Chapter 50: Great Potential
"Ironclad Redcoat," George said with a smirk. "A set of comprehensive combat techniques developed by the Albion Army. I never had the honor of serving myself, but our Commander did. And he’s the one who passed this combat discipline to all of us."
With that said, his expression turned solemn.
He took a deep breath and then as he exhaled, he let out a solid right jab. He followed it with a left jab. Ultimately, finishing it with a right leg side kick.
After only executing three strikes, George started to frown. "What was that?" He turned to Hugh Preston and asked incredulously, "Commander, do you see that?"
Hugh, like George, also had a deep frown on his face.
To be honest, he could not believe what he was seeing. He turned to George and gestured, "Continue. Display all the techniques of the Ironclad Redcoat. There’s something I need to confirm."
George nodded. He then got back into a horse stance and shot a right jab, followed by a left, followed by a right leg side kick, then pivoted from there and used his left leg to deliver a reverse roundhouse kick.
Whether it was a jab, a hook, an elbow, a kick, or a knee, Abel mirrored each and every one of his techniques!
Everything, down to the smallest movements, was perfectly mimicked by the youth. The only difference was that whatever he copied was reversed.
Meaning, that if George displayed a right jab, he would display a left jab. If George delivered a right hook kick, he would display a left hook kick.
It was as if Abel was a living mirror that reflected each and every one of George’s movements!
Not even a minute had passed and George had to stop because what he was witnessing was simply unbelievable.
"Is that... how you managed to fight your enemy inside the Spirit Crucible?!" He asked with a stunned look on his face.
Abel’s pupils returned to normal, and he found himself slightly gasping for air. "Yeah, pretty much," he said with a light shrug.
Resting his hands on his knees, he sighed, "Man, that was tiresome."
He turned to look at Hugh and asked, "Commander, what do you think? This is one of the abilities of my Hallmark."
Hugh Preston was still standing with his arms crossed, however, his expression was unreadable. He shook his head, sighing in disbelief. "Abel, I don’t know what to think..."
He paused for a moment, his lips curling into a smile. "As expected of an Aberrant-type. This is truly a bizarre ability. At first, I assumed it would take you months to grasp the basics of Ironclad Redcoat, given your lack of prior combat experience.
"But now... I’m starting to think you might pick up the fundamentals in a week. And if you truly mimic these techniques as precisely as it seems... you might just master Ironclad Redcoat in a month or two."
"Really?" Abel was ecstatic.
He was also beginning to realize just how handy this ability of his would be in the future.
The youth had seen enough animes in his past life.
If he could replicate the combat techniques of those whom he fought or witnessed, didn’t that mean he would be able to learn several fighting techniques in very little time?
However, two key factors would determine the results.
First, it would depend on whether the original user performed the techniques at its highest level.
Second, it would be his own potential and how efficiently he was able to mimic said techniques.
After all, if the original user executed a sloppy version of a technique, then he would only be able to mimic the same sloppy version.
Unless he turned out to be a prodigy when it came to combat and enhanced to perfection even a sloppy technique that he mimicked.
"Indeed," Hugh revealed a faint smile. The next moment, his expression turned solemn. "However, just because your ability shortens the time it takes for you to learn a technique doesn’t mean you can afford complacency. Understood?"
"Yes, sir!" Abel straightened his back, nodding in all seriousness.
"Every time you step into this training hall, you must be diligent and disciplined," Hugh instructed the youth. He then added, "Alongside your combat training, you need to focus on building your strength. Your stamina is lacking."
He paused briefly before his gaze hardened. "Always remember this, Abel. No matter how extraordinary your Hallmark abilities are, if your foundation is weak, you will never execute the techniques you mirror to its fullest potential.
"And the only way to build that foundation is through relentless strength training!"
"Yes, sir! I will not let you down!" Abel sincerely said, straightening his back even more.
Seeing this, Hugh revealed a faint smile. "Good lad."
He turned to George and instructed, "Start with the fundamentals. Take him through basic strength training drills, then move on to mobility exercises. Once that’s done, demonstrate all the Ironclad Redcoat techniques a few more times. After that, let’s see how well he performs on his own."
"Yes, Commander!" George nodded.
"Alright then, you two gentlemen carry on. I shall take my leave." With that said, Hugh walked to the other secret entrance at the far end of the training hall.
Pushing it open, he stepped onto the stairwell that wound its way up to the ground floor of building.
...
Knock! Knock!
"Sir, may I come in?" Hugh respectfully stood outside John Kensington’s office on the third floor.
After receiving an affirmative answer, he entered the main office. There, he saw John Kensington wearing gold-rimmed spectacles and reading a leather-bound book.
The man silently stood with his back straight and hands clasped behind his back, not making the faintest of sound.
A few seconds later, John Kensington placed the book on the table and turned his attention to the Commander of the Security & Special Operations team. "Sit."
"Thank you, sir."
After he’d taken his seat, John asked him, "What is it?"
"Sir, it is about Abel Bishop," Hugh answered respectfully.
He held John Kensington in great esteem. After all, the old man had served in the Albion Army, just as he had.
In many ways, Hugh respected him more as a soldier, than as an Occultist.
"Oh?" John Kensington picked up the cigar he had earlier placed on the ashtray. "What about him?"
"Sir, it is about Hallmark abilities," Hugh Preston answered solemnly. "It appears that he can mimic the abilities he witnesses as well."
John’s eyebrow rose in slight surprise, "Is that so?"
"Yes, sir." Hugh nodded. "He flawlessly mirrored the Ironclad Redcoat techniques George demonstrated."
"Hmm." John Kensington nodded, exhaling a plume of smoke.
He looked at Hugh and revealed a faint smile. "Well, I had my suspicions. Otherwise, it would not make sense for him to have survived the First Trial without any prior combat experience."
"Indeed, sir. Abel did mention that he mirrored the combat techniques of whoever he fought." He paused for a moment before adding, "To be able to mimic techniques in the heat of battle... that is truly something else."
"Yes," said John. "It would appear he has great potential."
Hugh silently nodded. He understood that the potential the Director spoke of did not stem solely from Abel’s Hallmark but from the raw talent that lay dormant within him.
"Keep me updated on his progress, Preston."
"Understood, sir!" Hugh respectfully nodded. He then got to his feet and took his leave.
"Mirrors..." John Preston muttered under his breath, his gaze distant and unreadable. "In occultism, they are said to be gateways to realms unseen."
A shadow of thought surfaced in his mind before he muttered, almost to himself, "But they are also said to contain infinite mysteries and unimaginable horrors!"