Me and My Overpowered Abilities

{A/N: I started posting advanced chapters on Telegram, Download Telegram, which is the app with the paper airplane. After, search up Itachi1010devils. Thanks for the support}

Far from the hospital, Adam sat with his back pressed against a wall, his breathing heavy and labored. Changing Jacob's fate by altering his job class and bestowing him a new one tailored to his essence had taken more out of him than he anticipated.

"I guess I'm not as strong as I thought," he muttered, "Then again, I don't even know the full extent of my power."

His gaze shifted to his open palm, studying it as though it held answers he had yet to uncover. Slowly, his fingers curled into a fist, the motion deliberate and firm. For a moment, he considered testing his strength—releasing it into the air to see what he could truly do. But just as quickly, he stopped himself, lowering his hand.

He took a steadying breath. "I have to remember," he murmured, almost like a mantra. "I'm not human anymore." His eyes narrowed slightly. "In fact, I'm better than a Saiyan."

While Saiyans relied on Ki to break through their physical limitations, I simply shattered mine outright. Turns out, pushing myself to the brink while I was still overweight wasn't the smartest idea. I ended up peeing blood and throwing up blood. Of course, I pushed my body way too far, but there was a moment when I hit this high—this euphoric state where I felt truly alive. I didn't realize at the time that this was me breaking through my physical limits. What I also didn't realize was that there would be a ceiling to how much I could hold back my true strength.

The last time I used any real force was in an E-grade dungeon. I was holding back as much as possible, yet I still ended up destroying the entire dungeon. So yeah, I have no clue how powerful I really am. It's kind of sad, actually. I never had the chance to properly test my strength. I started working out, and before I knew it, boom, I was too strong to even throw a punch without worrying about catastrophic consequences.

Then again, I had mastered both chakra control and Ki control, so I could use them without worry. That's why I didn't have to fear accidentally sending too much chakra into someone's mind and killing them in the process.

Honestly, while I might come across as someone with no real motivation, I do have one—one big question that drives me. I want to know who gave me these powers. That person said I had completed life in "hell mode." He even said it in a way that made it sound like I chose that path. Like hell, I'd ever willingly choose something like that.

The truth is, that voice wasn't wrong. Without my grandma, I probably would've ended it a long time ago. Even with her, this hallucinated version of my grandma I created to keep myself going, I still tried to take my life a few times. But every time, she would show up and stop me at the very last moment.

But there was another question nagging at me: if I could gain anime abilities and bloodlines, did that mean those worlds actually existed out there? I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to summon a dragon the size of a universe, one that could grant any wish I wanted. Then again, did I even have a wish I truly wanted? Maybe not. But I couldn't deny the thrill of living through that kind of experience. So, if it was possible, why would I ever refuse the opportunity?

Anime and similar fantasies had always been my escape from reality. To actually live them? That would be a dream come true. Was it childish? Sure. But honestly, what else did I have to look forward to in life? I didn't really want to be a father—I was just taking responsibility for my mistake and doing my part. Beyond that, these what-ifs running through my head were the only things I was looking forward to.

***

"It's true..." Blessing's heart sank as she watched her father's downcast expression before both their gazes shifted toward the blind old lady who had just helped them foresee the future.

"Someone has used a skill on you to obscure what would really happen," the old lady said, her tone calm yet grave. "The fact that everyone entering the dungeon has also been affected by this same skill confirms it. Your friend Adam was telling the truth, this dungeon is a trap, designed to severely weaken or even dismantle the Zenith Guild."

"Thank you, Aunty," Blessing said sincerely. The blind woman, who was actually in her early forties, gave a soft smile. Her ability to see the future came at the cost of her eyesight, and her prematurely aged appearance was the result of an attack meant to drain her lifespan. Her skill was a rare and coveted gift, one that many had sought to exploit.

"... Adam said the dungeon boss was fifty times stronger than a D-grade dungeon boss. How would he know that? Did he clear such a dungeon on his own?" Blessing's father asked, adjusting his glasses as he fixed her with a sharp, questioning gaze.

"Leave him alone," Blessing replied with a frown. "Adam's just a guy who wants to be left in peace. He doesn't need you meddling in his life."

"You're avoiding the question," her father said, his eyes narrowing. "How does he know? The more you dodge this, the more I'm starting to wonder if he's stronger than me."

Blessing kept silent, her lips tightening in defiance. She had no intention of revealing anything more about Adam.

"So, you think he's stronger than me? And you're attracted to him?" Blessing's father's frown deepened, his tone laced with disdain. "Surely a slut like you didn't actually fall in love."

The sharp crack of a closed umbrella meeting his head interrupted his tirade, causing him to clutch his head and wince in an act of being in pain.

"Don't talk to her like that," the old woman said, her voice firm and displeased as she held the umbrella with practiced authority.

Blessing's father snorted in annoyance but bit back a retort. Despite his irritation, he held his tongue out of respect for his late wife, making this old lady his sister-in-law. Still, his gaze shifted to his slut of a daughter, wanting answers

"Yeah, I think he's stronger than you," Blessing said bluntly, unfazed by her father's name-calling. Their relationship had long since devolved into a brutally honest, toxic exchange of insults and arguments. It stemmed from years of dysfunction—her father struggling to raise a rebellious daughter on his own and a daughter who fully embraced her defiance. Despite the toxicity, there was still some twisted form of love buried beneath the chaos.

"I want to meet him," her father said firmly, his expression grim. "I can't rest without seeing him with my own two eyes." He sounded like a man grappling with the image of someone carrying a live bomb around his daughter.

Adam's power was undeniable, and that made him dangerous in her father's eyes. It wasn't just concern for Blessing's safety; it was also about trust—or rather, the lack of it. He trusted his own judgment far more than that of his daughter, who he deemed unfit to evaluate anyone, especially a man.

"it's up to him, and he'll refuse. Don't force this," Blessing said sharply, her tone unusually serious. "When the time is right, you'll meet him."

Her father frowned, dissatisfied but unwilling to press further. He watched her leave, his eyes narrowed, before turning toward the old woman sitting quietly nearby. She simply smiled, a calm and knowing look on her face, as if she already understood more than he ever could.

"It's nice to see her finding love. She's moving on from her past... that's good," the old woman said warmly, her smile genuine.

"Just because you look old doesn't mean you have to talk like an old hag," Blessing's father quipped with a raised eyebrow, his tone dripping with sarcasm. The old woman's grip tightened on her umbrella, clearly tempted to strike him again.

Meanwhile, Blessing played with a cigarette in her hand, twirling it between her fingers before placing it in her mouth—though she didn't light it. She was pregnant, after all, and this small ritual helped calm her nerves.

'Those injuries Adam had... they were fake, weren't they?' Blessing thought to herself, her mind racing. 'What would he gain from pretending to be weak?' The realization hit her like a bolt of lightning. 'Of course. He's lowering his value in the eyes of his enemies, making himself seem less of a threat. Smart.'

She smirked faintly but let out a sigh, her fingers tapping on the unlit cigarette. 'But it won't work. Clearing dungeons at this pace will still draw attention to him. He's underestimating just how much of a beacon he's becoming.'

Her gaze turned contemplative as she leaned back in her chair. 'Does this mean it'll be harder to fix him?' she wondered, her smirk softening into something closer to determination.