My Talent's Name Is Generator - Chapter 144

Chapter 144: Strength Test: Hill Edition
[Level Up!]

[Level Up!]

[Level Up!]

[Level 40 → Level 43]

I glanced down at my arm as the muscles began to shrink, the bulk I’d built up with stored tension now fading away. A wave of fatigue brushed against me, but it didn’t last long. My recovery was already kicking in, swift and efficient, just like the passive had promised.

A low whooshing sound echoed through the tunnel, followed by a familiar tremor beneath my boots.

Something else was coming.

I turned slowly, my eyes narrowing as I focused. Another bat. I felt it before I saw it—its body slicing through the air, wings cutting against the tunnel walls as it charged at me, fast and furious.

I stood still and waited.

Its screech tore through the darkness as it rushed me. At the last second, it slashed with one of its claws.

I stepped back, let it overextend, and caught its wrist mid-swipe. My grip tightened.

Essence surged from my palm, turning sharp and cold as it shifted into ice. The freezing spread rapidly across its arm, climbing toward its shoulder.

The creature shrieked and swung with its other claw. I caught that one too, this time, even faster.

More Essence. More ice. The second wave hit harder, racing up its limbs like a living frostbite. It tried to pull away, its body thrashing in resistance, but my grip didn’t budge.

Then it opened its mouth. A faint glow began to gather near its throat. Wind essence. A sphere started forming at the center of its gaping jaw.

I clicked my tongue.

“Oh no you don’t.”

I leaned in and slammed my forehead into its skull with a sharp crack. Its head jerked backward, dazed.

I didn’t stop.

Another pulse of Essence burst from my core, pure, cold, unfiltered. It spread over the creature in seconds. The bat froze solid, a perfect sculpture mid-scream, ice trailing down its wings like broken glass.

I raised my hand and gave it a casual backhand.

The frozen body shattered on impact, exploding into pieces. Shards of ice and bone scattered across the tunnel floor.

I extended my Psynapse further through the tunnel, feeling for any other movement. But nothing stirred.

It was empty now.

I turned back toward the exit, the hole I’d blasted open earlier and walked through it. The mountain’s side curved around me as I stepped out.

The wind hit my face. Above me, fractured ridges of rock stretched across the horizon.

I glanced back toward the tunnel’s mouth.

“So… they’ve got an underground network too,” I muttered. “Great.”

I wanted to check how far I could push my muscles, so I moved toward the hill and stopped at its base. The rock face curved upward like a slanted wall, rough and thick, perfect for testing raw power.

I rolled my shoulders and cracked my knuckles.

My right fist clenched, and I focused on the muscle fibers in my arm. Slowly, I began compressing them, forcing the tension to build tighter and tighter. The veins on my forearm bulged as the muscles thickened. I exhaled and threw the first punch.

Boom.

The impact rocked the hill. Stone cracked where my knuckles hit, and dust puffed out from the force.

I grinned.

Then I switched to legs.

My left foot slid back as I bent my knee and focused on the fibers in my thigh and calf. The muscle tightened, storing power like a coiled spring. When it was at its peak, I unleashed it.

Boom.

My foot slammed into the side of the hill, sending a spiderweb of cracks across the stone. Chunks of rock tumbled down around me.

I didn’t stop there.

This time, I compressed the muscle in my fist again, tighter than before and activated [Seismic Burst] the moment I struck.

Crack-BOOM.

The hill shuddered violently. A crater appeared where my knuckles landed, and a pulse of shock ran through the stone, blasting a line of dust and pebbles several meters up the slope. My arm tingled from the feedback, but the recovery had already begun, knitting it back together.

“Alright,” I muttered. “Let’s try something fun.”

I lowered my stance, shifting my weight evenly between both legs. My arms rose, shoulders square, both fists clenched.

This time I didn’t wait.

Left, right, left, right—fist after fist, I punched the hill like a machine, compressing and releasing my muscle fibers with each strike. The impacts blurred into a rapid-fire rhythm, and every punch triggered a miniature shockwave.

Crack. Crack. Crack. Crack.

The wall in front of me crumbled bit by bit. Stone flew in all directions. My knuckles tore through the surface like drills, powered by compressed tension and Essence bursts. Sweat rolled down my neck, and steam hissed off my arms from the friction.

The roar of fists slamming into rock echoed through the mountains.

And I kept going.

I combined the compression and release with each punch, regulating the strain to avoid tearing anything inside. The more I did it, the faster I recovered. My control sharpened. Timing improved.

Boom. Boom. BOOM.

Each strike became cleaner. More precise.

I threw in [Seismic Burst] at random intervals, mixing it into the rhythm like a surprise beat drop. The earth groaned under the barrage.

Stone split. Debris scattered. I didn’t stop.

Three full hours passed.

When I finally stepped back, my arms were coated in a layer of dust and blood. My knuckles were raw but healing. The hill? Half of it was gone. A ragged trench, about ten meters wide and six meters deep, carved its way across the slope like someone had tried to dig straight through the mountain.

I breathed out slowly, my heart steady despite the carnage behind me.

I took a few steps back from the wrecked slope, letting the dust settle around my boots. My hands still buzzed with the aftershock of three hours of relentless pounding. But I wasn’t done yet.

I reached into my ring and pulled out the staff.

Its polished surface gleamed in the light, cool and solid in my grip. I held it horizontally, arms loose, then rolled my shoulders.

This time, I went further.

Both arms clenched as I focused inward, deep into the muscle fibers running from shoulder to wrist.

One by one, they tightened. Not just compressed, but packed—dense and coiled like metal wires pulled to their limit. My biceps thickened. Veins rose under the skin. The pressure mounted, and my arms swelled almost unnaturally, gaining nearly two inches in size.

I gritted my teeth.

Then I twisted my body and spun, planting my foot into the earth for anchor, channeling all the stored tension into the motion.

The staff whistled through the air and struck the mountain wall with both hands.

Boom.

The sound was deafening. Not just an impact—an explosion of force. The entire side of the hill cracked like glass, splitting from the point of contact. A deep gouge tore through the stone, hurling massive slabs outward like broken armor plates. Dust erupted in waves.

The staff vibrated in my hands, but I held firm, watching the aftermath with a small smile.

I let out a slow breath and stored the staff back into the ring. My arms still pulsed faintly from the force of the swing, but I felt good, tired, but alive.

I looked around. The sky above was growing darker. The shadows stretched long across the broken mountain range. Evening had almost settled in.

“One more day,” I muttered.

Just one day was left in the training zone.

I had two choices.

Either go deeper into the zone, find Abominations, fight, and level up… or focus on generating enough Essence to test the new function of my talent. But that second option came with a price.