Chapter 41: Plans and Workout
Paradox Wizard
M.D.
“How many of those shirts did you make?” Heather asked, sitting in the tiny schooldesk that Perry had made for the occasion.
“They were having a sale, so basically I’m gonna keep going through them until I get a laugh outta you.”
“Good luck, I guess.” Heather shrugged.
“Alright,” Perry popped open the cap on his dry erase marker, marking the top of the whiteboard.
CHEMESTRO
“Alright, after reviewing the tapes of the night before, I’ve deduced that his power is…
Permeability
The board squeaked as Perry wrote the word down.
“He literally said that, you know.”
“Wasn’t sure if he was lying,” Perry said. “But now I’m pretty sure he was telling the truth.
“Now,” Perry made another bubble named USES, then began branching off of it.
“It’s a Catalyst power, which is one that alters or controls physics at a fundamental level. Generally a Catalyst and an energy user have similar glass-cannon status, although Chemestro is obviously enhanced.”
Generally the difference between an energy user and a Catalyst is flexibility. There’s only so many ways you can cut and burn things after all.”
FLIGHT
Pseudo Telekinesis
“He uses permeability to control air pressure, creating a sort of pseudo telekinesis that allows him to both fly and move others. This power is likely limited by atmospheric pressure, which is about fourteen point six PSI.”
“What about the explosions? I felt those.”
“I think that was just him concentrating oxygen and flammable gases and causing them to self-ignite.” Perry said, frowning.
“How did he make them ignite?” Heather asked. “Can he increase air pressure beyond atmospheric?”
“I don’t know…” Perry said. “Perhaps concentrate static electricity to create a detonator?”
“Plausable.” Heather said.
EXPLOSIONS à Static Electricity?
“Let’s not forget he disintegrated my borrowed club…somehow.” Perry started writing.
Disintegration à living tissue?
“That’s a spooky thought,” Heather said.
“Chances are good he can but chooses not to. Living flesh doesn’t inherently behave any different than everything else. So…
Mutually assured destruction.
“Let’s not back him into too much of a corner,” Perry said.
Power armor useless?
“If he can reliably use his power on my suit it’ll be worthless. The best way to handle him is being able to beat him with no weapons at all.”
Research Power resistant materials?
Magical defense/Offence
“Hmmm…” Perry hummed then started a new category.
Weaknesses:
Under that he wrote:
Vision/Awareness limits powers
Human reaction time.
Low durability.
Low durability was relative to bruisers who could take tank rounds and missiles to the chest.
Perry frowned, then added another.
Hugs.
“So we need these things,” Perry said.
Invisible attacks.
Probe material resistances, then boost them.
Defense against disintegration of self.
Defense against physical damage that doesn’t rely on armor.
Hug cannon.
“You’re not serious about that last one, are you?” Heather asked.
“Nope,” Perry said, clicking the marker cap back on.
“I’ll do some research on stealth drones and such, see what I can put together that might make take our friend by surprise. I’ll send some non-stealth drones after him and record how he dismantles them to see if we can isolate anything his power doesn’t work on so well…
“For the last two, I’ve got an idea…” Perry said.
“So what am I supposed to do?” Heather asked.
“We’re gonna want to practice your maneuverability techniques and attack speed. If you were a more proficient flier, you might’ve been able to escape that juggling technique he caught you in,” Perry said. “And we’ll see if we can’t fabricate a stealth suit for you.”
“Stealth hyperweave is insanely expensive.” Heather said.
“Which Is why I wanna try my hand at making some myself…” Perry said. there were a dozen or so brands of hyperweave, after all, each a little different owing to the Tinker who produced them. If they could do it, why not Perry?
Heather was wearing the cheap stuff right now.
“I’m not gonna have to pay you for it, am I?” Heather asked.
“Of course not,” Perry said. “I’ll just assess a modest fraction of any bounties you -gah!” Heather’s arm stretched out and punched him in the shoulder.
Rubbing his shoulder, Perry went back to the whiteboard and wrote down another point.
Powerleveling
He then drew a line from that to over half the points on his list.
“All of these become easier if I get another level or two under my belt.
Perry briefly focused on his status.
Paradox Zauberer (Perry Z.)
