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Chapter 3 - Chapter 2 — Hunger, House, and the Wheel

The principal's money smelled like paper and fear. Fifteen million units in a leather packet—too clean for the city I knew. I did what any sensible hunter would do: I spent it on things that would keep me alive.

First, a house. Not the Valen terrace, not a place with servants and banners. A small two-room on the edge of the old quarter, a place that kept noise from prying ears and had a back door that opened to alleys. I paid cash. The owner did not ask questions when I pushed the packet across his table. He counted and smiled like a man relieved his life had become simpler. I left with keys cold in my palm.

Second, gear. Nothing flashy. Thick boots that could grip mud and bone. A coil of rope. A hardened pack. Pots, a blunt blade, a whetstone, a roll of cloth. I bought a set of light armor—leather, reinforced at the chest and shoulders—easy to move in, easy to mend. I took a pair of tongs and a small hammer because living off a dungeon means making things with your hands.

Third, food and medicine. The system makes no promises about kindness. It will test, twist, take. I needed to live long enough to answer.

When I stepped into my new room the panel blinked awake as if it had been waiting for me. The system's voice filled the small space, exact and empty.

[Daily Task Issued] — Complete 1000 push-ups, 1000 pull-ups, 1000 sit-ups, 10 km run. Reward: 1 Wheel Coupon.

The list rolled through my head like a metronome. It was relentless. The task was stupid, cruel, perfect. I could feel the system ranking my life in small boxes: try, fail, repeat. And I liked it.

I did not sleep proper that night. I ate a small bowl of stew, checked my pack, and walked the alleys until the city's lights dimmed. My fingers learned the weight of things quickly; my shoulder found that simple leather fit my body like a memory.

On the second night a group came to take what a new man might have—money, food, curiosity. They thought my door a prize. They kicked and swore and tasted bravado. They were young enough to be reckless and old enough to know how to hurt.

They burst inside two at a time. One had a short blade, the others fists. They laughed like men who had never been cut by cold.

The system pinged when I noticed them.

[Threat Detected: Multiple Hostile Humans — Low Rank] 

[Option: Engage / Evade]

The laugh left their mouths when I moved.

Movement felt different after the transformation. It was not strength alone; it was direction. My hand closed on the nearest wrist and the sound of their breath changed. My grip did not aim to break bones at first. It sought to learn the shape of trouble. One swung a knife. I caught the wrist and turned, letting his momentum slam him into the table. Wood cracked. A second lunged and I used the momentum to throw him against the wall. The third reached for me and hit hard, but the wall stopped his head and I gripped his jaw and felt teeth. The fight lasted seconds and a list of broken things later; I stood with new bruises that felt like proof.

They had laughed at a broken Valen boy. They died in a quicker lesson.

When the last one slumped the system spoke again.

[Enemy Defeated. Talent Detected: Shadow Step (C-Rank, Beginner Tier).] 

[Do you wish to copy their Talent? Y / N]

The word shadow was thin and precise. The gang had used a petty step trick—quick moves, a jolt of hidden speed to vanish in a crowd. It was not noble, but it worked. It had kept their hands clean long enough to rob.

I pressed Y. My palm felt the press of a choice and the world answered.

[Copy Initiated. Shadow Step (C-Rank, Beginner) added to Talent List.] 

[Synergy Detected: Movement Traits. Current Movement Composite: Beginner → Intermediate.] 

[Note: Stacking talents may trigger evolution at thresholds.]

My legs felt lighter. The alley looked narrower and then wider. I tested it. A flick of thought and my feet were a hair's breadth to the nearest rooftop. The shadow moved at the edges of my vision like a second skin. I had taken a small, ugly talent and fused it to the new thing inside me. It did not feel like stealing. It felt like assembling.

The gang's coin purse was thin, but together with a few trinkets I would not need, it padded my stores. I burned their knives at the hearth, melted the blades for scrap, and kept the leather. Their failure became parts of me.

