1% Lifesteal

Mark found himself walking in a dark forest, a muted moon barely illuminating his path.

It was the darkest night—where the worst things happened.

He had no recollection of this place; not at first, at least. But as his steps moved him forward, past the trees and low, scattered brush, he eventually smelled a note that tickled the far back of his mind. It was a swampy, unpleasant smell.

He had been here before. In a distant time, when things were simpler. A time when he had been innocent.

As the image of the trees overlapped with a memory, his breath hastened. Sweat pooled over his body, and his hands shivered. He knew where he was. Slowly, with unspeakable terror, he turned to face the small patch of marsh.

The small pond stirred. It bubbled and boiled, overflowing with putrid liquid as a figure clawed its way out. The muck and algae dripped down the man’s body as he straightened his back. Although his body was obscured by a profound darkness, shadows concealing his features and hiding his eyes, Mark recognized him immediately.

“Hey, dude,” Freddy greeted him. “Long time no see.”

“S—” Mark started, finding his words catching in his throat. “Stay the hell away from me!” he screamed as his legs suddenly gave out and fell to the ground, pushing his way back.

“Hmm?” the man hummed, cocking his head slowly until it leaned at a ninety-degree angle. “What’s with the reaction?” he asked, stepping forward. “What, did you become too rich to talk to me?”

Mark shouted and sobbed, trying to apologize with every breath he took, but it was as if he was swallowing barbed wire.

The image of Freddy slowly moved into the pale light, dragging the swampy growth behind him. With heavy steps, he exited the darkness as the moon illuminated his square eyes. “Come on, dude, it’s not funny.”

Mark woke up shouting, whirling as he looked around, seeking a phantom in the darkness of the night. Nobody was there. His shouts gradually turned into pained wails as his throat gave out. He couldn’t calm down.

He curled into a ball, hugging his knees as he sobbed, the image of the ghoulish eyes seared into the back of his mind.

“Oh, God…” he muttered to himself, shivering and sweating as he pulled the covers over his head. “I’m so sorry…”

***

“What’s for breakfast?” Sophia asked Freddy as soon as he stepped out of his bedroom.

“Good morning to you, too, freeloader,” he answered, shaking his head in amusement. Where the hell was this woman finding all this energy this early in the day?

Granted, it was already past noon, and her being hungry didn’t really come as a surprise. He himself felt quite a bit better, although he still felt kind of ill. The death essence had all but vanished from his body, leaving plenty of damage on its way out. Yet again, he found himself blessed to have 1% Lifesteal, a talent that could make the awful feeling go away.

She kept staring at him with expectant eyes, and he sighed. “Sit down. I’ll bring the food.”

Sophia cheerfully obeyed, plopping herself down on one of the two chairs placed beside the small table. She hummed a tune, bobbing her head to the left and right. It took him a long moment to recognize the alien grunts as an attempt at singing.

“How tone-deaf can you be?” he called teasingly.

The woman simply ignored him, continuing her nonsense.

He walked over to the fridge and opened it. Barring a few eggs that had been sitting there for almost a month, the scattering of random crap that had gone bad a while ago, and the massive packets of canned coffee and energy drinks, he found nothing edible in the fridge. He was supposed to go to the store yesterday, but that had slipped his mind, given all that happened.

Shrugging, he walked over to a cupboard instead. He opened it and pulled out a bag containing three-day-old bread. It hadn’t gotten moldy yet.

He stared at the bread for a long moment, then turned to face the freeloader sitting at the table. Technically speaking, the woman had access to the same advantage his talent gave him. A small smile curled up on his lips. It was time to teach her a small diet life hack exclusive to the two of them. He was sure the woman would be incredibly thankful.

Walking over to the table, he plopped the bag of stale bread and opened it. For half a second, the woman looked expectant, only for her expectation to turn into confusion. “This is just bread. Where is the food?”

“This is the food,” he said as he took a piece of bread out and put it into his mouth. It was dry and chewy. “Mmmmm, nutrients.”

She smiled and stared at him as she crossed her arms. “You’re seriously going to eat that?” she asked.

“Yeah.” He nodded and continued to chomp on his meal.

“Okay,” she said, her smile widening as she gestured at the bag. “Go ahead,” she challenged. It seemed that she believed he was simply messing with her. Unfortunately for her, he wasn’t.

To really hammer it in, he got a large glass of water. Then, without a hint of humor or reluctance in his movement, he dipped a piece of stale bread to wet it and put the soggy pastry into his mouth.

At first, her smile grew a bit strained. But as he kept eating, an expression of pure terror descended upon her. “You’re seriously going to eat that!?” she asked, looking thoroughly disgusted.

“Well, this is all I have.”

“Order something,” she commanded more than suggested, gawking in disbelief. “Don’t you know how important your diet is?”

He smiled ear to ear. “We have an infinite source of supreme-quality healing,” he reminded her, smiling widely. “As long as we supply enough nutrients, our bodies will remain perfectly healthy no matter how we get our energy”

“And you think bread alone is enough for that?”

“Why’d I waste my money on anything else?”

“Uh…” She blinked at him. “You do know your body needs more than just empty carbs, right?”

His smile widened further as he got up and opened another cupboard. He pulled out another small bag and spilled it out on the table.

Numerous crappy supplements and multivitamins fell out, some rolling over the side of the table and falling to the ground.

