Chapter 61: Distracted Alexander.

When he reached Alexander, he grabbed the club. But Alexander slipped away and raised the club to smash into him. His movements were like a startled cat rearing to strike back at an ambusher.

But when Alexander saw who had approached him, he froze, his hands and the club raised above his head. Then he asked suspiciously, “What happened? What are you doing here?”

He didn’t lower the club, though. Clearly, he was considering whether he needed to use the club against Frank. His decision would depend on what Frank said and how believable it was.

But Frank didn’t answer his question. Instead, the Small Boss asked, “What was that?”

“What was what?” he asked back, confused.

“That thing you just did.”

“What did I just do?”

Frank was lost for words as he said, “What do you mean? What did you just do? You did it just now.”

Seeing the blank look on Alexander’s face, he said, frustrated, “You avoided my grab. How did you do that?”

Alexander shrugged and said, “I don’t know. I didn’t think about it.”

“Exactly,” Frank said, snapping his fingers.

His eyes were gleaming as he said, “You didn’t think about it. That’s what I was referring to. That’s not normal.”

“That’s… It is…,” he struggled to find the words to use.

“Abnormal?” Alexander offered.

But Frank was not happy with his help. The green man glared at him and said, “Of course it’s abnormal. What’s abnormal about it?”

Alexander didn’t know the answer, and his face went blank, as if Frank was speaking another language. The look on his face seemed to irritate Frank more as he said, “What is wrong with you?”

Alexander’s face was still blank as he said, “What do you mean?”

“You look off somehow. Like you heard bad news and lost your soul.”

Hearing this, Lord Bane chuckled and said, “It is a mental trance. He is using it to reduce his thoughts so that I can’t spy on him.”

“This kind must have noticed something and has become suspicious. What a talent.”

“I must have him,” they said, determined, their eyes flaring with light. “He will be my champion whether he likes it or not.”

Meanwhile, Alexander was saying, “I’m fine. I’m just distracted.”

Frank still felt that there was more to it, but he decided not to press now. He waved his hand and said, “You’re done with that club. We need to move on to the next one.”

“A hundred strikes already? That was fast,” Alexander said, surprised. But there was no hint of surprise on his face.

His face looked as blank and unresponsive as stone. Only his eyes were animated, indicating that there was still something up there in his skull.

Looking at his demeanor, Frank said, “I think I’ve heard about it before. I swear, it is at the top of my tongue.”

“Anyway, what do you think about the weapon? Is it suitable or not?”

Alexander shrugged and said, “It was fine.”

He hadn’t noticed much about the club because he had been so focused on killing the imaginary Lord Bane. Plus, he didn’t have much experience with weapons, so he couldn’t tell if this one was good or not.

Frank didn’t like that answer, so he said, “We will get back to that later. When you use more clubs later, you should have a better idea about which suits you most.”

Then he put out his hand and said, “Give me the club.”

Apparently, the club was still raised above his head and poised to strike. Focused on his conversation with Frank, he had forgotten he still hadn’t decided whether to strike.

Now that he was reminded, his arm fell, and he handed the club to Frank. His muscles coiled and rippled across his body as he did so. The sight made Frank shiver.

“It is not normal,” Frank said as he took the club.

Then he gave Alexander another club. It was the same size as the previous one, but metallic and heavier.

After the exchange, Frank left with the old wooden club. On his way, he kept racking his brain and saying, “It is not normal.”

‘I can’t remember where I’ve seen it before, but that pompous prick should know,’ he thought, looking toward Lancelot.

As he turned his head, he saw Lancelot looking in his direction too. But while he had a contemplative look on his face, Lancelot had a big, wide sneer for him to see.

‘This fucker. He should know what’s going on. He is probably waiting for me to crawl over to him and beg.’

‘Over my dead body,’ he said, gritting his teeth. ‘I’d rather die by a thousand cuts.’

Then he snorted and turned away from Lancelot. For a while, he refused to acknowledge the other trainer’s existence, much less admit that there was a reason Lancelot was made the leader of the training department.

On the other side, Alexander kept swinging clubs. He spent about three minutes on each club before moving on to the next.

The good news was that he didn’t tire. Unlike a human, who would run out of stamina after a while and need to rest before moving again, he didn’t have that handicap.

He felt like he had endless physical energy. No matter how hard he pushed himself, he could always keep moving.

The bad news was that he had to pay a price for this superpower. The worst news was that the price was intensifying his hunger.

Even though his meditative state dulled his perception of pain and helped him ignore the hunger somewhat, he still felt like everyone around him was a thick drumstick.

Frank was a green drumstick, and even though that was a weird color for a drumstick, Alexander was willing to bet it tasted good. Lancelot was a drumstick too. But the best-looking drumsticks were still Robert and Barnabas.

Robert and Barnabas looked far and oily. Their skin had been deep-fried into a toasty brown that made his mouth water at the sight of them.