Niamh's hands moved with gentle precision as she tended to baby Jade, her fingers deftly changing his tattered cloth diaper with a practiced ease that defied the poverty surrounding them.
Despite the scarcity that had become their norm, Niamh's love for the child was boundless. She spoke to him in a soft, melodic hum—words that carried a warmth strong enough to soothe his tiny frame. As she cradled him close, Jade's large, curious eyes gazed up at her, and his soft coos filled the dim room—moments of fragile intimacy that transcended their harsh world.
Two months had passed since Jade's arrival in her life, and in that short time, the tiny human had carved a space deep within her heart. Niamh had expected sleepless nights, endless laundry, and the exhaustion of motherhood, bracing herself for it. Yet to her surprise, Jade was anything but troublesome. He rarely soiled himself without warning, always giving little signs when he needed to go. He never cried for food—only babbled and gurgled, as if trying to tell her he was hungry.
She often found herself laughing at the thought. What would a newborn know about consideration? Still, his soft coos and giggles as she carried him on scavenging trips had become the music of her days, and his chubby cheeks and toothless grin, her brightest joy.
From the small pack strapped to her back, Jade would babble endlessly, fascinated by every sound, every flash of light, every face they passed—like a curious little adult in a baby's body. Watching him filled Niamh with a sense of purpose she had never known before, as though—for the first time—she was exactly where she was meant to be.
Jade's wide eyes drank in the world around him: the rusted car parts, the sagging metal heaps, the ragged faces that came and went. He had begun to notice patterns in Niamh's scavenging—how her sharp eyes scanned the junkyard for hidden value, how her hands moved with fluid skill as she sorted and cleaned. Though still an infant, he was beginning to grasp the truth of their world: the hunger, the neglect, the resilience that defined life in the slums. Yet his gaze remained full of wonder, absorbing the strange, beautiful chaos he had been born into.
Over those two months, Jade had embarked on a quiet journey of self-discovery, unraveling the mysteries of his power. Day by day, he learned to control the subtle energies flowing within him—what had once been wild surges now responding obediently to his will. Each small success filled him with wonder and pride, a reminder that even in this broken world, he was something more.
Opening his status window, he beamed with pride at the progress he'd made. Each task completed had brought him strength, and the sight of his rising numbers gave him a quiet thrill.
STATUS:
Name: Jade
Level: 1
EXP: 12 / 50
STR: 7
AGI: 7
INT: 80
STA: 16
HP: 100
STP: 16
MP: 100
SKP: 1
TALENTS: EX-Rank Divine Soul Dual Pupils (Unawakened), SS-Rank Ice and Snow Manipulation
BLOODLINES: Yin Phoenix (Unique), Void Belgusari (God Tier) [Partially Awakened]
SKILLS: Glossomancy (C), Intermediate Ice Manipulation, Basic Weapon Mastery, Basic Healing
INVENTORY: 0 / 50
WEAPONS: —
QUESTS — DAILY / MOMENTARY
Throw a punch 25,600 times
• Reward: SP +2
• Status: Ongoing
Throw a kick 25,600 times
• Reward: SP +2
• Status: Ongoing
Take a life
• Reward: SP +1, SKP +1
• Status: Incomplete
Awaken Dormant Talent
• Reward: Talent-exclusive skills
• Status: Incomplete
Reach one year of age
• Time Limit: 1 year
• Reward: ???
• Status: Incomplete
Staring at his training quests, Jade felt a small headache form. He had assumed a few hundred punches and kicks a day would make him powerful quickly—but no. Each completion doubled the next requirement, turning progress into torture. Good things don't come easy, he thought bitterly.
He was still just a baby. Even with his enhanced stats, his small body protested the effort. Between pretending to be a normal infant, eating, sleeping, and tagging along on Niamh's scavenging runs, time was scarce. Still, he had accumulated stat points and took pride in his steady progress.
Some quests had evolved while others lingered incomplete, their conditions unknown. But Jade knew he was stronger. Perhaps even as strong as a young adult. He remained careful, though—terrified that one careless mistake might expose his abnormality. He didn't understand how fast babies developed here, so he treaded lightly, avoiding the temptation to use more stat points. What if I end up like some King Kong baby? he thought wryly. That'd be a disaster.
As Niamh navigated the junkyard's labyrinthine paths with Jade strapped securely to her back, the routine had become second nature. The slums were far too dangerous to leave a child alone—especially an Omega infant like Jade. Death would be a mercy compared to what predators might do to him here.
Suddenly, a group of rough-looking men emerged from the shadows. Grimgold Ironfist—hulking, scarred, and cruel-eyed—led the pack. Beside him were Vic "The Bull," broad and bearded, and Ricky "The Kid," wiry with a mess of dark hair and an unnerving stare that lingered too long on the baby.
Grimgold stepped forward, his voice a rasping growl. "Who's the kid belong to, huh? You don't look the motherly type, scavenger."
Niamh's instincts flared. Her grip tightened on the scavenged pipe she carried, though she forced her tone calm and measured.
"Oh, I'm just meetin' his dad," she said lightly. "We're tradin' goods. He's waitin' for me up ahead."
Vic snorted. "Tradin' goods with a baby on your back? You're a clever one, huh?"
Ricky took a step closer, eyes sharp and unsettling. "And what's this little one's dynamic, eh? Beta? Alpha? Omega? You know we gotta ask."
A chill rippled down Niamh's spine. Her mind raced, every instinct screaming danger. She shifted her stance slightly—ready, but not reckless. Then, with a strained smile, she rummaged through her pouch and produced several valuable scraps.
"Look, I'm willing to share," she said. "Found these earlier—rare parts. Maybe we can come to an understanding?"
Grimgold's gaze flicked to the offering. For a moment, greed overpowered cruelty. Vic and Ricky exchanged a glance, considering. After a long beat, Grimgold grunted. "Alright, scavenger. You've got some taste. We'll let you pass… this time."
Niamh nodded, easing forward to hand over the scraps, then backed away with slow precision. Her hand adjusted the hood over Jade's head, hiding his face as she turned to leave.
Grimgold's parting words crawled over her skin like a warning: "Watch your step, scavenger. We might not be so generous next time."
Niamh didn't look back. Her steps quickened only once she'd cleared the junkyard's edge, breath shaking with relief. She didn't stop until the flickering lights of her makeshift home came into view—only then did she allow herself to breathe again.
....