She watched in abject horror as he proceeded to fill a bowl with numerous pills, fill it with water, and then eat it with a spoon as if he were eating cereal.

“Oh my God…” she whispered. “Oh! My! God!” she screamed. “I’m actually going to puke,” she said as she put an arm to her mouth and made belching sounds.

He swallowed another spoonful of pills as he grinned toothily at her.

***

Freddy cheerfully waved Sophia goodbye as she left the apartment, holding a borrowed $100 bill she would use to buy new clothes and get something to eat. As soon as she left, he sprinted to the toilet, unable to contain the disaster he had brewed in his stomach. Eating supplements like that wasn’t a good idea.

A sweaty, exhausting half-hour later, he crawled out, looking pale and clenching his stomach. “Totally worth it,” he said, stumbling over to the exit from the apartment.

Sophia and he had arranged to meet in the evening, as he had a few things to take care of. The first of which was something he was itching to do as soon as possible—selling the prime vestige.

Usually, he would be too paranoid to sell it, fearing getting scammed, but being a two-star came with many privileges those of lower rank in society didn’t have. One of these privileges was access to certain special services.

Given that he was actively delving, he had accounted for the possibility of finding a prime. And he had naturally researched the best way to sell it. Although there were many options, he realistically only really had two. The first was the same as what he did with the Super Farmer prime—sell it to a trader.

This was a risky option, and traders naturally wanted the odds in their favor. But they could also lose money during such a deal. They were the ones who took the risk of auctioning the prime, so if it went poorly, they suffered a loss.

When dealing with suckers like Freddy, it was easy as hell for them to crack a profit, so if they could, they always went down this route. But as their clientele increased in personal power and decreased in naivete, they were forced to get a bit more… flexible.

This was where the second option came in, a service he could only get as a certified two-star archhuman or a member of a reputable organization. He was going to commission a trader to sell the prime for him. Sure, it would cost him 10% of the total profit, but it removed the risk of getting utterly scammed.

Freddy walked over to the local branch of the ATA, which was only a ten-minute walk from where he was renting. The building was quite a bit smaller than the one he saw back in Pittersville, and while it had a similar style on the inside, it looked considerably more worn down.

He went to a trader’s office and walked inside, where he was greeted by a chubby, balding man.

The two of them talked, and he decided to commission the trader. The trader offered him a million dollars upfront, and it took every bit of willpower he had to refuse. The man was insistent, claiming this was the safer option for him, but he remained stubborn.

Even if he ultimately earned less money, he could live with that far easier than he could with getting scammed again.

There were three different types of auctions in which they could participate. The first was the bullet auction, which lasted only an hour; the second lasted a day, and the third lasted a week. The longer ones were better for more exotic primes since they gave the right buyers more time to find them and start competing.

The bullet auction was the best choice for the prime Freddy was selling. It was a desirable prime with many prospective buyers, and it wouldn’t struggle to reach a reasonable price, while it would most likely get buried deep in the longer auctions. He took the trader’s advice.

The more money he earned, the more money the trader earned. Their interests were perfectly aligned.

Both men signed the documents, sealing their agreement in formal writing, and without further ado, the prime was up for sale.

What proceeded was the most intense hour of his life. At first, he sweated as the prime struggled to break through fifty thousand dollars. Only around fifty minutes in did it step past the hundred thousand mark.

A deep pit was forming in his stomach as he watched the price inch forward. Was he about to suffer a massive loss? Had his hubris come to bite him in the ass once again? But then, as the timer ticked to below five minutes, he watched the price instantly soar above two hundred thousand. He nearly jumped out of the chair in excitement, and yet again as the price leaped by another fifty thousand dollars.

The price no longer increased in small increments, but when it jumped, it soared by tens of thousands at the very least. He cheered it on, biting his knuckles anxiously as he watched the price rise.

Five hundred thousand.

Six hundred thousand.

Seven hundred thousand.

The timer dropped below ten seconds, and he waited for the final push, anxiously anticipating a massive series of jumps… One that never came. The price went up a few more times, ending the auction at 780,000 dollars.

He sagged in the chair, watching the countdown reach zero. 10% went to the trader, so his final tally was 702,000 dollars. He would have earned 300,000 more had he sold the prime up front.

Rather than rage and throw a tantrum, he simply smiled and shrugged. Whatever.

It genuinely didn’t bother him. In his own eyes, this was merely one of who knew how many primes he would sell in his life. If he kept bearing the burden of risk, he would come out on top in the long run.

And, by all means, this sum was more than enough for his current needs.

***

Freddy sat in the Santorio Hub lobby, arriving thirty minutes earlier than the arranged meeting with Sophia. He was clad in his full gear, but even despite that fact, his body language alone made it easy to tell that he was in an excellent mood.

After paying his taxes and closing his loan with the bank, he was left with a total of 649,412.12 dollars in his bank account. It wasn’t a particularly impressive sum for a two-star warrior, but it was a solid safety net, nonetheless.

Eventually, Sophia finally showed up, and they headed towards the passage.

“How much money did you earn?” she asked him.

“None of your business,” he answered.

She pouted at him but didn’t ask a second time.

As they walked into the realm, they found that it was daytime. They made their way to the hiding spot where they had their first meeting and climbed over the boulders as they made their way into the small hole.

He sat down, crossing one leg over another. “So,” he started, looking up at her, “let’s talk about that spark of undeath.”