Class: Garage Tinker
Level 3
HP: 4
Body: 3
Stability: 3
Nerve: 6
Attunement: 16
Free Points: 0
XP to next level: 473
“Oh, cool,” Perry said. He’d gotten over a thousand XP during the Barbecue. Probably two separate payments for the party itself and the fight.
In line with the increased opportunity that XP represented, he’d been approached by a handful of supers who were interested in a similar security system for their own lairs.
Perry had turned them down as he already had enough on his plate, but he left the option open for future work.
He now had those supers’ phone numbers.
After a moment of thinking, Perry flexed his arm, glancing down at his bicep.
There was one way he could close the distance between himself and Chemestro: Put on some muscle armor.
Perry was currently lean, bordering on skinny, with a bench press of a measly 150. He needed to put that extra 15.7% strength and recovery speed to work for him.
I do have a gym…
Under powerleveling, Perry wrote:
Get Swole
Heather laughed out loud.
***Chemestro***
Click, click, click.
The sound of chalk on blackboard echoed through Chemestro’s lair as he debriefed himself.
“So Paradox will most likely temporarily abandon defense, as my power is far too difficult to physically defend against, and instead adopt a method relying on speed, stealth, or surprise.”
The conclusion that Chemestro had come to was that while his offence was varied and flexible enough for the top tiers of Nexus, he needed to shore up his defense.
PASSIVE DEFENCE
Chemestro circled the phrase twice, tapping the blackboard before writing again.
INFORMATION ON PARADOX
ACTIVE DEFENCE
All of those things had one thing in common:
$$$
Chemestro glanced over his shoulder at the industrial chemical plant pumping out liquid profit at $1000 an ounce on the Tinker Marketplace.
He scanned the row of 55 gallon drums filled with the stuff.
Should be sufficient.
*BEEP* *BEEP*
Training time, Chemestro thought as he scowled at his watch, his skin crawling.
Chemestro put down his chalk and left his lair, heading out into the hallways of Father’s lair.
Chemestro was one of the only projects to have his own lair, with multiple rooms and its own facilities. He could stay there nearly indefinitely and not see any of the others if he wished, although his desensitization training put a damper on that thought.
Father has cameras there, too. What kind of super has suppressors targeting themselves in their own lair? Father had lifted the suppression, but Chemestro knew they were there.
Father claimed the suppressors being on last night was to prevent him from reflexively damaging Lu’ann, but perhaps it was also to remind him of his place.
He marched past the three thousands, who were engaging in PT, jogging down the long halls of Father’s lair. The children gawked at their older brother in a clear lack of discipline.
Chemestro ignored them, demonstrating proper behavior by example.
He stopped in front of the therapist’s cell and held his thumb to the lock, causing the bulkhead door to swing open.
The therapist froze as he strode into the ten by ten cell.
“It’s time for two hours of physical intimacy.” Chemestro said, removing his shirt, muscling the revulsion down into the pit of his stomach.
******
“I was uh…expecting something different.” The therapist said, hugging him from behind to provide extra weight as he did pushups. A measly hundred and twenty pounds but good enough for endurance training.
“Time scheduled with you cuts into my PT,” Chemestro said, sweat dripping from his forehead. “And as long as you do your job as specified, Father will have no complaints about multitasking.”
“Kinda feels like you’re trying to avoid being here, mentally.” The therapist said, the phrase cutting deep. Damn therapists and their damn mental insight. Chemestro was beginning to realize that they were a different kind of dangerous.
“I’m as here as I’ll ever be,” Chemestro said, his tone flat.
“Uhuh,” the therapist grunted noncommittally. “Let’s start with something neutral. Tell me about your workout.”
“Four hours every day, targeting two major muscle groups every on rotation, with burnout for each once a week.”
“What’s burnout?” The therapist asked.
“When you lift your max weight until you can’t anymore, then gradually reduce the weight, continuing until you can no longer lift the bar.”
“How long have you been doing it?”
“Since I was twelve.”
“I…see. do you ever take a break?”
“Bi-annually, after a full-body burnout.”
“how old are you?”
“Nineteen.”
“So you’ve only taken fourteen days off?”
“Thirteen. We’re only halfway through the year.”
“What do you do on those days?”
“Study and recover.”
