The System's Hold Over Me

Frizz slowly regained consciousness, his eyes fluttering open to the sight of a white ceiling and the harsh white glow of the fluorescent lights. His gaze darted around, disoriented and confused. (Hospital), he realized with a groan as he propped himself up. His hand moved instinctively to scratch his neck, but a weight on his left hand and a tinge of pain stopped him. Looking down, there was an IV taped to his hand, the tubing trailing off to a nearby stand.

[System]

Daily Objectives...temporarily canceled.

"That's not what I wanted to see. I just woke up." Frizz groaned as he shuffled around.

"Good, you're awake." A voice broke the silence. Frizz turned to see a man in a police uniform standing by his bedside.

"I'm Officer Shane Poe," the officer introduced himself, adjusting his cap. "You and your friend were attacked by a group of drunk hooligans. Your friend, Mill, wasn't as fortunate as you." His tone softened, and he shook his head apologetically.

"How bad is it?" Frizz asked, his voice hoarse.

"A fractured right forearm, multiple bruises on his torso, a bloodied face, and a broken nose.," the officer bluntly stated.

"Your friend is stable now and getting care, but it'll take time for him to recover," the officer remarked as he tapped his notebook. Frizz dejectedly looked down while guilt pooled in his chest.

"As for you," Officer Poe continued, "you were intoxicated. That IV helps flush the alcohol from your system. Aside from minor bruises and cuts on your face, you're mostly unhurt." He gave a small smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

The officer placed a reassuring hand on Frizz's shoulder. "We'll catch those guys. By the time we arrived, they were already gone. According to the three women who were with you, the attackers limped away as soon as they were able."

The officer smiled and nodded to Frizz. "I need you to help us, though—any details you can give, like a profile description or maybe a license plate?"

Frizz furrowed his brow, trying to recall. "It's all fuzzy," he admitted. "The guy who started it, the one who confronted us at the bar, had a shaved head."

The officer jotted down the description of the suspect. "What about their vehicle?"

"It was maroon," Frizz said. "I don't know the model, just the color."

(Wait! The nightclub! They should have cameras!)

"What about the camera footage? The nightclub should have that," Frizz asked.

"Yes, that's true; however, the footage was rather blurry. They were using older camera models."

Frizz sighed, feeling defeated, while the officer jotted down the description of the vehicle.

"That lined up with what the women had said. It's not much, but it's something. Thank you. Here's my number; call me if you remember anything else." He handed Frizz a card before leaving.

[System]

New Name received [Weakening Strikes]

Displaying descriptions: Each melee or unarmed hit slightly lowers the target's physical prowess. Stacks up to four times.

(Would've been nice to have that earlier.) Frizz thought bitterly as a male nurse approached.

"Your father and brother are on their way," the nurse said as he adjusted the IV.

"Just rest easy," the nurse assured him.

"Wait—how did they know?"

"Your friend, Mill, contacted his parents when he woke up, and they reached out to your dad."

"I see…"

The nurse left as soon as he finished his work. Frizz looked around the ward but didn't find Mill or any of the women.

(I should still rest...)

(Wait... don't I have a force field?) Frizz mused as he looked at his hand. (How did they get through it?)

"Hey..." A feminine voice rang out behind him. Frizz turned around, and it was Kae.

"Oh, hey. I thought you and your friends left." Frizz closed his eyes, clearly not interested in what she had to say.

"They left as soon as the police got their statements."

"I see..." Frizz replied in a dismissive tone.

"I just want to say thank you. Those men..." Kae paused as she clutched her bag. "They were perverts; they slipped something on our drinks, and they kept touching us." Frizz turned with piqued interest, she continued. "One of them grabbed Aylin. Mill stepped in and scared him off. That's when we introduced ourselves and danced on the floor."

"You didn't report it in the bar? Those bouncers would've kicked them out as soon as you reported it." 

"We didn't want the trouble."

(Then report them; if they are gone, then there's no trouble.) Frizz thought as he clicked his tongue.

