The mechanical voice faded, but its echo seemed to vibrate in the very marrow of Victor's bones. The searing pain in his calf was gone, replaced by a thrumming, electric energy.
He stared at his leg. The twin puncture wounds were no longer bleeding; they had scabbed over into dark, rough patches, as if days of healing had occurred in seconds.
Consumed. The word circled in his mind like a shark. He hadn't eaten the viper, but he had dominated it, ended it, taken its life force in an act of pure survival. That was the consumption the System recognized.
A savage, primal satisfaction washed over him, so potent it was almost dizzying.
[Point Total: 50. Access System Menu?]
The prompt hung in his perception, a translucent, blue-tinted interface that overlapped with his vision of the jungle. It was real. This wasn't a hallucination born of venom or despair.
"Access," he whispered, the word a dry croak.
The interface shimmered and expanded.
[PREDATOR SYSTEM - User: Victor Valentine]
[Vitality: 12 -> 15]
[Strength: 10 -> 13]
[Agility: 9 -> 12]
[Perception: 11 -> 14]
//
[Abilities: None]
[Skills: None]
//
[Point Total: 50]
So, just killing the snake had given him a passive boost. He was stronger, faster, more alert. He flexed his hand, feeling a new resilience in his muscles, a clarity in his senses he'd never possessed before.
The faint, coppery smell of the snake's blood was sharp and distinct. He could hear the skittering of a beetle under a leaf several feet away.
This changed everything. The entire game had been rewritten.
His eyes, now sharp and calculating, scanned the menu. There had to be more. "Show me what the points can do," he commanded, his voice steadier now.
A new list materialized.
[Available Purchases - Tier 1]
[Keen Senses (Passive) - 30 Pts: Enhances sight, hearing, and smell to superhuman levels.]
[Minor Regeneration (Passive) - 40 Pts: Accelerates healing of non-fatal wounds.]
[Predator's Glare (Active) - 25 Pts: Instills a moment of primal fear in a target.]
[Basic Trapping - 20 Pts: Grants knowledge of primitive snare and trap construction.]
A slow, dark smile spread across Victor's face. This was a shopping list for a god. No, not a god. A predator.
The memory of Sienna pulling away from him, of Liam's condescending arm around her, flashed before his eyes, but now it didn't bring pain. It brought fuel.
'They saw me as weak. Useless. Something to be discarded,' he thought, the bitterness crystallizing into a cold, hard plan.
They divided the world into the strong and the weak. They just placed themselves in the wrong category.
Liam with his brute strength thought he was the alpha. Harrington with his logic thought he was the leader. Sienna with her beauty thought she was the prize. They were all playing checkers while he had just been handed the rulebook for global domination.
His gaze lingered on [Predator's Glare]. It was cheap. Efficient. The psychological effect would be far more valuable than any physical boost. To make them feel fear, just for a second, would be the first step in breaking them. But [Minor Regeneration] was a tantalizing guarantee of longevity. He couldn't conquer if he died from an infected cut.
Strategy was key. This wasn't about blind rage, it was about calculated dominance.
"Purchase [Keen Senses] and [Predator's Glare]," he said.
[Confirm purchase: Keen Senses (30 Pts) and Predator's Glare (25 Pts)? Total: 55 Pts. Insufficient Points.]
Victor's smirk didn't fade. The System was teaching him its rules. It wasn't just about killing; it was about accumulating power. And for that, he needed more points. He needed to hunt.
His eyes fell upon the mangled corpse of the jungle viper. A resource. He stood up, the movement fluid and effortless. He picked up the rock again, its weight feeling insignificant in his newly strengthened hand. He began to methodically hack the snake into manageable pieces.
If killing gives points, then what does processing the kill do? he wondered. The System said 'consumed.' Let's see how literal it gets.
He stuffed a piece of the raw, bloody snake meat into his mouth. It was tough, metallic, and revolting. He forced himself to swallow.
[Host has consumed biomass: Jungle Viper.]
[+5 Points awarded.]
A brutal laugh escaped his lips, echoing faintly in the dense jungle. Perfect. It was all a resource. The animals, the plants, the very island itself. And soon, the people. They were all just point pools waiting to be harvested.
He ate another piece, ignoring the gag reflex his new body seemed to suppress. [+5 Points.] He continued until the points notification stopped, his stomach churning but his spirit soaring.
[Point Total: 65]
"Now," he said, the taste of blood still on his tongue. "Purchase [Keen Senses] and [Predator's Glare]."
[Purchase confirmed. 55 Points deducted.]
[Point Total: 10]
[Abilities Updated: Keen Senses (Passive), Predator's Glare (Active)]
The effect was instantaneous and overwhelming. The world exploded into a hyper-defined reality. He could see the individual grains of pollen floating in a sunbeam, count the veins on a leaf yards away.
The rustle of the canopy became a symphony of distinct sounds—the flutter of wings, the scrape of bark, the distant, rhythmic crash of waves on the beach.
He could smell the damp earth, the rot of vegetation, the faint, lingering scent of Sienna's perfume from the crash site, and the musky odor of fear that had clung to the other survivors.
He turned his head, his enhanced hearing focusing on the distant beach. He could just make out the voices.
"...need to organize search parties for fresh water," Liam was saying, his voice brimming with authority.
"And what if someone gets lost?Like that Valentine guy," Harrington countered.
Victor's lips curled into a sneer. 'Worry about yourselves.'
He then heard Sienna's voice, soft and pleading. "Do you think... do you think Victor is okay?"
He could almost picture her, batting her eyelashes, playing the concerned ex while safely tucked under Liam's wing. The act was so transparent now. It was nauseating.
A fresh, cold resolve settled over him. They were all still out there, clinging to their pathetic social structures, their fragile hopes of rescue. They had no idea what was brewing in the shadows of their new world.
'Let them play their games,' he thought, turning his back on the beach and delving deeper into the green gloom. 'Let them feel safe. I have hunting to do.'