Ren stood in the middle of his room, his right arm extended stiffly away from his body like he was holding an invisible shield.
Experiment number one had been a failure. He had tried to put on a leather glove to conceal the shimmering distortion around his hand. The moment the leather made contact with his skin, it turned gray, cracked, and dissolved into a fine mist of organic particles.
[Absorbed Leather Essence. Vitality +0.01]
"Okay," Ren muttered, sweat beading on his forehead. "No gloves. No pockets. Do not scratch my nose. Got it."
He looked at the mirror one last time. He was wearing his gray Awakening issue tunic and the neon-orange vest that marked him as a [Sanitation Worker]. It was the uniform of the invisible. In Sector 9, nobody made eye contact with the trash collectors. It was the perfect camouflage.
He carefully opened his door with his left hand and stepped out into the hallway. The apartment complex was quiet, save for the hum of the mana-conduits in the walls and the distant sound of a crying baby.
Ren didn't take the elevator. He took the stairs, moving down twelve floors with a surprising spring in his step. The +2 Strength and +4 Agility from the dumbbell and the door handle he'd accidentally brushed earlier were already making a difference. His body felt lighter, the chronic ache in his knees from malnutrition fading away.
He stepped out into the night. Sector 9 was a labyrinth of wet asphalt and flickering holograms advertising "Cheap Mana Potions" and "Quick Loans." Overhead, the maglev trains zoomed by on silent tracks, ferrying the elites of the Upper Sectors to their sky-palaces.
Ren pulled his hood up with his left hand and started walking. He knew exactly where he was going.
The Sector 9 Scrapyard.
It was a massive landfill on the edge of the district, where the broken remnants of the city were dumped. Destroyed mechs, burned-out hovercars, and industrial waste. To most, it was a hazard. To Ren, tonight, it was an all-you-can-eat buffet.
The entrance to the Scrapyard was blocked by a chain-link fence topped with mana-barbed wire. A drone hovered near the gate, its red optic scanning the perimeter.
Ren approached the employee turnstile. He held his breath, his heart pounding. If the system flagged him, he was dead. Security drones were equipped with stun-bolts that could incapacitate a Level 10 Warrior.
He fished out his new ID card with his left hand and swiped it.
Beep.
[ID Verified: Renjiro Walker. Class: Sanitation Worker. Access Granted.]
The gate clicked open.
"Thank god for low-security clearance," Ren exhaled, slipping inside. Because he was officially "trash personnel," the system assumed he was there to work the graveyard shift.
The smell hit him instantly—a cocktail of rotting synthetic rubber, rusted metal, and old mana fluid. Mountains of debris towered over him, silhouetted against the purple smog of the night sky.
Ren walked deep into the yard, away from the main cameras, until he found a secluded canyon formed by two massive piles of scrap metal.
"Alright," Ren whispered, looking at his right hand. The distortion in the air seemed to be hungry. "Let's see what you can do."
He walked up to the nearest object: a rusted chassis of a pre-war sedan. It was a hunk of metal weighing at least two tons.
He placed his right palm flat against the hood.
Hiss.
The sound was like sand pouring through an hourglass. A web of grey cracks instantly shot out from his palm, spreading across the entire car in a heartbeat. The paint peeled and vanished. The metal turned to slate, then to dust. The tires disintegrated.
In less than three seconds, the two-ton car collapsed into a heap of sparkling, grey powder. The pile was massive, glowing faintly in the dark.
Ren took a deep breath.
The dust swirled violently, rushing into him like a grey tornado.
[System Alert]
Absorbed High-Density Steel & Polymer Essence.
Strength +5
Vitality +4
Agility +2
"Whoa..." Ren staggered back, grabbing his chest. The rush was intense. It felt like drinking five espressos mixed with liquid fire. His muscles twitched, knitting themselves tighter. The fabric of his shirt strained slightly against his shoulders.
"More," he gasped.
He turned to a pile of discarded combat droid parts. He touched a robotic arm. Poof. Dust. He touched a severed mech head. Poof. Dust.
