Athanasia: My Hacker System-Chapter 22: Fighting with All the Abilities John Has!

John stood like a statue, his feet planted firmly on the cold arena floor as he locked eyes with Ricky. The atmosphere in the sparring hall had shifted; the air felt missing a spark to explode, charged with a heavy tension.

In the background, he could hear the frantic shuffling of students clearing away the blood Luke had left behind, a grim reminder of the stakes. He could feel the burning, predatory gaze of Cissel digging into his back. But in this moment, none of that mattered.

Standing this close to Ricky—well within the focused range of his [Frame Recognition]—John was finally able to conduct a true audit of the boy’s internal structure.

’I see you now,’ John thought, his vision filtering through the structure of normal codes, focusing on the special ones. ’There are sixteen in total. Eleven special codes... And five showing peculiar, erratic movement patterns, different from the rest.’

"Fight at will!" Nikolas’s voice boomed, thick with an excitement he didn’t even bother to mask. "I expect something truly interesting from the two of you! Do not disappoint me!"

"I won’t!"

Ricky was the first to move. He didn’t just step forward; he exploded. In John’s vision, he saw eleven of the special codes hum in a unified, synchronised rhythm. The youth moved with staggering speed, a blur of motion to the average eye. However, to John—who had danced with the lightning-fast Cissel—it wasn’t quite enough to overwhelm him.

’I can keep up with this!’ As Ricky closed the gap with a lunge, John pivoted. He moved with a fluid grace, widening the distance between them with ease. ’I’m not one of those half-assed losers you’ve been training with, Ricky. You’re going to have to work harder for this fight.’

But just as the thought crossed his mind, the five weird codes began to hum. They didn’t just hum; they surged, shining with a stark, violent white light that eclipsed every other code in Ricky’s body. John’s heart skipped a beat. He knew a strong move was coming, but the reality of it defied every logic in his mind.

From each of the five nodes, a thin, impossibly long filament began to extend.

It looked like a strand of white hair growing at an accelerated rate from a follicle embedded deep within the codes. Yet, these weren’t hair. These filaments were alive. They snaked out through Ricky’s body, growing and twisting in the air with a mind of their own, defying gravity and the laws of physics.

In the blink of an eye, Ricky was surrounded by five long, pale whips that writhed in the air like the tentacles of a deep-sea nightmare. The codes giving birth to them pulsed with a sinister, rhythmic throb.

’What the heck is this sorcery?!’ A cold dread bloomed in John’s heart. He retreated instinctively, his eyes tracking the movements of the twisting filaments. ’Let’s see if you can make those things move faster than your own body, you freak!’

The fight evolved into a high-speed game of cat and mouse. The two students began a lethal dance around the arena, Ricky trying his desperate best to snare John within the reach of his tentacles, while John consistently slipped away by the fraction of a breath. It was a contest of pure agility, a frantic rhythm of lunges and parries that left the rest of the class breathless.

But after a few minutes of circling, John’s frustration began to mount. He wasn’t getting the information he needed to complete his quest this way. He could see the filaments, but he didn’t understand their function. As the system Quest’s name had reminded him, he was here to dig deeper.

’There’s no gain without pain,’ John thought, a grim resolve settling over him. ’Screw it.’

He deliberately adjusted his timing. He moved a fraction slower than necessary, allowing just one of those writhing white filaments to graze across his arm.

The result was instantaneous and agonising.

"Agh! What was that?!" John’s voice cracked in a sharp exclamation of pain as he tore himself away, retreating to the far edge of the fighting space.

The spot where the filament had touched him was no longer intact... It was an open, gruesome-looking wound, as if a white-hot wire had been dragged through his flesh. Because he had pulled away so quickly, the wound wasn’t deep enough to hit bone, but the damage was more than just physical.

As he clutched his arm, a cascade of golden notifications flooded his vision, the sheer number of them momentarily blocking out the world.

[Ding! You have been exposed to A suction force!]

