Chapter 2: ~One Dark And Windy Day~
Chuckling at his incredible naming sense, Clint admired the gun that he knew was finally finished.
~Finish and Lock?~
The voice suddenly whispered in his head, startling him.
His smirk of admiration turned into a sigh of resignation. 'Figures… I had my suspicions, but I had hopes that I would still be able to use this shape-shifting property even after I left. Unfortunately, it seems my common sense came through this time. Oh well.'
"Yes." He called out to the whisper.
Suddenly Eastwood started glowing bright white light, similar to the other objects in the room, before the color changed to gold for a split second and the light dimmed.
"Huh… Well that was anticlimactic. I was expecting a little more than a light show, but I guess this makes just as much sense as what I was thinkin' of. Anywho, let's move on to these other goodies on the table, shall we Eastwood?" He walked back over to the table—which he had moved away from while testing—and picked up the next object.
~Armor~
The voice whispered. "I see, but if this object is armor, then the manikin must be…" His eyes trailed up to the manikin, not quite sure whether he like the thought or not.
Eventually, he shrugged his shoulders. "Oh well, I can worry about that later, for now, I've got these two shiny's on the table."
He turned his attention back to the object in his hand and began experimenting.
Now that he knew most of the general rules—or at least he thought he did—it was much quicker to make his armor than it was Eastwood.
'I've got the gun, I've got the skills, I've got the western accent, and I've got the name, so it would be a huge missed opportunity to not go with a cowboy build. Always liked that type of movie anyway, even if they are a bit old-fashioned by now.' Clint focused his mind and got to work.
The armor object, as it turned out, could actually turn into multiple different things, so long as those things actually counted as armor or clothing. He could make a hat and vest, for example, but not a watch or a holster. It wasn't too much of a problem though, as he knew how to work with leather from one of the jobs he got as a teenager, so if he could get his hands on some then he could just make his own holster. The watch would be a different beast entirely, but he would leave that for future Clint to deal with.
In the end, he got eight pieces of clothing.
He had long, dark-brown, steel-toed boots that ran up to just below his knees. They had silver spurs at the bottom, like any good cowboy boots, and nice, light-brown wavy patterned cuff around the ankle area. They were upgraded to be water-proof, invincible, have a strong grip to make sure they don't slide, be completely silent—even the spurs—so long as he walked on his toes, be comfortable on the inside, and weigh practically nothing. Most of the upgrades save the invincibility and quietness came from newer technology that he knew of, which was basically just new advancements in soft-exoskeleton technology, which before a few years ago consisted mostly of those weird belts people used in gyms to increase their deadlift weight.
The next piece he got was a pair of socks, white with grey toes and heels. They were also water-proof and invincible, but for these, he added more quality-of-life upgrades, since socks were very important to one's comfort. His socks were now also breathable enough that it was like he wasn't even wearing them, but resistant enough that he wouldn't cut his foot if he walked without his boots. They also regulated his foot temperature, kept bacteria out, and automatically cleaned themselves, something of which he had no idea the mechanics of. If something like that did fall under the laws of physics, he doubted humanity would ever find out, since advancements in sock technology were pretty rare, all things considered…
Next were his pants and shirt, which both had the same upgrades. They were invincible, which he would like to clarify just meant they couldn't be destroyed, not that the person who was wearing them was also invincible. If he got stabbed with something the shirt would still mold around the blade, and he would still get cut. It wouldn't be as deep since the blade wouldn't be able to cut through the shirt, but it would still be there.
Anyhow, the two also regulated temperature like the socks, automatically cleaned themselves, were water-proof, fire-proof, extremely flexible, had soft-exoskeleton upgrades to increase his strength, and were extremely comfortable on the inside. The pants were a slightly lighter shade of brown than his boots, but not as light as the wavy pattern on the boot's ankles, with pockets on the sides, back, and down the thigh. The shirt on the other hand was a white, long-sleeve shirt with a single button collar at the neck.
