Chapter 3) You Should've Killed Me
The streets were bleeding orange as the dying moon gave way to another cruel morning.
The alley stank of rot and piss.
I could barely move.
My body was like a collection of broken bones held together by raw will and cracked skin. Every nerve screamed. Every breath felt like I was swallowing glass.
Home was far. Too far.
And I didn't care anymore.
I stopped walking. My legs trembled beneath me.
Then I laughed. Loud. Ugly.
"Thinkin' about consequences?" I muttered. "Pfft… Consequences? Hahahahahahaha! That's never been my style."
I turned.
I walked back.
---
The bar was still loud when I pushed open the door.
But the moment I stepped in, silence.
The music cut. Cards dropped. Cups froze halfway to mouths.
They stared.
Some whispered.
"Is that the same guy from last night?"
"What the hell, wasn't he crawling away half-dead?"
"Does he have a death wish?"
I didn't say anything. I walked. Limped. Half-dragged myself through the center of the bar.
All I saw was him.
Marlo.
Still seated. Surrounded by his usual pack of bottom-feeders. He raised his eyes lazily when he noticed me.
Then he stood.
The floor creaked beneath him. The bar seemed smaller now, like his presence alone made the walls shrink.
He walked toward me slowly. His steps were like thunder in my ears.
When he stopped in front of me, he didn't need to raise his voice.
"You've got one more chance, kid," he said. "What the hell do you want? Answer wrong, and I make sure there's not enough of you left to bury."
I smiled.
Split lips, cracked jaw, pain in every inch of my body, but still, I smiled.
"Your arm. And your leg, you piece of shit."
The entire room went still.
A hum started to rise, no, not sound. Pressure.
Like gravity was being cranked up.
People backed away instinctively. Some hit the walls. Glasses cracked on their own. The walls of the bar moaned under the weight of Marlo's aura.
I couldn't even move anymore.
Then…
Absolute Darkness.
---
Cael lay on the floor like a ragged puppet.
His limbs, once barely functional, were now gone entirely, ripped from his body like weeds torn by a storm.
There was no screaming. No blood-curdling cry. Just silence. Everyone in the bar knew what had happened. And none dared stop it.
Marlo sat down calmly and took a drink.
"Toss that meat out. It's stinkin' up my mood."
One of his men obeyed without a word.
They dumped the body in a back-alley garbage pit. A place where forgotten things go to decay.
But just before dawn broke, when rats scattered and the sky turned the color of rust..
DING.
> [SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
"Critical threshold surpassed. Too much has been lost."
[+6 STR]
[+4 VIT]
[+7 WILL]
Passive Ability Gained: Phantom Root: Passive Regrowth Protocol
Your pain has rooted itself into the code of survival. Your body will regrow what has been torn away. No conscious control required. Effect accelerates with trauma.
---
I opened my eyes.
Everything hurt, but not as much as it should.
I sat up. Slowly. My head was pounding like a drum in a war parade. My ears rang. But something was off.
I looked down.
My arms and legs, they were there.
Complete. Clean. Untouched.
I blinked. Was I dreaming?
I reached for the system interface.
Nothing.
It didn't open.
I sighed, shaking my head. I wasn't surprised. The damn system seemed to come and go like a drunk god.
That's when I heard them.
Laughter. Footsteps.
A small group of local bastards, maybe two or three years older than me, walked past. Loud, confident, careless. I hated their type.
And maybe because I hated myself too in that moment, I spoke.
"I laughed too... when I saw your…"
I stopped.
Too late.
They turned around.
"What did you just say?" one asked.
He stepped toward me.
I said nothing.
I already knew what was coming.
The first fist hit my ribs.
The second broke my nose.
The third kicked me in the side and rolled me across the concrete.
I curled up and let it happen.
This time… I wanted to see something.
"Yo, we're late," one of them finally said. "Forget him. Let's go."
They ran off, still laughing.
I lay there for a while.
Then…
> [SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
Minor Physical Trauma Detected.
[+1 STR]
[+1 DEX]
[+25 EXP]
I laughed.
Softly. Bloody.
Opened the interface manually.
It worked.
There it was, glowing faintly:
Phantom Root – Lv. 1
I clicked it.
> "This passive ability allows full limb and organ regeneration when trauma exceeds the survival threshold. Triggered automatically. Golden light will indicate activation. Host need not be conscious. Note: each re-growth strengthens the structure."
I stared at the screen.
My fingers trembled, not from fear. Not from weakness.
But from something else entirely.
Excitement.
I wasn't supposed to be alive.
I shouldn't be able to move.
But here I was. Walking death. An ugly, stitched-together promise of revenge.
Was it because of Marlo? That aura? That moment? Did it awaken something?
Doesn't matter.
I clenched my fists.
Not because I wanted justice.
Not because I was a hero.
No.
I just didn't want to die before I got what I wanted.
"As long as I can keep breathing…" I whispered, "…I gain more power, you bastards".