"Uhh... what am I looking at here?"
Aria stood proudly in front of a punching meter, smiling like she actually knew what she was doing. If anything, this was certainly not the right place to get stronger. In an arcade on the second floor, while spending hours punching a machine.
But looking at her face, all the answers were there. The way she looked at me and back at that load of junk, smiling. Did she really want me to punch it?
"What makes you think this is going to work?" I asked with folded arms. "I'm trying to get stronger, you know. Not to play a game."
Technically, the whole system setup was game-like. Like a new action entry you'd see on an ad and download just because you wanted to use the best of whatever adrenaline had you kicking.
"It worked for me," Aria replied with a shrug. "Not through motivation though."
"What do you mean?"
"You'll see." She smiled, then nodded at the machine, gesturing for me to give it a try.
"Fine!" I said, stomping towards the machine.
The monitor had the digital drawing of a small orc waving a hi at me. Then appeared the instructions.
[FIRST TRY IS FREE. GET ABOVE 300 HIT POINTS TO GET THE NEXT TRIAL FOR FREE TOO!]
"300 points? Pfft. That's easy."
I moved back a little, pulling out my fists for a brutal dive. WHACK! I gave my best shot at the hanging bag, well, almost my best shot. It didn't quite land as I'd expected.
But at least the machine shook. That was a good sign, right? The numbers began to count. 50, ...90, ...150,...209. It stopped. The heck? Keep counting.
[HAHA. YOU LOSE. NEXT TRIAL IS 5 CENTS]
I heard Aria snicker behind me. I recognised what mockery sounded like anywhere. It sounded like the laughter of people who thought they were better than you.
I turned to her. "What's so funny? That wasn't even my best shot."
"Alright. Alright." She said, still trying to hold in her laughter. "Show me your best shot."
I turned back to the punching meter, tweaking my fists like I was actually about to pull the greatest move. Main character energy. The kind of energy that came with trying to show that you've secretly been an overpowered person.
I filed out a coin from my pocket, five cents. I inserted it into the coin deposit of the machine, then pulled my arm backwards for my next super punch.
When I smashed my fist against the bag, the sound rippled. A sound of significance. The numbers are pooled over each other. Going past a hundred. 200,... And then..
"201?"
[HAHA. TRY AGAIN LOSER!]
Aria's laughter became louder. So loud, that hearing it practically haunted me to my bones. Losing to a girl was already embarrassing enough. Getting embarrassed in front of a girl? Now that was a unique sort of torture.
"And back in Sancho's crib, you were all like, 'I didn't need your help.'" She said that last part while mimicking my voice. "I thought you'd at least be a little strong."
I didn't answer her. I just pulled another cent from my pocket, shoved it in aggressively and took another swing at the punching bag. The numbers went right in my face again. 213.
The more Aria laughed, the more I felt the urge to reach for a coin and embarrass myself again. 200. 215. 208. It was never past that average.
By now, my arms were starting to become sore. Even Aria had stopped laughing, supposedly used to my failures by now. She was behind me, slurping on a juice box while watching me throw every last of my money into some junk machine.
"What's your highest score on this shit?" I slipped in a question after tossing my very last coin in for another attempt.
"999." She said casually.
"999?" The heck? That was pretty much the highest score on this thing. "I don't believe that."
Aria didn't argue, she just stood up from whatever couch she'd been seated on. Reaching the punching meter, she pulled a punch at it. One so effortlessly done, yet so powerful that the screen cracked.
The numbers didn't count. They concluded. 999. Like that number was only the lowest score it could estimate, but was just there because that was the set limit.
[WE HAVE A WINNER]
[YOUR NEXT TRIAL IS— FREE!]
I was probably doing a bad job trying to hide the disbelief in my expression. Because Aria made a heroic pose that made it seem like so. I straightened my face and lowered my eyes. Unconcerned look. A slight yawn to fit the picture.
"Still," I said, trying to find words to suffice for whatever miracle she'd just pulled.
Unfortunately, I didn't find any. My brain was still trying to process how she could have done that like it wasn't even supposed to be hard work. Was her ability a physical type of ability? That'd probably explain why she'd been able to whip up Sancho and his gang effortlessly.
"Don't get all inferior now." She said while still sipping her juice. "You have no idea how many months of practice that took."
And coins too. With that kind of force, she could probably overpower Ember's punch if she had been in that fight.
"After building my force to such a level, learning other things—like speed and stamina— became optional. It's easier to get by with jerks with just a punch, you know?" She sat back on the couch, tossing the juice carton into a nearby trash can.
Maybe she was right. Sometimes, all it took to settle a duel was just one punch. The world didn't need dramatic fighters anymore. It just needed someone who was evidently stronger than the other. A clear victor.
And apparently, all it took to become that kind of person, was...a punching meter?
*******
(External POV)
"What in the world is this?"
Mr Voss. Founder of Silvic High. He had a nick for yelling whenever Cael's innovativeness clicked. It'd first happened back when he was in fourth grade, an idea to present free library rights to every student.
Even then, Voss had called his idea stupid. Unhelpful. And Cael had spent the next few years jotting down ideas that were always thrown down the shredder by his father.
And now, a year away from graduating from Silvic High, his father still thought the same about his ideas. At this point, it was no longer safe to call it a coincidence.
"An open tier system. A system where students can move between tiers based on demonstrated growth. Not just remain static by raw ability and rank classification." Cael explained. "We can create Silvic's high own rank system—"
"Three years, Cael." Mr Voss butt in, settling a stern look on his son. "I let you keep the position of the Jack of Silvic High because you promised to show me your worth for it." He was moving his hands as he spoke, raising Cael's documented plan. "And after three years, you still keep these kinds of ideas."
He flung the papers away from his desk, where they glided in the air before dropping at Cael's feet.
"Hear me out for once, Dad. If we continue with the current system, the low tiers with potential will never develop because the ceiling is fixed and is weighing on them. They need the chance to—"
"Hierarchy exists because people need to know their place. The moment you tell a low tier they can rise, you give them ideas above their station. Ideas create instability. Instability creates weakness. A school that cannot maintain internal order cannot project external strength." Mr Voss's scowl deepened at Cael.
"..."
"You would understand that if you knew anything about order, Cael." His father concluded, eyes focused on his screen. "Come back with a better idea next time."
As Cael walked out of the room, he felt despair wash over him. Three years. Three years trying to prove to his father that he was capable of leading. Three years of trying to be enough.
But he never was.
Every time, they chose his brother over him. Through mistakes. Through reckless actions and leadership. They still kept the crown on his head. Zael Voss. King of Silvic High. He hated how they'd always accepted him, like he was some supposed perfect human being.
RINNG. RINNG.
Cael shoved his phone out of his pocket, glanced at the caller and slid over to the receive button.
"I found him." The person on the receiving end said. "The guy who's been hanging out with Aria."
"Name?"
"Ren Mora." The voice said. "He's a low tier. He's unimportant. Maybe you should just let this one go—"
"Find out more about him," Cael said, his voice cold as ice. "And be quiet about it."