Vell just stood there for a solid ten seconds, processing the system's words. His grand, life-changing power-up, the key to his revenge and new future, was a pet-collecting skill? The sheer absurdity of it made him want to laugh, and he did, a short bark of disbelief that echoed in the alley.
"Beast taming," he said out loud, just to hear how ridiculous it sounded. "I sat in a dumpster for a month to become a Pokemon trainer."
He needed new clothes before anything else, so he grabbed that shirt from the line he'd been eyeing, plus a pair of worn but sturdy trousers that were hanging next to it. The woman had gone back inside, making it easy to snatch them without confrontation, and he didn't feel particularly guilty about it since the alternative was walking around looking like he'd crawled out of a sewer, which technically he had.
After changing behind some bushes and tossing his ruined clothes in a trash can, he found a quiet park to sit and think. The place was nice, one of those small neighborhood parks with old equipment and benches that had seen better days.
He leaned against a tree, watching kids chase each other around a playground while their parents scrolled through their phones on nearby benches.
It was peaceful, almost surreal after everything he'd been through. With his new senses, he could feel the life in the park more deeply than ever before, like the world had suddenly gained extra dimensions.
He could hear the rustle of every leaf in the breeze, pick out individual conversations from the parents twenty meters away, and even sense the tiny heartbeat of a squirrel climbing the tree above him.
'This is what players feel all the time? No wonder they act like they're better than everyone else.'
After a few minutes of just breathing and adjusting to his enhanced perception, he finally spoke, keeping his voice low so nobody would think he was talking to himself.
"So, let me get this straight, you're a beast-taming system?"
[Yes, that's my main function.]
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, which felt strange now that it was clean instead of matted with grease and dirt. His fingers moved smoothly through it, another reminder of how much had changed.
"Beast taming, huh? I'm a little disappointed, not gonna lie, but I guess it's still a good ability if you can tame really strong monsters."
[Let me explain. My main function is indeed taming, but I have sub-skills stemming from that, like the Evolution Forge. It's a skill that can evolve any beast or monster into a stronger version of itself. I have many other functions, but for now, you can only use the Evolution Forge, and even that is limited to monsters weaker than or around the same level as you.]
His disappointment faded a bit, replaced by genuine intrigue. 'Evolution Forge? That actually sounds kind of badass.'
He watched a pigeon pecking at some crumbs near a trash can and wondered what it would evolve into. Probably something terrible knowing his luck, like a pigeon that could shit acid or something.
"That's actually not bad at all," he admitted, looking down at his hands and feeling the mana flowing through him, just waiting to be discharged. "Evolving beasts could be really useful if I play it smart."
He stood up, brushing dirt off his stolen pants, and stretched until his joints popped. His body felt amazing, like he could run forever or punch through walls, and he needed to test these limits.
"I'd like to head straight for a dungeon, but I don't think that's how things work around here since you need permits and a team and all that bureaucratic bullshit. Maybe I should go to that big association building in the city center, get registered as a player officially."
[The best and safest location in this region? Isn't that pretty far? How will you get there?]
A grin spread across his face, the kind of grin that would have worried anyone who knew him back when he had things to lose.
"What do you mean? I'll run, obviously."
[...You're going to run 80 kilometers?]
"Yeah, why not? This'll be a good chance to test myself since I'm restless just sitting here with all this power flowing through me, and I need to release it somehow before I explode."
His stomach let out a loud, demanding growl that made a nearby mother look over with concern before quickly looking away when she saw his appearance.
"But first," he added, pressing a hand to his empty stomach, "I need to find something to eat, a proper meal, not garbage or scraps."
The problem was that a proper meal required money, and he had exactly zero credits to his name. The old Vell would have just gone hungry or begged, but the old Vell was dead in a dumpster somewhere, replaced by someone who'd learned that playing by the rules only got you stepped on.
After a few minutes of thinking, a plan formed in his mind that was simple, effective, and morally questionable enough that his pre-betrayal self would have been horrified.
