The next two weeks became a clandestine boot camp. Leo became a student of himself, a researcher into the limits of the Hundredfold Application. He could no longer afford to be afraid of the cost; he had to understand it.
He started small, in the controlled environment of his apartment. He focused on mundane, low-impact skills.
He practiced folding a shirt.
*[Skill Recognized: Garment Folding - Basic Lv. 1]*
[Hundredfold Application Activated.]
*[Result: Garment Folding - Master Lv. 10.]*
In the span of a single, fluid motion, the shirt was perfectly folded, creases sharp enough to cut paper. The mental drain was negligible, a slight flicker. The action was simple, the skill low-level. The cost was proportional.
He moved on to lock picking, using an old practice lock.
*[Skill Recognized: Lock Picking - Novice Lv. 1]*
[Hundredfold Application Activated.]
*[Result: Lock Picking - Master Lv. 10.]*
His hands moved with a locksmith's intuition. He felt the pins through the metal, understanding their alignment without sight. The lock clicked open in under a second. The drain was more noticeable this time, a wave of light-headedness. The skill was more complex, involving fine motor control and tactile feedback.
He was developing a theory. The "cost" of the talent was tied to two factors: the complexity of the skill and his own proficiency in it.
Multiplying a skill he already possessed to some degree was less taxing. If he was a novice cook, a hundredfold application might make him a master chef for one dish, with a moderate cost. But applying it to a skill he had zero aptitude for—like his fledgling "Technopathic Command"—was like trying to lift a mountain. The talent had to build the foundational skill from nothing a hundred times over before it could be applied, an exponentially more draining process.
This led to his most crucial discovery: The Sustained Application.
He was trying to improve his eyesight to read the fine print on a distant warning poster. He focused on the act of "seeing."
*[Skill Recognized: Visual Acuity - Basic Lv. 2]*
[Hundredfold Application Activated.]
Instead of a single, masterful glance, the effect held. For nearly ten seconds, his vision became preternaturally sharp. He could see the individual pixels on the poster's screen, the dust motes dancing in the air fifty feet away. The world was hyper-defined. Then, the strain hit him, a sharp pain behind his eyes, and his vision returned to normal, slightly blurry.
He could sustain the effect if he focused, but it was a continuous drain, like holding his breath mentally. A single, instantaneous application was a sprint. A sustained one was a marathon, burning through his reserves far quicker.
This changed everything. It meant he couldn't just be a one-trick pony, firing off a hundredfold skill and then collapsing. He could, with practice, maintain a lower-level multiple for a longer duration. What if he applied a tenfold boost to his reflexes? Or a fivefold boost to his cognitive processing? He could become more than human, not just in flashes, but for a fight, for an escape.
His experiments were interrupted by a commotion outside. Shouting. The distinct crackle of Sweeper issue plasma rifles. Another incursion. Smaller this time, but closer. Too close.
Cautiously, he peered out his window. Down in the narrow alley between his residential block and the next, a small, skittering Manifestation, a "Phobia-Weaver" that looked like a twisted fusion of a spider and a broken mirror, was cornering a young woman. It was reflecting her own terrified face back at her in a hundred distorted fragments, feeding on her fear. Two Sweepers were pinned down, their fire ineffective against its reflective, shifting carapace.
This was different from the Grief-Eater. It was faster, more agile. A single, overwhelming burst might not work. He needed finesse. He needed control.
This was a test. Not from Captain Valerius, but from the world itself.
Taking a deep breath, Leo focused. Not on a grand, technopathic command. Not on a master-level skill. He focused on the most fundamental action he could think of. He picked up a heavy, ceramic mug from his table. He focused on the throw. But this time, he didn't aim for a hundredfold. He aimed for less.
*[Skill Recognized: Projectile Accuracy - Basic Lv. 1]*
[Intent: Sustained Application. Multiplier: x10.]
The world didn't blur into masterful perfection. Instead, a calm, hyper-awareness settled over him. He could feel the weight of the mug, the air resistance in the room, the trajectory to the creature's central mass as clearly as if it were drawn in light. His muscles tensed with a new, fluid certainty.
He didn't throw the mug with impossible speed. He threw it with impossible precision. It sailed out his open window, arcing down into the alley, spinning perfectly. It didn't strike the creature's hard, reflective shell. It sailed past the main body and smashed directly into the narrow, fleshy stalk that connected its core to the ground—a vulnerability he could now see with his enhanced perception.
The creature shrieked, a sound of breaking glass, its focus broken. The distorted reflections vanished. In that moment of distraction, the Sweepers found their mark. Twin plasma bolts struck its now-exposed core, and the Phobia-Weaver dissolved into a puddle of shimmering, black ooze.
Leo let out the breath he didn't know he was holding. The sustained tenfold boost faded, leaving him with a manageable, dull throb in his temples. He hadn't collapsed. He hadn't drawn attention with a massive power spike. He had applied surgical, controlled force.
He looked at his hands. They were no longer the hands of a zero, or a frightened fugitive. They were the hands of a craftsman learning to wield the most dangerous tool in the world.
The hunt was on, yes. But he was no longer just prey. He was learning to be a hunter.