[You've gathered 15 points of Fear.]
[You've inflicted permanent Trauma on 2 people.]
As I wash the blood off of my hands in a crystal-clear lake, I can't help but shake my head in disgust.
''That was disgusting, even by my standards...''
Sigh.
''But it works well.''
If all goes well, tomorrow there should be at least some gain to my infamy. Even if minuscule, it would prove that I can gather Fear indirectly, by becoming a legend, a horror story that's passed down from one person to another.
''If they make it back safely, that is...''
Eventually, someone will likely go and investigate what's going on, especially if their suspicion lies in demonic factions. I have perhaps a few more days before the Sect leader comes to investigate.
''Well, that's more than enough time for my little experiment.''
I look down, my hands still covered with dark streams of blood. How many people was it? How many did I kill since I arrived? 50? Or perhaps 100?
Yet I feel nothing. No remorse, no guilt.
''Was I always broken like this?''
In my first life, the most I did was get into fistfights for some adrenaline rush. I never felt the need to kill, nor the desire to do so. The power that I had came from material things. Money and status. Those were my weapons.
But now... everything is different. If I kill in the right way, I get rewarded for it. If I spread terror and suffering, I become stronger. The process is different, but the ultimate goal remains the same.
Not to mention, there are times when I genuinely enjoy the process. I smiled more within these few days than I did in the years of my previous life. Is this the system's influence, or was this hidden deep within me all along, simply constrained by the society I lived in?
''Too many questions, too few answers.''
Whatever the case may be, I do not intend to stop. On the contrary, I will keep evolving, exploiting every last piece of this system, and become an existence that's feared throughout this world. Perhaps then, I can find the happiness I've been searching for so long.
In one fluid motion, I stand up, the robe fluttering in the wind as I do so. With the blood all done and washed away, I make my way back to the city.
With the Silent Pulse Breathing concealing my presence, I jump over the city walls and find an inn to settle in.
As a hotspot for cultivators and travelers, there are many all around. Nearly every street has one. But there's one that piques my interest for a different reason.
''Someone whose cultivation I can't read?''
With my curiosity piqued, I slowly enter the inn and make my way to the closest table. My eyes drift around the whole interior, trying to find the source of the unidentified Qi.
'Is it him?'
My gaze lands on a drunk man with two daggers neatly hanging by his waist. Perhaps due to a weak body, or suppressed cultivation, he appeared to be dead drunk. But a certain herbal aroma came off of his daggers.
'Poison? Could he be an assassin?'
Despite being this close, there's nothing I can tell about this man. His strength, temper, affiliation—all remain a mystery to me.
'I don't like it. I should keep my distance.'
Creak...
The chair creaks beneath me as I push myself up, resulting in a few eyeballs gathering at my place. Two of which went against my initial plan to sneak out.
Seemingly woken up from his drunken stupor, he begins to carefully study my figure.
'He's looking at me...'
The man frowns in my direction, his brown eyes meeting mine just as his mouth slowly opens,
''Hey... Hic... You... Who are youu?''
...
Great. What should I do now...
.
.
.
[STATUS]
[Name: Han Ye]
[Age: 18]
[Cultivation: Terror Manifestation Realm - Late Stage ▸ Qi Condensation - Early Stage]
[Fear Points: 3 691]
[Trauma: +523/day]
[Infamy: +24/day]
[Fear Points needed for the next stage: 6 000]
[Techniques: Shadowless Step, Thousand Faces Arts (incomplete), Silent Pulse Breathing, Crow Shroud Technique]