He found a small, bustling mini-market on the edge of the business district, the kind of place that catered to office workers grabbing lunch. It had a hot food counter that smelled like fried everything and made his mouth water so much he had to wipe drool off his chin.
He strolled up to the counter, putting on his most polite, harmless face, the one he used to wear to job interviews back when he thought hard work and honesty mattered.
"Hi, could I get an order of fried chips, two small drinks, and one of those large sausage rolls?" he asked the young girl behind the counter, who couldn't have been older than seventeen.
She smiled at him, a bright, genuine smile that made his stomach twist with guilt he quickly suppressed. "Sure thing, and we added a little extra for supporting our shop," she said, handing him a bag that was warm and smelled like heaven.
He forced a fake smile in return. "Thank you so much, by the way, do you have any beef pies back there?"
"Let me check real quick!" She turned and hurried into the back storage area, her cheerful energy making him feel like absolute trash.
The moment she was out of sight, he grabbed the bag and bolted.
He didn't look back, didn't slow down, just sprinted out of the shop and down the street, weaving through the crowds with his new speed. Part of him felt bad for the girl who'd been nothing but nice, but the part that had spent months eating from dumpsters felt nothing at all.
'Sorry kid, but I've got places to be and no money to get there.'
He could almost imagine her coming back to find him gone, that bright smile fading into confusion and then disappointment when she realized what happened. She'd probably get in trouble with her manager, might even get fired if they were strict about theft.
'A thief, a really handsome thief at least, but I'm definitely going to get fired,' he imagined her thinking.
By the time anyone could have called the cops, he was already out of town, running at a speed that would have killed his old self. The world blurred past in streams of color as his legs carried him forward in long, powerful strides that ate up the distance.
Each step covered several meters, his body moving with a grace and efficiency he'd never experienced before. The mana from his cores flowed through his legs like liquid power, making him feel like he could run forever.
[...If you keep using your mana like that, you'll run out before you're even halfway there.]
"Is that so? Wanna bet on that?"
The system didn't respond, probably because it was too busy trying to figure out how he was doing what he was doing. After just an hour of running, he'd covered over seven kilometers and wasn't even breathing hard. His mana reserves had barely dipped, like he'd figured out some exploit in the system that shouldn't exist.
['What the hell is up with him? He's just a newbie—he should be out of mana and gasping by now. But somehow, his mana pool has barely depleted. How is he using it so effectively at such an early stage?']
The system was clearly confused, but Vell just kept running, enjoying the feeling of his own power and the wind against his face. It was the first time in months he'd felt truly free, like he could go anywhere and do anything.
After another hour of running, he found himself on the outskirts of the next city over, his stomach demanding attention again.
"Okay, this spot should be fine, I'm starving."
He found a collapsed skyscraper that looked like it had been that way for years, probably from some dungeon break that never got properly cleaned up. The massive structure was a twisted wreck of steel and concrete, creating a maze of hidden corners and shadowy spaces perfect for someone who didn't want to be found.
He found a comfortable corner inside, hidden from view by fallen debris, and finally sat down to eat his stolen meal.
He pulled the food from the bag, the smell making his mouth water so much he had to swallow repeatedly. The sausage roll was still warm, its pastry golden and flaky, and when he took that first huge bite, the flavor exploded in his mouth like fireworks.
Savory meat, herbs, grease, salt, everything his body had been craving for months hit him all at once. His taste buds, long accustomed to stale bread and spoiled food, went into overdrive trying to process actual flavor again.
He devoured the entire meal in less than five minutes, barely pausing to breathe between bites. His expression was a strange mix of joy and sadness, tears actually forming in his eyes from the simple pleasure of eating real food. When he was finally full, properly full for the first time in forever, a wave of sleepiness washed over him like a warm blanket.
"Ahh, that was so good," he said, patting his satisfied stomach. "Now I need a nap since you can't run on a full stomach after all."
