This Wasn't A System

"Hey, you got it?"

The boy, dressed in some bullsh*t street fashion—baggy jeans sagging way too low, a snapback tilted like he was trying too hard, and a fake chain that clanked every time he moved—asked with a lazy drawl, his hands stuffed into his pockets like he was mimicking something he saw in a film.

"Yeah, I got it,"

The child moved in, reaching into his pocket for the money, while the dealer did the same, bringing out the merchandise. Neither of them appeared nervous, simply going through the motions. They both cast a leisurely glance about, not out of paranoia, but just habit.

As their hands approached each other, the dealer hesitated and raised an eyebrow.

"Hey, what are you doing?"

"What—what do you mean? I'm giving you the money," the kid whispered

"Don't whisper, man. Just talk normal. You acting like this is some top-secret FBI sting or something."

"Okay," the youngster mumbled, straightening his back as if he were changing his act.

"Okay?"

"Okay, I got it!!!!!!"

"Thank you"

"Hey, man, wassup? What've you been up to?" — kid

The dealer gave him the side-eye.

"Bro, what's with the small talk? Just take your shit and go."

"I'm just trying to act natural," the kid explained, waving his hand as if this were typical behavior.

"You ain't acting natural, you're acting weird. Just be normal."

The boy chuckled and brushed it aside. "Whatever, man, here, just take it."

"Finally," the dealer mumbled.

The deal was quick—cash for goods. No tension, no intense eyes, simply another mindless transaction in a dark alley. The boy shoved his item into his huge pockets, adjusted his streetwear as if it meant something, and went away. The dealer hardly glanced his way before turning away and forgetting everything.

////

"Good evening, this is Kim Ji-yeon, reporting live from Ulsan City, where an alarming string of incidents have taken place today. In a highly disturbing development, local police have made significant arrests in what is believed to be one of the largest drug operations in the region. Surprisingly, all ten of the individuals arrested today were minors—addicts tangled in the vicious web of drugs, undermining not only their futures but the very safety of the city."

According to the authorities, these crimes were not isolated incidents, but rather part of a larger network that has plagued the city for months. If this pattern continues, Ulsan may soon become one of the top five most dangerous cities in South Korea, a shocking increase in crime that could destabilize the city's reputation and growth.

/////

An old man with a cheerful expression says this to Amir while holding a bowl in his hand. He says it as a joke, but it's true.

"Don't you imitate those bastards or your life would end like a dirt mop. HAHAHA!"

Amir, sitting in the kitchen, laughs nervously in response, his gaze fixed on the noodles in front of him.

"Ah-haha," he exclaimed, barely audible as he slurped his noodles.

Despite the shock of hearing such news, Ulsan is still regarded as one of Korea's safest cities, but Amir appeared unconcerned with the rising crime rate. His thoughts were far from the report. The memory of recent events stayed in his thoughts, but his attention was drawn to the warmth of his dinner and the peace that only a bowl of noodles could provide.

"Hmmm, nothing's more delicious than Mr. Kang's noodles," Amir reflected, savoring the moment of calm.

Suddenly, his phone vibrated with a notification.

"Beepp beeppp beeep!"

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, revealing a message from Intang.

"Dong, don't forget to eat your dinner, or you'll go crazy again."

"I won't be able to visit you 'cause I'm doing my plates right now."

"Hey, what could possible be a great gift for a boy's birthday?"

"Amir?"

"Ok, goodbye. Simply take care of yourself.

Amir grumbled and put his phone back in his pocket. He was not in the mood for any additional diversions. With a slight shake of his head, he resumed slurping his noodles, not missing a single moment of his little piece of bliss.

"Slurpppp, Ahhhhhh."

"Here's my payment, Mr. Kang," Amir remarked, wiping his mouth with a delighted grin.

"What, you're finished with just one medium-sized bowl of noodles?" Mr. Kang questioned, his voice tinged with astonishment. "You, of all people, usually eat three large bowls when you come into my kitchen."

Amir hesitated, a curious sense of awareness sweeping over him. Even I'm confused at how I could be full so easily... The last time I ate here, I couldn't leave till my stomach was screaming for mercy, he thought to himself.

"Ahh, haha, I'm on a calorie deficit right now, like some sort of diet," Amir replied nonchalantly, passing the payment over with a shrug.

Mr. Kang, however, observed something on Amir's wrist. He squinted, attempting to get a better view.

"How much does it cost?" Mr. Kang said, looking toward the complex tattoo on Amir's wrist.

"Cost what?" Amir answered, perplexed for a while.

"Your tattoo," Mr. Kang observed, inspecting it closely. "It's like some sort of expensive tattoo I've seen. It's... very alive. It almost feels like it moves."

Amir merely smiled, a calm, almost distant smile, and didn't utter a thing. Without acknowledging the old man's comment any further, he grabbed a paper tissue from the corner of the counter, wiped his hands, and stood up.

With a short nod, Amir strolled toward the open kitchen's edge, stepping out into the calm of the night.

"Well, take care, and come again, young man," Mr. Kang yelled out as Amir left.

Amir didn't look back, but the smallest glimmer of a smile flickered on his face.

After then, Amir strolled along the sidewalk, his mind was clouded with confusion as he tried to digest all that had just happened. It everything felt unreal, yet he knew with perfect conviction that it was genuine.

