My Trash Talent Is Actually OP!

The walk to the training field behind the apartment was tense, because of the annoying smile on Sinnet's face which meant he was up to no good, and Asher's blank expressio.

Nova kept glancing between Sinnett and Asher. She could feel the heat bubbling under Asher's calm expression. He wasn't angry yet, but he was close.

Sinnett, as always, walked like he owned the street. Calm, loose-limbed, hands still stuffed in his pockets like he was heading for a snack, not a spar. He didn't even turn around when he said.

"Relax. I didn't tell her everything. I left out the time you almost choked Naomi after she bullied Emma."

Asher didn't reply, because it was true, he hadn't done it, but he'd thought about it. A lot.

And That day too, Naomi had mocked him in front of a group of other aspirants, laughing too loudly, saying he'd never amount to anything.

He remembered looking at her throat, her neck, how easy it would be to shut her up forever. His hands had even twitched.

But he hadn't done it.

Just like he hadn't killed Reed when he found out the bastard had betrayed him, and said nonsense about him after he discovered his class, and he was his best friend.... Asher's best friend actually.

Just like he hadn't actually lit High Inquisitor Alden on fire when he was being "interviewed" by the Saints and barely stopped himself from retaliating.

Asher had thought about doing all those things. That was the difference.

But Sinnett throwing those thoughts around like they were facts? That was dangerous, and not nice at all.

They reached the clearing behind the apartment. The field was dry, a few patches of grass still clinging to life. Fences framed it on three sides, and the streetlights cast long shadows.

Nova stepped back, keeping her distance.

"Rules?" Asher asked flatly, as he adjusted the sleeves of his shirt.

"No killing," Sinnett replied with a smirk.

"Anything else?"

"Nope."

They squared off. Asher rolled his shoulders, doing light stretches. He wasn't stupid, Sinnett was stronger, more experienced, and wouldn't hesitate.

But Asher wasn't the same guy he used to be either. The body switch, missions, the dungeon raid, the fights… did something, made him less lazy.

Or maybe it had always been there.

Maybe everything that happened, the betrayal, the exile of Zero, had just peeled back the layers hiding who he really was.

The first blow came fast.

Sinnett didn't waste time. He moved like a blur, hands free, body twisting at the last second as he aimed a sweeping kick toward Asher's legs.

Asher jumped back, barely dodging.

He was fast too, though not as quick. But his reflexes were good.

Sinnett didn't stop, didn't give space. He moved like water, constantly shifting, testing him, pressing forward, to get on every nerve possible.

Asher blocked a jab with his forearm, gritted his teeth, and dodged again.

"You're too tense," Sinnett muttered. "You're overthinking again. Don't fight like a mage. Fight like a predator."

Asher lunged forward, going for a punch to the side.

Sinnett ducked under it and landed an elbow into his ribs.

Asher stumbled back, and sucked in air, that one hurt.

"Come on," Sinnett said, circling him like a vulture. "You've thought about killing people, right? So why don't you fight like someone who's ready to go that far?"

Good bait, and Asher knew it, still for some reason it worked.

The words started to echo in his mind again—Naomi's laugh, Reed's betrayal, Alden's cold eyes. That sickening feeling of powerlessness, that the last Asher showed, and yet he was doing it again, the feeling of being mocked, discarded, laughed at.

He threw a sharp kick toward Sinnett's hip. Blocked.

Then a punch. Blocked again.

Sinnett grinned. "You've got fire. I'll give you that. But you're still holding back."

Another kick swept toward Asher. This time he didn't dodge.

He caught it.

Sinnett blinked.

Without hesitation, Asher twisted his body and slammed Sinnett down onto the ground, but the guy rolled with it and popped back up like a damn cat.

He was laughing now. "There it is. That's the guy I've been looking for. The one who dreams of putting Reed's head on a spike."

"Shut up," Asher growled.

"Oh? Touched a nerve?"

They clashed again. Punches, kicks, knees. Asher was faster now, sharper. He wasn't holding back his movements, just his power.

He still hadn't summoned his soldiers. Because once he started doing that—this wasn't a spar anymore, he could actually kill Sinnett.

Sinnett pushed forward again, his attacks became more aggressive. "You're scared of yourself, aren't you? Scared that if you really let loose, you might like it."

He landed another blow, Asher reeled but stayed upright.

Another kick. Asher blocked it, but his arm throbbed.

Nova was silent the whole time, standing near the fence, watching them like someone forced to sit through a car crash.

Then Sinnett did the thing that snapped something inside.

He leaned in during the next clash, real close, holding Asher's arm by his side, and whispered.

"I bet your mom still thinks you're some innocent little boy. I wonder what she'd say if she knew you sometimes think about raising her soul if she died just so she wouldn't leave you."

Asher stopped, multiple questions flew into his mind, how did he know he could raise the dead? How did he know he ever thought of that?

Simple, Sinnett knew everything, although it was unexplainable, he did.

Asher's fist was already drawn back, he didn't throw it.

Not yet, he just stood there, breathing heavily.

Sinnett smirked. "Gotcha."

He'd been trying to stay in control. Trying to protect the image his mom had. Trying to be the rational one.

But the truth was, he had thought of that before.

Last night, when his mom coughed up blood while going to get water and he was busy looking for what to eat, he thought about her not waking up at all. The system had even prompted a thought: "Do you wish to bind this soul?"

He hadn't said yes, but the fact that it asked was enough to make him question everything. The system knew what he wanted, and it was a proof that he could also raise new souls.

And Sinnett throwing that back at him, smiling like it was a joke?

Asher's eyes turned dark, he stepped forward and for the first time during the fight, attacked.

The punch was clean, fast, and had enough force behind it to make Sinnett duck, but not fast enough.

Asher's fist grazed his cheek, the hit snapping his head sideways, and made Sinnett bite his mouth

He staggered slightly, blinking. Then he licked the corner of his mouth.

"Well, shit."

Asher didn't give him time to speak, the next strike came immediately.

Sinnett dodged, barely. Then countered. Asher blocked and retaliated. This time, it wasn't a spar. It was personal.

Nova moved closer but didn't intervene. She saw , what was happening, and so was Asher's mother, watching them with wide eyes, and with Alya behind her enjoying the scene.

Asher wasn't fighting for fun anymore.

He was fighting because his thoughts had finally pushed past the wall he built for himself.

Every betrayal, every insult, every time someone looked down on him because he was a necromancer, it all came boiling to the surface.

Sinnett still had the edge in experience, but Asher was unpredictable. Raw. Brutal.

When he swung again, Sinnett ducked, but not fast enough. A second punch connected with his ribs, and a sharp grunt escaped his lips.

Another hit.

This time, Sinnett didn't laugh.

"You finally done pretending?" he asked, blocking the next attack.

Asher didn't answer, He kept coming.

Fists, knees, short sharp blows meant to hurt, not just spar.

Naomi's voice. "You're pathetic."

Reed's smirk.

Alden's comment. "We don't accept necromancers."

He wanted them gone, all of them, not like he decided to choose it,. compared to the game. He likes being a Necromancer though, but when he saw that all his efforts to actually be a good person was being cast aside it became annoying.

Even on the raid, if he hadn't let the soldiers fight, they'd have close to twenty new bodies to record, Naomi and reed included.

One last punch flew forward, fast, aimed at Sinnett's face, but he caught his wrist mid-air.

They stood there,. panting heavily

Sinnett's grin returned. Bloody this time.

"You're getting there," he muttered. "Not yet. But soon."

And Asher?

He stared at him, his chest was rising and falling.

Because in that moment, he wasn't sure if he hated Sinnett more, Or himself.