"Stupido! You can't even take down one fat guy?"
The man's voice thundered through the room as he berated his soldiers, his face crimson with wrath.
This was Roman Gomez, Amir's uncle and a significant actor in Korea's drug trafficking. When Amir's father died, Roman had been nearly salivating at the possibility of inheriting the family riches. But there remained one huge roadblock: his nephew Amir. Their father Ramon had officially bonded the fortune to Amir's father's bloodline, making Amir the sole heir.
Now, with Amir's father dead, Roman's sole challenge was Amir himself - a young man living a lowly life, entirely unconscious to the knowledge that his uncle was hunting him down.
"I apologize, boss. We're still investigating what happened to our hired assassin. The police seem to be keeping their investigation under wraps - there hasn't been any media coverage."
"What? Are you telling me they just played us? I thought this assassin was supposed to be Korea's finest. How could he fail to eliminate some nobody?"
"Boss-" the man couldn't even complete his statement.
"BASTANTE! You're all idiots! Do whatever it takes to kill that Amir, or I'll put bullets in your heads one by one!"
"Yes boss, I'm sorry."
"Get out of my sight before I bash your heads in. Your faces are making me sick."
He glared at his bald henchmen as they fled away.
A tiny girl emerged at the doorway, wearing a Spider-Man jacket and brandishing a water cannon. She regarded her grandfather with interested eyes.
"Grandpa?" she cried out gently.
"Oh, my sweet Eula! What brings you here?" His voice suddenly softened as he picked her up.
"Why you yellin' at the baldy men, Grandpa?" she questioned innocently.
"No, no, sweetheart. Grandpa wasn't yelling. I was just... um... very excited because they surprised me," he replied, his face twitching awkwardly.
"But your face looked like you wanted to eat somebody up!" she remarked.
Roman forced a smile. "Oh no, look - I'm happy now, my precious little granddaughter."
As he played with Eula, dark thoughts swirled in his mind: "Ramon, I suffered while you were Father's favorite. Just because he named you after himself - Ramon Jr. You couldn't even survive without me. I thought your death would bring me joy, but it wasn't enough. I want to destroy every last member of your family. HAHAHAHAHA"
In her cramped studio apartment, Intang sat at her drawing table, the nighttime city lights glittering through her window. The clock on her wall read 8:00 PM - still early by architecture student standards, but her eyes already felt sleepy from a full day of courses.
Her latest architectural plate - a sustainable mixed-use structure - was laid before her, demanding attention. Scattered around it were material samples, reference books, and a fresh cup of coffee she'd just made to power her evening work session.
"Seriously?" she mumbled, erasing another mistake in her elevation design. Her phone buzzed with messages from her groupmates about their forthcoming presentation, but she ignored them for now. The photo of her and Amir from last Christmas grabbed her eye on her desk.
"What's that fat idiot doing now?" she mused aloud, smiling slightly as she remembered how he'd always show up with snacks during her plate-making sessions. "Probably already had supper while I'm stuck here with all these designs."
She adjusted her desk lamp, casting greater light on her work. The scale model of her building sat half-finished to her right, tiny bits of cardboard and balsa wood properly sorted in labeled containers - at least she was attempting to be orderly.
"Professor Lee expects this to be gallery-ready by next week," she muttered, taking up her technical pen again. "Better make it worth pulling these evening shifts..."
Meanwhile, in Amir's apartment...
Amir sighed as consciousness slowly returned, his head aching. "Ugh... my head... was all that really necessary?" He pushed his palm on his temple, attempting to soothe the pounding pain.
Something seemed strange. His body felt unusually light. As he pushed himself up, his eyes startled at the sight of his altered hands - no longer chubby but slender and muscular.
"What the..." His voice trailed off as he stumbled to the mirror. The reflection that met him was a stranger - a lovely young man with sharp features, nothing like his prior self. He blinked fast, his surprised look mirrored back at him. His shaking fingers stroked his new jawline.
"What the actual fuck is happening?"