"I'm sorry for coming on to you, at the beach. I was drunk and you were attractive," Kae said as she fidgeted around, clearly uncomfortable. "Thank you for dealing with those perverts."

"Eh, I've already forgotten it. No big deal. If they were scum, then they deserved the beating," Frizz replied with a snicker. Kae smiled faintly and scribbled something on a note.

"Here," she said, handing it to him. It was her FishBook account username.

"If you ever want to talk," she said, locking eyes with him. "Or hit me up."

Frizz raised a brow. "Sure, I'll add you."

Kae blushed slightly, looking away. "You don't have a girlfriend, right?"

"If I did?" Kae for a split second twitched but still smiled.

"Then make sure she doesn't find out," Kae whispered with a wink before walking off. "I owe you one."

(Bold. Also, I don't have a girlfriend.) Frizz yawned as she left.

"One last thing though. What was that about the force field?" Kae stopped to ask. Frizz's heart skipped a beat, he didn't expect the question. "I saw you get hit again and again by a plank, but you just shrugged it off." she added.

"Ah, Forget it. Thank you again." Kae said, brushing it off as she left the ward.

(I need to be careful with what I say.) Frizz thought as he closed his eyes.

Thirty minutes later...

"Frizz?" A familiar voice roused him. It was his brother, Weng.

"Hey," Frizz greeted.

"Well, at least you're not too banged up," their father commented, stepping into the ward. His tone was casual, but there was relief in his eyes. "I didn't expect that your reunion with Mill would end up like this. How long has it been? Five? Six years?"

"Yeah, something like that dad." Frizz replied.

"How's that friend of yours?" Weng asked.

"The police said he's stable," Frizz replied. "It'll take a few months for him to heal, though—fractures and bruises, but nothing requiring surgery."

"No surgeries, at least." His father nodded, noting that it could've been worse.

"What happened?" Weng pressed.

Frizz explained everything: meeting Mill at the convenience store, their plan to go clubbing, and the fight with the drunks. He carefully omitted the part where Mill nearly betrayed his girlfriend.

"Mill's still quite the charmer," Weng teased. "Guess that hasn't changed."

"Where is he now?" His father inquired.

"In another room, I think," Frizz answered.

"I'll go ask around," Frizz's father said as he placed down a single bunch of bananas on the table.

(Just bananas?) Frizz thought, suppressing a groan. He gave a polite nod and peeled one. One banana turned into four, then seven. By the time he finished, the whole bunch was gone. "Not a single one for me? I bought that." Weng protested because he was slightly hungry.

"Sorry," Frizz said sheepishly, patting his stomach. "I thought they were all for me."

The two brothers' father approached them. "Your friend Mill is in the other wing. Can you walk on your own?"

"Yeah, I'm good." Frizz stood, stretching his stiff limbs before grabbing the IV stand. Together with his father and brother, he made his way to the other wing.

The hall was crowded with patients, many wrapped in bandages, some attended to by nurses. Frizz spotted Mill at the far end, his body covered in bandages and his face etched with exhaustion. His parents were seated beside him, talking softly.

"Hey, Mill," Frizz shyly called out.

Mill's parents turned, offering polite smiles. "Frizz, my goodness, you've grown. Taller than Mill now, that's for sure."

"You were there; you were with Mill. What happened to him?" Mill's father directly asked Frizz.

Frizz managed a small smile and quickly recounted his conversation with the police. He left out the messier details, sparing Mill's parents unnecessary worry and stress.

Mill's father frowned. "That temper of his finally caught up to him. He should've been training, not out getting into fights."

"The doctors said the fractures are minor," Mill's mother added gently. "It'll take a couple of months to heal, but he'll be fine." Mill forced a smile, but the pain in his eyes betrayed him.

(Mill's injury isn't the priority. Catching those bastards is.) Frizz clenched his fists, rage flaring within him. (I'll get those guys.)

"The police are working on it, Mill; I'm sure they'll find them," Frizz said, attempting to lift his friend's spirits. Mill gave a faint nod, his lips curling into a weak smile.