[Ding! Your stats have lost 1 point each!]

[Ding! Your Mental Points lost 50!]

[Ding! Your strength stat is lower than your enemy!]

[Ding! Your Mental Point cap is over your enemy!]

[Ding! Your defence stat is lower than your enemy!]

[Ding! Your speed stat is higher than your enemy!]

[Ding! Your Int stat is higher than your enemy!]

[Ding! Your loss is cut by 50%!]

[Ding! You lost 1 point from Str and Defence stats!]

[Ding! You lost 25 Mental Points!]

’Damn! He’s way worse than that vampire girl!’ John’s mind screamed in shock.

It wasn’t just the loss of 25 Mental Points—it was the theft of his hard-earned stats. Ricky was literally stripping away John’s ability to fight with every touch of those filaments. The realisation that his Strength and Defence had been shaved down sent a jolt of panic through him.

But just as the weight of the loss threatened to overwhelm his focus, two more notifications flared to life at the bottom of the list, glowing with a soft, soothing light that cut through the pain of the stolen stats and Mental Points.

[Ding! Congratulations! You completed Quest Dig Deeper, part 2 of the serialised Quest!]

[Ding! Once you are battle-free, you’ll receive your rewards!]

’That motherfucker!’ John’s mind was a chaotic storm of calculations and worry. He stared at his arm, the wound was broken codes in his arm structure, as if they were crushed by an unstoppable force. ’If I get hit with all five of those filaments at once, or if I let him graze me a few more times, will my stats and Mental Points bottom out? Will I be drained into a permanent Burnout State?’

Part of him was electrified with the thrill of discovery. He had finally pierced the veil; he had unveiled the long-awaited mystery surrounding Ricky. He had fulfilled the goal of his quest, but the realisation of what he was actually facing was sobering. Ricky wasn’t just a rival; he was a catastrophe. In every measurable way, this youth was more dangerous than Cissel.

’Screw it!’ John had what he came for. He had seen the white hair filaments, learnt the effect of Ricky’s special ability, felt the drain, and completed the quest. There was no reason to continue this suicide mission. He instantly raised a hand, his voice clear and sharp in the sudden quiet of the arena.

"I forfeit!"

He waited for Nikolas to step in, to call the match and offer the same protective intervention he had provided once before during the last competition against Cissel. But the teacher didn’t move. Instead, Nikolas let out a low, mocking snort that echoed through the hall.

"Not this time, John Mirage," the teacher said, his eyes narrowing with a fierce glint of his own. "I asked for a spectacular fight, and all you’ve given me so far is the sight of a mouse scurrying around a maze. Man up, boy. This is the Military Department, not a daycare. I demanded something interesting, and you haven’t delivered any yet!"

’Fck you!’ John felt the bile rise in his throat. He had been tricked—scammed by the very man he called his lucky charm. Nikolas wasn’t there to protect him; he was there to squeeze him. The teacher was adamant about seeing John’s hidden power, even if it meant letting Ricky shred him to pieces.

But as the realisation of his abandonment settled in, John’s panic began to solidify into a cold, hard resolve. ’If there’s no way out using words, then there’s only one way using force.’

He performed a rapid mental check of his arsenal. The Wireframe Sight was off the table; it was a scout’s tool, useless in the high-speed, close-quarters combats. That left him with only two active abilities. He had never tested them in a fight before, and he was intensely curious to see if his absorption ability could counter Ricky’s suction.

’First things first, I need to keep my distance,’ John calmly thought. Ricky was constantly shifting the filaments and their codes, their movements erratic and without a fixed pattern.

They lashed out like whips, seeking any opening in John’s guard. However, Ricky had one glaring weakness that John could exploit: his speed. While the filaments were fast, Ricky’s actual body was sluggish compared to John’s higher speed stat.

