full hour. When the last dummy disappeared from the field, the instructor spoke up again. "You just learned how to use a dagger to attack. Your body became adjusted to holding a weapon in your hand. You practiced some hand-eye coordination and learned how to target your weapon. These skills are important to master. More importantly, they are transferable to other melee weapons."

  The instructor typed a command into his keyboard. Panels slid open on the ground and target boards rose to the surface. Each board had five rings. The bull's eye at the center was red colored and then the rings alternated between white and red.

  "Now, we'll learn how to throw a dagger. The exercise will require you to throw the dagger and hit the target successfully from a number of distances starting from 3 feet away and working your way to 10 feet back. Schmendrick, please demonstrate for the class from 3 feet out," he said. "The system will show you where to stand."

  Schmendrick stepped forward. He followed the yellow blinking arrow to the red line. He took out the dagger and held it by the blade between his thumb and forefinger. His hand was pulled back behind his ear. He snapped his arm forward and released the blade. *Thud* The dagger landed dead center. A green text appeared in front of the target board: "50 points."

  The class murmured when they saw the message. The boy had made it look so easy.

  The instructor grinned. "Yes, you will get points for hitting your target. Hitting dead center will net you 50 points and each outer ring will offer 10 fewer points. The outer most ring will yield 10 points. The distance will be 3, 5, 7, 9, and 10 feet. When you manage to earn points from all five distances, the exercise will end. When you complete this exercise, you will earn 50-250 points, depending on your accuracy. When you throw your dagger, you must stand behind the red line or else your throw will not count. Now, begin!"

  Schmendrick continued from his current location. He retrieved his dagger from the board and returned to the red line. He was slightly further back than before but still managed to hit dead center at 5 feet. The next series of throws also hit dead center. While Schmendrick had taken his time in retrieving the dagger after each throw, he still managed to finish the exercise in under 3 minutes. When he successfully hit the target at 10 feet, a green text appeared: "Task completed: 250 points. Bonus reward for perfect accuracy: 250 points. Bonus for finishing first: 250 points. Double bonus for first in class to complete both dagger exercises: 500 points."

  Schmendrick
sighed deeply. No doubt the instructor was keeping track of his progress. And he knew what will happen next.

  Sure enough, the instructor yelled out, "Schmendrick, go and help your classmates!"

  "Yes, sir!" the drafted instructor replied. Schmendrick decided to start by observing whoever was still stuck at 3 feet. He noticed there were 2 classmates in this predicament: Lon and Crass. The two were next to each other. Physically, they were overweight. Their grips on their daggers were shaky. Their throwing motions were erratic and all over the place. Small wonder, then, that their throws couldn't reach the target board.

  "Stop," he said when they retrieved their daggers. "Show me your grip," he ordered.

  Embarrassed by their lack of progress, the two boys feebly held their daggers.

  Schmendrick shook his head. "Hold your dagger in your offhand for a moment. Show me how you pinch something with your dominant hand," he demanded.

  The two teenagers did as he asked.

  Schmendrick pointed a finger at each hand. "That is how you should hold the blade. As if you're pinching something."

  Lon and Crass started to reach for their daggers but the instructor stopped them. "Don't hold your daggers yet. Show me your throwing motion."

  Schmendrick watched silently as he picked apart their motions. They were turning their hips as if they throwing baseballs. That was the reason for their wild throws. Wait! What's a baseball? The instructor dismissed the question from his mind. Schmendrick stood behind Lon and said, "Lon, do it again."

  As Lon started his throwing motion, the instructor grabbed his hips and held it in place. "Don't move your hips. Snap your arm forward at the elbow." Schmendrick released the boy and stepped back. "Now practice your throwing motion."

  Lon did it many times until Schmendrick told him to stop.

  "Now throw the dagger," the instructor ordered.

  Lon remembered to pinch the blade and tried his best to throw without moving his hips. The dagger landed on the outer most ring.

  The green text read: "10 points."

  "I did it!" Lon jumped up and down.