The morning began with cold.
I woke up earlier than usual with a feeling of tension in my body. Not pain. More like readiness.
I got dressed quickly, pulled on my sneakers, and stepped outside.Glitch immediately tugged at the leash with excitement, as if he already knew we were going for a run.
A system window unfolded before my eyes.
####################
Quest:Endurance RunDistance: 25 kmReward: Endurance +1Failure: -1 Endurance. Endurance quests locked for three days.####################
"It keeps increasing…" I muttered.
The quests used to be simpler. Shorter.Now the system felt like it was slowly tightening the screws.
We started running.
At first, it was easy. Then my breathing grew heavier, my muscles began to burn—but I noticed something strange. The fatigue came later than before. My body was adapting. As if the level actually meant something, not just a number in a window.
When we returned, Glitch was breathing hard but looked satisfied.
I closed the quest—the window faded away.I wondered briefly… do animals have their own quests?
"So far, manageable," I said to myself. "But I can feel it. It's going to get worse."
At work, I ran into Mark closer to lunchtime.
He noticed my mood immediately.
"You look… charged," he smirked. "Already went running?"
"Yeah," I nodded. "And I've decided something."
He studied me more closely.
"I'm going to keep going with the arena," I said quietly. "I need to raise my Charisma. I don't see any other way."
Mark frowned.
"Still stuck at five?"
"Lower now," I sighed. "The quests are either stupid or impossible. Like it's on purpose."
He nodded slowly.
"Same for me," he said. "But with Intelligence."
"Every time it's 'read this,' 'study that,' 'pass a test.' I've failed that test three times already."
I frowned.
"Doesn't it seem strange to you… that everyone always gets stuck on one stat?"
He smirked.
"That's the fate of the First Block."
"What do you mean?"
"It's like that for everyone here," Mark shrugged. "The system picks one stat and says: 'This is where you stop.'"
I thought about it.
"But that doesn't happen in higher blocks."
"Because they have access," he replied immediately."Resources. Books. Trainers. Crystals. Artifacts."
"Things that are either forbidden or completely unavailable to us."
"That's not fair," I said before I could stop myself.
"Of course it isn't," Mark nodded. "But that's the system."
"Maybe the government slows us down on purpose?" I suggested.
One of the older workers overheard us—a man with a tired face. He stepped closer.
"The government doesn't control the system," he said calmly. "It controls resources."
We exchanged glances.
"The system is above them," he continued. "They can catch cheaters.They can restrict access.But they can't rewrite quests."
He walked away, leaving us with the heavy certainty of his words.
After my shift, I went to the library.
If the system gave me magic again, then I at least needed to understand it.
####################
Quest:IntelligenceStudy the basics of magic: types and stylesReward: Intelligence +1Failure: Intelligence -2####################
I sat down at a table and opened the first volume.
Magic was divided into three main branches.
Support Magic:Body EnhancementReaction AccelerationRegeneration BoostBarriersControl
Transitional (Tactical) Magic:IllusionsDisorientationField ControlMarksSpatial Distortions
Offensive Magic:ElementalWave-BasedConcentratedDestructiveDraining
Each style had subtypes, dependencies, and restrictions.
The more I read, the clearer it became—without mana and without reaching the second block, this knowledge was almost useless.
So why was the system giving it to me at all, if I wasn't even supposed to leave the First Block?
That evening, Mark and I met at the bus stop near my house.
"Ready?" he asked.
"Yeah," I said. "Even if Angelina kicks us out."
We descended into the underground district along a familiar route.
Noise, neon lights, constant movement—it all looked the same as last time. But now I caught myself seeing it differently. Not as something foreign. More like a place where I might end up spending far too much time.
We found Thor quickly.
He was standing near the entrance to one of the side halls, talking to staff. When he noticed us, he nodded and gestured for us to come closer.
"So, you decided after all," he said without surprise.
"Yes," I replied. "If the offer still stands."
He huffed.
"Then let's go. First, to her."
We walked down the corridor and entered the familiar office.
Angelina sat at her desk, a work terminal open in front of her. She looked up, saw us, and smirked slightly.
"Well, well," she drawled. "You actually came back."
"I thought you'd change your minds."
"We're ready," Mark said.
"We'll see," she replied calmly. "Data first."
She nodded toward a computer nearby.
"Sit down. This is insurance."
"If you decide to talk too much or leak information,these records will end up in places you really don't want to deal with."
We exchanged looks but didn't argue.
I sat down first. The interface was dry and blunt—system signatures, identifiers, base stats, consent confirmation. No warnings. Just facts.
Mark did the same.
Angelina watched silently, occasionally marking something on her own screen.
When we finished, she leaned back in her chair and thought for a few seconds.
"Alright," she said finally. "Formalities are done."
She stood up.
"Now let's go."
We left the office and went farther down the corridor into a separate room.
In the center stood two small terminals facing each other. In front of each was a palm sensor panel.
Angelina walked up to one terminal and placed her palm on the panel first.
The screen flashed briefly.
"You're first," she said without looking. "Mark."
Mark approached hesitantly and placed his hand on the panel.
Angelina did something—quick, silent, just a few precise movements on the interface.
The system reacted instantly.
Mark jerked.
"Oh…" he blurted out. "Damn…"
He stepped back and sat on the edge of a table, clearly trying to process it.
"You're next," she said to me.
I stepped forward and placed my palm on the panel.
At that moment, system notifications flashed before my eyes.
Inventory updated.Inventory updated.
I pulled my hand away and opened the interface.
Bottles filled the inventory.
Many of them.
Energy potions.Recovery potions.Endurance potions.
All new.
I exhaled slowly.
She didn't explain anything.
Just watched, gauging our reactions.
I quickly counted them and realized—exactly enough to push Strength and Endurance to level thirty without failure.
"You have three days," Angelina said. "To reach level thirty in Strength and Endurance."
"No more."
Mark swallowed.
"And then?"
"Then training," she continued. "Ten days."
"Every day. Two to three hours here. No skipping."
She looked at us closely.
"As soon as you both hit thirty, I'll put together a team for you."
"And from the second or third day, you'll start training not just the two of you."
Something tightened inside my chest.
A team.The arena.There was less and less room to turn back.
"And if we fail?" I asked.
Angelina smirked.
"Then you simply won't live to see the fight."
She turned toward the exit.
"We start tomorrow," she threw over her shoulder.
The door closed.
I looked at the bottles in front of me.
Three days.Ten days.
And a clear understanding—we were already much deeper inside the system than yesterday.