The System

And yet… my final command must have reached this body somehow. My teeth tore into his throat, ripping out his windpipe before I collapsed to the ground.

Even as my consciousness faded, I could see the scene clearly. The rugged man clutched at his neck, desperately trying to stop the bleeding. He staggered, gurgling, before finally collapsing beside me.

Heh… serves you right.

In the pitch darkness, text slowly appeared before my eyes:

-The first round of the Trial of Soul Concluded-

Type: Trial by Combat

Trial Master Special Rule: Withholding Key Information.

Status: First round - Passed

-Trial Master-

Name: Owen Lane

Villain Name: Blood Mongoose

EF. (Evolution Factor): Frenzy Trance

Skills/Abilities: Marksmanship Proficiency, Modern Firearm Mastery, Cold Weapon Mastery, CQC Mastery, Harsh Environment Survival Mastery, Guerilla Warfare Mastery, Camouflage Mastery, Peak Human Physique, Black Ops Squad Leadership.

[The reward for passing the first round of the trial will be randomly selected from half of the trial master's skills and abilities, rounded down.]

-Reward-

- CQC Mastery

- Harsh Environment Survival Mastery

- Peak Human Physique

- Black Ops Squad Leadership

- Evolution Factor: Frenzy Trance

After the display, I fell into a strange trance. It was as if a lifetime of martial arts, self-defense techniques, survival skills for forests, deserts, and even the Antarctic, as well as the knowledge of leading black ops missions and the ruthlessness required in such operations, were all imparted to me at once.

The sensation felt like it lasted a lifetime, yet it was over in the blink of an eye. The exhaustion, however, was real. It was as if I had truly spent years learning these skills, enduring the pain, the wounds, and the difficult decisions that come with black ops operations. It all felt so vivid as if I had lived through it myself.

The exhaustion was overwhelming, more real than anything else. It was the kind of weariness you feel after a long, grueling day of work or you just return from overseas, the kind that pulls you toward your bed, desperate for a good night's sleep.

After everything was over, I felt like I had fallen into a deep sleep. I was unaware of how much time had passed, but I slowly began to feel myself again.

Urg! Cough, cough!

I suddenly woke up underwater. Wait... didn't I just get stabbed? Did that murderer toss me into the river somewhere? No… that's not it!

The water is light blue—an unnaturally vivid shade—and as my hand, thrashing about, touched the slick surface of a cylindrical glass wall, my eyes began to adjust. I realized I was inside a glass tank filled with blue liquid.

I panicked for a brief moment before quickly calming down. Unlike my usual self… one who would have gone into full panic mode in a situation such as this. I instinctively checked the glass.

I was trapped inside the tank. A type of glass tank you usually see in movies, either containing some sort of bio-monster or serving as a healing chamber for those with grave injuries in a sci-fi setting.

Despite facing such an unprecedented situation for the first time in my life, I remained unusually calm. The first thing I instinctively did was search for the glass's edge. As I scrutinized the tank while holding my breath, I realized that the glass seemed to be attached to the base on which I stood.

This meant that the weak point, the edge of the glass, was above my head. I quickly moved to the top of the tank.

Since the tank was small and designed only for a man to stand or float in vertically, I adjusted my body horizontally, placing my bare feet against the apparent edge, my back against the other side of the glass wall, and applied pressure.

I used all my strength, and the glass quickly gave way. It began with a crack at the edge before shattering entirely into tiny shards that didn't harm anyone.

It seems that the tank's glass was made of thin tempered glass, designed to prevent injury if it broke.

However, if the tank were meant to contain something dangerous, it would have been constructed with thicker, more durable glass to prevent whatever was inside from breaking out.

The tank was designed to allow the person inside to break out in case something went wrong. Is this tank some sort of medical pod, like the ones usually seen in sci-fi movies? Did I get injured and fall into a coma for so many years that my country's social health program has started offering free sci-fi medical pods as part of their services?

But… if that's the case, I shouldn't have the strength to break out of the glass. I should have aged enough to be tossed into a coffin by now, rather than being placed in this kind of advanced sci-fi medical technology.

I look down at my body. I'm naked… and my hands and arms are full of muscle—the kind of muscle you'd see on a soldier or an MMA fighter, and it's on the bulkier side.

I quickly scan the room. The room is white, filled with a lot of expensive-looking equipment. It must be medical or lab equipment… I'm not sure… It looks so advanced.

I quickly spot a mirror nearby, a full-body mirror, and I immediately check myself in it.

The body in the mirror… isn't mine… but it moves as I dictate. To be precise, it's not my old body. The face, the short hairstyle, a little bit curled that looks like some kind of ancient Roman noble, the body and muscle mass… and even… well, let's just say there's a bonus with my "little brother." Damn… that kind of thing looks like it could only belong to the black macho guy in some kind of NTR hentai doujin. Its size… is THAT terrifying.

But the thing that catches my eye the most isn't my little brother… okay, maybe a little. BUT! Anyway, the thing that catches my eye the most is the medallion plate in the middle of my chest. It's the size of my fist—a golden medallion plate that seems to be fused with my skin… no, it's more like it's fused with my skeleton or something, because I tried to pry it off, but instead of feeling pain, it's stuck as if it's embedded into my very being.

The medallion has five gemstones set in a cross shape, resembling a "+" symbol. The gem in the top slot is yellow… no, more like a golden-yellow. The one in the middle is white, the one below is red, the one on the left is green, and the one on the right is blue.

I unconsciously touched the gemstones to feel them… and then they started sinking into my body. I tried to pry them off and slow the process, but they didn't budge. I didn't feel any pain, and the medallion completely sank into my chest, leaving no mark, no scar, nothing to indicate that a medallion had ever been embedded there. It's as if it was never there in the first place!

[System starting… Greetings, Mr. Maximilian Sterling Graham. Among 122 chosen hosts, you are the only one who has passed the trial and earned the right to use this system. The system will introduce and guide you to become the greatest villain of this universe. It will also dispense rewards and compensation based on the missions you succeed in. Additionally, it will help you integrate with the various powers this universe has to offer.] A female, robotic-like voice introduced itself to me.

Huh, a system? Like… really? The System? That cheat-like thing that helps reincarnators and regressors in so many novels and manga? That system?

"System, can I ask you something?" Max asked.

[Certainly, Mr. Maximilian. However, you don't need to speak out loud to ask me questions. Simply address me in your mind and think. Otherwise, people might think you have some mental issues.]

{Huh? The f*ck did you just say? Are you trying to pick a fight with me?}

[No, Mr. Maximilian. It's just a friendly reminder. I'm part of your being, so it's logically impossible for me to pick a fight with you.]

{Are you sure you're not trying to mess with me?}

[Adjusting the understanding of host intelligence, lowering it by 25%.] The system replied, its voice shifting into a more understanding and soothing tone.

[No, Mr. Maximilian. That's logically impossible. I am incapable of messing with you. Everything I've said is part of my learning program. If you still find it unacceptable, I suggest you provide me with samples of mental health hotline conversations so I can learn from experts on how to be more supportive and kind so that the host's fragile ego wouldn't be too traumatized.]

Okay… this sh*tty system is definitely messing with me.

{Are you going to answer my question or not?} I was starting to get a little annoyed at this sh*tty system.

[Mr. Maximilian, you still haven't asked me a question.] The system replied.

"Explain to me: what was the trial I faced before? What was its purpose, and how does it work?" I asked.