The ceiling of the tunnels was a labyrinth of rusted pipes and hanging moss. Cian clung to a massive ventilation duct, his body pressed flat against the cold iron. In the past, his muscles would have burned and failed within seconds. Now, he felt as if he could hold this position for hours. The Avarice System was still integrating the rat stats, sending small, cooling pulses through his veins.
Below him, the flickering light of a mana-torch splashed against the walls.
"I'm telling you, it's down here somewhere," Kael's voice echoed, dripping with irritation. "The brat wouldn't have run far. He probably crawled into a hole and bled out."
Kael wasn't alone. He had brought a lackey—a scrawny mage named Jax who specialized in "Light Orbs." Jax looked nervous, his wand trembling as he cast a glow over the sludge-filled floor.
"Kael, this is the Festering Commons," Jax whispered. "If the Ravager didn't kill him, the Shadow-Rats did. Let's just tell the Guild the bag was destroyed. It's not worth being down here after the 'Anomaly' alert."
"Shut up," Kael snapped. "That bag had a Grade-2 Mana Core in it. I'm not letting a week's wages rot because you're scared of some rodents."
Cian watched them from above. He felt a strange, detached sensation. Seeing Kael—the man who had been his nightmare for three years—he didn't feel the familiar surge of terror. He felt a cold, clinical observation.
Kael's stance is wide. He's leaning on his right leg. His Agility is sluggish. If I drop now, I can sever his Achilles before he draws that claymore.
But Cian didn't move yet. He wanted to hear it. He wanted to hear the lack of remorse.
"The Null... Cian," Jax said, stumbling over the name. "He was a good carrier. He never complained. Don't you feel even a little bad about slamming that gate?"
Kael laughed, a harsh, grating sound. "Bad? For a Null? Jax, he was a tool. You don't feel bad when a shovel breaks. You just get a new shovel. The world has too many useless mouths anyway. I did the Kingdom a favor."
Cian's grip on the ventilation duct tightened. A small piece of iron crumpled under his fingers like wet cardboard.
A tool.
Cian released his hold.
He didn't scream. He didn't make a sound. He fell through the darkness like a stone.
"What was—" Jax started to turn, but he was too slow.
Cian landed directly behind the mage. Before Jax could complete his sentence, Cian's hand shot out, gripping the back of the mage's head and slamming it into the stone wall of the tunnel.
CRACK.
The Light Orb flickered and died. The tunnel plunged into a suffocating, bruised purple twilight. Jax slumped to the ground, unconscious or dead—Cian didn't care which.
"Who's there!?" Kael shrieked, spinning around. He fumbled for the hilt of his heavy claymore, his movements panicked and unrefined. "Show yourself! I'm a Rank-D Warrior of the Iron Rose! I'll have your head!"
Cian stepped into the faint, dying light of the fallen mana-torch. He didn't look like the boy Kael had abandoned. His posture was straight, his shoulders broad, and his eyes... they were twin pools of frozen red.
Kael froze. His jaw dropped, his breath hitching in his throat. "C-Cian? You're... you're alive? How?"
"The shovel didn't break, Kael," Cian said. His voice was a low, dangerous vibration.
"You... you look different. What did you do? Did you find a relic in the Pits?" Kael's greed began to overtake his fear. He saw the way Cian stood, the way he carried himself. "Give it to me. Whatever you found, it belongs to the party. Give it here and I might let you live as my personal slave."
Cian's response was a click.
The Composite Sword shifted. The segments slid out, glowing with a faint, hungry light.
"You always talked about stats, Kael," Cian said, stepping forward. "You talked about how the Ledger made you a god and me a maggot. Let's test your theology."
Kael roared, finally drawing his claymore. The blade was infused with earth-mana, glowing a dull brown. He swung a massive, overhead cleave—a move designed to crush opponents in a single blow.
In the past, the pressure of that mana alone would have pinned Cian to the floor. Now, it felt like a breeze.
Cian didn't even use his sword to block. He stepped inside the swing, his Agility making Kael look like he was moving through molasses. He caught Kael's wrists.
"Too slow," Cian whispered.
He squeezed.
CRUNCH.
Kael's radius and ulna snapped simultaneously. The claymore clattered to the floor, the earth-mana dissipating instantly. Kael's scream ripped through the tunnels, high-pitched and pathetic.
"My arms! My arms!"
Cian didn't stop. He kicked Kael's kneecap, feeling the bone shatter under his boot. As Kael collapsed, Cian gripped him by the hair and forced him to look at the blood-red interface that was visible only to the predator.
[Notice: Hostility Detected.]
[Would you like to initiate a 'Human Harvest'?]
[Warning: Harvesting a 'Blessed' will mark you as a Fallen to the Ledger.]
Cian hesitated for a fraction of a second. If he did this, there was no going back. He would be a monster in the eyes of the law. He would be the very thing Seraphina was sworn to destroy.
Then he looked at Kael—the man who had laughed while locking a gate on a "useless mouth."
"Confirm," Cian said.
Red tendrils of mist exploded from Cian's chest, wrapping around Kael like hungry vipers. Kael's eyes went wide as his very essence began to be pulled out of his pores. His skin withered, his muscles shrank, and his "Blessed" mana was sucked into the void of the Avarice System.
"Please... stop... Cian... please..."
The voice faded into a dry rattle.
[Harvesting 50% of Target's Raw Stats...]
[Strength: +10 | Agility: +6 | Constitution: +8]
[Luck Roll: SUCCESS.]
[Looting Skill: 'Heavy Strike' (Rank D) acquired.]
Cian let go. Kael's body hit the floor—a husk of a man, stripped of the power he had used to bully the weak. He wasn't dead, but he was worse than a Null. He was a vacuum.
Cian stood up, feeling the new surge of power settle into his marrow. His Strength was now nearing 30. He felt like he could punch through the very crust of the earth.
But then, a cold chill washed over him.
From the end of the tunnel, a soft, rhythmic clapping echoed.
"Impressive," a voice said.
Cian whirled around, his Composite Sword shifting into whip-mode instantly.
It wasn't Seraphina. It was a man dressed in an elegant, charcoal-grey suit that looked entirely too expensive for a sewer. He had silver hair pulled back in a sharp ponytail and wore a monocle that glowed with a faint, analytical violet light.
"Who are you?" Cian demanded, his muscles tensed to spring.
"A fan of the 'unauthorized'," the man said, smiling. He stepped over the unconscious Jax as if he were a piece of trash. "My name is Silas. I represent an organization that finds the Ledger... a bit too restrictive. And you, Cian Thorne, just did something I haven't seen in a hundred years."
Silas pointed his cane at the shriveled Kael. "You didn't just kill him. You ate his destiny. Tell me, Predator... are you still hungry?"