Need to get stronger.

Chapter 17

Ronan's heart pounded hard against his ribs, but his face remained unreadable. He turned toward the boss, who stood frozen, his expression shifting from shock to pure dread. He held that expression not because he was afraid of Ronan —his fear ran deeper than that.

His superior had seen him reveal everything to Ronan.

And that meant he was a dead man.

Ronan narrowed his eyes, his voice devoid of any emotion. "Thanks for telling me everything I needed to know. I'll spare you this time, but don't expect me to do it again. And don't you dare go near my son for any reason."

The boss opened his mouth, maybe to plead, maybe to warn him of something. But Ronan didn't care. In a blur of movement, he struck the man's vital point. The boss collapsed instantly, unconscious before he even hit the ground.

Ronan exhaled slowly, flexing his fingers as he turned away. His boots crunched against shattered debris and broken metal as he strode toward the exit. His mind was consumed by a single thought.

Noah.

He had to confirm his son was okay.

The second he stepped outside, he pulled out his phone and dialed Dean's number. The line rang.

Once.

Twice.

No answer.

Ronan's jaw tightened. He dialed again.

Still no response.

His steps quickened. The remaining guards watched him, but none of them dared to move. They had already seen what he was capable of. Seen how he single-handedly tore through their men like it was nothing.

On the third ring, the call finally connected.

"Where's Noah?" Ronan spoke quickly, his voice was sharp and urgent.

"Noah? He's at home. Why?" Dean asked, his tone sounded confused.

"Are you sure he's safe?"

A pause.

Dean hesitated, and in that brief silence, Ronan's unease deepened.

"Of course he is," Dean said, but there was doubt in his tone now. "What could possibly happen?"

Even as he said it, he was already moving, grabbing his coat to head to Ronan's houseto check on Noah. Their houses were close—checking wouldn't take long.

"Are you with him?" Ronan asked, his grip tightening on the phone. His surroundings blurred as he took hurried steps down the road. The street was empty. No taxis in sight.

"Look, Ronan, I'll check on him and send you a photo so you can relax. Give me a moment," Dean said before ending the call.

Ronan cursed under his breath. He wished—no, he needed—a way to get home faster. If only his system had a teleportation ability—

As if the system responded to his thoughts, a notification flickered in the air

System Notification:

[Skill Extraction Upgrade: High-Level Skill Extraction allowed.]

[Number of Skills Extracted: 1 skill.]

[ Gravitational Suppression.]

Ronan's eyes narrowed.

He had forgotten about that feature.

Skill extraction.

It was a terrifyingly powerful ability—the power to take any skill he wanted from anyone he defeated.

His thoughts were interrupted by a notification on his phone. He quickly checked the screen.

A photo.

Dean had sent him a picture of himself standing beside Noah. The boy looked completely fine.

Ronan exhaled deeply, tension easing from his shoulders. Noah was safe.

His footsteps slowed. He now just needed to find a taxi and get home. But before that…

He needed to understand everything about this damn system.

He could activate it at will now, but from his stats, he was still extremely weak. The man who had ended his life, if they were to meet again, he was sure he wouldn't be able to win the fight...so he needed to get stronger if he wanted to go against these people...he needed to get stronger if he wanted to protect those he cared about.

And he was ready to do that by any means possible, even if it meant turning into a monster in the process, he didn't give a damn.

As soon as he thought of getting stronger, his system notification flickered...

[Level Up Quest Unlocked]

[Complete Missions to Increase Strength]

Ronan's pulse spiked.

Missions?

The words pulsed on the screen like a heartbeat, as if the system itself was alive.

Before he could react, his vision blurred. The air around him twisted violently, like space itself was warping.

What the hell—?!

In an instant, the world around him shattered.

The cold night, the ruined streets, the distant city lights—gone.

Ronan found himself standing in a place that shouldn't exist.

A vast, crimson-hued wasteland stretched endlessly before him, littered with jagged rocks and swirling black mist. The sky above was a swirling abyss, red cracks spreading through the darkness like veins. A suffocating, metallic scent filled his nostrils.

It smelled like blood.

Then, the system notification flared in front of him.

[Welcome to the Level-Up Domain.]

[Survive. Kill, and Evolve]

A deep growl rumbled behind him.

Ronan whirled around—just in time to see a hulking, disfigured beast lunging at him.

It was massive, its body stitched together like a grotesque experiment gone wrong. A mix of human and animal limbs jutted out at unnatural angles, and its face—a hollow void with jagged teeth—split open as it screeched.

Instinct took over.

Ronan barely managed to duck as a clawed hand swiped at his head, missing by inches. He rolled across the cracked ground, his mind racing.

Where the hell was he?!

No explanation. No warning. His system had dragged him into this nightmare and dropped monsters on him like it was some kind of sick game.

The beast turned, its soulless void of a face locking onto him.

Then it charged.

Ronan gritted his teeth. He didn't have a choice.

Either he fought—or he died.

As the creature pounced, Ronan dodged left, spun, and drove his elbow into its ribs. It howled, but barely staggered. His attacks were too weak.

I need a weapon.

As if answering his thoughts, another notification flashed:

[Weapon Extraction: Active.]

[Extracting silver fang dagger.]

Suddenly, a silver blade materialized in his grip.

The weight was unfamiliar but solid, thrumming with an eerie energy. The moment his fingers tightened around the handle, his instincts sharpened.

The beast lunged again.

Ronan didn't retreat.

He moved.

A single step forward—then a slash.

The blade cut through flesh like paper.

The creature shrieked, its massive form collapsing in a heap as dark blood sprayed across the ground. It convulsed, spasming violently—then disintegrated into black mist.

+1 Level.

Ronan stood still, his breath heavy, his heart pounding.

His mind screamed for answers, but right now, only one thing was clear.

This place—this hellish battlefield—was real. And if he wanted to escape, he had to fight for his life, or he was dead meat.