My ribs felt like they were vibrating. That was the first thing I noticed. The second thing was the smell—wet concrete, fried synth-pork from a nearby stall, and the ozone stink of cheap magic.
"Yo, trash! Are you lagging or just stupid?"
The voice was annoying. High-pitched, scratchy, like audio played through a blown-out speaker.
I blinked, trying to wipe the rainwater and mud out of my eyes. A boot slammed into my stomach, knocking the wind out of me. The pain was sharp, immediate, and high-definition. This wasn't the dulled sensory input of a high-level avatar. This was raw, Level 1 weakness.
I coughed, curling into a ball on the slick pavement. A holographic interface flickered in the corner of my vision, transparent and glitchy.
[HP: 12 / 50 (CRITICAL)]25Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjfG543rLjy
[STATUS: BLEEDING, HUNGRY]
Twelve HP? That wouldn't even buy a sandwich in this city. In Neo-Hong Kong, your Health Points are your bank account. You pay rent with your life force. You buy noodles with your blood. If you hit zero, you don't just faint. You get evicted from reality.
"Hey! Look at me when I'm farming you!"
I looked up. Standing over me was a guy wearing a modified school uniform—the blazer sleeves ripped off to show off neon tattoos that pulsed with weak mana. He had a greasy undercut and the face of someone who spent way too much time bullying noobs to compensate for his own mediocrity.
Chen. I remembered him. An F-Tier thug who peaked in high school and died in a gutter three years later during a Guild War.
"Chen," I croaked. My voice sounded young. Too young.
"Oh, he remembers my name!" Chen laughed, turning to his side. "Hear that, guys? The glitch remembers who owns him."
I glanced around. We were behind the gymnasium of District 9 High. The sky above was a heavy, bruised purple, choked with smog and holographic advertisements for "Healing Potions - 50% Off!" It was raining hard, the water glowing slightly from the neon signs reflecting off the puddles.
This was ten years ago. I was seventeen. I was a nobody.
"Check his pockets," Chen commanded. He didn't have any lackeys with him today, just his Summon.
A wolf materialized from thin air next to him. Well, calling it a "wolf" was generous. It was a Spirit Mutt—a low-level summon that looked like a husky made of blue smoke and bad rendering. It growled at me, drool sizzling as it hit the wet pavement.
"Hand over your daily transfer, Kai," Chen spat, crouching down so his face was inches from mine. "I need fifty HP for a new loot box key. Don't make me zero you out."
Fifty HP? That would kill me instantly.
I stared at him. The old Kai—the scared kid I used to be—would have begged. He would have offered to do Chen’s homework or clean his boots.
But I wasn't that kid. I was a top-tier strategist who had cleared the abyssal raids. I looked at Chen, and I didn't see a bully. I saw a collection of sloppy code and wasted stats.
A transparent window hovered over his head.
[Chen (Level 4)]25Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡanvOajBbhE
[Class: Beast Tamer (Common)]25Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxuTwTPY9EY
[Threat Level: Trivial]
"I don't have fifty," I said, my voice steady.
Chen’s eyes narrowed. "Then I'll take it out of your corpse and respawn you at the clinic. Get him, Blue!"
The Spirit Mutt lunged.
ns216.73.216.10da2
and then Add to home screen.