Reality Quest: Lookism

Damn.. we surpassed 500 stones in two hours 💀.

Next: 650

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The series of battles had left my body battered, my clothes shredded, and my mind sharper than ever. The arena had become my battlefield, one fight after another, each testing my will to survive and adapt.

I sat there, taking slow, controlled breaths, as my deformed arms and battered body began to heal once again. The system always made sure I was fully recovered after every fight, almost like it enjoyed seeing me break myself repeatedly to overcome these challenges.

Each fight had been brutal in its own way. The first clone wielded Multi-Strike Destruction, a flurry of rapid punches that left no room for error. Every time I blocked, my arms ached from the relentless force, and when I dodged, his fists seemed to follow like heat-seeking missiles. I'd had to endure countless broken ribs and bloodied knuckles before I finally learned the rhythm of the strikes.

It wasn't just about raw speed, it was the precision and timing. By that time, the system flashed:

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[Skill Acquired: Multi-Strike Destruction]

---

I was barely standing, my arms trembling from overuse. But the satisfaction of landing my own perfectly executed Multi-Strike Destruction on the clone and watching him disintegrate into particles was worth every second of pain.

Then came the second clone, armed with Falcon Drop. I scoffed at first, how hard could it be to deal with a glorified jumping kick? That arrogance almost cost me my life. The clone's precision was otherworldly, and his timing was impeccable.

He seemed to hang in the air for just a second too long, baiting me into thinking I had an opening, only to come crashing down with devastating force. I couldn't count how many times I was knocked to the ground, my ribs cracking with each impact.

The trick wasn't just to dodge but to predict. I had to read the angle of his leap, the trajectory of his descent, and the faint flicker in his eyes that told me when he would strike. By the time I managed to land a Falcon Drop of my own, sending the clone hurtling into the ground with enough force to crack the arena floor, I was ready to pass out again.

---

[Skill Acquired: Falcon Drop]

---

The third clone was even worse. Stun Smash wasn't flashy, but it was devastating. Every blow from him felt like being hit with a sledgehammer, each impact designed to stagger and disorient me. The skill was built for follow-ups, and the clone used it masterfully, chaining it into relentless combos that left me barely able to stand. It wasn't until I realized the importance of timing that I could turn the tide.

The skill activated when the opponent was falling or off-balance. Once I figured that out, it was all about precision. The moment I landed my first successful Stun Smash, driving the clone into the ground with a resounding crash, I felt a surge of pride despite the blood trickling down my face.

---

[Skill Acquired: Stun Smash]

---

But the fourth clone was different. Brazilian Kick wasn't just about raw power or precision, it was about flexibility and flow. The way the clone executed the kicks was almost like watching an artist paint, each strike fluid and unpredictable. The arc of the kick, the deceptive feint before the real strike, it was maddeningly difficult to counter.

By this point, my body was already pushed to its limits, but I wasn't going to back down. The first time I managed to replicate the skill, my leg whipped around in a perfect arc, connecting with the side of the clone's head. The sound of the impact echoed through the arena as the clone crumbled, and I stood there, panting heavily, as the system acknowledged my effort.

---

[Skill Acquired: Brazilian Kick]

---

As the last clone disintegrated into particles, I dropped to the ground, sitting back as my arms hung limply by my sides. My body was a mess of bruises, blood, and torn muscles. I glanced down at my hands, knuckles raw and swollen, fingers twitching from exhaustion. The arena floor was stained with my blood, a testament to how far I'd come.

The system chimed, its cold, detached voice cutting through the silence.

---

[Congratulations. You have successfully defeated all clones with active skills.]

[All acquired skills have been synchronized.]

[Healing Initiated.]

---

A familiar warmth enveloped me, soothing my aching body and knitting my broken bones back together. The pain faded as my deformed arms returned to their proper shape, and my breathing steadied. Within moments, I was as good as new, but the memories of the battles lingered like ghosts in my mind.

I leaned back, staring at the endless expanse of the arena's sky. "That was hell." I muttered, shaking my head. "But I did it."

The system interrupted my thoughts with another announcement.

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[Final Trial Initiating.]

[Apex Clone Summoned.]

[Restrictions: No active skills may be used during this trial.]

[Passive skills available: Critical Hit, Weapon Mastery.]

---

Before I could fully process the announcement, the arena shifted. The ground rumbled beneath me, and a massive row of weapons appeared in front of me, stretching as far as the eye could see. Every type of weapon imaginable was there, swords, spears, axes, daggers, even firearms.

I walked forward, my fingers brushing over the weapons as I took them in. Most of them were pristine, their polished surfaces gleaming under the faint light. But one weapon caught my eye, a katana with a black and blue handle, its blade sleek and deadly. The scabbard matched its design, simple yet elegant.

{A/N: I don't care that it's cliche, i love katanas, obviously Jin will not only use this weapon against future enemies, but for this first time..}

I picked it up, testing its weight in my hands. It felt perfect, like it was made for me. I slid the blade from its scabbard, admiring the way it gleamed darkly in the light.

The sound of footsteps drew my attention. I turned to see the final clone emerging from the shadows. This one was different, more imposing. He radiated a calm yet terrifying aura, his movements slow and deliberate. He carried a katana of his own, its blade almost identical to mine.

"So, it's you and me now." I muttered, gripping my weapon tightly. I could feel the tension in the air, the weight of the trial bearing down on me.

The clone tilted his head slightly, his gaze piercing. There was no hesitation, no wasted movement as he raised his blade.

I took a deep breath, calming my nerves. No active skills, I reminded myself. This fight would test my fundamentals, my raw strength, speed, and technique. But with Critical Hit and Weapon Mastery at my disposal, I had an edge. At least, I hoped I did.

The clone dashed forward, closing the distance between us in an instant. I raised my katana, ready to face the final trial head-on.

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1156 words.

Patreon: Mr_Graythorn