Lord Of The Lost

William had paid a hefty price of one gold coin to learn this skill, and naturally, he took it very seriously. After all, mastering it would significantly boost his combat power, and he wasn't about to squander the opportunity.

With limited game time each day, William knew he couldn't afford to waste any of it practicing combat skills in the virtual world. The magic world was vast, filled with monsters to slay, levels to gain, and mysteries to uncover. Time was better spent leveling up, exploring new terrains, and unlocking secrets, rather than honing his technique in isolation.

The real world, boring as it was, became his practice ground.

"Focus on one thing and perfect it," he muttered to himself as he prepared to test his new skill. Without a target to strike, he swung the spear through the air. Despite being a simple, straight thrust, the force of the blow was so immense that it split the air with a thunderous crack, reminiscent of an old man snapping a whip by the riverbank.

The power behind the strike was staggering. Though it was just a practice jab, it was enough to give William pause. He glanced around the room, eyeing the fragile furniture and decorations in his living room. After a moment's thought, he carefully set the fine iron spear aside. It would be unwise to practice here; one misplaced strike, and he could end up shattering something.

Cleaning up would be a nightmare, and besides, the damage this technique could cause was alarming.

Of course, such power came with a price. This combat skill drained a massive amount of energy. For someone with a weaker constitution, attempting it could be dangerous, leading to self-injury or worse. Even for a young man like William, a single use was taxing, and pushing himself further could do serious harm.

Opening his attribute panel, he could already feel the weakness creeping into his body after just one practice strike. His physical stats had taken a hit, nothing too severe, but enough to remind him of the cost. He estimated that if he were at full strength, he might manage ten or so strikes before his attributes dipped into the danger zone.

The skill drained not only physical strength but also mental energy and focus.

Thanks to the skill bar, the learning curve wasn't too steep. William managed to execute the technique smoothly, following the steps methodically. But even so, he wasn't fully satisfied. The biggest flaw, in his eyes, was the long wind-up time. It took about five seconds to charge up the skill, a significant delay on a chaotic battlefield.

Sure, the force behind the attack was undeniable, but that five-second charge could be a death sentence in fast-moving combat, where timing was everything.

"One tiny interruption and I'm done for," William grumbled to himself.

And to top it all off, not even a single point of skill proficiency gained! He sighed in frustration. This game was punishingly difficult. Proficiency would have allowed him to refine the skill further, to truly master it. But for now, the skill bar merely ensured that he could use the ability; there was no promise that he could unleash its full potential.

Mastering and integrating the details was always up to the user, and William knew that well. However, when he executed the [Piercing Attack], he couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. The strike had felt sluggish, unfocused. The power seemed to dissipate, scattering instead of converging into the deadly blow it was supposed to be.

"Does this make me a beginner at best?" William muttered, lost in thought.

He had a foundation in basic spear techniques, nothing extraordinary but it was certainly better than the average person's skill level. Even with that edge, though, the result of his attack left much to be desired. The performance was far from impressive, and frustration began to bubble up inside him.

"This technique must have more to it... something I'm missing," he reasoned. His thoughts wandered as he descended the stairs of his apartment, choosing to bypass the local breakfast stall. Instead, he made a beeline for the Burger King next door, indulging his craving with a family-sized bucket of fried chicken burgers, meant for five.

As if that weren't enough, he swung by the supermarket and grabbed a large bag of chocolate and several bottles of cola.

Bags of fast food in hand, William returned home, still pondering the shortcomings of his technique as he wolfed down one burger after another. He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he barely noticed he had finished all five servings. His energy levels were still depleted, and his high metabolism made short work of the food.

Without hesitation, he tore into the chocolate, ripping the packaging with his teeth and swallowing chunks of sweetness almost immediately. But his mind wasn't on the food; it was on the [Piercing Attack]. Could there be a deeper layer he hadn't yet grasped?

William grabbed a pair of chopsticks, twirling them between his fingers like someone spinning a pen. He needed to get a feel for the weight, the balance, the control. After a few spins, he stopped abruptly and closed his eyes, holding the chopsticks as though they were a brush ready to paint a masterpiece.

The room was still for a few moments. Then, with sudden precision, William's eyes shot open, and he thrust the chopsticks downward with the same intensity he'd used for the spear.

Puff!

