Predator

"Huff... huff..." A black-haired boy sat collapsed on the courtyard ground, his entire body soaked in sweat. His training clothes clung to his skin like he'd been pulled from a river. Blood from his bandaged head had mixed with the sweat, creating dark stains on his shirt.

"Mira..." Lux wheezed, his voice barely above a whisper. "Go prepare a bath for me."

He sounded like he'd run for hours without stopping. Every muscle in his body screamed in pain, and his broken wrist throbbed with each heartbeat. He'd pushed himself far beyond what his cursed body could handle.

"Should I call a servant to help you walk?" Mira asked, looking down at him with something new in her eyes. It wasn't hatred anymore, but something closer to respect. She'd never seen him push himself this hard before.

"No... just the bath," Lux managed to say through gritted teeth. Speaking took effort he didn't have.

Mira nodded and gave a small bow before hurrying back toward the mansion. Lux remained on the ground, trying to catch his breath and gather enough strength to move.

This isn't a dream. This is real. The thought hit him like a cold wave. I'm actually trapped in this game world.

He'd kept hoping this was just some weird, detailed nightmare brought on by too much work and too little sleep. But the pain was too real, the exhaustion too complete. This was his life now.

Two more days of this torture, he thought, staring up at the cloudy sky. Two more days without healing, pushing this broken body to its limits.

The curse-breaking quest was repeatable - if he gave up and healed himself now, he could try again later. It would be the smart thing to do. The safe thing.

But Lux had spent two years being safe, letting his boss control his life like a puppet. He was tired of being weak.

No. The sooner I break this curse, the better.

He forced himself to his feet, swaying slightly as black spots danced in his vision. His legs felt like jelly, but he managed to stay upright. Step by painful step, he made his way back to the mansion.

Inside the grand entrance hall, several maids were polishing the marble floors and dusting expensive vases. When they saw Lux stumble through the door - bloody, sweaty, and barely able to walk - they gasped and covered their mouths in shock.

Lux shot them a cold glare, and they immediately looked away, pretending to be busy with their work. He didn't have the energy to deal with gossip right now.

He'd made it halfway to the staircase when a familiar voice called out behind him.

"Hello, brother."

Lux turned to see the curly-haired boy from the hallway approaching with a smile that made his skin crawl. There was something predatory in that grin, like a cat that had cornered a mouse.

The system window appeared automatically:

[Name: Hel d'Branmere | Age: 15]

[Job: Swordsman (Intermediate Rank)]

[Traits: Bully, Psychotic Mindset, Serial Killer (Locked), Dominator, Evil Heart, Demon in Human Skin]

[Relationship: Half-brother (Direct Blood)]

[Relationship Meter: -65 (Deep Hatred)]

Lux's blood ran cold. A serial killer. His own half-brother was a serial killer, and from the "locked" status, it seemed like he hadn't started killing yet. But those traits - psychotic, evil heart, demon in human skin - painted a clear picture.

And right now, Lux was injured, exhausted, and completely defenseless.

"Hey, Hel," Lux replied in a casual tone, forcing a tired smile onto his face. He couldn't show weakness. If Hel sensed fear, it would only make him more aggressive.

Hel's grin faltered slightly at Lux's relaxed response. He'd been expecting cowering, maybe begging. Instead, his bastard brother was acting like they were just having a friendly chat.

"You..." Hel's face twisted with rage. "You bastard!"

His hand moved behind his back, gripping something hidden there. A knife, Lux realized with growing panic. Hel was actually planning to stab him right here in the entrance hall.

But before Hel could draw his weapon, one of the side doors opened with a soft creak.

"Ah, Sir Maskl!" Hel immediately straightened up, bowing deeply with a nervous expression. The casual psychopath was gone, replaced by a polite young nobleman.

An elderly man in an immaculate butler's uniform stepped into the hall. His hair was silver-white, perfectly combed, and his posture spoke of decades serving the nobility. But his eyes - sharp and intelligent - missed nothing.

This was Sir Maskl, head butler of the d'Branmere household and right hand to the patriarch himself. He wielded more real power than most nobles, and everyone in the family treated him with the respect due to royalty.

Lux also bowed as deeply as his injured body would allow. In the game's storyline, Maskl had been instrumental in the family's eventual downfall. He played a dangerous game of politics behind the scenes, and crossing him was suicide.

"Ah, young masters, please raise your heads," Maskl said with a gentle smile. But Lux caught the way his eyes flicked to Hel's hidden hand, noting the concealed weapon with professional calm.

"I'll take my leave," Lux said quickly, giving another bow. This was his chance to escape before Hel could finish what he'd started.

Hel's jaw clenched as he watched his prey walk away, but he couldn't make a move with Maskl watching. Patience, he told himself. A mouse can delay its death, but it can't avoid it forever.

Meanwhile, Maskl watched Lux climb the stairs with an unreadable expression. Behind those butler's manners, his mind was working.

Smart boy, he thought. He recognized the danger and took the first opportunity to escape. I wonder why the patriarch asked me to keep an eye on him specifically.

He turned his attention back to Hel, whose hand was still gripping the hidden knife. This one is the real threat. If I hadn't interrupted, young Lux would be bleeding out on the floor right now.

"Young Master Hel," Maskl said pleasantly, "perhaps you'd like to join me for tea? I believe your father has some tasks he'd like you to handle."

It wasn't really a request, and they both knew it. Hel forced a smile and nodded, following the butler down the hall while silently planning his next opportunity.

Back in his room, Lux found Mira waiting by the door, hands folded neatly in front of her maid's uniform.

"I've prepared your bath," she said. "Should I help you remove your clothes as usual?"

Lux paused, processing this information. Had the original Lux really been so weak that he needed a fourteen-year-old girl to undress him? Or had he been some kind of pervert who took advantage of the servants?

Either way, the thought made Lux's stomach turn.

"You're off duty for today," he told her, heading toward the bathroom. "Go get some rest."

Mira blinked in surprise. "Off duty? But it's barely evening..."

She'd expected him to demand her help with everything - bathing, changing clothes, maybe even feeding him dinner. The original Lux had been completely helpless after any kind of physical exertion.

But this version of him was different. Stronger, somehow. More... human.

"I guess this version of him isn't completely hateable," she murmured to herself as she left the room.

Inside the bathroom, Lux finally allowed himself to collapse against the wall. His reflection in the mirror showed a boy who looked like he'd been through a war - bloody bandages, clothes soaked with sweat and dirt, purple eyes dulled with exhaustion.

But for the first time since waking up in this world, he felt like he'd accomplished something real. He'd survived day one of the curse-breaking quest, faced down a psychotic brother, and earned a small measure of respect from his would-be assassin maid.

Only two more days to go.

He slipped into the hot bath water and let out a long sigh. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, new pain, and probably new attempts on his life.

But tonight, he would rest and plan his next move. Because being weak in this world wasn't just uncomfortable - it was deadly.