Consciousness returned like surfacing through thick tar. Emma gasped, her eyes flying open to the sterile, unforgiving white of a hospital room. Disorientation warred with a deep, pervasive ache. A deluge of fragmented memories – sharp, painful shards – flooded her mind: **Emma Jackson. 17. Orphan. School Belle.** A life defined by loneliness and a target on her back. The final memory was visceral: fists, jeering faces, darkness. *Rachel Madison.*
A nurse entered, gasped, and vanished, returning with a wide-eyed doctor. His examination was thorough, his expression shifting from professional concern to profound disbelief. Charts whispered of severe trauma, potential brain damage. Yet, beneath the harsh lights, this body – *her* body now – lay unnervingly intact. The medical team murmured about inexplicable recoveries, ran tests, and left her alone with the unsettling silence and the echo of *two* shattered lives.
*Transmigration.* The word surfaced, cold and strange. *Protagonists get cheats...*
As if summoned, a cold, metallic voice resonated within her skull:
`[SYSTEM DETECTED... HOST CONSCIOUSNESS STABILIZED... BINDING INITIATED: 1%... 50%... 100%]`
`[SYSTEM INTEGRATION: COMPLETE. PRIMARY DIRECTIVE: HOST SURVIVAL & DEVELOPMENT]`
Light coalesced before her eyes, forming a translucent interface:
> **<< SYSTEM STATUS >>**
> **HOST:** Emma Jackson
> **AGE:** 17
> **RACE:** Human (Baseline)
> **VITAL SIGNS:** Stable (Anomalous Recovery Detected)
> **ATTRIBUTES:**
> - **Charm:** 89 (Naturally Elevated)
> - **Strength:** 45 (Average - Post-Trauma)
> **TALENT:** [Unlimited Proficiency], [Unlimited Growth], [Limit Break] - **Status: Dormant (Requires Activation)**
>
> **ACTIVE SKILLS:**
> - **Resilience (Passive):** Lv.1 [5/100] (Novice) - *Enhanced recovery observed*
> - **Academics (General):** Lv.1 [10/100] (Beginner) - *Baseline high school knowledge*
> - **Culinary Arts:** Lv.0 [0/100] (Untrained)
> - **Hand-to-Hand Combat:** Lv.0 [0/100] (Untrained)
> *(Other skills latent, require exposure)*
>
> **TALENT DESCRIPTORS:**
> - **[Unlimited Proficiency]:** Skill advancement through dedicated practice or study. *Rate varies.*
> - **[Unlimited Growth]:** No inherent biological cap on skill mastery. *Effort required.*
> - **[Limit Break]:** Potential to shatter perceived human skill ceilings. *High Effort/Cost.*
>
> **SKILL TIERS:**
> - Lv.0: Untrained
> - Lv.1-3: Beginner
> - Lv.4-6: Proficient
> - Lv.7-9: Advanced
> - Lv.10: Expert (Theoretical Human Maximum)
> - Lv.11+: **Limit Break Required**
"It's real," she breathed, the implications settling like stones. *Power. But not instant.* Then, the *other* memories surged – the Williams penthouse, Ashley's sneer, Josh's betrayal. A glacial fury, sharper than any hospital instrument, crystallized in her core. "Ashley... Josh," the names were a vow whispered into the sterile air. "Your debt will be paid." She closed her eyes, mastering the raw fury. Revenge required more than rage; it required *power*, carefully cultivated.
Driven by a need for verification, she found a small mirror. The face reflecting back was startlingly beautiful – high cheekbones, obsidian hair, eyes holding an ancient coldness the original Emma never possessed. A stark contrast to the bruises fading on her temple. A weapon, yes, but one needing sharpening.
She turned to the window. "Poor child," she murmured, absorbing the stark reality of Emma Jackson's existence – the loneliness, the vulnerability. A grim acceptance settled. "No attachments. No weaknesses." Exhaustion pulled her under. Sleep was preparation.
**Morning.**
Discharge was swift; her recovery defied medical logic. A taxi carried her to a small, rented apartment – clean, sparse, smelling of dust and cheap detergent. Survival, not living. Hunger gnawed. She found rice and eggs. Fumbling with the stove, burning her finger (`[Culinary Arts Proficiency +5. Lv.0 → Lv.1 [5/100]]`), she managed edible scrambled eggs. `[Practical Application: 'Basic Scrambled Eggs'. Proficiency +10. Lv.1 [15/100]]`. Simple. Barely competent. *Progress, not perfection.*