Next, he had a light-brown/orange-ish leather vest, the inside being a light-tan color. It had four silver buttons up his stomach that ended at the lower part of his chest, from there the vest folded out into a collar that revealed it's tanned inside. It also had two pockets on the bottom half of the vest and one on the inside. The vest had all the standard upgrades, auto-cleaning, invincible, temperature regulation, etc… It also had upgrades that made it immune to bullets, slashes, tears, stabs, and more, at the cost of it being a lot less flexible.
He had gloves, one was a fingerless grey glove that ended about two inches above his wrist, the other was a thick, brown leather glove as dark as his boots that ended just above his wrist, leather tie strings handing off one side. They both had reinforced knuckles for when he felt like punching someone in the face. One was obviously for his off-hand while the other was for his gun hand. They were both upgraded with the regular things, along with a few upgrades to help his wrist and bones endure punching things without breaking. They also increased his grip strength and the leather one was as resistant as his vest.
Next was his scarf, which he made of a long, raggy, light-red linen. It, alongside the usual upgrades, had the added bonus of filtering out anything if he breathed through it and being able to naturally stick to his face without slipping down if he needed it to.
Finally was the piece that brought it all together, the cowboy hat. It was a pretty standard design, dark-brown with light brown trim, much like his boots. The only interesting thing about it was the golden horseshoe in the middle. It had all the standard designs too, as well as the ability to stick to his head unless he pried it off on purpose, but it came with the unique ability to make his eyes shadow over if he tilted it forward a bit.
That last part was just for dramatics—after all, he's trying to have fun with it.
He would have added a belt too, but apparently, that counts as an accessory like the watch.
He probably could have added a bunch more abilities to everything, but honestly? That seemed like such a hassle. Plus, he didn't want to walk around wearing the same clothes all the time, and if he made these TOO good then he would become reluctant to change out of them. He also may come to rely on them a little too much if that were the case, and he doesn't want that.
Chances are, he'll lose everything he gets here at some point or another, by sheer virtue of being a human being. That's why he put the fail-safe into his gun to ensure only he could use it. He didn't think he would be able to do the same with his clothes as you can't really "stop" someone from using them.
Dressing in his new get-up, he couldn't help but do a few practice kicks to the air once he felt how flexible everything was. He barely felt like he was wearing anything!
Taking out Eastwood, he fired a few rounds into the wall with his offhand in his pocket. As childish as it sounded, he couldn't help but feel like a badass. He may have handled weapons, fought hundreds of people with them, killed, and tons of other shit, but none of that ever really felt as fantastical as what was happening to him now. It was like he was living out one of his childhood dreams.
"Alright Clint, snap out of it, you've still got two more things to get through before you find out what's goin' on with all this magic shit. Hopefully, this really is a ROB or some wizards, I'd be mighty disappointed to find out that this was a simulation or somethin'. Ah well, couldn't do anything if it was, so might as well not think about it." Clint spoke to himself and possibly whichever entity was watching him as he walked back up to the table for a fourth time and took the final object on it.
~Magic~
The whisper brought a smile to his face.
"Well, isn't that somethin'? I guess whoever brought me here really does like me. Or, they at least need me for somethin', don't know what yet. Now, how does this magic work?" Clint mumbled as he began to experiment.
Unlike the weapon, where he could only have one thing, or the clothes, where he could have any number of things so long as they were actually clothes and all fit on his body at once, the magic was different. He could have two 'spells', if that's what you want to call them. One seemed to have to be combat oriented, and the other seemed to have to be anything else.
He could choose any ability he wanted for the first spell, so long as it was mainly a combat ability. For the second spell, he could also choose anything he wanted, so long as it WASN'T a combat ability.
While he could make himself into what would basically be a god using this, he has no desire to do that. He wasn't some edge lord with a god complex, he could live with being weaker than other people and had no desire to be the strongest. He just wanted to have a good time.
Giving himself something like reality warping, for example, would basically be like turning on the cheats in a video game. Have you ever tried to play a game with cheats on? It's not fun; in fact, it's the opposite of fun. It's boring as hell.
