On the fourth day, I finally decided to use my Will Point. Doubts swirled in my mind, but on the other hand, sitting around wasting it made no sense. I had to understand how it worked.
So I called up the now-familiar interface. At this point, 13 out of 18 features were available to me, as their requirements were met, and I had a single Will Point.
I had spent the last three days mentally weighing my options. And I came to the following conclusion. Most of the features available to me at my current state and capabilities were unlikely to bring me substantial benefit. But "Nerve Rope"—now that was something else. Very much so. To stop feeling that nagging, exhausting pain in my ribs and muscles that had plagued me for days… was extremely tempting.
The problem, however, boiled down to plain physiology. Pain is a biological process that tells us something is wrong. If I dulled it in my current state without precisely sensing my limits, I would simply overstrain my body and likely end up disabled—or worse, dead. So this ability was amazing for my future self, but for now, pain was my main ally. Paradoxically, it was my most honest ally. It clearly and honestly told me where my limit was. Suppressing it would be pure self-destruction. So I dismissed this option.
"Structural Thinking"… This was mine. My native element, what I had lived by in my past life. And recently, too. Logic, analysis, programming… the things that had helped me earn money. But I glanced around my apartment and remembered how every time I had to overcome myself just to get up earlier and start working or take on another gig—let alone force myself to train.
"This is for the future, too. Right now, my main project is my own body. It doesn't need an engineer—it needs a disciplined overseer with an iron will." — an inner voice suggested.
So my gaze fell on "Iron Discipline." The requirement was met. I had already earned one Will Point. And now I could choose the tool I so desperately needed.
"Right now, I don't need to feel less pain or be smarter. I need an inner core that won't let me break or give up at the most critical moment. The System doesn't give me strength for free. It offers me a tool so I can forge it within myself. And that tool is discipline."
The decision was made. I mentally focused on the line "Iron Discipline" and imagined dragging my single Will Point onto it.
No special sensations followed. Nothing got easier; the pain in my body didn't vanish; the world didn't suddenly burst into new colors. There were no flashes of light, no euphoria.
But still… My mind felt clearer. That nagging, ever-present inner voice that had whispered "Sit down, rest, why bother? None of it matters" over the past few days seemed to retreat to the back of my mind. It didn't disappear, but it grew quieter and far less convincing. In its place, a new understanding took root: "Yes, it's hard and difficult now. But if I stop now, I won't get better. I don't need to kill myself—just do exactly what I can without harming myself, and stop. Exactly. Without pity, and without foolish heroism."
I looked at the dirty floor. Today, I would do a light, very careful warm-up to get my blood flowing and stretch my tense muscles. Then I'd go to sleep, because I had to wake up early tomorrow. And I knew that now I had this new, quiet willpower to make the right, if somewhat boring, decision.
The next two days passed in the same rhythm: warm-ups, working on the laptop, simple meals, and sleep. Only now, I clearly felt and understood the change inside me. Before, any thought of training or work had sparked internal resistance and a whole list of excuses. Now, with "Iron Discipline" in my mind, everything was different. It wasn't some magical surge of motivation. Rather, the nagging voice of laziness grew quieter, as if it had been strangled. My thoughts became clearer.
Instead of "Ugh, more stupid exercises, I'd rather sleep five more minutes," rational reasoning arose: "My muscles have almost recovered. Three sets of three push-ups is the optimal load for the morning. Do it, and you'll get stronger. Skip it, and you'll stay weak. The choice is obvious." And I did it. Without enthusiasm, but also without internal resistance. Simply because it was the right next step.
The pain in my ribs had almost faded, leaving only mild soreness with deep breaths. The bruises on my face had nearly disappeared, leaving only yellow-green shadows. My body no longer ached with every movement. I could even sleep normally, not jolting awake if I accidentally turned onto my side. Hell, I even started to feel my muscles when I did those push-ups—not just burning, but actual work. And that felt amazing.
Of course, after a couple of days of testing the feature, a simple and logical thought surfaced in my mind:
"If one Will Point gave this effect, what would two do? Three? Or even more?"
As they say, appetite comes with eating. And so, naturally, I wanted more. Real progression, not these baby steps.
So that morning, I put on my old worn-out sneakers and went outside. The plan was simple and idiotic: make it to the nearest park and start running laps. To run until I collapsed or the System took pity on me and granted me the precious Will Point.
Getting to the park wasn't difficult. A brisk walk and steady breathing. The park wasn't crowded: a couple of moms with strollers, an old man on a bench. I chose a long asphalt path, did a couple of stretching movements, and started running.
First lap. Second. My breath began to falter, a stitch in my side. By the fifth lap, I was gasping for air like a fish thrown onto shore. My legs felt like lead, my mouth was dry. Every step came with immense difficulty.
