Ex rank talent Awakening: 100\% Dodge rate-Chapter 150 - : WILL MANIFESTATION

Chris stared at his legs, absentminded to whatever the nurse was saying. Her words of consolation echoed in the background, but none of it registered in his brain. His eyes were hollow, reflecting the numbness that gripped him.

"Doctor, you're finally here," the nurse said, walking toward the man in the white coat. She began filling him in on Chris's condition.

The doctor approached Chris gently, settling into the seat beside his bed. "Young man," he began, his voice calm but heavy, "unfortunately, your spinal cord was damaged during the car incident. The trauma was severe…"

Chris nodded slowly, still lost in a daze. His eyes stared ahead, half-absent. "My parents?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper, heavy and distant. "What about them?"

The doctor paused, carefully choosing his words. "Your parents..." he sighed. "I'm sorry, but they didn't survive the crash. You were the only one pulled out alive. It's a miracle you even made it. The collision was... catastrophic. You've been in a coma for three months."

Boom.

The news hit Chris harder than the crash. His world spun. A day that should have been filled with celebration turned into a living nightmare. He had lost his legs—and the two people he loved the most. Life felt hollow, pointless. The fire that once burned inside him was now ash.

The next morning, after he regained consciousness, the retired general and Brian came to visit.

Brian sat silently, his heart heavy, struggling to hold back the emotions surging within him. Seeing Chris lying there, so lifeless, broke him inside. Visiting every day while Chris lay unconscious was torture, but seeing his broken expression was far worse.

"Grandpa…" Chris muttered weakly.

"Hm, you're awake," the general said, his tone soft, his eyes filled with concern. He pulled a chair beside the bed, and Brian followed suit.

"What happened?" Chris asked. His voice was dull. He lacked the will to live, but a question lingered in his mind—one he needed answered. "They won't tell me anything. The doctors... the nurses... they keep avoiding it."

He wasn't stupid. Two trucks? One from behind, one from the front? It didn't add up. It felt like a setup. A trap.

Neither Brian nor the general said anything at first. The silence hung thick in the air. Then, Brian finally spoke.

"I'm sorry, Chris," Brian said, tears trailing down his face. "It's all my fault. Again… I'm the reason you're suffering."

Chris gave a faint, bitter smile. "My parents, huh? Even in the end, they still tried to ruin my life."

"I've seen to it they suffer the punishment they deserve," the general said, his voice steely and serious.

"What difference does it make, Grandpa?" Chris asked, his smile pained. "They're dead… I'm the one who can't walk. It's me lying here, not them."

"You're right," the general replied gently. "You're the one who lost the most. And I understand if you feel like there's nothing left to live for. But I promise you this—you still have a future. You still have a life worth living. But only you can decide that. Will you stay down... or will you rise again?"

The general stood, placing a hand on Chris's shoulder. "If you choose to live, I'll be back. I brought you the latest VR game—you used to love those, right?"

He turned and left, giving the boys space.

Days passed in silence. Chris remained lost in a fog of grief and despair. But eventually, something in him stirred.

"Grandpa... the game," he asked one day, quietly. "Can I still play it?"

The retired general smiled, heartened by the question. "Of course. I was waiting for you to ask."

He saw a spark in Chris's eyes—a faint one, but it was there. A sign of life. The first step was always the hardest, and Chris had taken it.

The general saw his own grandson in Chris more than ever now. Both victims of fate. Both surviving when others didn't.

Soon, Chris returned to a semblance of his old self. Gaming became his escape, his therapy, his new reality. If life had stolen his legs, it couldn't take away his dreams.

He remained in the hospital under special care, as arranged by the retired general, who ensured Chris was never alone.

---

Tears streamed down Chris's cheeks as he watched the livestream. His past haunted him—but for the first time in years, he felt hope. Maybe one day… he'd stand again. Just like before.

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Inner World: Kyle vs. Greg

Greg stood still, deep in the warped reality of Kyle's inner world. The sky was drenched in blood-red clouds. Bones jutted from lakes of boiling blood like jagged hills, and arrows rained from above like a deadly storm.

"How do you like my manifested will?" Kyle asked, floating high above. "Took me a lot of time to shape it. I hope you enjoy your time here."

He grinned. With Greg inside his world and the bracelet nullifying his invincibility, Kyle was certain—he had an 80% advantage.

"Your bones will be added to the countless others littering my realm," Kyle declared. He waved his hand, and a barrage of arrows surged down.

Greg didn't flinch. He didn't raise a defense. His cold eyes locked onto Kyle.

"You know," Greg said, voice loud and clear despite the chaos, "it's not good to be arrogant so early. You can only brag when you've walked over my corpse."

Kyle chuckled from above. "I plan to do just that. And maybe... I'll send Annabelle your way afterward."

Greg's gaze sharpened. "You and I… our wills—let's see whose is stronger."

Kyle's smirk faltered. Something in Greg's tone unsettled him.

"Will manifestation," Greg whispered.

Suddenly, the sky darkened. The ground shifted. Kyle's grotesque realm shattered like glass, consumed by a deeper darkness.

"What—!?" Kyle gasped, eyes wide.

Greg appeared before him, expression calm and unfazed. "See? I warned you not to brag too early. Didn't even take much effort to erase your will."

Now it was his turn.