From Loser to Mighty

10

Dave's phone vibrated, startling him. It was a message from an unknown number, just one line: "I want to meet. City Park, 3 PM."

There was no sender name, but Dave knew it was Karina. Only she would send a message like that after everything that went down.

Dave arrived at City Park precisely at three. He scanned the area. The park buzzed with people enjoying their leisure time. Dave spotted Karina sitting on a somewhat secluded park bench, beneath a leafy tree.

Karina looked completely different than usual. She wore oversized sunglasses that obscured half her face, a wide-brimmed hat pulled low over her hair, and a thick scarf wrapped tightly around her neck.

Dave walked over. "Karina?"

Karina looked up, a little startled. She took off her sunglasses.

"Dave," she said, her voice soft. "Thank you for coming."

Dave sat beside her. "What's going on? Why the disguise?"

Karina glanced around, making sure no one was watching them. "I don't want anyone to know I met with you."

"Why?" Dave asked.

Karina sighed. "After what happened at the mansion, Grandma's been watching me even more closely. She also doesn't want me to have any contact with you anymore."

Dave nodded. He had expected that. "I understand."

Karina looked at Dave, her gaze sincere. "I wanted to thank you, Dave."

Dave raised an eyebrow. "For what?"

"For Grandma," Karina replied. "She's made a full recovery. Even Dr. Albert couldn't explain it. He said it was a miracle. I know it was because of you."

"I was just doing my job," Dave said.

Karina shook her head. "No, you did more than that. You saved Grandma's life. And you proved that you're not what they accused you of."

"And you believe me now?" Dave asked.

Karina nodded. "I don't know what else to believe. But I know you didn't lie. I saw it in Grandma's eyes. And I know you're not evil."

Karina took a deep breath. "Because of that, I want to grant you one wish, Dave. Anything. As a token of my gratitude."

Dave was silent. A wish? He hadn't thought about that yet.

"I'll consider it," Dave said. "I'll ask for it later, when I truly need it."

Karina looked at him, a little surprised. "You don't want to ask now?"

"No," Dave replied. "I know you're in trouble. I don't want to burden you further."

Karina offered a faint smile. "You really are different."

Silence enveloped them for a moment. Dave could sense something heavy on Karina's mind.

Karina started again, her voice turning serious. "This is our last meeting."

Dave frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I'm not allowed to see you anymore," Karina said, her eyes avoiding Dave's gaze. "Grandma has forbidden it. And I'm getting married soon."

Marriage. Dave knew it. Oh God, he finally remembered something.

"Is it Markus Young?" Dave asked.

Karina was surprised. "How did you know?"

"Just a hunch."

Karina nodded. "It's for the company. Eager Group is in big trouble. My marriage to Markus is the only way to save it."

Dave looked at her. He could see the sadness in Karina's eyes. "You're not happy about this, are you?"

Karina didn't answer, only looked down.

"I can help," Dave said. "I can find another way to save your company."

Karina shook her head. "No. I told you this is our last meeting, and I don't want your help anymore."

Suddenly, Karina looked at her watch. Her face turned to panic. "I have to go!"

"What's wrong?" Dave asked.

"I need to find a rare gift for tomorrow's reception," Karina said, quickly standing up. "It's an important gathering for Markus and his family. Grandma wants me to give something special."

"A rare gift?" Dave repeated.

"Yes. Something unique and very valuable. I've looked everywhere, but I haven't found anything suitable." Karina looked very anxious. "I have to go now."

She looked at Dave one last time. "Thank you for everything, Dave. Take care of yourself."

Karina turned and hurried away, disappearing into the park crowd.

Dave got up and started walking aimlessly, letting his feet take him wherever. His mind was busy formulating a plan.

As he passed through a narrow alley lined with antique and junk shops, Dave heard a commotion. Shouts and the sound of breaking glass. His instincts immediately kicked in.

He quickened his pace and saw an old junk dealer being attacked by three burly thugs. The old man was already on the ground, bleeding, while the thugs ransacked valuable items from his shop.

