Strength Based Wizard

Chapter 29

Muscle Man's Self-Improvement Guide, Part II

The scent of freshly ground coffee beans hits me the second I step through the door of Revolver Coffee. It’s a small spot—tucked away in Cleveland’s Waterloo Arts District—the kind of place that’s been here long enough to be a neighborhood staple but still feels like a well-kept secret.

To the right, a glass-doored fridge hums softly, packed with pre-made food: cold sandwiches, oat parfaits, little plastic cups of hummus with pretzels. The main bar is straight ahead, where two baristas are handling orders like a well-oiled machine. Taps line the counter, dripping out house-made cold brews and pre-batched lattes in deep browns and nutty ambers. An espresso machine hisses somewhere in the background. Above them, a handwritten chalkboard menu lists an array of drinks, most of which I already know by heart. The rest of the space is a mix of seating—a faded leather sofa, some mismatched chairs, a few small round tables with just enough room for a laptop and a cup. A long bar with stools runs along the massive front window, framing the street outside.

No sign of Clyde or Veronica yet. Looks like I’m the first one here.

I stride up to the bar and place my order—small pour-over, black. The barista nods, moving with the fluid precision of someone who’s done this a thousand times. A few minutes later, I’m handed a ceramic cup with steam curling from the rim. I bring it to my nose, inhaling the earthy, slightly fruity aroma before taking a sip. It’s good. Really good.

I pick an open table near the window, setting my coffee down and leaning back in my chair. The street outside is quiet, a few people wandering past, most wearing jackets against the crisp morning air. I take another sip, letting the warmth spread through me. Today is a good day. I feel solid. My mood is light, though there’s still that edge of anticipation—borderline anxiety—coiled in my chest.

This morning’s workout was a killer. Fasted cardio—thirty minutes on a steep incline—then a solid Pull day. Wide-grip lat pulldowns, rows, curls. Everything felt strong and I was able to really push myself on squeezing out a couple more reps. Those final, gratifying, partial reps before failure had become harder to achieve since I’ve grown accustomed to my enhanced body. The biggest downside to my System-modified form is the fact that the pre-workout barely hit. I’m starting to think my body isn’t reacting to stimulants the way it used to. Could be the System doing something. Could be that I’ve just adapted. Either way, it’s weird.

I check my phone. Still no messages from Clyde or Veronica.

I take another slow sip of my coffee, feeling the slight burn on my tongue, and pull out my phone again. The screen lights up, and I shoot off a quick text to the group chat.

‘Teamwork Make the Dream Work’

>Joseph: Here. Got my coffee. Where you guys at?

I drop in a gif of Spongebob sitting patiently in a booth, hands folded in front of him, steaming cup on the table.

No immediate response.

I lean back in my chair and start scrolling aimlessly, half-reading an online article on weightlifting supplements for the System-enhanced while my brain idly soaks in the café’s ambiance.

To my left, two women are deep in conversation. Not the hushed kind that people have when they’re trying to be discreet. No, this is the animated, slightly-too-loud kind that practically demands to be eavesdropped on.

“…I’m telling you, it’s a goddamn nightmare,” the first, a brunette woman, says, aggressively shaking her iced latte like it personally offended her. “More bodies this morning. All women. And all of them had System access. It fucking terrifying!”

I blink and glance over, pretending to be engrossed in my phone.

The other woman, a blonde with thick glasses, shakes her head. “Yeah, I saw. Chicago’s totally losing its mind over this. They’re bringing in Guilds because the System-Empowered Unit of the Chicago Police Department is completely useless, apparently.”

“Creeps me out…” the first woman says, still shaking her latte.

“It’s in Chicago,” the second woman responds, “which makes me feel a little better. And we don’t have System access… It’s more like following one of those true crime podcasts I used to binge.”

I freeze mid-scroll. A System-empowered serial killer? That’s… bad. Really bad. Just like the woman said: it’s a terrifying thought. The news has never been shy about reporting on all the chaos the System brought with it, but this? This is next-level. There were several incidents during the first month or so, but governments quickly responded to install order by expediting their own embracement of the System. I’m surprised that something like a System-empowered serial killer in Chicago hadn’t made national headlines already. And the fact that it’s targeting people with access?

Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

My stomach churns.

I pull up my System interface and navigate to the Discussion Channels. Maybe there’s a thread on this. Maybe someone has real info and not just secondhand café gossip.

Nope. Nothing useful. The Discussion Channels are an absolute mess. A million people shouting into the void about their builds, their loot, their dumb conspiracy theories about the System. No way to filter. No way to search efficiently. Just chaos. I can’t help but think the System designed the Discussion Channels this way on purpose. Can’t have a resource of unlimited knowledge be too helpful, after all… God dammit.

I run a hand through my hair, irritated, when the door swings open. The bell jingles, and I glance up to see Clyde strolling in.

He spots me immediately, grins, and makes a beeline for the counter.

I close out of my interface, lock my phone and take another sip of coffee, trying to shake the uneasy feeling settling in my gut.

My phone vibrates and I glance down.