"There is no way out for you this time," Ricky said, a vicious smile splitting his face as he realised the teacher wasn’t going to interfere. He began to stalk forward, the five white filaments twisting around him like a halo of snakes. "Let me send you to the infirmary to join your beloved buddy. Luke is waiting for you in the next bed, loser!"

"We’ll see who the real loser is," John bellowed back.

As those words left his lips, the last traces of John’s hesitation evaporated. The worry, the fear, and the caution were incinerated by a sudden, white-hot surge of rage. The look in his eyes changed—shifting from the panicked gaze of a cornered animal to the cold, focused stare of a hunter.

From the sidelines, Nikolas heaved an inner sigh of relief. ’Show me your mettle, boy,’ the teacher thought, his pulse quickening. ’I knew my eyes hadn’t picked a failure, much less a loser. You can try to mask yourself as a cute kitty all you want, but the sons of lions can never be house pets, no matter how hard they try.’

Nikolas was so gripped by the potential of the next few minutes that he stood on the tips of his toes, reaching into his pocket to retrieve a small, black recording cube. He wasn’t going to miss a single frame of this.

John moved. He didn’t attack blindly; he began with a probing attack. He needed to know the limits of Ricky’s Suction Force. Was it a passive ability that covered his entire body, or was it localised strictly to those five glowing, specialised codes?

He surged forward, feinting a high strike to draw the filaments away, then pivoted and delivered a lightning-fast jab to Ricky’s shoulder.

Thud!

"That hurts like a girl’s punch, ouch!" Ricky laughed, mocking the lack of power behind the strike, while feigning getting hurt in an acting way!

John didn’t care about the insult. He had withheld the strength behind the punch intentionally, ready to withdraw the moment he sensed a drain. He watched the air in front of him with bated breath. No warning... No stat loss... No siphoned Mental Points. The revelation was like a shot of adrenaline.

[Ding! You have uncovered an extra detail about Ricky’s ability!]

[Ding! Ricky’s Suction Force is localised to the special five codes with filaments. Physical contact with the rest of his body is currently safe!]

[Ding! Your overall reward assessment has been elevated!]

John let out a short, sharp chuckle. The puzzle was coming together.

"What are you laughing at, loser?" Ricky growled. He took John’s sudden smile as a personal affront, his filaments lashing out with renewed fury. "Let me see you keep smiling when I’m done with you!"

Ricky lunged, swinging a heavy fist while two of the filaments snaked around from the side to trap John’s exit path.

Bang!

This time, Ricky’s insults were cut short by a sound that echoed through the sparring hall like a bolt of lightning.

John’s fist connected with Ricky’s chest with a force that forced Ricky’s body back several steps, his heels skidding across the reinforced floor. John didn’t press the advantage immediately; instead, he bounced lightly from one leg to another, his movements rhythmic and cocky, as if he were finally starting to enjoy the dance.

"What were you saying?" John mocked, a sharp, cold edge to his voice. He raised a hand, curling his fingers in a slow, deliberate ’come-hither’ gesture. "Speak up, little Ricky! Hit like a man, or you are all bark, no bite?"

"I’m going to kill you!" Ricky’s face contorted, his skin swelling and turning a deep, angry crimson. The humiliation was a poison in his veins.

With a guttural roar, he lunged at John, his five filaments lashing out like a nest of disturbed vipers. He wanted to shred John, to drain him until he was nothing but an empty husk on the floor. But against all his desperate expectations, John was gone before the filaments could even land a single hit.

Every time Ricky swung, every time he tried to ensnare his foe, John was half a beat ahead. He moved with a predictive grace, evading the lethal white strands at the exact moment necessary to leave Ricky swinging at shadows.

And every time Ricky missed, a counter-blow arrived.

’Thud.’

’Crack.’

’Thud.’

John hammered into Ricky’s ribs, his shoulders, and his gut. Yet, even as he landed a barrage of clean hits, John’s internal alarm began to chime.

’Something is wrong,’ he thought, his knuckles beginning to ache. ’Every time I land a punch, it feels like I’m striking a reinforced cement wall with my bare hands. Dammit, Ricky, your defence stats must be significantly higher than my current strength stat.’