"Hurry! Grab everything valuable!" one of the thugs yelled.

Dave didn't think twice. He couldn't let this happen. He charged in.

"Hey!" Dave shouted. "Leave him alone!"

The thugs turned, surprised to see Dave. "Who are you?! Don't interfere!"

"I said, leave him alone!" Dave repeated, his voice firm.

"You're asking for it!" another thug yelled. They left the old man and lunged at Dave.

Dave easily dodged the first punch. He didn't want to hurt them too badly, but he wouldn't hold back completely either. He moved swiftly, parrying blows, retaliating with kicks and punches that incapacitated without causing fatal injury. He targeted nerve points and joints.

The fight was brief. In a matter of seconds, two thugs were lying on the ground, groaning, unable to move. The third thug, the largest one, stared at Dave in fear.

"Who are you?!" he yelled.

"Leave," Dave said, his voice cold. "And never come back here."

The thug didn't wait a second. He immediately got up and scurried away, abandoning his helpless friends.

Dave turned towards the old man lying on the ground. The old man looked to be in a lot of pain, clutching his bleeding arm and bruised head.

"Are you okay, sir?" Dave asked, kneeling beside him.

The old man coughed. "I'm fine, son. But my merchandise is ruined."

Dave examined the old man's injuries. There was a gash on his arm and a bruise on his temple. Dave immediately pulled out a small bottle from his jacket pocket, containing a self-made herbal salve. This salve was one of his fast-healing concoctions.

The salve was cold at first touch, then felt warm. In the blink of an eye, the gash began to close. The bleeding stopped, and his skin became smooth again, as if it had never been injured. Dave applied a little to the old man's temple, and the bruise faded quickly.

The old man's eyes widened, staring at his arm. "My wound is gone!"

He touched his temple. "The bruise is gone too! Is this magic?!"

Dave smiled. "Not magic, sir. It's medicine."

The old man looked at Dave with awe. "You saved my shop, and you healed me! I owe you, son!"

Suddenly, the old man started coughing, a severe, hacking cough. "My asthma's acting up."

Dave observed the old man. He pulled out a small pill from his pocket. "Here, sir. Swallow this."

The old man hesitated, but he had already seen the miracles Dave performed. He swallowed the pill. A few seconds later, his coughing subsided. His breathing became easier.

"I can breathe better!" he exclaimed, surprised. "My asthma feels significantly relieved!"

"That's only temporary," Dave said. "You still need to be careful."

The old man stood up, looking at Dave with eyes full of gratitude. "I don't know how to repay your kindness, son. You've saved my life, and my livelihood too."

"No need, sir," Dave said. "I just did what was right."

"No, no!" The old man insisted. "I must give you something. Wait a moment."

The old man went into his messy shop. Dave followed him. The old man rummaged through piles of scattered junk.

Finally, he found something. A small urn, made of dull-looking, ugly clay. Its surface was rough, its color grayish-brown, and it had no decorations whatsoever. The urn looked like a worthless piece of junk, something that might even be found in the trash.

"Here, son," the old man said, handing the urn to Dave. "This is for you, as a token of my gratitude."

Dave looked at the urn. He chuckled slightly. The urn indeed looked very ugly. But he didn't want to offend the old man.

"Thank you, sir," Dave said, accepting the urn.

As his hand touched the urn, something extraordinary happened. A powerful, cold energy flowed from the urn into Dave's palm. In an instant, a flurry of images and information flashed through Dave's mind. He could see the urn's history.

The urn was not an ordinary clay pot. It was the "Soul Guardian Urn," an ancient artifact created thousands of years ago by a legendary hermit. The urn served as a vessel to store spiritual energy and had the ability to absorb and purify negative energy. It can also be used to store powerful potions so that they do not lose their properties. The urn has passed through many hands, witnessed many historical events, and held many secrets. Its value cannot be measured in money. It is a very precious artifact.