Hex sucked in a breath, the cold air stinging his lungs as he cursed his past self for being so naïve.
Being an orphan, life had always been difficult for him far more than for others.
In his short eighteen years, he'd seen more than most. He'd watched people like himpoor, powerless get beaten, trampled, or straight-up disappear.
He'd narrowly escaped getting mugged several times while delivering food, and it was only thanks to his unusually sturdy physique that he'd made it through unscathed.
All of this had made him crave power.But now that he had it... he understood.Power came with risks. More than he could've imagined.
"Let's not be pessimistic," he muttered to himself.
"I don't know how many people might come after me… and even if they do, I just need to grow strong fast without provoking anyone."
"Alas…it's easier said than done."
After some digging through forums and classified files, he came to a few conclusions:
First, he could copy other people's powers by touching them.
Second, only Gene Essence Crystals could permanently store those powers in his slots.
But the third realization raised a deeper question.
The mysterious screen that kept appearing in his mind.
'Is it part of my superpower… or is there some kind of implant or chip involved?'
While browsing, he stumbled on listings for neural chip hardware that enhanced brain function, often paired with internal AIs that offered real-time analysis and support.
That made him wonder.
"But if I had something like that inside me… wouldn't it have shown up during the Federation's medical scan?"
The uncertainty deepened.
Just as he was getting lost in thought, a loud knock startled him.
"Hey, kid! Time's up. Either recharge your time or leave."
Hex looked toward the door and saw a tall, slender woman standing theremasked, beautiful, and poised with confidence.
He hesitated.
Part of him wanted to stay longer. This place, despite its danger and chaos, had opened up a new world. A world of hidden knowledge, power, and dark potential.
But he was poor. Staying longer wasn't an option.
"…I'll leave."
He returned to the bunny-masked receptionist the same woman who'd checked him in earlier. She handed him back his access token and offered a sleek black headgear mask, far better than the basic hooded cloak he'd been using.
He took it without protest.
As he was about to leave, he paused and asked, "Is there any way to earn credit points here… besides gambling or selling illegal goods?"
The woman's eyes lit up with amusement. A sultry smile curled across her lips.
"Why don't you spend a night with me?" she teased. "I'll pay you 300 credit points. I can tell you're top-class material."
Hex blinked, confused. "You think… women would pay for me?"
She leaned in slightly, her voice like honey. "If you worked in one of the upper brothels, the rich ladies would line up. Trust me."
Hex looked skeptical. "I really don't think I'm that desirable."
The bunny-masked woman gave a playful chuckle, then lowered her gaze to his waist.
"Oh, you've definitely got potential. I can see it." She smirked. "Even as a virgin, I bet you could last at least half an hour. Once trained maybe an hour or two. I've got a special power for this. So believe me."
Hex choked slightly, caught off-guard.
What the hell kind of absurd ability is that?!
"No thanks," he coughed, taking a step back. "I don't plan to… sell my body."
A bead of sweat slid down his temple.
Was every woman in this place like this? Would someone really try to abduct him at this rate?
"Tch… bad luck," the woman sighed with mock disappointment, then leaned back on the desk.
"There is another way. But it's a bit risky."
Hex's ears perked up and he leaned forward.
"What is it?"
......
Hex stepped into a narrow, grimy tunnel, the air thick with sweat, smoke, and the stench of unwashed bodies. Dim neon lights flickered overhead, casting a sickly green hue over rusted pipes and cracked walls. Every few feet, cables sparked dangerously, dancing along the ceiling like serpents barely restrained.
Screams erupted all around.
"I bet 100 on that damned man!"
"200! That son of a bitch's gonna break his neck!"
"500 he knocks the other bastard's teeth out in the next round!"
"Shut up! That guy's got nanofiber bones! I'm betting 700!"
A crowd packed shoulder to shoulder, men and women alike hooting like hyenas, waving credit chips and digital tokens in the air, exchanging bets like addicts starving for blood.
At the center of the chaos was a boxing ring with ropes, only thick, rusted chains welded into jagged loops. The floor was stained dark, dried blood mixed with grease and grime.
Inside the rings, men clashed like animals, one shirtless with cybernetic arms, the other growling, his skin flashing with visible energy veins.
Metal clanged, flesh slammed, the sound of punches echoed like thunder in the tunnel. A tooth flew, followed by a snarl.
Hex paused, eyes narrowing, taking in the madness. This wasn't a fight it was a warzone with cheerleaders.
Above the ring, plastered along the crumbling walls were rows of posters. About forty in total. Most were worn and torn, some marked with large red Xs across the face.
All except one.
Luther-Current Champion.
A stoic man with half his face replaced by chrome. A scar ran from his chin to his neck, and his eyes burned like molten steel.
'So all those marked were former champions... dethroned, broken, or dead.'
Hex glanced back at the ring. The one holding the crown now had to be terrifying.Strong enough to crush heads... yet still here, rotting in this sewer.
'Why?'
'Why is someone like him here instead of serving in the army or ruling somewhere higher?'
It gnawed at Hex leaving him in contradiction.
The people worshipped awakened heroes and galactic elites... yet so many gifted individuals rotted in this underworld pit.
'Tch. No one would answer even if I asked.'
Snorting quietly, Hex turned to a man standing beside him, face painted with smoke smudges and wild excitement.
"I want to register for a fight," Hex said calmly.
The man was too busy jumping and yelling until he noticed Hex. Without even looking twice, he shoved Hex to the side and barked, "Over there! To the table!"
Hex adjusted his coat and moved through the crowd, heading toward the shadowy corner where a crooked table stood beneath a busted LED panel.
Two burly men sat there, one counting physical tickets, the other watching a floating screen with scrolling betting odds.
There was a short line. Hex waited his turn.
When he stepped forward, one of the mena hairy brute with a scar across his lipgrunted without looking up.
"Name?"
"Hellfire."
"Awakened?"
"Yes."
"Power?"
"Can't tell."
That made the man pause. His eyes slowly rose to meet Hex's. The mask, the cold posture, the vague answer it all clicked.
"Kekeke... I thought you'd be one of those wide-eyed rookies that spill everything like an idiot. But you've got a spine. I like that."
Hex didn't react.
"Alright, alright..." The man clicked on the screen and dragged a chip out of a drawer.
"Entrance fee: 500 credits."
Hex hesitated. His fingers twitched near his wallet.
Noticing this, the man leaned forward with a smirk. "Yeah, it's steep. But listen if you win a match, you'll walk away with 10,000 if odds are good. Win more, and the stakes multiply. We take a 20% house cut. You keep the rest. Fair?"
Hex smiled under the mask. "Fair… if I stay alive, right?"
That made the man burst into laughter. "Hah! I'm really starting to like you, kid."
"Alright, go wait in the holding bay. We'll call you when your match is ready. Don't die too quickly. It ruins the fun."
Hex nodded once, then turned, eyes scanning the crowd once more.