Chapter 32: Encounter part 3

[ ] = Doruuk Thoughts

{ } = System message

"But first, we need to review our stats," I say firmly, cutting through the mood of premature celebration. "We need a flawless plan, and for that, I need as much information as possible to build stronger strategies."

My voice sharpens as I outline the essentials. "We need to know everything—our ranks, our combat styles, how our synergies might work, and more." I pause before adding, with emphasis, "And I must proceed with caution… I'm only Rank 9."

A tense silence falls over the group. Zaira's gaze narrows slightly, while Otis raises an eyebrow. But it's Kael—the red-haired twin—who breaks the stillness with a high-pitched, mocking laugh.

"What? Rank 9?! Hahaha! That's way too low!" His voice booms across the cemetery, breaking the sacred stillness of the tombstones. "Zaira, where the hell did you find this guy? Hahaha!"

His laughter feels like a slap. His green eyes gleam with condescension, as if I'm a child who's wandered into the adults' table.

[His laughter is seriously getting under my skin.]

"Enough, Kael!" Zaira snaps, her tone sharp as a blade.

But Kael isn't done. "Why should I stop? He's weaker than all of us. Look at him!" He points a finger straight at me, mocking. "That story about him killing twenty guys? Sounds like a bedtime fairytale."

His twin, Eldon, shifts uncomfortably and steps in. "Kael, that's enough. You shouldn't judge someone by appearances." His voice is calm, but there's firmness beneath it.

Even Otis chimes in, his deep voice rolling like distant thunder. "He's right. Dial it back."

Zaira turns to Kael with eyes that could pierce armor. "Keep pushing it, and you'll regret it."

Their voices rise, tension crackling in the air like the moment before a storm. The rest of the team takes a cautious step back.

[I'll show him. Rank 9, huh? Let's see how harmless I really am.]

With a smooth, almost invisible motion, I crouch down and pick up a small pebble from the ground. Insignificant—just like how Kael sees me. I flick it toward him with a snap of the wrist.

The stone strikes Kael square on the temple. Not hard enough to hurt, but exactly where I aimed.

"What was that?" Kael scoffs, touching the spot. "Did that offend you? Hahaha, wai—"

His laugh dies in his throat.

{Character's strength has increased.}{Fear has increased.}

A faint black glow appears where the pebble struck—an ominous mark now pulsing on Kael's temple. His smug expression twists into confusion.

I step forward, every move deliberate, eyes locked onto his. "That mark on your head? It means you're vulnerable. And more importantly, it disables all healing." My voice is calm—almost gentle, in contrast to the danger of what I'm explaining. "If I chose, I could slit your throat right now. Or stab you in the gut and let you bleed out. No potion, no spell—nothing would help you. You'd die slowly, painfully. Either fight and survive… or die."

Silence. Even the wind seems to freeze.

Kael's confidence begins to falter, replaced by something he clearly hasn't felt in a long time: fear.

[The mark should disappear any second now.]

But Kael's pride won't let him back down. His fear hardens into rage. In a flash, he grabs his bow, notches an arrow, and draws it aimed at my heart. His fingers tremble.

{Character has used "Escape."}

Before he can release, I move. Time seems to slow as I activate my escape skill. In a blink, I'm on him. My fist slams into his gut, knocking the wind out of him. The bow hits the ground with a dull clatter.

Kael doubles over.

I shove him to the ground, draw my dagger, and press it to his throat. The blade gleams under the moonlight.

"Anyone else have doubts?" I ask, my voice cold and steady as I scan the others.

Zaira watches with a mix of surprise and admiration. Eldon instinctively reaches for his bow, but makes no move. Otis folds his arms, his face unreadable.

Silence. Only Kael's ragged breathing fills the air.

"Good. Let's move on, Zaira." I sheath the dagger and rise. Kael remains on the ground, clutching his stomach—his ego more bruised than his body.

"Speak," Zaira says, her voice tinged with new respect.

I step forward, face serious, and extend a hand.

"I, Doruuk Velor, am ready to work with you." My voice is clear, unwavering. "Accept me into your team and your mission—because now, I'm eager to see money rain down on us all."

A slow smile spreads across Zaira's lips. Her lone visible eye glints with satisfaction.

"Welcome to the team, Doruuk," she says, gripping my hand with surprising strength.

Then she pulls a folded note from her jacket, sealed with red wax. She hands it to me.

"This is where we'll meet next—our base," she explains. "For today, we're done. See you tomorrow, Doruuk."

I nod and pocket the note. "Very well."

As the team leaves, I linger for a moment in the moonlit cemetery. The cold wind brushes my face, and the tombstones stand quietly, bearing witness.

I glance down at the paper in my hand.

[Nice.]

Chapter-End.