Convinced he must be hallucinating, he raced to check another mirror in his room. But the image remained the same.
"Holy shit... how is this even possible?"
He couldn't help but enjoy his new appearance, letting out a nervous giggle. "Damn, I'm genuinely hot? This is wild!"
His self-admiration was interrupted when he observed his substantially lighter waist. Slowly removing his shirt, he found nicely defined abs where his belly used to be.
"No way... this can't be genuine..."
Before he could process this metamorphosis further, a green holographic screen emerged in front of him:
*System Status:*
- Host: Amir [Abyssal Stalker]
- Current Task: None
- Soul Integration: Complete
- System Update: Complete
- Risk Level: 0
"So this stuff is behind my transformation?" he mused, eyebrows furrowed. "Abyssal what now?"
A notification suddenly flashed up:
> First task finished
Reward: [Glutton's Pact] [see details]
> Would you wish to accept?
[Yes] • [No]
"A reward? What did I ever do to deserve this?"
Curious, he checked the details:
> Type: Cursed Artifact / Morphing Contract
> Activation Time: Morning (Dawn) Only
> Effect: User alternates between obese shape (night) and fit form (day). Transformation occurs at dawn and nightfall. shape can be maintained depending on activation timing.
"I don't know about this... last time didn't exactly end nicely..."
> Please claim your reward before time expires: [15] sec.
"Shit..."
"The last screen messed with my body enough already..."
[10] sec.
[9] sec.
[8] sec.
"Well, here goes nothing..."
[5] sec.
"Please don't let this be another mistake..."
His finger hovered above the button before ultimately touching it.
Click!
The screen pulsed with ghostly green light.
[System Alert: Contract Bound]
[Warning: Power Surge Imminent]
Amir squeezed his eyes tight, preparing himself. For a time, nothing occurred.
"Huh?"
Then it hit him - waves of green energy pouring through his body. He remained still, watching as the force surrounded him.
[Infusing - 10% complete]
[Infusing - 20% complete]
The sensation wasn't terrible - if anything, it felt... wonderful. He closed his eyes, letting the energy flow through him.
[Infusing - 100% Complete]
As the light faded, he gazed at his image again, half anticipating another metamorphosis. But his new appearance remained intact. Only now, he felt... complete, somehow. Like his body had fully settled into its new reality.
"Well," he remarked to his mirror, "I guess this is going to be interesting."
Back in her studio, Intang sneezed, accidently painting a line across her meticulously created elevation. "Damn it!" she grumbled, reaching for her eraser again. "Someone better be talking positive things about me..."
Little did she know, her cousin's life had just taken a turn that would eventually collide with her own in ways neither of them could imagine.
After Intang finished her plates, she let out a loud sigh and reached for her phone, her fingers tapping the screen absentmindedly.
Sighhhh, such an exhausting life.
She stared at the TV for a time, furious. "What the hell is that moron doing right now?"
Without spending more time, she dialed Amir's number.
Ring... ring...
Then, the automatic voice came on.
"고객님의 전화기가 꺼져있어 음성사서함으로 연결됩니다."
(The client's phone is turned off, thus you will be connected to the voicemail.)
"Huh? Again?" she muttered, her frustration mounting. She tossed the phone in her hand and let out another annoyed sigh. "Seriously, where the heck is he?" Her mind was already spinning with possible reasons—none of them good.
Walking down the street with a bag of groceries in hand, she tried to shake it off, but something was nagging her. A chill raced down her spine, the feeling that someone was watching her. She glanced over her shoulder, but saw nothing out of the norm.
Just... calm down. It's probably nothing, she tried to reassure herself. But the bad sensation didn't go away. The street was quiet, too quiet.
Her pace intensified, her grasp tightening on the bag of goods as her footsteps echoed in the empty street. "Those murderfuckers," she hissed under her breath. "Think they can scare me? Hah. They have no notion who they're dealing with."
She turned the corner, her thoughts still churning with irritation. That's when a chilly hand shot out from the shadows and tugged her into the dark alley. The world went black.