So, even though this is the opportunity of a lifetime, Clint wasn't about to make himself into some all-powerful deity. No reality warping, no fundamental force manipulation, none of the Os, just something he thought would be fun.
'I probably don't need this, since I already have a gun, and gettin' this would be redundant, but it would so fun to have, and how could I call myself a fan of them if I don't get it? Besides, no other ability in the series fits nearly as well as this one does with my cowboy build, so I feel obligated to stick with it.' Clint monologued to himself as he played the pronoun game, using his thought control to make sure nobody who may be listening in would know his ability.
'As for the second spell, well, I just need something that cleans me. My clothes already clean themselves, and Eastwood doesn't need it, but I still don't know where I'm goin', and if I end up in some primitive world it would suck having to walk around without being able to brush my teeth or wipe my ass.' He thought as he created the spell easily with a thought, using the other half of the magic object.
His second spell simply allowed him to clean things completely and restore them to top condition. If he used it on a piece of furniture, for example, it would restore the furniture to its cleanest and best condition, as if it was brand new. If he used it on himself, it would be like he just walked out of the shower, it would clean his entire body, inside and out, getting rid of anything on or inside him that's undesirable (like poison), and restoring him to his peak condition. It also would get rid of anything in his bladder and bowels, so if he used the spell before a fight, he wouldn't have to worry about being distracted by needing to use the restroom.
It probably could have restored nutrients into his body too, carbs, protein, vitamins, and such, but he didn't want to give himself a reason to stop eating. Meals were a lot tastier when you actually needed them, and he wasn't about to ruin that for himself.
Testing the spell out on himself, he felt his body suddenly loosen up a bit, as if he had just gotten out of the shower. His mouth felt crisp and clean like he had just brushed his teeth and flossed for an hour, and his beard receded from its previous two inches long down to a half inch, just the way he liked it. His hair even moved out of his eyes without him touching it.
'This might be the best I've felt in years! This magic business is great! I don't know where I'll be ended up next, or who I'll have to fight, but even if I end up dyin', I'll die happy knowing I died bein' able to cast magic spells…' His inner monologue slowed as his eyes landed on the last object.
The table had disappeared the second he had locked in his magic, leaving only him and the glowing manikin in the room.
Shaking his head, Clint gazed intensely at the manikin. "I don't know how I feel about you… Know what? How's about I actually check if I'm right before I start complainin'."
Placing his hand on the manikin's chest, he began imagining a picture in his head, and the manikin responded. It morphed into a perfect replica of himself…
~Body~
"*Sigh*, I guess I was right… I really don't want to give up my body, but you're not gonna let me leave this place until I lock everything in, are ya' Rob?" At this point, Clint knew for certain that what he was dealing with was a ROB. Unless a bunch of wizards had the power to give out reality-breaking powers and new bodies, in which case they would be ROB's anyway, he doubted that he was dealing with your average wizard, if such a thing existed.
"Ah well, might as well go along with it. If I can upgrade this body like I did the weapons and armor, then I'm about to have a whole lot of fun. I'll keep my normal looks though, just enhance them a bit." Clint spoke to himself and the ROB that he knew was probably listening.
He began molding the face first. He didn't change too much from his original looks, just as he said he wouldn't, all he did was make his jawline a little stronger, and make his eyes a little greener. His hair was still a blonde color, long and running down to his shoulders. He still had two, long scars down the left side of his face from the time he was attacked by a wolf as a teenager when he was out hunting with his dad. He still had larger, round eyes that shone with an eerie green, and tan skin from his long days out in the sun.
Next he moved onto the body, which he obviously changed to be taller, thicker, and more muscular. He never had the chance to build that much muscle, even in his youth, since he never had much time to exercise, eat, and sleep to the degrees that were needed to maintain a body like the one he had just designed. His new body would be 6ft 11, packed with muscle, with a body fat percentage of 15%. The body was heavily inspired by his favorite anime character, Ban from Seven Deadly Sins. It wasn't overly muscular like Escanor or a Baki character, but it wasn't some wimp physique like those swimmer bodies that everybody and their mother is fond of for some reason.