"That's enough. I can't do this," something inside me whined.
"No. One more lap. One more, I can do it," another part of my consciousness immediately countered.
And I ran. Sweat streamed into my eyes, my back was soaked. I no longer saw anything around me, only the asphalt ahead. The world had narrowed to the wheeze in my lungs and the heaviness in my legs. Another lap. And another. I was nearly falling, stumbling over my own feet, but my new feature kept me moving. One foot in front of the other.
I could feel I was approaching the limit. Just a little more, almost there—then I'd get my precious Will Point. I gathered my last strength for one final push…
And at that moment, the world "exploded" with a cacophony of sounds that cut through even my detached consciousness.
First, a deafening roar, as if a jet fighter had flown overhead. Then a dull thud that shook the ground.
I stopped, leaning on my knees, nearly coughing up my own lungs. From behind me, from the direction of the street, came the sound of breaking wood, shattering glass, and people shouting.
I turned around. Across the street, right in front of the park entrance, chaos unfolded. Bricks flew through the air, a car flipped onto its side, black smoke billowed from it. Something huge and green flashed by…
My brain, foggy from exhaustion and lack of oxygen, finally processed the diagnosis:
"Hulk. It's damn Hulk. And it's clearly not my level."
The survival instinct, louder than anything else, screamed:
"I need to get out of here as fast as possible!"
I tried to lunge forward, but my legs gave out. They trembled and gave way. My breath didn't steady; dark spots danced before my eyes from the strain. I could only limp forward, my legs moving like a sick turtle's.
The screams around me grew louder. People ran past me, shoving. Someone bumped into my shoulder, and I barely stayed on my feet. A piece of asphalt whistled past and struck a tree a few meters away. My heart pounded wildly, not just from running but from sheer, animal fear and adrenaline. I walked, turning my head, trying to keep track of all threats at once. My muscles burned like fire, but my new feature kept me from panicking and freezing. One thought kept circling in my mind:
"Move. Step by step. The danger is behind you. Keep going. Just a little further."
There was the park exit. Police and ambulance cars stood by the sidewalk. I let out a small sigh of relief, feeling a fleeting sense of safety. So it was safe here. Suddenly, a muted notification sound reached me, and alongside it, I noticed the faces of people in front of me. They were frozen in horror, pointing somewhere behind me.
I turned around. A car was flying straight at me, bouncing over potholes. My thoughts vanished. All that remained was terror and the full understanding that I was about to die. My legs felt rooted to the spot; I wouldn't have been able to move even if I wanted to.
"So this is it, Lyokha. This is how I die in the Marvel universe…"
And then a sharp sound, like jet engines, roared in my ears. Something red and gold shot between me and the car. A deafening impact, the screech of metal, and the car was thrown aside, landing on the ground with a crash—no longer a threat.
Iron Man. He was between me and the car, and for a second, he turned his head toward me, as if checking if I was okay, before he rocketed back into the chaos.
Another notification sound rang out, and there I stood, not moving, staring at the spot where I should have died. Tears streamed down my face; I hadn't even noticed when I started crying.
Police officers rushed toward me.
— Hey, kid, you okay? You whole?
One of them grabbed my elbow and guided me toward the ambulance. I could only nod at their questions, unable to speak a word.
They led me to the ambulance and sat me down on the rear trunk. A thermal blanket was draped over my shoulders—it was warm and pleasantly heavy. A tired-looking female paramedic in her forties quickly checked my pulse and shone a flashlight in my eyes.
— Shock, — she stated. — You need a sedative…
I nodded, not entirely sure if it was a question or an order. Something sweet and bitter was poured into my mouth. Then I was given a bottle of water—I took a few sips, and the water tasted incredibly good. My body began to relax, the tremors slowly subsided.
— Do you want us to take you to the hospital? — one of the medics offered.
Memories of insurance issues surfaced on their own.
— No… no, thank you. I… I'm better now. I'll go home.
They didn't argue. There was plenty of work besides me. It was time for me to pull myself together and clear out. From the street, I could already hear sirens and sharp commands instead of screams. Apparently, Hulk had been subdued.
Limping, I made my way home, holding onto walls, fences, and railings. Every muscle in my legs ached from the strain. I walked and mentally cursed this world, its superheroes and supervillains, for nearly getting me killed under the wheels of a flying car.
And then, almost at my apartment building, I suddenly remembered. The System. I had run to the very edge of my limits, and then there was that insane stress and the very real possibility of death…
I stopped by the entrance to my building, leaning against the dirty wall, and mentally whispered, almost like a prayer:
— Status.
The interface materialized. I immediately checked the Will Points line.
[Will Points: 2]
Two. A whole two points! So the System had counted both the extreme run and the subsequent events.
