"The most dangerous person in any room is the one who's paying attention."
***
I let the power fade and leaned back against the pillows. Exhaustion finally claimed me.
My body was a ruin. Ground into dust by the day's abuse. But my mind felt freshly sharpened.
This was just the beginning.
[Power Strike] was crude. Brutal. Barely E-rank. But it was proof of concept. Evidence that my ability worked exactly as I'd hoped. Evidence that the system would allow me to grow in ways no one in this world had ever anticipated.
If I could steal one skill, I could steal them all.
The scent of antiseptic and stale linen was broken by the creak of the infirmary door.
I quickly composed my features into an expression of appropriate suffering. The pathetic mask of the beaten coward settled over my face like a familiar costume.
But the man who entered wasn't a medic.
It was Rhys Blackwood. He carried a small basket covered with a checkered cloth.