He knew he was winning the battle of momentum—he was breaking Ricky’s rhythm and making him look like a fool—but he wasn’t delivering any real, lasting damage. If he couldn’t find a way to break through that defence, Ricky would eventually catch a lucky break. One touch of those filaments would reset the entire fight in the bully’s favour.

’Time to test the new toy, then... [MP Absorption Ability]... It’s time for you to shine, baby!’

John didn’t feel a physical change. According to the ability’s description, he needed sustained physical contact to maximise the drain. Punches were too fast; he needed to hold on to Ricky’s body for a bit longer than flashy hits.

This time, when Ricky swung a heavy right hook, John didn’t just dodge. He stepped inside the guard, his hands snaking out to grab Ricky’s collar and belt. He felt the filaments whip past his ears, centimetres from his skin. With a grunt of effort, he didn’t just push—he gripped tight for a full second before slamming Ricky away with a powerful heave.

It was a risk, exposing his back to the white whips, but as Ricky tumbled backward like a useless bag of laundry, John instantly jumped away, retreating from any potential touch with the filaments. His eyes darted to the notifications scrolling in the air.

[Ding! You have successfully absorbed 2 Mental Points!]

[Ding! You have successfully absorbed 1 Mental Point!]

’That’s what I’m talking about!’ John suppressed the urge to laugh out loud. He began to move with a renewed vigour, adopting a fluid, grappling-based fighting style. Ricky scrambled to his feet, fuming with a rage so intense his eyes seemed to glow with a dangerous light.

"I swear, this will be your last day in this academy!" Ricky’s voice was a rasp of pure hatred.

John didn’t even flinch. If anything, the threat only widened the mocking smile on his face. He motioned with one hand, a casual, insulting invitation. "Come to papa, Ricky."

The fire in Ricky’s eyes flared even brighter as he charged again, but the result was a repetitive cycle of failure. No matter how Ricky twisted his filaments or varied his strikes, John was always a step ahead. And for every failed strike Ricky threw, John returned the favour with a slap to the cheek, a sharp pinch to the neck, or a lingering grab to the arm.

The notifications began to stack up like a jackpot at a casino.

[Ding! You have successfully absorbed 3 Mental Points!]

[Ding! You have successfully absorbed 1 Mental Point!]

[Ding! You have successfully absorbed 1 Mental Point!]

[Ding! You have successfully absorbed 2 Mental Points!]

’Damn! I should have tried this from the very beginning!’ John’s heart was practically dancing. Seeing the long rows of gained points made him realise he had found the ultimate equilibrium. At this moment, he didn’t fear Ricky’s filaments. He didn’t even fear Cissel’s unique vampiric drain.

He finally had the perfect counter—an ability that allowed him to sustain himself indefinitely by stealing the very fuel he needed to fight his enemies. He wasn’t just fighting one opponent; he felt as though he could take on the entire class.

After five minutes of toy-like play, John decided it was time to shift gears. He had reaped enough Mental Points to know he filled his entire cap, and the repetition was starting to lose its lustre in his eyes. He wanted to see how deep the rabbit hole went, how far his ability could take him in an intense fight.

"This won’t do," John suddenly said, his voice loud enough for the entire class to hear. He stepped back, giving the panting, exhausted Ricky some space. "You’re starting to bore me, little Ricky. Why don’t we add something extra? Something a bit more... Juicy... To our little match?"

He didn’t look at the teacher. He didn’t look at the crowd. His eyes moved across the class, locking onto a single target: Cissel.

She was standing at the edge of the circle, her arms crossed, watching the fight with a cold, penetrating gaze. When John’s eyes landed on her, she slowly raised one eyebrow, her expression shifting into one of sharp curiosity. The provocation was clear, and the entire room held its breath as they realized John wasn’t just looking for a win—he was looking for the impossible.