My title's upgraded. Something to chew on. Regeneration speed's now five times faster. So, a fracture that took a month to heal, with Endurer took two weeks, and now with Sufferer, it's six days. Still not much use, but here's the kicker: it upgraded once, so it can upgrade again. But when? After some quick math, I figured I need 1,000,000 damage points. That's 90% of the way to go. I'm tempted to chase the next title. It could be a serious boost for surviving this shithole. Speaking of boosts, what's the deal here? After more quick math, I… fuck it. First, it was 100%, then 400%, and next… what? Alright, regeneration doubled, then jumped to five times, and then… eight? That's fucking stupid. Wouldn't a 2-4-8 progression make more sense? Yo, system, your math's broken! Plus, the requirements are insane. Who the hell can take that much damage? And the bonus for all this suffering is so pathetic it's practically another kick in the nuts. Feels like someone cranked the game's difficulty and accidentally snapped the knob. What's the scale? Beginner, Amateur, Veteran, Pro, Master, Insane, Impossible, Inhuman, Cosmic, Godlike… You Fucking Moron? Guess my level's You Fucking Moron. Fine, nothing I can do about it. Gotta wait for the next title. Only, it's gonna take forever. Judging by my hair length, it's been about six months. So, four and a half more years hanging here? Fuck that. Unless…
"Hey, Vyer, what's that? You done already? Get back here! I've got plenty of untouched skin!"
"Grok said that's enough," Vyer replied.
"Why the hell'd you say that?!"
"Well, I'd run out of mana," Grok said.
"What? What've you been doing all this time? Ashamed of your pitiful mana reserves?"
The demons just shrank back, unsure how to respond. Time to take charge. And so began my coaching career. Welcome to the "By the Rock" School of Young Wizards. Don't worry, I'll send the bill later—you won't like it. From now on, I'm your personal Major Payne.
After the guys took a breather, I kicked off my first lesson.
"Vyer, break my arms."
He looked shocked, probably thinking I'd lost my damn mind. He wasn't far off.
"Come on, don't be shy. I'm just trying to help."
Vyer didn't budge. Shit… Should've used reverse psychology from the start. What a fucking idiot I am! Alright, enough. Can't undo it, so let's try another angle.
"Grok, how long you been at this?"
"At what?"
"Being a fucking moron… How long you been training your healing?"
"Not long. Maybe a hundred years or so."
"A hundred years?! And this is your result? A few bones and some skin? Ever think you're doing it wrong? Our healers up top would die laughing if they saw you."
"Think they'd die 'cause I ate them," Grok said.
"Don't change the subject! You're shaming the boss's name!" (By the way, I still don't know his name.) "Aren't you embarrassed being this weak? Keep this up, and the boss'll feed you to the dogs. That what you want?"
"No…"
"Then listen up and do exactly what I say."
"You're not my boss. You're just a weak little human."
"Sure, but if you wanna get stronger, I'm your only shot. Trust me, I've got experience. Back home, I was one of the most talented mages."
"Then why didn't you fight back when I dragged you here?" Vyer asked.
Fucking prick. You're thinking too logically for your two brain cells. Or did you just blurt that out without thinking? Gotta weasel out of this.
"That's 'cause I was on your side from the start. Humans betrayed me. Sold me into slavery. Sent me to eternal torment. I hate them. I wanna wipe them out to the last man. Think I ended up here by accident? It was all part of my plan. I wanted to join the demon lord's army. But first, I've gotta help my two buddies get stronger. Your call. Either we conquer the world together, or you stay laughingstocks forever."
"Didn't get any of that. Sounds like bullshit…" Vyer said, showing surprising clarity.
Damn… Thought it'd be easier.
"You don't believe me? Think about that spell I taught you. Think a regular mage could pull that off?"
"Well, yeah… But the boss gave us clear orders. Beat and heal. We can't disobey."
"We won't. We're gonna ramp it up to earn your place in the lord's army. Just do what I say, and I guarantee results. You'll rival the boss himself. Hell, the lord'll see you as equals. I swear it. Your names'll make every living thing tremble. Every demon'll beg to serve you. They'll write legends about you…"
The demons glanced at each other cautiously and shrugged.
"Alright, what do we do?"
Yes! They're mine! Oh, power… It's so fucking sweet. Now I get why people go into politics. Nothing beats the rush of controlling someone. How I pulled this off? It's not just a revolution. That word's too small. We need prefixes like super or hyper. This needs documenting for future psychology—reverse Stockholm syndrome. But I can't get cocky. Power can go to your head, and I've got a goal. I need to speed up my title upgrade. That means taking more damage. That means leveling up Grok. So, where to start? Right, first thing:
"First, we need to change my body's position. Constant verticality's holding back your progress."
"But the boss strictly forbade taking you off the rock," Vyer said.
"We won't. Just keep one chain on my leg."
The demons didn't move. Guess my power's not absolute.
"You wanna get stronger or not? Where am I gonna run? It's all hell out there. And could I even escape without the lord's permission?"
"True. Only a lunatic would defy the lord. Fine, we'll do it your way."
With a loud clank, my beloved shackles hit the rock. The plate holding my head vanished into the distance. A small dent stayed on my forehead. All this time, I was scared I'd take root in the stone, impossible to pry off. Thank God that didn't happen. Freedom… I feel my arms… my legs… my body… While I was hanging, I blocked signals from my whole system 24/7. My skill's so high now, I can do it in the background. Had to, since six months in one position isn't exactly comfy. But now, things are gonna change.
"Alright, boys, for max training efficiency, I need a mattress."