The sermon started an hour before the next raid. In the darkened corner of the barracks, a dozen orphans huddled together like frightened animals. Maria stood before them, no longer timid, her eyes burning with a feverish light. The transformation was complete. She was a leader now, not a scared girl.
"The Bureau sends us to die," she whispered, her voice carrying weight despite the small room. "They give us scraps. They call it duty. But we have found another way. The culvert is ours. It rewards courage."
Some of the children shivered, captivated. A boy with a torn sleeve clutched a wooden practice sword tighter. A girl with a fresh bruise on her cheek tilted her head, eyes wide with fragile hope. Even in their brokenness, Maria's words wrapped around them like fire.
Jack watched from the back, silent. His interface hummed in his mind, cold and precise.
[Tenant Group Morale: Manic (Unstable)]
The data told the truth the children could not see. Faith was fragile. Hope could shatter in seconds. He had just found the pin.
Before the raid, he had returned to his bunk and made the final adjustments to the dungeon code. Predictability bred complacency. He needed chaos. He selected a single Giant Rat in the second chamber and buffed its health by fifty percent. It would be no mere rat. It would be a hidden miniboss, a sudden reckoning for overconfidence.
The night was thick with fog as twelve of them larger than ever slipped out of the barracks. Maria led, radiant in her zeal. The first chamber of goblins went exactly as Jack predicted. Their overconfidence made them reckless but surprisingly effective. Laughing, cheering, they claimed minor loot: a few coins, a crude dagger. Each reward reinforced the illusion they were invincible, chosen by fate itself.
The second chamber loomed. The Giant Rat waited. It was larger than normal, its fur matted and dark, eyes glowing with malevolent intelligence. At first, the recruits hesitated, then charged. Their attacks barely scratched it. When it lunged, it tore a boy's throat before he could even scream.
Chaos erupted. The manic energy of the sermon curdled into terror. Formation shattered. Children fled blindly, some screaming, some frozen. Maria's eyes widened, disbelief breaking the fervor that had carried her this far. One recruit, trembling but trying to shield a smaller boy, fell to the rat. Jack watched calmly from his interface.
[Tenant has died. Essence Absorbed: +1 Agility.]
[Tenant has died. Essence Absorbed: +1 Perception.]
A strange energy surged as the boy with the rare [Minor Regeneration] skill was cornered. His arms stitched over shallow wounds, a faint blue glow surrounding him, but it was not enough. When his body dissolved, the notifications were different, overwhelming. A torrent of complex information flooded Jack's mind. Gold light filled his vision.
[RARE OCCURRENCE. Skill Plunder Protocol Activated. You have acquired the skill: Minor Regeneration (F-Rank). This skill does not consume a skill slot.]
Jack's pulse quickened. He could feel it knitting microscopic tears in his muscles, a quiet, persistent energy settling in him. The jackpot. But even as the thrill pulsed through his body, the weight of it struck him. His entire disguise depended on mediocrity, on being disposable. This power endangered everything.
The survivors staggered back, shaken and silent. Maria sat on the ground, her eyes distant. The raid had left ghosts behind. Faith was broken. Hope annihilated.
Jack closed his eyes, tasting victory and dread together. A new ability pulsed inside him, a secret that could save or betray. Hiding it would not be simple.