He also kept the body fat percentage at 15% for a reason. As cool as lower body fat percentages looked, they were impractical. Most of those bodybuilders you see on TV and on the internet with body fat percentages in 10% region? Yeah, they are always cold, and always hungry, and if they want to maintain their body, they're not allowed to eat. Clint wasn't about to put himself through that for mere aesthetics.
As for the upgrades he could provide his body with, he discovered that they needed to be biologically possible, so he couldn't add free flight like a Viltrumite, or tactile telekinesis like a Kryptonian. He could add more powerful muscles though, which he did. He was able to change the structure and density of the muscles, tendons, bones, and such to be much more powerful than they should have been. He had no idea how strong he would be now but imagined he would be able to at least lift a car.
He also made sure to increase the stamina and endurance of the body as much as he could, making it go well past the world record. He could probably run for weeks so long as he ate and drank while running. He then increased the survivability of the body so he could get thrown around and into walls like an anime character, but not die like a real person would.
He increased the regeneration, vitality, immunity, resistance, and metabolic process of the body to their highest limits as well, so he would have to die in combat, not to some random disease or cancer or something.
Finally, he increased his body's senses, perception speed, memory, processing speed, and other such nervous system functions. He didn't increase a few things like memory too much, since he didn't want it to affect his personality, but he did increase everything else to their limit.
He should be able to see with the eyes of an eagle, see in the dark and increase the light visible to his eyes, and see in slow motion if he felt like it. He had learned echolocation a long time ago for the fun of it, but it was kind of useless to him until now, when he increased his hearing to the point where he could hear a person's heartbeat from across the room. His sense of touch was enhanced too, but only a little bit as a higher sense of touch would mean a higher sense of pain, which—while he had a high pain tolerance—he wasn't stupid enough to test. His sense of smell should be as good as a dog now, and taste should be like a snakes.
He was also able to increase the more specific senses, like his sense of balance and time, so he wouldn't fall over or get disoriented from spinning anymore, and he would almost always know the time. He was even able to increase his ability to sense people's gazes on him.
"Well, I may not like havin' to leave my body, but this… this is good enough for me. At least I get to walk around as a superhuman now, that'll be fun—even if I know that the things that exist wherever I'm goin' next will probably be stronger." Clint said with satisfaction as he looked upon his new body.
'Alright, is that everything I wanted to add? I look good now, and should probably be strong and durable enough to not die immediately when I arrive at wherever I end up next. Hmm… Oh! I know just the thing!' Quickly, Clint made a last-minute change, elongating and sharpening his ears.
'I always liked how them elves looked in Lord of the Rings, and I gotta say, it looks good on me… This will probably be a bad idea if I end up anywhere that's racist or somethin', but if that's the case… fuck em'! I ain't gonna mold my looks just to appease some racist pricks, I like the ears, so they're stayin', and if they don't like that, then they can take it up with Eastwood here.' Clint decided as he smirked at his gun, which hadn't left his hand the entire time he was designing his clothes, magic, and body.
"Alright Rob, I think that's about it! Lock it in and take me out of here." He hollered to the walls.
He suddenly felt his body stretching and twisting, which oddly enough, wasn't that painful. It wasn't pleasant, it just felt more like when you stretch for the first time after sitting still for a real long time, with bones making cracking sounds as they popped into place.
"Ah~ Man that felt weird, but now I feel more refreshed than ever! Even that cleanin' spell didn't make me feel this… new? Reborn? I don't know what the word for it is." Clint said he rolled his shoulders and walked around a bit to get used to the new height.
~Finish?~
The whisper asked.
"Sure am Rob! Let's see what you got for me out there." Clint said with a toothy grin, adjusting his hat and making sure that Eastwood was loaded.
~Beginning Transmigration~
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone