Chapter 92: Make Me Move

Megan stopped him before the second chorus on Tuesday, tapping her pencil against the page while Liam let the strings fall quiet. They had already played the song twice, and neither attempt had contained anything he would have called a mistake. Apparently, that wasn’t enough anymore. She moved closer, pointed to the space between two lines, and asked him to leave it empty. Liam looked at the sheet, then played the passage again without filling the pause. This time, her next line entered on its own, clear enough that she smiled before finishing it.

"There."

"You could have said you wanted me to do less."

"I’m discovering that you need specific instructions."

Liam laughed and marked the change. They finished the rehearsal before either could find another reason to start over, then checked the organizer’s message together. Friday’s opening set was fifteen minutes, which meant the song they had polished yesterday wouldn’t be enough. Megan had brought the unfinished second one, along with an older piece she still liked. They settled on an order, recorded a rough version of the transitions, and divided what needed work before Thursday. By the time Liam put the guitar away, Megan had stopped asking whether they were ready and started complaining about which song should come first.

’That sounds more like it.’

"Don’t hurt your hands."

She said it while gathering the pages, looking pointedly at the fingers closing his bag. Liam held them up for inspection, then reached past her for his phone. Lin had sent a message confirming he was already at the warehouse. Beneath it was another, asking whether Liam intended to arrive before the booking ended.

"He’s getting impatient."

"Tell him you were doing something important."

"I’d rather keep my hands."

Megan laughed and walked out with him. They separated near the steps, and Liam checked one more message before heading toward the Bentley. Daniel had sent the introduction he had requested, along with available times for a meeting about the company. Alexandra had already replied to the copied message. Thursday afternoon worked for her, provided she could speak with her own adviser first. Liam confirmed, put the phone away, and drove to the warehouse without adding another problem to the evening.

Lin was sitting beside the mats when he arrived. His attention moved from Liam’s bag to the cape as soon as it came out, then settled on the screwdriver resting across his palm. Liam explained the movement before demonstrating it slowly, shifting sideways and bringing the blunt bar across the space he had left. Lin watched the first attempt without speaking. On the second, he stepped forward and caught Liam’s shoulder before the tool reached its position.

"That’s the problem."

"One of them."

Liam lowered the bar and looked at him. Lin released his shoulder, then walked around to the other side of the mat. He asked Liam to repeat the movement without the screwdriver. That went better. The cape took enough weight off his feet to let him change direction sharply, and the footwork skill supplied the position he needed when he landed. Unfortunately, Lin simply turned with him. By the time Liam reached what should have been his opponent’s side, Lin was facing him again.

"You keep showing me where you want to go."

"How?"

Lin pointed at his eyes.

Liam frowned. He hadn’t noticed himself looking toward the landing point, but remembering the last attempt made it unpleasantly obvious. He knew where his feet belonged. He still checked the empty space before moving into it, giving Lin time to follow. They repeated the entry until he could keep watching Lin instead. Then they repeated it again because doing something correctly when reminded wasn’t the same as remembering it while somebody reached for his neck.

’Three abilities, and I’m still losing because I keep looking at the floor.’

After twenty minutes, Liam brought the screwdriver back. He sent it along the short route he had practiced with Clara, expecting Lin to turn toward the obstruction. Lin stepped the other way and caught his wrist. The bar passed behind them without touching anything, looking considerably less impressive now that Liam was standing in the wrong place with his arm trapped.

"You didn’t look."

"I knew it was there."

"Clara looked."

"Then try it on Clara."

Liam pulled a face, but Lin released him before he could complain. The screwdriver returned to his hand, carrying a small feeling of frustration through their connection. He couldn’t tell whether it was unhappy with the route or simply sharing his mood. Either way, sending it through the same useless path again wasn’t going to improve matters. He sat beside the mat, opened his notebook, and crossed out the arrow Clara had labeled Almost Worked.

Lin took the chair opposite him.

"What are you trying to make me do?"

"Turn toward the bar."

"Why would I?"

"Because it’s coming toward you."

"Slowly. Where you told me it would go."

Liam looked down at the drawing. He had spent most of Sunday trying to make the three parts happen together. The cape moved him, the footwork steadied him, and the screwdriver distracted the opponent. That sounded reasonable until the opponent decided not to cooperate. Clara had glanced toward it and still caught him. Lin hadn’t needed to glance at all.

He turned the notebook around.

"What if it stops you going somewhere?"

Lin looked at the new line he drew.

"Then you need to know where I’m going."

They worked without fighting for the next several minutes. Liam entered from one side while Lin showed him the easiest way to turn and face him. Then he entered from the other. The responses weren’t identical, but they had something in common. Lin needed somewhere to put his foot before he could comfortably follow. Liam didn’t need to chase that foot with the screwdriver. He needed to place the bar where the next step would become inconvenient, then give Lin another reason to move.

The first test nearly caught Liam instead.

His heel struck the bar as he turned, making him stumble straight into Lin’s waiting hand. Lin steadied him by the shirt and looked down at the object between their feet. The screwdriver immediately withdrew, pressing against Liam’s palm when he recalled it. There was enough embarrassment in the connection that he briefly wondered whether the tool had learned that feeling from spending time with him.

"Too close," Lin said.

"I noticed."

"Notice before you put it there."

They changed the position. The bar would remain low, away from knees and ankles, and Liam would stop the movement if either of them lost control. He practiced placing it beside an empty space first, then landing on the other side without touching it. Instead of keeping the cape pulling him while directing the tool, he used one short shift, let his feet take his weight, and sent the screwdriver into position afterward. There was still effort involved, but the pressure behind his eyes no longer arrived immediately.

Lin watched three clean attempts before removing his watch.

"One round."

Liam stood straighter.

"With these?"

"With those. Controlled pace. No reflection."

"What counts?"

"Put me on my back. If I pin you or you lose control of that thing, you lose."

Liam nodded and placed the notebook beside his bag. He could feel his heartbeat becoming more noticeable as Lin stepped onto the mat. There was no point pretending this was a fair measure of their full strength. Lin could end it whenever he chose to stop limiting himself. But within the pace they had agreed, he wasn’t going to give Liam the position simply because they had spent an hour discussing it.

The first exchange proved that quickly enough.

Lin caught his forearm, turned his shoulder, and made him retreat before the cape had even moved. Liam freed himself and circled, keeping the screwdriver close rather than sending it out because he had remembered it existed. Lin approached again. This time, Liam began the sideways shift, saw Lin adjust, and stopped before committing himself. His footwork carried him back into a stable position while the other man’s hand passed close to his shirt.

"Better."

Liam barely heard him. He had finally noticed the difference between Lin following his movement and Lin waiting for him to make it. Until now, he had treated both as opportunities. He let the screwdriver settle beside his thigh and moved forward instead, catching Lin’s wrist with one hand while pressing the other against his upper arm. Lin resisted, then began turning the grip against him.

That was the moment Liam used the cape.

The short pull took him outside Lin’s shoulder. His feet landed beneath him, and he released the cape’s movement before giving the screwdriver its instruction. The blunt bar slid into the space beside Lin’s rear foot, close enough to prevent an easy step without touching him. Lin felt the obstruction as he turned. Instead of forcing his way through it, he brought his weight forward.

Liam was already there.

He changed his grip, kept his hips close, and continued the turn with both feet planted. Lin’s hand caught his shoulder, nearly ruining it. For a moment, Liam felt the whole movement begin to come apart. Then he stopped trying to pull harder and lowered himself into the position his grappling skill supplied.

They went down together.

Lin’s back touched the mat.

Liam recalled the bar immediately and remained still, breathing hard while he waited for the hand on his shoulder to move. Lin looked toward the screwdriver, then at the position of Liam’s feet. Finally, he released the shirt.

"That one."

Liam sat back slowly.

"That counts?"

"You keep asking that after you win."

He started laughing, then stopped when a green panel appeared between them.

[Main Mission Complete: Win a combat encounter using a technique you developed yourself.]

[Combat EXP Gained: 80.]

[Level: 5 (88/600)]

[Reward: Basic Concentration Skill.]

[AMPLIFYING THE REWARDS BY 10,000X...]

[NEW REWARD: God Tier Focus.]

[Explanation: Improves attention control and recovery from distraction. Does not increase mental energy or remove the strain of simultaneous ability use.]

Liam read the last line twice. The improvement settled more quietly than the footwork skill had. There was no sudden flood of movements to understand. Instead, the separate things pulling at his attention became easier to set aside. Lin was speaking, the screwdriver was pressing a pleased feeling through their connection, and the panel remained open. Liam could choose to listen without feeling as though he needed to answer all three at once.

He still felt tired.

Apparently, Red had decided to be particularly clear about that.

[Updated.]

[New Main Mission: Reach Level 6.]

[Side Mission: Complete a paid live performance with Megan using an original song.] [Incomplete.]

"What did you get?"

Liam dismissed the panels and looked at Lin.

"Something that should help me concentrate."

"Good. You stopped listening."

"I was concentrating on something else."

Lin held out a hand and pulled him up. They tried the entry once more at walking pace, which was enough for Liam to discover that knowing he had succeeded didn’t make the movement effortless. Lin changed the direction of his turn, and the bar ended up somewhere useless again. Liam recalled it before trying to force the finish. This time, failing didn’t bother him nearly as much. He knew which part needed work.

"What are you calling it?" Lin asked.

Liam glanced toward the notebook.

"Side Step."

"That’s all?"

"Clara’s suggestion was worse."

They packed up before he could become tempted to chase another reward. Outside, Liam flexed his fingers, found them all working, and sent Megan a photograph of his raised hand. Her reply arrived while he was putting the bag in the car.

Good. Keep them that way until Friday.

He smiled and closed the door. A second message followed almost immediately, this one from Alexandra. He expected another question about Thursday’s meeting. Instead, she had sent a photograph of two recorder cases beside a sheet covered in handwritten notes.

Someone brought us a copy.

Liam enlarged the picture. The case on the left was theirs, including the small uneven section near the charging port that Alexandra had complained about when making the first batch. The one on the right looked almost identical. A printed label covered the place where they normally marked the unit number.

He called her before starting the engine.

"Who brought it?"

"One of the students we contacted. He thought we’d already started selling the improved version."

"How much did he pay?"

"Eighty dollars."

Liam looked at the photograph again. They hadn’t released the redesigned recorder. Whoever had made this had copied the version they were still trying to bring back for inspection.

"Does it work?"

"It turns on."

"And?"

Alexandra was quiet for a moment.

"The wire is trapped in the same place."

Liam put the phone on speaker and started the Bentley.

"Keep both of them on the bench. I’m coming."