Chapter 11: Blood Money

Lukas sighed as he dragged his latest pile of junk through the filth of Zaun, his arms burning, his patience wearing thin.

Three Days had passed.

His wallet was getting lighter.

His stomach was getting emptier.

And worst of all?

He still didn't have a new cart.

"When I find the motherfuckers who stole my shit, they are so fucking dead."

For now, though?

He was stuck doing this the hard way.

Still, even with his sore arms and aching back, he couldn't deny—

This shit wasn't sustainable.

He needed more money.

Not just enough to scrape by.

Not just enough to eat.

But real money.

Because if he wanted to make something of himself in Zaun—if he wanted to build something greater—he needed resources.

Power. Influence. A name.

And that?

That took money.

"Alright, brain. Time to cook."

Lukas sat down in an alley, opened the System, and started scrolling through the store.

Weapons. Plasmids. Upgrades.

And then—

He saw it.

A tab labeled "Consumables."

"Huh."

Curious, he tapped it.

And immediately, he felt his soul leave his body.

---

[CONSUMABLES]

Cake with Cream Filling – 1000 Points

Coffee – 300 Points

Vodka – 80 Points

Cigarettes – 50 Points

---

For a solid five seconds, Lukas just stared.

Then, very slowly—

"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!"

A random passerby flinched and walked very quickly in the opposite direction.

Lukas ignored them.

Because what the fuck.

There was a literal cake in the system.

Cake.

Cake.

Meanwhile, he had been eating sewer meat.

For days.

And worst of all?

A single slice of that cake costs 1000 points.

That was more expensive than a gun.

"WHAT'S IN THAT CAKE?! THE SOUL OF A GODDAMN ANGEL?!"

Lukas rubbed his face, taking a deep, shaky breath.

"Okay. Okay. Focus."

Then he noticed something.

The vodka and cigarettes?

Much cheaper.

And that's when his brain clicked.

Wait.

Wait.

"…I could sell these."

---

Lukas almost bought the items right then and there.

But something made him pause.

His fingers hovered over the purchase button as a thought crept in.

"How many points do I have left?"

He pulled up his balance.

[Current Points: 350]

And then—

He remembered.

---

When he first got the system, he had 1250 points.

Why?

Because he had killed three people.

---

500 points per kill.

The last one—the guy who ran—only gave him 250.

Which meant…

The system rewarded him based on how much of a "threat" someone was.

The first two?

Died fighting. Full points.

The last one? Tried to escape.

Half points.

Lukas's blood ran cold.

Because now?

Now he understood.

---

The system didn't just give him points.

It didn't just exist to make him stronger.

It was rewarding him.

For killing.

It wanted him to kill.

It was incentivizing murder.

Lukas swallowed.

His hand shook.

For the first time since waking up in Zaun, he felt genuinely sick.

Because when he looked at those points…

He didn't see a number.

He saw three corpses.

And now?

He was about to turn that blood into profit.

He was about to sell alcohol and cigarettes using a currency made of death.

…And he wasn't even sure if he cared.

---

Lukas leaned back, staring at the filthy ceiling of the Undercity.

His mind wandered back to his old world.

To his old life.

To gaming.

To the choices he had made in those games.

Bioshock. Dishonored. Fallout.

Games where your decisions shaped the world.

Where morality was just a mechanic.

Where you could choose to be a hero or a monster.

And here?

Here, in Zaun?

There were no heroes.

Only men.

And as he sat there, wrestling with the weight of it all, he realized something.

This wasn't a game.

But he was still playing.

Because at the end of the day—

"We are the sum of our choices."

And well,

I Choose Rapture.

---

Lukas let out a breath.

His doubt faded.

His hesitation disappeared.

He knew what he had to do.

He tapped the purchase button.

---

[PURCHASE CONFIRMED.]

---

Suddenly, two packs of cigarettes and three bottles of vodka materialized in front of him, dropping onto his lap.

Lukas barely managed to catch them all, eyes darting around to make sure no one saw.

Good.

Now he just needed a place to sell them.

And there was only one place in Zaun where he could start a side hustle like this without immediately getting robbed.

The Last Drop.

The heart of the Undercity.

The place where connections were made.

The place where money moved.

Lukas smirked, stuffing the goods into his bag.

"Alright, old man. Let's see what your bar is really worth."