Despite the fatigue, the muscle pain, the shock I'd just endured, a ridiculously sincere smile spread across my face. I had done it. I had survived and earned my reward.
With this great mood, I limped into the building, and as the door to my apartment slammed shut behind me, I leaned against it, catching my breath. The silence and familiar smell of the apartment—after the street chaos—felt almost blissful. My body hummed, and every movement sent a wave of pain through my overworked leg muscles. The adrenaline had receded, leaving behind only weakness and a dull ache.
And only now did I realize how hungry I was. I stumbled to the kitchen corner, hastily filled the kettle with water, and set it to boil. While it hissed, I tore open a pack of the cheapest instant noodles, poured boiling water over them, and pressed down the lid. Making tea had become a familiar ritual. I sat on my single chair and started eating the ready meal, which slightly calmed the trembling inside and restored my sense of reality.
And as I ate, one single thought spun in my mind:
"That was Hulk and Iron Man! I survived their fight and earned two points. Two, damn it, Will Points. So… where do I spend them?"
First, I thought about "Iron Discipline," of course. It had already proven its worth. Level Two had to be even better, right? But I mentally checked myself. No. Not the time. Discipline was good, but today had made one thing clear: I could be the most disciplined guy in the world, but if, in a critical moment like today, sheer terror made my legs give out and I froze like a rabbit before a python, no amount of discipline would save me. I would have been smeared across the asphalt today. Iron Man saved me not because I was disciplined, but purely by chance.
The image of the car flying toward me flashed before my eyes again, making my fingers go numb. That animalistic, paralyzing fear… No, I couldn't let this happen again. I needed something that would let me act under pressure. That wouldn't let fear shut down my brain.
I mentally called up the interface and stared at the list of features.
"Nerve Rope—Raises innate pain threshold and the ability to maintain mental clarity under discomfort and stress."
Exactly what I needed! If I'd had this today, I wouldn't have frozen; I would have run. Maybe I wouldn't have made it, the odds were slim, but at least I would have tried! Instead of standing there like a post, waiting for the end.
Okay, the first point was clear. "Nerve Rope."
Second Will Point. That was trickier. I could save it for later. You never know what might happen tomorrow. Or I could invest it in something useful right now.
My gaze fell on "Structural Thinking." I had already considered this feature and seen the direct benefits. If I chose it, I could take on more complex gigs and complete them faster. And money—that meant food, the gym, the chance to move to a safer apartment in a decent neighborhood. It was the foundation for everything else. Without money, I'd die here in this slum before Thanos' snap even happened.
And for a start, these were quite optimal feature choices.
So my thoughts formed a clear chain. Fear was the immediate threat. "Nerve Rope" would handle that. Money was the foundation for survival and growth. "Structural Thinking" would take care of that. It all made sense. Perfectly logical.
Decision made. Two points. Two features.
I finished my tea, pushed the plate aside, and focused. Mentally, I highlighted the line "Nerve Rope" and spent one Will Point.
At first, nothing happened. Then… it was strange. I didn't feel a surge of courage or anything like that. Rather, the background noise faded. The constant, barely perceptible anxiety that had sat somewhere deep in my gut since the moment I woke up in this body suddenly quieted. It didn't disappear entirely, but it receded and dimmed. The nagging ache in my leg muscles grew quieter, as if someone had turned down the volume on my pain receptors. I took a deep breath and realized I could breathe fully, and the pain in my ribs was almost gone. The world hadn't changed, but my perception of it had become… calmer. More detached.
Now for the second one. "Structural Thinking." I dragged the second Will Point onto it.
Immediately, a pressure pulsed in my temples. Not painful, but like a light, pressing tension. Random thoughts flashed through my mind—about the wiring in the wall, how the door lock worked, the algorithm of the code I'd been working on. The thoughts came fast, fragmented, but each left behind a clear and distinct trail. Knowledge didn't come from nowhere, but what I had structured itself and fell into place. The world around me didn't become different, but it became… clearer. Just a little, but clearer. As if I'd been looking at a complex mechanism the whole time and suddenly saw the previously invisible gears and understood how they meshed and what they were for.
My head spun slightly from this sudden new sensation. I swallowed and stood up to clear the table. My movements were a little mechanical but surprisingly precise.
That was it. Both Will Points spent. Now I was a little less cowardly and a little smarter. It sounded like a dubious achievement, but for this world and for now, it was exactly what I needed.
Exhaustion hit me as soon as I finished the dishes. Today had completely worn me out. First, that extreme run, then the encounter with Hulk, the flying car, Iron Man… And then this internal upgrade. I'd had enough.
So I took a shower, refreshing and relaxing, and then simply collapsed onto my mattress, pulled the blanket over me, and passed out almost instantly. The last thing I felt was a light, pressing weight in my temples and an unfamiliar silence inside me—where fear and pain had always sat before.