The chopsticks pierced the dining table effortlessly, standing upright like a candle, embedded halfway into the wood. William blinked, both surprised and intrigued. He reached to pull them out, but only half of the chopstick came free. It had broken.

Examining the broken piece, he noticed the fracture wasn't clean. It wasn't snapped from sheer force; instead, it seemed jagged, as though something had caused it to expand and burst from the inside.

"Is it possible that such a fragile object can't handle that kind of force all at once?" William mused aloud. The thought intrigued him. The chopstick had shattered because it couldn't withstand the pressure, much like how his [Piercing Attack] failed to achieve full power. Could it be that his technique was too powerful for the carrier or perhaps, not yet honed to perfection?

He realized that his practice hadn't been enough. This fighting skill shouldn't be confined to its most basic form; it needed to be fluid, adaptable. Mastering the technique in all its variations could make it applicable in many situations, and understanding it thoroughly would yield immense benefits.

His natural understanding and insight were sharp, something enhanced by the unique fusion of two souls within him. This wasn't just reflected in his spiritual strength; it gave him an edge in seeing the subtleties others might miss. If he could unlock the full potential of the [Piercing Attack], there would be no limit to what he could achieve.

At this moment, William's thoughts drifted to the other players. It was only a matter of time before they too would reach higher levels and begin unlocking the same professional skills he had been exposed to. With each level-up, their attributes; strength, speed, agility, would grow significantly. Yet, even with these enhancements, they would still be bound by the limitations of being human.

They would be stronger, faster, perhaps able to leap higher, but in the grand scheme of things, they were still fragile within the modern social structure. No matter how much power they gained in the game, they were still players, outsiders to this world, unlike the native inhabitants.

The pull of reality was undeniable, like gravity, it would drag down anyone foolish enough to think they could defy it.

For William, the smartest strategy was to keep a low profile. There was no sense in flaunting power. Even if he had the strength to take on someone like Mike Tyson with his bare hands, or could wipe out an entire family with ease, what would be the point? Such actions would only draw unwanted attention, pushing him dangerously close to the edge of society's acceptance.

He had learned early on that it was better to avoid trouble altogether. When necessary, he used intimidation as a tool, like the time he mimicked the wild, unhinged "mad dog fist" of Teacher Chen to ward off anyone who had ill intentions toward him. It was a show of controlled violence that sent a clear message: don't mess with me.

While William wasn't someone who enjoyed violence, he understood its necessity. Sometimes, it was the only way to protect what was rightfully yours.

So far, this strategy had worked. No one had dared to confront him directly, not after the way he made his point. His past experiences had taught him the harsh realities of the world. In his previous life, he had lived at the bottom rung of society, surrounded by injustice and human cruelty.

His world was filled with hardship and suffering, and he had grown up witnessing the worst that humanity had to offer.

William had long given up on praying or seeking help from others. He believed in relying only on his own two hands. Yet, he also knew that effort did not always equal reward. Life was a system of exploitation and oppression. Like a tiny cog in a massive machine, the system continued to function, but only a select few truly benefited from its existence.

For someone like him, disappointment with society was inevitable.

However, even with all his disillusionment, William wasn't the type to break the rules. As long as there was a way to survive, he would stay within the boundaries set by society. He didn't see vengeance against the world as a fulfilling path; it wasn't the answer for him. The temptation to rebel against the system wasn't strong enough to drive him over the edge.

But the real issue was whether other beta testers would see things the same way. William couldn't be sure. Perhaps not all of them shared his restraint. Not every player was seeking revenge on society, but many would be enticed by the promises of fame, fortune, power, and influence. Material temptations could be far more seductive than simple vengeance.

For now, it was fine, most players were still in the development stage, learning the game, gaining strength. They were lying low, biding their time. But what would happen when these beta testers acquired even more power? Could they truly suppress their ambition once they had mastered the kinds of abilities William had already tasted?

William knew the answer wasn't simple. In the world of Magic Century, gods and devils were real. Power, once obtained, had a way of changing people. Would the beta testers be able to resist that transformation? Or would they give in, driven by their own desires for dominance, recognition, or material gain?

As William pondered these questions, he couldn't help but feel a deep sense of unease. The future was uncertain, and the balance between power and restraint was a delicate one. All it would take was one player breaking the unspoken code, and the world as they knew it could be thrown into chaos.