Klaus lay on his bed, the soft. His gaze was fixed on the shimmering blue panel that floated above him, specifically on the newest addition to his skill set.
The Dire wolf, an unexpected challenge in the D-Rank assessment, had given him more than just another notch on his belt.
Swift Step (D): Your reaction speed and burst movement receive a notable enhancement. You gain an uncanny ability to dart, weave, and slip through tight spaces or past dangers. This skill allows for sudden bursts of speed and nimble changes in direction. Agility stat is double the physical stats.
And below it, he noticed the addition of a substat on his panel.
>agility - 2x 29 >> 58]
He could feel the difference, even after lying still. His leg muscles now felt coiled and springy, their outlines more sharply defined beneath his skin. A strange, almost electrical hum thrummed just beneath the surface, a readiness for explosive movement.
He flexed his calves, and the sensation intensified, it wasn’t a flat bonus, but a multiplier, meaning the stronger his base physique became, the more potent his Swift Step would be.
He closed his eyes, replaying the fluid movements he had seen by the Dire Wolf, its body reacting with a speed and grace that if he had not used his hunter’s instincts then he would be dead meat. The future, with this cheat, was starting to look very different indeed.
A soft knock on his door pulled him from his reverie. It was the room service working at the inn asking for laundry.
After the man left Klaus decided to head down to the dining area. He asked for a cup of coffee which helped him return to normalcy after the tiring day.
He settled into his usual chair, sipping the warm mild coffee the sweet bitterness a pleasant counterpoint to the lingering adrenaline. The people around him engaged in their usual banter, but a fragment of their conversation snagged his attention, drawing him in.
"...and then they say, the symbols glowed black, like burnt embers. Must be the demon worshipers again" one person mused, stirring his tea thoughtfully.
Another scoffed gently. "Oh, hush, Robert. It’s just more rumors. Every few years, some cult pops up claiming to worship demons. It’s always the same story. People with too much time and not enough common sense."
"But this time, Sarah, the police are taking it seriously. Three disappearances in the last week, all linked to those strange black markings. Even the news is starting to whisper about it," the man said,
his brow furrowed. "Demons... who knows, right? This world’s full of wonders, as you always say."
Klaus listened, a shiver running down his spine despite the warmth of the tea.
Demons, the word itself felt like something out of the web novels he devoured, not real life. But then, a Strange Panel, divine-ranked skills, absorbing traits from dead creatures – that too had been the stuff of fiction until recently. He discreetly glanced around the familiar, cozy dining room, a fleeting sense of unease settling in.
The world felt thinner, more permeable, to the impossible now. He finished his tea, the conversation fading into the background of his thoughts as he considered the implications of such an organization.
The day passed in a blur of small chores, a quick napping session in his room, testing the newfound swift step, and planning his next move to gain Academy access.
By evening, a familiar restlessness settled in. The recent days had been quite stressful, and the sheer mental strain of constant vigilance. He needed a break.
Klaus decided to skip visiting the Gate for now, he decided a simple night walk would be good for his mental health.
He stepped out, the cool evening air making contact with his skin. The city, even in the residential district, hummed with life. He walked aimlessly at first, enjoying the muted glow of streetlights and the distant murmur of traffic. His path led him towards the market district, not for shopping, but for the comforting anonymity of a crowd.
The alleyways here were usually vibrant, lit by neon signs from late-night eateries and filled with the chatter of people winding down their day. He strolled past one, catching glimpses of laughing groups and the inviting aroma of street food.
Eventually, as he walked around in his thoughts he veered off, taking a turn down a narrower, darker side street he hadn’t noticed before. This alley was different. The lights thinned, the sounds faded, replaced by the soft echo of his footsteps on the uneven pavement.
A prickle of unease ran up his spine. This wasn’t the quiet solitude he sought; this was emptiness, a vacuum where the city’s vibrant life simply ceased to be. He paused, the back of his neck tingling. This place was a bit too deserted for its proximity to the central market.
Klaus decided to turn his steps back but when he was about to do so a sound was heard a strange, wet squeak, followed by a horrible, tearing rip.
It was too distinct, too visceral, to be dismissed as the rustle of trash or a stray animal. It was the sound of flesh.
His curiosity resisted his urge to flee. But Klaus had some skills for self-defense now.
With deliberate, cautious steps, he moved deeper into the oppressive darkness, towards the source of that sickening sound.
What he saw froze the blood in his veins, rendering him stunned. The alley opened into a small grimy space, illuminated by the sickly yellow glow of a flickering industrial light.
And in that light, a scene of unimaginable horror unfolded. A man, tall and menacing, his face obscured by a grotesque, horned demon mask of polished black, stood over a figure.
His grip was clamped around the neck of a teen girl, her body already limp. In his other hand, a knife, long and gleaming, was slick with a fresh, horrifying coat of blood.
The girl’s eyes were wide, vacant, staring up at nothing. Her midsection was a nightmare of torn flesh, her guts spilling out in a horrifying, glistening cascade onto the filthy concrete.
Klaus’s breath hitched, turning into a ragged gasp. His heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic drumbeat of terror. His legs, usually so quick and responsive, felt like lead, shaking uncontrollably beneath him. His mind screamed, a wordless shriek of pure, unadulterated fear.
This was it again. Death he had felt earlier in the mutated gate. And this time, he was a witness, a lamb led to slaughter. He was terrified.
The man in the demon mask slowly turned his head, a chillingly casual movement. His masked face tilted as if assessing a bothersome insect.
"Well, well, another rat walked in. I’ll have to deal with it before it makes a noise." The voice was low, devoid of emotion, yet it carried an unnerving, almost playful undertone.
The words snapped Klaus out of his frozen terror, replacing it with a panicked, desperate surge of adrenaline. He didn’t think; he just ran. His legs, despite their earlier tremor, churned, his Swift Step momentarily kicking in with frantic, uncoordinated bursts of speed.
He bolted back the way he came, the horrifying image of the girl’s ruined body seared into his mind, the casual cruelty of the masked man a cold knot in his stomach.
He ran, but the sound of footsteps, impossibly fast, echoed behind him. This was it. Again. The same feeling of powerlessness, the same primal fear that had consumed him before his cheat awakened.
He was running for his life, just like last time, just as pathetic, just as utterly, completely helpless. He had a cheat, a divine skill, and abilities, but here he was, still running, still a victim. The realization struck him like a physical blow, even more painful than the raw terror.
He was a coward. A pathetic, terrified coward who couldn’t even use his cheat to save himself, let alone anyone else.
The footsteps closed in rapidly. A sudden, searing pain exploded across his back as a dagger sliced through his jacket, tearing skin and muscle. He stumbled, a strangled cry escaping his lips, his body twisting from the impact. The man had caught him. He was going to die.
But as he fell, a new sensation pierced through the white-hot agony. It wasn’t just fear. It was something else.
A burning, desperation to run away and avoid this danger from the depths of his "Roach" trait, A stubborn sensation to just avoid danger and run for his life, a pathetic feeling of cowardice filled him.
Klaus was furious at this feeling, he refused to accept this. He refused to be this pathetic, helpless, terrified victim again. He refused to die , unable to fight back.
He was fighting the very essence of his Roach (B) trait, demanding action, demanding a struggle for every last breath.
He wasn’t going to run anymore. He would retaliate.
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