[Strength +1]
[Intelligence +0.5]
[Agility +1]
He moved through the scrapyard like a plague. He didn't have to lift anything. He didn't have to study it. He just had to touch it. He was converting thousands of years of waste into pure power.
He found a stack of depleted Mana Batteries, the size of coffins. Even "depleted" batteries had trace amounts of volatile chemicals.
He brushed his fingers against the lead casing.
Whoosh.
[Absorbed Volatile Alchemical Residue.]
[Mana +10]
[Mana +12]
[Mana +8]
"My mana..." Ren checked his status. His mana pool, which had started at a pathetic 2, was now over 30. That was the capacity of a Level 10 Apprentice Mage. And he had only been here for twenty minutes.
He was drunk on the sensation. He moved faster, his Agility allowing him to leap over piles of jagged metal that would have cut his old self to ribbons.
Suddenly, a low growl echoed from the darkness behind a wall of tires.
Ren froze. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up.
He slowly turned around. Emerging from the shadows was a creature the size of a wolf, but its skin was hairless and pale, covered in weeping sores. Its eyes glowed with a feral yellow light.
[Scrap Hound (Level 4)]
A mutated beast. They lived in the dumps, feeding on organic waste and mana leaks.
Ren's blood went cold. He was Level 1. A Level 4 monster was a death sentence for a civilian. A Scrap Hound could crush bone with a single bite.
The hound lowered its head, drool dripping from its jaws. It crouched, ready to spring.
Ren raised his right hand instinctively. "Stay back!"
But then he remembered the description. Anything non-living.
This dog was alive.
If he touched it with the [Touch of The Grey King], nothing would happen. The skill wouldn't age it. It wouldn't turn to dust.
"Crap," Ren hissed.
The Scrap Hound lunged.
It moved faster than Ren expected, a blur of teeth and claws. Ren threw himself to the left.
Slash.
The claws raked across his chest, tearing through his vest and tunic. Pain flared, hot and sharp, but it wasn't deep.
Wait, Ren thought, rolling to his feet. That should have gutted me.
He looked at his chest. There were three red lines, bleeding sluggishly, but his ribs were intact. His Vitality stat, boosted by the car and the batteries, had hardened his skin.
The hound landed and turned, snarling, confused why its prey wasn't screaming.
Ren looked at his hands. He couldn't use the Forbidden Skill on the dog. But he wasn't the weak boy from this morning anymore.
He glanced at his status window quickly.
Strength: 28
Agility: 21
An average adult male had 10 Strength. A trained soldier might have 20. Ren was pushing nearly three times the strength of a normal man.
The hound leaped again, aiming for his throat.
Time seemed to slow down. Ren could see the beast's trajectory. His boosted Agility kicked in.
He didn't dodge this time. He stepped in.
"Get lost!" Ren roared.
He planted his feet and swung his left fist—his normal hand—in a vicious uppercut, aiming right for the hound's soft underbelly.
CRACK.
The impact was sickeningly loud. Ren's fist sank into the beast's stomach. The sheer force of 28 Strength lifted the hundred-pound monster into the air. Ribs shattered.
The Scrap Hound yelped—a high-pitched, pathetic sound—and flew backward, crashing into a pile of washing machines. It twitched once, coughed up black blood, and went still.
[System Notification]
Defeated [Scrap Hound (Level 4)]
Experience Gained.
Level Up!
Level 1 -> Level 2
Ren stood there, panting, his left hand throbbing. He looked at his fist. It was bruised, but he had just killed a monster with a single punch. A monster that would have required a party of armed guards to handle.
He looked at the dead hound, then at the mountain of trash surrounding him.
He had 23 hours left on the timer.
A dark, predatory smile crossed his face.
"I'm not done," Ren whispered to the silence of the dump. "I'm just getting started. I'm going to eat this whole place."
He turned his gaze toward the center of the Scrapyard, where the colossal wreckage of a decommissioned War-Ship lay rusting. It was the size of a building.
Ren began to run toward it.