[Isn't it the other way around? And are you sure sleeping out here is a good idea?]
"It's fine, I'll only sleep for about an hour, I prom—"
He was out before he could even finish the sentence, his body finally relaxing after days of tension and pain.
His promised one-hour nap stretched into five.
The sun had set completely, leaving the collapsed skyscraper filled with long shadows and patches of absolute darkness. As he shifted in his sleep, his enhanced senses picked up something that made his consciousness stir, faint whispers approaching from the entrance.
The voices were trying to stay quiet, but his new hearing picked them up clear as day. He kept his breathing steady and his body still, pretending to stay asleep while he listened.
"Boss, are you sure this is a good idea?" a man with a rough, gravelly voice whispered. Through his barely open eyes, Vell could see he was big, with a scarred face and gang tattoos, clutching what looked like a modified pistol.
"Shut up, or you'll wake him, you idiot," the leader hissed back. He was tall and skinny with spiky hair dyed green, carrying some kind of glowing weapon that was definitely stolen from a player. "Just go over there and choke him or something since we can't afford to waste bullets right now."
The big guy nodded and moved forward cautiously, his large hands reaching for Vell's neck with practiced ease that said this wasn't his first time.
Just as his fingers were about to close around his throat, Vell's eyes snapped open.
He shot up from the ground, delivering a brutal double kick to the man's face that sent him crashing into a concrete pillar with a sickening crunch. The sound of breaking teeth echoed in the space.
Vell landed on his feet perfectly balanced and let out a long, theatrical yawn, stretching his arms and legs as if he'd just woken from a refreshing nap instead of nearly being murdered. He completely ignored the stunned leader and glanced outside, noticing how dark it had gotten.
"Crap, I slept too long, now I'll have to run at night."
He turned his gaze back to the leader, his expression completely blank and somehow more terrifying because of it, then started walking toward him with slow, deliberate steps.
"You know, there's one thing that annoys me more than anything else—"
The leader, panicking, cut him off by firing his weapon. It shot out small, crackling balls of energy that would have fried a normal person. Vell dodged them with casual ease, barely seeming to move but somehow never being where the shots landed.
Before the leader could even process what was happening, Vell was standing right in front of him, close enough that he could smell the fear-sweat and cheap cologne. Their eyes met, and the leader saw something in Vell's gaze that made his knees weak, a cold, piercing look that promised nothing but pain.
"As I was saying," he continued, his voice dangerously calm like he was discussing the weather, "I hate being woken up, couldn't you have been polite and waited until I was done with my nap?"
The leader started to shake, his stolen weapon clattering to the ground. Unlike Vell, he was just an ordinary person trying to survive in a harsh world by taking from others. This was a player standing in front of him, he could feel it in his bones, that overwhelming presence that separated the awakened from everyone else.
"We're... sorry?" he stammered, his voice cracking.
But apologies didn't change the fact that they had disturbed his nap and tried to kill him. Vell smirked, the expression not reaching his eyes, then grabbed the leader's face with one hand and lifted him off the ground like he weighed nothing.
"Sorry doesn't fix my interrupted sleep," he said conversationally before casually tossing the man across the room into a pile of rubble.
"B-Boss!" the big guy shouted, somehow getting back up despite his broken face, trying to prove his loyalty by attacking again.
This time, Vell made sure he wouldn't get up. A hard, precise kick to the groin that made every man in a five-mile radius wince in sympathy, and the big guy crumpled to the floor, unconscious before he hit the ground.
"Haah, I don't have time for this," he muttered, then noticed the leader's dropped weapon. "I wonder..."
A few minutes later, Vell was sprinting through the night again, the collapsed skyscraper far behind him. In his hand was a small leather pouch containing a satisfyingly heavy 200 credits, plus the glowing weapon that he'd figure out how to use later.
'A good meal and a little extra cash, maybe this new life won't be so bad after all.'