Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
Water fell from a cracked pipe somewhere above, echoing through the tunnel like a heartbeat. A single flickering strip-light buzzed overhead, washing the abandoned metro station in a feverish gray.
Raven came to with a groan. His back pressed against cold tile, his head pounding in dull, slow waves. The air tasted of rust and dust and something faintly sweet—mana residue.
He sat up too fast and the world swayed. Pain flashed through his ribs, but beneath it was something stranger: a hum under his skin, alive and coiled, as if energy now moved through veins that weren't entirely his.
He looked around. Broken benches, torn posters, an overturned vending machine. The words Line 7 — Closed for Maintenance blinked weakly from an ancient sign. No people. No sound except the slow drip.
"How… the hell did I get here?" His voice rasped, dry and raw.
The last thing he remembered was rain, the alley, the knife, light burning through him—then nothing.
Something shimmered in the air above him.
> [System Stabilization Complete.]
[Soul Integrity 72 %.]
[Assimilation Progress — 0.3 %.]
White letters hung in front of him, cold and impossibly real.
"Still here," he muttered. "So it wasn't a nightmare."
He pushed himself to his feet. His reflection in the cracked display glass beside the ticket counter looked the same—messy black hair, pale skin, eyes rimmed red from exhaustion—but behind his pupils faint blue light pulsed, steady and unnatural.
He remembered the dying man's face.
The moment the blade went in.
The way light had burst out instead of blood.
And now—images flashed that weren't his.
A child's voice laughing.
A woman screaming his name.
The smell of burning oil and concrete.
Raven stumbled backward, pressing a hand to his temple. "What the—"
> [Warning — Residual Memory Transfer Detected.]
[Fragment Stored: 1/∞]
The System's voice was sterile, almost gentle.
But he felt sick.
"So every time I… harvest…" He couldn't finish the thought. "Fragments. From the people I—"
> [Correction: From the souls you assimilate.]
He barked a short, humorless laugh. "That's supposed to sound better?"
The letters vanished.
Something new appeared a moment later, scrolling lines across the air like a holographic HUD.
> [Status Window — User Raven Ahn]
Level: 1
Rank: E
Health: 310 / 310
Mana: 75 / 75
Strength: 8
Agility: 11
Vitality: 9
Perception: 10
Intelligence: 7
Assimilation: 0.3 %
[All Attributes — Automatic Allocation Active until Level 40]
[Manual Distribution unlocked at 50 % Assimilation]
Raven stared. Numbers. Stats. Like an RPG character sheet, except every digit represented something alive inside him.
He flexed a hand; faint blue mist coiled around his fingers. "Strength eight, huh? Doesn't feel like eight."
> [Evaluation: Below average for E-Rank Hunter.]
"Thanks," he muttered. "Really boosts morale."
The text blinked once and faded, as if ignoring sarcasm entirely.
A low chime followed.
> [Daily Mission Generated.]
Objective: Perform 100 basic physical movements (push-ups / sit-ups / squats / runs).
Reward: 1 Random Loot Chest (Grade F).
Penalty for Failure: Muscle atrophy / System reprimand.
[Time Limit — 00:59:59]
Raven blinked. "You're joking. Workouts? That's your idea of survival?"
No answer. Just the ticking timer in the corner of his vision.
He sighed and dropped his jacket. The tunnel floor was filthy, but he'd slept in worse. "Fine. Let's see how real this is."
Push-ups first.
One, two, three—by twenty his arms trembled.
By sixty his breath came ragged, sweat cutting tracks down his face.
By ninety-nine, his arms burned like fire.
"One more…"
He collapsed at one-hundred, gasping.
The air shimmered.
> [Daily Mission Complete.]
[Reward Chest Summoned.]
A pulse of light coalesced beside him. Lines of mana folded inward until a small, iron-bound chest hovered a few inches above the ground. Its latch clicked once.
Raven sat up slowly, still panting, staring at it. "Okay," he whispered. "Let's pretend this makes sense."
He reached out. The metal felt cold, almost alive, humming faintly under his fingertips.
> [Would you like to open Reward Chest (Grade F)? Y/N]
He hesitated. "What's the catch?"
> [None Detected.]
"Yeah, right," he muttered—and tapped Y.
The chest burst open in a flash of pale blue light. Wind rippled outward, scattering dust and old ticket stubs.
> [Item Acquired — Deathbound Dagger (Grade E).]
[Effect — Weapon synchronizes with host's Assimilation Rate.]
A black dagger materialized in his palm, its blade veined with faint silver lines that pulsed to his heartbeat. Perfectly balanced, weightless in his hand.
He turned it, catching his reflection in the blade. For a moment, the reflection didn't move again—it smiled, faintly.
He froze.
The lights overhead flickered. Somewhere deeper in the tunnel, something scraped against concrete—slow, deliberate.
The System spoke one last time, voice quiet, almost approving.
> [Assimilation growth possible through combat.]
[New quest available soon, Collector.]
"Collector," he repeated under his breath. The word felt wrong in his mouth. "You keep calling me that…"
The dagger pulsed once in answer.
He looked down the dark tunnel, where the scraping sound had come from. The cold hum of mana rolled closer, heavier, hungrier.
Raven exhaled, steadying his hand around the weapon. "Guess the night's not done."
The tunnel lights went out.
Only the faint blue glow from his eyes remained.