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(GENERAL )
Name : Ken
Age : 19
Level: 2
(STATS)
STR: 10
AGI: 10
VIT: 20
INT: 3
WILL: 4
CHA: 6
(SKILLS)
Devour : 10/10
Basic Street Combat: 9/10
Basic Weapon Handling: 7/10
Basic Free-Running: 8/10
(TRAITS)
Predator's Instinct
Bottomless Appetite
(POINTS)
Attribute Points : 5
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'This is easy to understand,'
When his finger hovered over Predator's Instinct, the line lit up.
Curious, he tapped it.
[Skill: Passive]
[Your mind reclassifies all life as prey.]
[Removes hesitation, fear, and guilt when hunting and feeding.]
'So that's why eating human remains didn't bother me. '
It muted his emotions—guilt, fear, disgust.
Honestly, he was thankful for that. He didn't want to deal with the usual nonsense—questions about morality, about whether he was still human, or if eating people made him a monster.
The truth was, he already made a deal with the devil. No turning back. No second-guessing.
'I wonder what my face looks like now?'
He touched his face first, fingers tracing along the skin. The jagged, sharp teeth were still there, and so was the line running from his jaw up toward his ears.
Speaking wasn't a problem, as long as the mouth didn't open too wide.
Gazing down, he noticed that his skin was much paler now, with patches of black scattered along it—like some anaemic kid covered in bruises.
'Yeah, better stick to a jacket... and find a face mask while I'm at it.'
Although looking like a monster didn't bother him, living in a city made things complicated. It would be hard to move around with a face straight out of a horror house.
Moving on, he tapped Bottomless Appetite.
The ability was simple enough. Each time he ate, he got stronger buy converting vitality into experience points.
Then there was Devour.
This one was very useful. Just a single touch let him absorb a corpse—quick, clean, and efficient.
But there was a catch.
It only gave experience. If hunger kicked in, manual consumption was still necessary.
Not that it mattered anyway—humans were just food to him now.
Done with traits and skills, he turned his focus to attributes.
'Interesting… so not all attributes cost the same amount of points.'
Strength, Agility, and Vitality followed a simple one-to-one ratio.
Charisma needed four points just to go up once.
Intelligence and Willpower were even worse—ten points for a single increase.
Just as he was contemplating how to distribute his points, distant sirens echoed through the streets.
So much for taking his time.
Immediately, he climbed a one-story building and pulled himself onto the roof.
His breath stayed steady, eyes scanning the dark skyline. Up here, he could move faster, jump between roofs, and avoid the eyes on the ground.
Fighting the police wasn't an option—not yet. He was only level two, and most of his skills were still at the basic stage.
If things spiralled out of control and gunfire broke out, he would be cornered. Overwhelmed. Dead before he even got close to finding his sister.
Now that he calmed down, he realised that he made an error in his judgement.
He should have asked about the Serpentel gang—where they stayed, who they answered to, anything useful.
Emotions got the better of him. And in this kind of world, that kind of slip could cost more than just time.
'It's fine… there'll be more of them out there,'
As he ran across the rooftops, he spotted clothes hanging to dry—a gray jacket and a pair of pants.
He grabbed them, stripping off his bloody clothing and changing quickly.
Once dressed, he touched his face, wondering if it had returned to normal.
The crack was still there, so he grabbed a small handkerchief and tied it around the lower half of his face to cover it up.
'Yeah… jacket, mask, and I'll blend in just fine,'
While moving, he opened the menu and started assigning his attribute points. He placed all five points into it.
His muscles began to itch as the changes settled in. He clenched his fist, testing the new strength. It felt different—stronger for sure—but nowhere near the 50% boost he expected.
'Diminishing returns'
Just like at the gym, the more progress an individual made, the harder it became to keep growing.
'It's still very fast'
Even with diminishing returns, it beat normal training.
A few blocks later, he spotted five gangster running through a back alley.
He dropped down from above, slamming two heads into the pavement before they even noticed him.
Ken stepped over the bodies and snatched a machete from one of the fallen gangsters.
Without breaking momentum, he slashed the next two clean across the chest. Both collapsed before they even had a chance to scream.
The last one turned and bolted down the alley.
"Get back here!" Ken swung low. The blade tore into the back of the knee.
Before the man could crawl far, Ken stepped in and drove his heel down on the wounded leg—once, twice—crushing the muscles beneath.
"STOP!!!!" The guy howled in pain, dragging himself back with his arms.
Ken stepped forward, grabbed the downed man by the hair, and yanked his head up.
"Where's Don? Where's your boss hiding?"
The man trembled. His mouth opened, but only stuttering breath came out.
"I—I don't—"
Ken's fist answered first. The punch landed square across the face, cracking bone and spraying blood against the alley wall.
He held back from a second strike. Any more, and the guy might pass out before saying anything useful.
"This is your only chance. Talk, and I will let you live."