Chapter 4 — A Life Not Spent
The beast died without Kairo dying with it.
That alone made the moment important.
The razor-hound collapsed with a wet thud, its elongated jaw slack, yellow eyes glazing as blood pooled beneath its neck. Steam rose from its body in the cold morning air.
Kairo stood over it, chest heaving, dagger clenched tightly in his right hand.
Alive.
Uninjured.
No restart.
No system screen rushing in to greet him.
Just silence.
For several seconds, Kairo didn't move. He waited for the familiar pull—the sensation of being dragged backward through existence. It didn't come.
Only then did he allow himself to breathe.
"So this is what it feels like," he murmured, voice low. "Winning without dying."
The razor-hound was an E-Rank beast, barely above the wolves the squad had fought earlier in the week. Still dangerous to civilians, still lethal to the unprepared—but nothing special.
To him, now, it had been a test.
And he had passed.
The fight replayed in his mind.
The moment the beast lunged, jaws snapping wide, faster than a normal man could react—
—but not faster than him.
Enhanced Reflexes had turned panic into clarity. The world had slowed just enough for him to sidestep instead of freeze, to angle his body instead of flinch. Steel Skin had absorbed the glancing blow that still landed, the claws skidding across his forearm instead of tearing through muscle.
He hadn't overpowered the beast.
He'd outplayed it.
Positioning. Timing. Patience.
No reckless charge. No dramatic gamble.
Just clean execution.
Kairo crouched and wiped his dagger on the beast's fur. His hands were steady.
"That's the difference," he said quietly. "Power isn't just what you steal. It's what you keep."
The system remained silent.
No blessing fragments appeared.
Of course not.
The beast hadn't killed him. It hadn't even come close.
This kill earned him nothing but experience—and information.
And that, Kairo was learning, was just as valuable.
He dragged the razor-hound's body away from the path and concealed it beneath brush and loose soil. Not because he feared discovery, but because he didn't want questions.
The squad was nearby. He'd split off earlier under the pretense of scouting—something Renn hadn't bothered to object to.
They didn't care where the unblessed went.
That was their mistake.
As Kairo returned to the trail, his thoughts turned inward.
Three deaths so far.
Two profitable.
One wasted.
That ratio wouldn't hold forever.
"I need rules," he muttered. "Real ones."
He focused inward, and the system responded.
[DEATH'S LEDGER — QUERY ACCEPTED]
He didn't ask for more power.
He asked for clarity.
"What determines fragment quality?" he whispered.
Text formed.
[ANSWER]
Fragment quality is influenced by:
• Source rank
• Source compatibility
• Method of death
• User state at death
Kairo frowned.
"User state?"
[CLARIFICATION]
Mental clarity, intent, and awareness at the moment of death affect extraction efficiency.
A chill ran through him.
"So panic weakens the reward," he said.
That explained the warning about mental strain.
Death wasn't just physical.
It was psychological.
If he died screaming, flailing, broken—
—the ledger would reflect that.
"Good," Kairo said after a moment. "Then I'll die awake."
The thought didn't horrify him the way it should have.
It grounded him.
The squad reached the academy gates by evening.
Massive stone walls rose from the earth, etched with sigils that glowed faintly as dusk settled. Above them, banners snapped in the wind—each bearing the crest of a noble house.
Kairo walked through the gates with the others, head lowered, posture deferential.
Inside, the academy buzzed with life.
Students sparred in open courtyards. Instructors shouted corrections. Groups clustered together, comparing blessings, ranks, rumors.
The hierarchy was visible at a glance.
Those with strong blessings stood taller.
Those with weak ones hovered on the edges.
The unblessed were nearly invisible.
Perfect.
Kairo separated from the squad as soon as they were dismissed.
No one stopped him.
His dormitory room was small, sparse, and shared with three others—none of whom were present.
Kairo sat on his bed and closed his eyes.
For the first time since awakening the ledger, he let himself feel tired.
Not physically.
Mentally.
Every death left an imprint. Not pain—memory.
The blade.
The darkness.
The restart.
He exhaled slowly.
"This is sustainable," he told himself. "If I don't rush."
He opened the ledger again.
DEATH'S LEDGER — STATUS UPDATE
Deaths: 3
Productive Deaths: 2
Wasted Deaths: 1
Blessings:
• Enhanced Reflexes (D)
• Steel Skin (D)
Synergy: Minor
Mental Strain: Low
Low—for now.
But it wouldn't stay that way if he treated death casually.
Kairo lay back and stared at the ceiling.
"Seven hundred chapters," he murmured with a faint smile. "I don't need to sprint."
He needed to endure.
The next week passed quietly.
Too quietly.
Kairo attended classes, trained when required, stayed invisible. He avoided Renn when possible, observed him when not.
Renn was strong—but predictable.
He relied on speed and durability. He fought aggressively, trusting his blessings to carry him through.
Kairo noted it all.
Others caught his attention too.
Upper-year students with C-Rank blessings.
Instructors whose presence warped the air around them—likely B-Rank or higher.
And once—
Just once—
He felt something else.
A pressure.
Not oppressive. Not violent.
Simply… absolute.
An A-Rank.
The instructor passed through the courtyard without looking at anyone. Conversations died. Even Renn stiffened.
Kairo felt his skin prickle.
"That's the ceiling," he whispered. "For now."
The thought didn't discourage him.
It anchored him.
That night, the system spoke without being prompted.
[NOTICE]
Ledger growth beyond D-Rank requires higher-rank fragment integration or successful synergy evolution.
Kairo sat up.
"So D-Rank is my current limit," he said.
Unless he stole upward.
Unless he merged intelligently.
Unless he survived encounters he shouldn't.
"Then that's the path," he decided.
He would hunt E-Rank and D-Rank targets without dying.
He would reserve death for C-Rank and above.
Every death would be planned.
Every entry deliberate.
No wasted lives.
No wasted pages.
Kairo lay back down, eyes open, mind steady.
"For the first time," he whispered, "I'm not afraid of tomorrow."
Behind his eyes, the ledger remained open.
Waiting for the next name.