"All that sh*t I went through… just to get this power I never even wanted." He murmured under his breath.

"Where the hell can I even use it?

Am I meant to be some superhero now? Saving civilians like in the movies? Fvck, I can't even bear the sight of blood…"

His thoughts trailed off, unfinished.

BANGGG!!!!!

A thunderous gunshot broke his stream of thinking. His instincts shouted at him, but before he could react, a system-like voice echoed in his thoughts.

[Warning! The host is under attack by an unknown force.]

Before he could even think, the mark on his hand flashed with a dark green glare. His body reacted on its own, smoothly bending his head just enough to let the bullet pass by him, embedding itself into a neighboring wall.

The lingering smoke from the shot was still evident in the air. From the shadows, the illumination of Amir's eyes pulsed with the same eerie green force. His eyesight sharpened—his sight cutting through the darkness, through barriers, through everything. Instinctively, he examined his surroundings and immediately fixed onto his attacker.

300 meters away. Rooftop.

A sniper weapon capable of reaching this range was aimed right at him.

"Fvck, how did he dodge that?!"

The assassin, still lying prone on the rooftop, whispered in sheer disbelief as his hands trembled slightly.

[Enemy traced. Preparing for counterattack.]

Amir spoke, but it wasn't genuinely him anymore. Something—someone—was overwhelming his will. Without hesitation, his right hand clutched a neighboring streetlight post.

The minute his fingers curled around the metal, his entire arm transformed and his flesh morphing into a razor-sharp blade. With a single slice, he split through the heavy metal and shaping it into a makeshift spear.

His posture shifted; despite his massive bulk, he moved with perfect balance, as his body was no longer constrained by human limits.

"WHOOSHHHH!!!!"

With explosive force, the ground underneath him shattered as he fired the makeshift spear toward the rooftop assassin. The weapon, coated in the same green glow, rocketed forward like a missile. The sniper hardly had time to register the attack.

CRACK! CRACK!

Windows shattered. The spear tore through the building, slicing directly through the assassin's chest. The force propelled him flying into the concrete wall behind him and the the metal bar projecting cleanly from both sides of his torso. There's No explosion. No spectacle. Just a fast, cruel execution.

As Amir remained there, the weird green energy around him slowly disappeared, withdrawing into the symbol on his wrist. His body restored to normal, but his mind remained in turmoil.

He had been conscious the entire time. He knew what he was doing. And yet… it felt like he hadn't been the one in control. Something darker, something more violent had taken over—his own terrible impulses given expression.

Amir did not just stand there; he turned and quickly exited the scene before anyone noticed him.

---

By morning, the area was crowded with investigators. A crime scene had been set up around the rooftop where the incident took place. Officers examined the shattered glass, impact marks, and, most importantly, the metal bar that impaled the target.

One investigator ran his fingers along the broken window, tracing the cracks with curiosity. It appeared to be an ordinary break at first, but as he pressed on, a jagged edge unexpectedly cut his skin. His fingertip bled.

"Tch." He drew back his hand, shaking off the sting.

A group of officers had gathered near their superior. Prior to reporting, one of them gave a formal salute.

"Officer Kim, we have identified the weapon. Sir, the metal bar lodged in the target's body is actually a streetlight post. Sharpened and launched with enormous force. The victim is Lee Bum-kon, a top contract killer in the underground. We're still looking into additional leads."

Officer Kim, a man with a rugged face that made him appear more like a criminal than a cop, took a deep drag on his cigarette before slowly exhaling. His lips formed an amused smirk.

"A streetpost was turned into a fvcking javelin and thrown from 300 meters with enough force to pierce through a man." He chuckled, his voice laced with skepticism.

"How the hell are we going to sell this story to the public?" He took another drag and shook his head.

Still smiling with an expression more suited to a villain than an officer, he observed the crime scene as it unfolded before him, his intrigue growing with the mysterious force that had accomplished such an impossible feat.

—————————————————

"Meowwww"

"Meowwwww"

"Hmmmmm"

Amir's eyes snapped open, only to be met by the soft, insistent licking of a cat's tongue against his face. At first, he didn't care. His mind was too foggy to register much, but as he looked around and tried to gather his bearings, confusion set in. Slowly, he rose to his feet, his legs unsteady, before sitting back down on the cold ground.

"What the hell am I doing here?" he muttered, his voice rough.

Suddenly, a 5000-won coin was tossed in front of him. Amir blinked, unsure of what was happening.

"Hey, buy some food, not a shab—"

The voice trailed off, and Amir couldn't help but feel confused. Why was this person speaking English? He quickly realized that he wasn't even a Korean. His disappointment was immediate.

He reached into his pockets, hoping to find his phone. But when he pulled it out, it was shattered, the front screen barely hanging on by a thread.

"Sigh..." he sighed heavily. "Fuck, my head hurts."

The last thing I remembered was running—no, flying—so fast that I couldn't even feel the ground beneath me, as if I was floating on the wind.

"I killed a person."

"I killed someone."

Those were the words that kept repeating in my mind as I ran as fast as I could.

But before I could reflect on it further, a voice suddenly echoed in my mind, cutting through the haze:

[Your stamina is not enough to perform this action.]

My vision blurred, and my body began to collapse.

The last thing I heard before everything went dark was:

[One soul collected.]