Chapter 4: The Hunger of the Gate
The cold fire that had surged through Jonathan's veins wasn't a one-time event. It was a constant hum, a silent promise, and a terrifying demand. The morning after the cafeteria, the translucent blue screen reappeared, not with a question, but with an imperative.
GATE DETECTED.
DIFFICULTY: F-RANK.
TIME LIMIT: 6 HOURS.
FAILURE: DEACTIVATION.
Deactivation. A chilling euphemism for death, he instinctively knew. Before he could fully process it, the world around him blurred, twisted, and solidified into something utterly alien. He stood in a narrow, flickering stone corridor, the air thick with the smell of damp earth and something metallic – blood. Before him, a hulking, four-armed creature with dull grey skin and eyes like chips of obsidian snarled, its guttural growl rattling the ancient stones.
Fear, cold and sharp, seized him. This wasn't the Guild Hall. This wasn't a game.
He was in a Gate.
The System, though silent, projected knowledge directly into his mind:
* F-RANK GOBLIN BRUTE.
* WEAKNESS: NECK, JOINTS.
* REWARD: STAT POINTS, POTENTIAL SKILL UNLOCK.
His body, still weak from the poisoning, screamed in protest as he forced it into a clumsy sprint. He ducked under a wild swing, the brute's fist pulverizing the stone where his head had been. He lunged, a desperate, clumsy jab at its knee, then scrambled back, heart hammering. This was raw survival. No strategy, no planning, just instinct. After what felt like an eternity of dodging and flailing, fueled by sheer, animalistic terror, he found an opening. A lucky punch to the jaw, followed by a frantic, two-handed shove at its knee joint, sending the monster off balance. As it stumbled, he brought his foot up, driving it into the brute's exposed throat.
The creature gurgled, a wet, horrifying sound, and then collapsed, dissolving into shimmering motes of light.
GOBLIN BRUTE DEFEATED.
+5 STAT POINTS.
LEVEL UP!
A new screen appeared, displaying his stats:
JONATHAN HAVERY
RANK: 0 (INITIALIZING)
LEVEL: 1
STRENGTH: 10 (+3)
AGILITY: 10 (+1)
STAMINA: 10 (+1)
PERCEPTION: 10 (+0)
INTELLECT: 10 (+0)
AVAILABLE POINTS: 5
He slammed all five points into Strength. He couldn't afford to be weak. Not anymore.
The world blurred again, spitting him back into his bedroom, gasping, sweat-soaked, but alive.
This became his new reality for the next four days. Each morning, without fail, the Gate prompt appeared. Sometimes it was a dimly lit cavern, sometimes a rotting forest. Always, there was a monster, and always, the threat of "DEACTIVATION." He learned with a brutal efficiency born of terror. He learned to move, to strike, to endure.
His body began to change.
Day two: His arms felt heavier, more solid. A thin layer of muscle, barely perceptible, began to etch itself onto his frame. He no longer wheezed after a frantic sprint. His fists, once soft and useless, now connected with a satisfying thud against monstrous flesh. He added more points to Strength, feeling the subtle surge of power each time.
Day three: His shoulders broadened. His chest filled out. The stained hoodie, once loose, now felt snug across his expanding back. He noticed the curious glances from Liam and others at school – no longer for his insignificance, but for the subtle, unsettling shift in his presence. He was still quiet, still withdrawn, but there was a coiled tension about him, a predatory edge. His agility improved, allowing him to evade faster attacks.
Day four: His movements were fluid, precise. He killed an F-rank Ghoul in less than a minute, its diseased claws barely scratching his enhanced skin. His body was a testament to brutal efficiency: leaner, harder, faster. The gauntness was gone, replaced by a raw, compact power. His eyes, though still often quiet, now held a deep, unreadable glint. He had been a ghost, a zero. Now, he was a blade, honed in the darkness of the Gates.
And with every Gate he cleared, every monster he slaughtered, somewhere in the lightless void, a silent, satisfied smile spread across the face of Aethel the Eternal. Her seed of corruption was taking root.