[Initialization complete]
[Welcome Trickster]
[Do you want to read the rules? Y/N]
The screen hanging in midair didn't move, didn't flicker. It just… existed there, clear and sharp, while the rest of the room felt hazy.
My throat worked before my voice did. "Y."
The text bled away, replaced with fresh lines.
[You are bound to the Trickster's Path.]
[Each day, you will be given four tasks.]
[Two will train your body.]
[Two will shape your life outside of battle.]
The letters shifted again, glowing slightly.
[Please note that the tasks will vary in difficulty and may not always be kind to you]
Are they going to ask me to kill someone or what?
[On completion of all four tasks, one random stat will be upgraded.]
[Your stats are: Strength, Speed, Agility, Intelligence, Senses.]
I stared at the list. Simple enough to understand. I didn't see anything about choosing what to level myself, though. "So I don't get to decide what improves?"
[Correct.]
[The Trickster system decides.]
Figures.
The next lines filled in:
[Today's Tasks – Cycle 1]
-Training:
Perform one hundred pushups.
Run three Kilometers.
-Social:
Help a stranger in some way.
Buy something and give it to a person in need.
I almost laughed. For all the mystery and ominous flair, these were normal. Easy, even. My old self would have breezed through that in a day without thinking.
Then another chime rang, and more text appeared, the glow colder somehow.
[Failure to complete all four tasks in 24 hours will result in immediate cardiac arrest.]
"WAIT WAIT WAIT WHAT? YOU MEAN ACTUAL DEATH?"
[Yes]
I gulped in fear.
Well, that is unsettling
The letters sat there, merciless. It wasn't a threat, it wasn't dramatics, it was a fact.
Before I could curse, the screen shifted again.
[Downsides of the Trickster's Path]
It seems like I wasn't going to be able to become invincible.
Well, that is a bust. I can die at any time if I don't complete all of the tasks, and I'm not invincible.
Overreach Cooldown – If you push past your current safe limit, all Essence is disabled for a set time. Duration scales with strain.
Essence Backlash – In states of extreme stress, fear, or rage, the Trickster system may take over and unleash your essence uncontrollably. Allies will not be spared.
Fate Binding – At certain milestones, your strength will cause new enemies to manifest. They will seek you out.
Trickster's Tithe – Every few cycles, a payment will be demanded. Refusal will reduce your growth.
Lock-In Paths – After certain upgrades, a random stat will lock. It will never improve again.
I read them twice, felt my stomach sink once.
There wasn't a single "free" part of this deal. Every blessing had a hook in it. I'd grow, sure, but the more I did, the more dangerous my life became. And if I slipped, if I failed once, that was it.
It wasn't just dangerous to me, however. Other people might get hurt.
Fate Binding is basically sacrificing innocents for my own gain.
But that man didn't care about innocents.
A flash of my trauma appeared. I didn't care about innocents. I needed power.
My palm flexed unconsciously. "You gave me this chance," I muttered under my breath. "You also made damn sure it won't be easy."
[Correct.]
I flinched at the word flashing back at me. I hadn't realized I'd spoken aloud.
Before I could think of what to try next, the door handle rattled.
I turned as a woman in a white coat stepped into the room. Her hair was tied back neatly, and a clipboard rested in her hand. She stopped mid-step.
For a second, she just stared at me.
Could she see the screen in front of me?
She approached me and walked right through the screen.
Guess not, looks like I'm the only one who can see this.
Her eyes flicked over me in a way I was used to seeing on soldiers sizing one another up, except hers softened, lingering almost too long. "You, uh…" She cleared her throat. "You're awake."
"Looks like it," I said.
She blinked, collecting herself, then moved to the foot of the bed, flipping through paperwork. "You were brought in yesterday. No ID on you, but you were barely breathing. And now"
She glanced at my body, perplexed but with stars in her eyes. "Did you work out, by any chance?"
I smirked faintly. "It's a secret training program," I said, covering my mouth in secrecy. "That and a special protein shake." I chuckled nervously.
She huffed a quiet laugh. "Well, you're in alarmingly good shape for someone who was half-dead last night." She said, playing with her hair.
Whats up with her? Why is she so fidgety?
She scribbled something down, shook her head, and muttered, "Lucky."
Before I could answer, the door opened again and two uniformed city guards stepped in. They were big, bigger than me, even after whatever the Trickster had done to me overnight.
They walked into the room, their aura suffocating the room. And they carried themselves like men who spent their lives dealing with trouble.
The one on the left spoke first. "Kael Draven?"
"That's me."
He stepped closer, eyes cold. "We have questions. About what happened at your home."
He scanned my body, and it seemed like he was confused about how my stature had changed overnight.
The memory slammed into me like a hammer. The glow, the blade, my mother falling forward, the smell of bread and blood. My hands tightened into fists before I could stop them.
"What do you want to know?" I asked.
The other guard's voice was deeper, rougher. "We found nothing. No footprints, no sign of forced entry, not even a blood trail beyond the bodies.
Whoever it was, either they're a ghost, or they had Essence we've never seen."
I said nothing. My throat wanted to close. The truth, the hooded man, the laugh, the white flash, sat heavy on my tongue.
But the Trickster's warning echoed in my head:
You cannot reveal the Path.
I forced my voice steady. "I don't know who he was. I didn't get a name. He was fast. Strong. My flames did nothing. The perfect murderer. He disappeared in a flash, and that's all I can remember."
The guards exchanged a look, then the first one said, "If you think of anything else, find us."
They left without waiting for an answer.
I sat on the edge of the bed for another minute, the room quiet again, my eyes fixed on the wall.
The female doctor studied me. "You should rest longer."
"Can't," I said.
Her brows lifted in confusion. "Why not?"
Because apparently, you die now if you don't do your push-ups.
But I just stood, rolling my shoulders, already feeling how much leaner and lighter my body felt.
"Thanks for the help, but I got stuff to do," I told her, and walked out before she could stop me.
The air outside was sharp and cool, streets still filling with early-morning movement. People haggled at carts, carriages rattled over cobblestones, and somewhere far off, a bell was marking the hour.
The screen blinked back into view.
[Cycle 1 – Time Remaining: 20:42:16]
Tasks Remaining: 4/4
– Perform one hundred push-ups
– Run three km
– Help a stranger
– Buy something and give it to someone in need
The first two were straightforward. I ducked into a quiet alley, dropped to the ground, and started on the push-ups.
My new strength carried me further than it should have, maybe twice as strong as before.
In my old body, I couldn't even do a single pushup, but with this body, I could do thirty without stopping.
But by the time I hit forty, my arms burned and my shoulders trembled. When I finally reached one hundred, I stayed on my knees, catching my breath.
[Task Complete – 100 Push-Ups]
One down. Three to go.