Chapter 169: A New Power?
The strange, neutral yet slightly sharp alcoholic smell hit Max’s nose, causing his eyes to flutter open. Above him was a white ceiling, one he recognized all too well, one he had seen not too long ago. And now, it was appearing before him once again.
A dull ache throbbed in his hand, pulling him further from the fog of unconsciousness. Along with it came a heavy wave of grogginess that clouded his mind. Blinking through the haze, Max slowly lifted his arm to inspect it. There, piercing into the skin of his forehand, was a needle connected to a thin tube. His gaze followed the line up to an IV bag hanging nearby, its contents slowly dripping down.
"I’ve ended up here again?" Max thought grimly. "It makes me wonder... am I in a new body again?"
A faint chuckle stirred in the back of his throat. "Maybe that’s what my power will end up being, just hopping from one body to the next."
Yet even through the disorientation, Max could tell, this time, he was still in the same body. The same Max’s body. Relief washed over him in an instant, though it was dulled by the overall state he found himself in. His body felt worse than it ever had, aching, drained, as if it had been pushed far beyond its limits.
’I wonder if all of this was worth it, ’ Max mused wearily. ’It’s hard to know if anything’s changed yet. Will there even be any effect? I made a strong vow. I’ve faced death more than a few times already... but without knowing what kind of power I’ve gained access to, if any, I might never know whether this whole ordeal worked.’
Time passed in slow, dragging minutes. Then, at last, the door slid open with a faint hiss. Unsurprisingly, Aron stepped inside, a warm smile playing on his lips.
"You haven’t forgotten who I am this time, right?" Aron asked with a teasing tone.
Max shook his head slightly, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"A stalker? A Silver Ranger? Which name do you prefer?" he replied dryly.
Choosing to ignore the jab, Aron turned and stepped back into the hallway. A moment later, he called over a doctor.
Soon after, the doctor entered the room and began a series of tests on Max. He pressed and prodded various points on Max’s body, gauging his reactions with careful precision. All the while, he glanced between several charts and the various machines humming softly nearby.
After completing the examination, the doctor exchanged a few quiet words with Aron outside the room. Moments later, Aron returned alone, his expression unreadable.
"You don’t look happy. Am I seriously hurt? Am I going to be out for a while?" Max asked. A small note of worry crept into his voice, though it wasn’t his injuries he was most concerned about. He was more anxious about whether the Rejected Corps had tried to contact him during this time... and what exactly he would say to them if they had.
"It’s quite the opposite," Aron replied, his smile returning. "With the way you’re recovering right now... it looks like you’ll be able to get out of here tomorrow. And not just that, you’ll be making a full recovery."
Out of everything Aron said, one phrase stood out the most to Max. It echoed in his head.
"Did you say... full recovery ?" Max repeated slowly. "Was I not as hurt as I thought?"
"Quite the opposite," Aron said again, leaning forward slightly. "When I first brought you in, they ran x-rays and a whole series of tests. The doctors could tell right away, you were in bad shape. They even suggested surgery in a few places to make sure everything healed correctly."
Aron paused, letting the words sink in. His tone shifted, growing more intrigued.
"However... during the next round of checkups, something changed. The doctor noticed something strange. Your body, it was healing itself. And not just healing, but doing so at an incredible speed. So fast, in fact, that they decided to hold off on the surgery to see what would happen."
Aron shook his head, a look of disbelief flickering in his eyes.
"And now, just one day later, your body has practically mended itself. By tomorrow, you should be back to your usual self. The doctors wanted to run even more tests, they’re curious why this is happening. But I stopped them, of course. I have a feeling that whatever you’ve gone through... this isn’t normal. It’s something superhuman."
At those words, Max glanced down at both of his hands, turning them over slowly.
"Superhuman?" he whispered.
His mind drifted back, piecing together the events. He thought about his previous wounds, getting stabbed, getting beaten to a pulp. All of it. Each time, his body had seemed to heal much faster than before. Compared to his old body, it wasn’t even close.
At first, he had thought it was just the youth of his current body, that maybe that alone explained the faster healing. But what if that wasn’t the case?
What if... having already gone through a near-death experience had unlocked his powers without him even realizing it?
Maybe the problem wasn’t that he lacked powers... maybe he just didn’t know how to access them properly. And now, with the vow he’d made, perhaps that had forged a stronger link, amplifying his abilities even further, resulting in what was happening to him now.
’Is my power superior recovery, then?’ Max wondered, narrowing his eyes. ’If it is... then it won’t do me any good against the Rejected Corps. Not unless I’m prepared to fight them one by one, to the death.’
But then another thought surfaced. He remembered something Hercules had once said, that some people could access several areas of power. They wouldn’t just excel in one field; they’d be superhuman in a general sense and then possess greater access to the traits that suited them best.
’So maybe this is just part of the whole... something that puts me on par with any other superhuman,’ Max thought. ’It might not be everything... but it’s a start.’
The idea that he might’ve unlocked something, anything, was still thrilling. The possibility alone sent a small surge of excitement through him.
And at that moment, a soft vibration buzzed beside him, accompanied by the familiar ding of a phone notification.
Turning his head, Max spotted his phone on the nearby table. The screen lit up with a new message: a notification about a shirt and a few other merchandise items being sold, along with the figure amount that had just come in.
As he stared at the notification, a faint, almost imperceptible warmth spread through his body. It wasn’t much, subtle, barely noticeable, but it was there. A soft wave of re-energization.
’It was so slight, maybe I only noticed it because of how groggy I am right now, but I do feel a little better. Right after making a sale...’ Max thought, a curious smile tugging at his lips.
Without wasting a second, he reached out and grabbed his phone. His fingers moved quickly as he dialed a particular contact.
The line rang once before it connected.
"Warma, thanks for answering so fast," Max greeted.
"Shouldn’t you be in school right now?" Warma asked, his voice carrying a note of concern.
"I’ve run into a few issues," Max replied casually. "Anyway... I need access to ten million of my funds. As quickly as possible."
"Ten million?" Warma repeated, though he didn’t sound particularly alarmed. "That’s not a problem. You know you can still access a large chunk of your funds without having to call me."
he paused. "Not everything is tied up in your portfolio or company business."
"I know," Max said. "I just wanted to give you a heads-up so you didn’t panic when you saw the transfer."
"Thanks for letting me know," Warma replied. A beat passed. "Can I ask... what exactly do you plan to do with that kind of money?"
"Ah, yeah, sure," Max answered, a playful edge creeping into his voice.
"I’m going to go gambling."