I spent the next week learning the smell of the new talent. The system watched in its small way. It issued the daily tasks and scored every rep. Morning broke and I dropped to the floor and pushed until my arms cut out. I found pull-ups where my fingers hurt and sit-ups that made my stomach scream. The 10 km runs came with no music—just my breath and the city's night. I ate thin food, stitched skins, and slept like a dead thing.

The system rewarded completion with a small beep and a bright coupon that blinked in the corner of my vision.

[Wheel Coupon Added to Inventory. Quantity: 1]

The wheel sat like temptation. The rules were clean: one spin per coupon, one prize per day. The wheel's odds flashed before me when I held the coin—Common 70%, Rare 20%, Epic 8%, Legendary 1%, Mythic 0.1%. Mythic read like a fairy tale in numbers. It could happen. The system does not care about hope.

I waited two nights. Every day I cut more of the useless away. My skin tanned. My hands learned stitches. My blade took shape in a rough way. I hunted small things—cave rats, a lone hungry wyrmling that came to the surface, a breathless thing with teeth like knives. I learned to break bone without wasting meat.

When I spun the wheel it felt like a small ritual. I held the coupon with fingers that no longer trembled.

[Wheel Spin Initiated] 

[Result: Rare — Talent Fragment: Hunter's Gaze (C-Rank, Beginner)]

The system added the fragment to my palate. Hunter's Gaze was a small sight trick—a focus that sharpened the eye on vital parts. Together with Shadow Step and the reflex residue from the teacher, movement and sight started to braid into something that felt dangerous.

The memory file from the teacher opened then. The system reminded me.

[New Talent Previously Acquired: Combat Reflexes (C-Rank, Beginner). Source: Classroom Encounter.] 

[Synergy: Combat Reflexes + Shadow Step + Hunter's Gaze = Movement Composite improved to Intermediate. Evolution possible at Mastery.]

I tested the reflexes on purpose. A blade tried to slit my throat—only a training swing against a small carved target—and my hand moved before I thought. The catch was not magic; it was calculation and certainty. My fingers closed as if the system had given them a map.

Four months was the plan in my head. Grind, stack, evolve. Use the house as a hub: sleep, mend, eat, spin, test. Visit school once a month to keep my slot. Let rumours feed the city. Let the principals stew. Let the Valens wonder if their castoff had become a myth.

I kept a ledger on the table—names who had wronged Riley, a short list at first but growing like a hunger. The photograph stayed folded in my wallet, safe as ballast. The note on the back still said, "For one day, be brave." I had changed the promise into something colder: Be brave, then take what must be taken.

At night I would sit on the roof of my small house and listen to the city breathe. The system would tick, idle, and sometimes propose a mission: clear a small rift, retrieve a minor trophy, or hunt a beast tide. Rewards flashed—talent shards, coins, artifacts.

And each morning the push-ups waited. The panel never forgave absence.

The month before the national qualifiers I returned to the academy to show my face to the principal. He counted the weeks and the sums I had taken. He pretended not to be afraid. Students stared at me like a weather report—storm on the horizon.

I did not tell them about the wheel, or who I had taken from, or that my body had become a ledger. Teeth fit better on lists than on apologies.

When the system whispered its last message before I left for the next run I read it twice.

[Objective: Prepare for National Competition. Time Until Qualifier: 28 days.] 

[Suggestion: Continue stacking talents. Increase Movement Composite to Mastery before public debut.]

I smiled once, small and private. The city will learn to call my name properly soon. Not Riley. Not the Valen mistake. A new name would rise with a rumor and a sound.

I laced my boots and closed the door. The daily task waited. The wheel coupon glowed in my mind like a promise.

Find them all, the voice said, simple and patient.

© 2025 Kael Virell. All rights reserved. This original work is authored by Kael Virell and protected by copyright. No part may be reproduced, distributed, adapted, or used without written permission. Unauthorized copying will result in legal action and platform takedown to enforce ownership immediately.

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