‘Teamwork Make the Dream Work’

>Veronica: Be there in a sec!

A ‘Haha’ reaction is added to my Spongebob gif.

Clyde walks over from the counter, looking like he lost a fight with his pillow and barely survived. His hoodie is wrinkled, his bomber jacket looks like it’s seen some things, and he’s clutching a large cold brew like it’s the only thing tethering him to this world. He plops down in the chair across from me, eyes half-lidded but alert.

“Sounds like Veronica should be here any second,” I say, locking my phone and setting it down.

“Good,” Clyde mutters, taking a sip of his drink. “Don’t think I can wait too long, man. Interested to hear about this.” He flashes me a toothy grin before taking a sip of his cold brew.

Last night, when I texted them about having found the Bronze Gate Ticket Enhancement, they both freaked out. I barely had time to explain before Clyde started spamming all-caps texts and Veronica sent a string of rapid-fire voice messages demanding we meet in person. So here we are.

“Yeah, well, hopefully we’re not waiting on Veronica too much longer,” I say, taking another sip of my coffee. “Excited for our next job tomorrow, partner?”

Clyde smirks. “The Extraction A-Team.”

Before I can respond, the door swings open, and Veronica rushes in, looking flustered. She blows a stray strand of hair from her face and spots us immediately, giving us a curt wave of the hand as she makes a beeline for the counter. She orders quickly, bouncing on her heels as she waits for her drink.

A moment later, she slides into the seat beside Clyde with an exaggerated sigh, sets her cup down, and offers a tired but bright smile. “How’s it going, team?”

“Good,” Clyde says.

“Good,” I echo.Top of Form

“Okay,” Veronica says. “Spill it. How’d you happen to get your hands on the fourth Ticket Enhancement item?”

Clyde raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, man. You running some secret solo dungeon-crawling business on the side?”

I sigh, knowing full well they’re not gonna let me off easy. I scratch the back of my head sheepishly. “I used one of my Rank E Gate Tickets,” I say. “After we left that bar. Went in solo. Well, sort of. Jelly Boy was with me and… And…”

How do I put this?

“Jelly Boy has officially joined my party.”

Silence. Clyde just blinks at me. His face screams that he’s waiting for me to say I’m joking and cut to the real explanation. Veronica’s face is twisted into a thoughtful expression.

I clear my throat nervously, then grin. “Turns out, the little guy has a Bronze Gate Ticket. And his own copy of the Enhancement. Same as ours.”

Clyde chuckles, picking up his cold brew and taking a slow sip. “No way. You’re telling me our fourth party member is a goddamn slime?”

Veronica shrugs. “I mean, it did land the final blow on that pig.”

Clyde pauses, considering. “And he is adorable as shit… I suppose our Party was missing a mascot.”

I laugh. “I’m not sure he’d appreciate being called a mascot. Anyway, I think we should bring him along on our Extraction jobs. If we all hit Level 10, I think we can tackle a Bronze Gate together. Should only take two more jobs too, if we’re lucky.”

Clyde leans back, considering it. “Alright, I like it.”

Veronica narrows her eyes at me. “I think we should address what is the worst idea?” Her eyes throw daggers at me. “You going into a Gate alone.” She crosses her arms. “Seriously, Joseph. That was selfish and stupid. We need to coordinate, communicate. We’re supposed to be a team, remember?”

A team that just met each other for the first time yesterday, I silently retort. But I bite my tongue. She’s right, after all. It was foolish.

I glance at Clyde for backup, but he raises his hands in surrender. “She’s right, man.”

Veronica gestures at Clyde like, See? Then she sighs. “I would’ve gone with you if you’d asked, you know.”

I feel my face heat up. “I—” I clear my throat. “Yeah. I get it. I should’ve told you guys. I won’t go solo again without letting you know. Promise. I don’t know what got into me. I think that Extraction job set something off inside of me.”

Veronica studies me for a long moment, then nods. “Good. We’ll need that kind of motivation if we’re going to all reach Level 10 after only two more jobs. Who’s to say sneaking off to kill mobs will be as easy this next time?”

“And speaking of levels,” Clyde says, eyeing me, “How are you looking after soloing that Gate last night?”

I can’t help the wide smile that spreads across my face. “11.”

Veronica looks like she wants to throw her coffee at me. Clyde just whistles and nods appreciatively. I chuckle, waving them both off.

From there, the conversation shifts to strategy. We talk numbers, plans for the next job, how to optimize our efforts and maximize XP. Clyde and I go back and forth on whether I should be in the thick of battle, joining my spectral hands in combat. I try to explain to him that it might not be the best idea.

“I actually have zero experience fighting, and I’m still learning how to properly use my max Strength,” I say. An idea blossoms in my mind as I admit my shortcomings.

We hash it out until Clyde glances at his phone and groans.

“Shit. I gotta get to work.” He drains the last of his cold brew and stands, stretching.

“Yeah, me too,” Veronica says, grabbing her drink. “See you guys tomorrow!”

I watch them go, lingering a bit longer to finish my coffee. I now have my own stops to make today. The plans begin to take real shape in my mind.