If this is a dream, then why…? He thought.
[ANSWER: The [Dreamer System] fully awakens your ability to enter your dreamscape and shape it to your benefit. In order to maximize your potential output, pain is necessary.]
"...What the hell are you talking about? How is this to my benefit?!" He yelled out, holding his nose.
This time, he didn't receive an answer, instead being forced on the backfoot as Maverick rushed towards him, unleashing a series of blows in his direction that came with ferocious speed. Though the barrage of blows felt more aggressive and swift than what he experienced before against Maverick, prompting him to vanish away as one came square towards his cheek.
[Blink–]
Nothing. He didn't vanish nor find himself free from the path of that gauntlet-clad fist before it slammed into his cheek harshly.
It was utterly perplexing to him; something like blinking away was as natural as breathing to him by this point, but for nothing to happen was simply inexplicable.
Still, such confusion was the least of his concern as the pain throbbed in his cheek.
I…didn't dodge? I know I did–but, nothing happened? He questioned.
As he held his cheek, it was burning hot from the impact, though he had little time to worry about what had happened as Maverick was closing in again.
There was something clearly off within him; as he attempted to blink again, nothing happened as he was now left like a deer in headlights as that fist closed in on his chin.
He's so fast…! He thought.
It wasn't just that; the aggression presented by the boxer, who should by all means be dead and not in front of his eyes, was like a tide; closing in and looming over him.
As he was forced only to move with his body as his blink didn't work, he found himself having to fully focus on the incoming jabs and haymakers sailing in his direction. Though that wasn't quite enough as he couldn't keep it up forever–
SLAM.
Straight into his gut, that massive gauntlet worn by Maverick King sunk into him, sinking in a riptide of raw strength that was felt in the deepest core of his soul.
"Gyuh…!" He spit out the breath from his lungs, coughing up saliva onto the floor.
He keeled over from the pain, falling onto his knees as he hugged himself, holding his stomach as it felt as if a flame had ignited from within his bowels.
It hurts. It burns, he thought.
"Have you realized it yet?" Maverick asked, looking down at him, "In this arena, there's no magic spells to be flung around; no fireballs, no hopping through the shadows…It's just you and your fists–against me."
…No spells? He thought.
As he brought his gaze up, he was awarded no time for leisure as the tall, champion-class boxer was already launching another ruthless attack, sending those metal-clad knuckles straight towards his face.
It was an unexpected amount of speed that came behind that fist, causing it to land perfectly with a colossal blow, sending him flying back before sliding across the floor.
What's with this…? My "Dreamer System"...how is this beneficial?! He questioned.
He realized it as he looked down at his hand, catching the fountain of crimson liquid that seeped from his shattered nose: it wasn't just spells that didn't work.
I tried activating right then…usually my Sage System will heighten my reflexes and perception before an attack comes, but…nothing happened. I've got nothing but my own constitution and proficiencies right now, he realized.
There was still a lot of unknown surrounding the situation he found himself in, but at the very least, he realized he had to fight, and make do without the skills he'd come to rely on as if an extra limb.
"Raise those hands!" Maverick shouted, closing in on him again.
He did just that, though more out of instinctual movement from the massive, energetic man hurling towards him with weaponized hands.
It was a straight-right, slamming against his forearms with a tremendous force; though he was guarding, it still felt as if a train had just ran through him, knocking his back to the wall as his breath was squeezed from his lungs.
Even when blocking…?! He questioned.
While he held his guard up like a lifeline, Maverick continued throwing heavy blows against his arms.
"You know, you're the same level I was at before you took me out," Maverick said, still throwing punches, "--Take all those fancy abilities away, and we've got a heavyweight versus a lightweight now! Word of advice: when it comes to weight classes that different, don't try and endure my blows!"
"I…already know that!" He responded through his teeth.
"Then stop sitting there and letting me bully ya'--not that I don't enjoy it!" Maverick laughed.
ραпdα nᴏνɐ| сom Just as a massive hit soared in his direction, he found his opponent as he ducked beneath the man's long, railgun-like appendage, sliding by him.
As he had his opponent's back to him now, he took the offense for the first time, aiming a "Fa-Jin" straight for the man's liver as he honed in with utmost speed.
If there was one thing relieving at least, in this dreamscape turned nightmare, his proficiencies were still available, granting him his martial arts abilities.
Still–even that didn't make up the mountain of difference between the two.
"--!"
Before his fist could reach Maverick's body, the silver-haired boxer spun around into a powerful kick, repelling his attempted attack.
…He's so quick, even with that huge frame! Was he this fast when I fought him before?...No, it makes sense, he thought, take away skills…and this guy is a champion-level athlete. What am I? A chef? Well, that's being generous!
Again, the offense was seized by Maverick, who stayed within his personal space, continuing to send jabs his way as most of them broke through any guard he put up, repeatedly bashing his nose, cheeks, and lips as blood poured out.
It seemed as though an hour had passed of this seemingly insurmountable battle, trapped within his own dreamscape as he continued being pushed back by the frivolous boxer.
I know I didn't do him right, but he's definitely holding a grudge in those blows…! He thought.
As one of those bullet-like jabs came his way–he saw it. For the first time, he perceived its speed and motion, watching as it came and allowing the synapses in his brain to fire off, signaling his body to react just in time to weave through the blow.
"--!" Maverick's eyes widened in surprise at this development as well.
Out of the martial arts styles he'd taken to in his training, the one that came naturally when seizing this opportunity was–
A flicker jab, moving swiftly like the wings of a fly; he launched it towards Maverick's chin, though it managed to be stopped as the boxer lifted one of his gauntlets to defend against it.
"Not bad," Maverick said with a surprised smirk.
[Martial Arts Proficiency: Boxing: +1 | 3/9999]
Huh? He thought.
It was a surprise, for sure: seeing the System prompt signaling the increase in proficiency was almost unbelievable, considering that he sat in a space completely set within his own mind.
"I'm in a dream, right?" He asked.
Maverick raised an eyebrow at him, "Seriously? You're still wondering about that? You're watching a dead man whoop your ass from one corner to the next and still thinking this is reality?"
"--" He looked down.
So, it is truly a dream, then? He thought.
[ANSWER: You're currently experiencing a dream, yes.]
It was difficult to discern it from reality; the air was brisk, stagnant from the enclosed, illustrious walls of gray and quartz.
Just then, he began to understand the true nature of the "Dreamer System" and why he was faced off against a foe from the past:
"Internal Leveling," that was the term he'd pointed towards the phenomena he'd just come to realize.
I can raise my proficiencies within the safety of my own dreams. While the pain still feels real, and well…it all sort of does, something like this…It's invaluable, he thought.
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