“Uhuh.” The therapist said. “Do you enjoy working out?”
Chemestro thought about it for a moment.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Because nothing bad has ever happened during a workout.
Chemestro didn’t say it, falling silent instead.
“Is it because nothing bad ever happened to you during a workout?” Lu’ann asked, her arms tightening around him.
Chemestro’s skin crawled, his adrenaline spiked, and he threw the therapist off his back, dumping her on her butt as he stood with his back to the steel wall, panting. It felt like insects were crawling across his skin.
“Ow,” The therapist said, rubbing her butt as she stood.
“Don’t do that.” Chemestro said.
“Don’t do what?”
“Don’t get in my head,” Chemestro said, taking a step forward and looming over her, his discomfort manifesting as anger.
She looked up at him with wide, innocent brown eyes.
“Isn’t that what your Father wants me to do?”
Chemestro’s head began to shake as his neck muscles began trembling unbidden, his eyes watering. A directionless fire burned in his chest and he really wanted to hit the therapist, but she was an asset and performing her job. Father would be displeased.
“Fine, just…get on my back, it’s time for lunges.”
***Paradox***
This is boring. And painful.
I’m bored and in pain.
“What kind of moron would want to do this!?” Perry grunted the words out as he forced the trembling bar up away from his chest, an abysmal one hundred and forty pounds.
“C’mon, just three more and you’re done with your set,” Jetset said, his fingers under the bar to make sure Perry didn’t crush himself.
Not that one forty would kill me, but it’s a good habit to be in.
“I don’t think I can do it,” Perry said. Getting swole was 100% not worth this level of aggravation.
“LCC, put the video of Perry getting his ass kicked up on the wall.” Heather said from her machine.
“You jerk!” Perry grunted as a highlight reel of Chemestro tossing him around like a sandbag began playing on the wall from a projector in the ceiling.
I meant that to be for sports or movies while working out.
Perry would admit this though: It was highly motivating.
New Quest! Finish an extra set!
Reward: 5XP
Oooo! That’s what I’m talking about.
Thus motivated, Perry dug deep and finished another set, rendering his arms into painful limp noodles.
“Well, I’m done working out for the day,” Heather said, her body covered in a sheen of sweat and looking run-down.
“We just started. Aren’t you supposed to…target parts and vary it up a bit?” Perry asked. He wasn’t keen on bodybuilding terminology.
“I just moved all my muscles into my arms and did one of Titan’s machines.” Heather said with a shrug. “Got my whole body in one go.”
“Freakin’ cheater,” Perry muttered.
“You’re just jealous.”
“Heck yeah I am, Perry said, wiping the sweat off his face.
“Hey, maybe you can Tinker yourself some bigger muscles.” Heather said.
Perry seriously considered it for a moment before shaking his head.
“Nah. I think I can get about twenty-five XP per day if I do it the old fashioned way. That will be worth more in the long run than a magical solution.”
Perry had been looking for motivation to continue working out, and his System had delivered. Work out full-steam for twenty days and he’d have his next level. The thing was dangling a carrot in front of his face, and Perry was gonna go for it.
“I’m still weirded out about the whole XP thing.” Heather said, shaking her head as she left.
“And make a dang shower room, already!” She shouted over her shoulder.
“The XP thing is weird,” Jetset said.
“Tell me about it.” Perry said heading for the leg machine.
“So like, how does it work?”
Perry gave Jetset the shorthand while he began torturing his legs.
“Why does it give you XP for beating other people, then? The way you described it is limited to self improvement.”
“It harvests causal potential from people whose potential I diminish. If I beat someone in a fight, they’re not gonna go rob a bank the next morning, or get a bagel, or meet the love of their life. They’re gonna be in jail. Potential diminished.”
“Interesting. So if we sparred and you beat me, you’d get XP?” Jetset asked.
“Well, maybe, but not from diminishing your potential because I wouldn’t be arresting you or beating you so hard you were unable to do anything. If I gained any it would be from me learning to fight better.”
“Weird.” Jetset said.
“Yeah.”
Perry’s legs began to burn like they someone had maliciously injected them with acid, causing him to wonder why the hell he was doing this.
New Quest! Finish an extra set!
Reward: 5XP
Ah. There it is.