015. New skill
[Stored damage available. Would you like to convert it into gradual healing?]
↳ ⟪Confirm⟫ / ⟪Reject⟫
"I guess there's only one way to find out."
He glanced around cautiously, making sure no one was paying attention before he finally tapped on the confirm icon. For a moment, nothing happened—then, gradually, a subtle warmth began to spread through his limbs.
His body started radiating heat, and thin wisps of steam curled off his skin as if something deep within him had been set alight.
He watched, wide-eyed, as the bruises that had mottled his arms and torso began to shrink and fade.
The swelling receded, the cuts sealed shut, and in the span of seconds, his injuries were vanishing before his eyes.
This wasn't just healing—it was something else entirely. He had seen healing abilities before, even received them a few times from trained medics, but nothing like this.
He didn't even have the healing attribute, and yet his body was recovering at a rate that made traditional healing look sluggish in comparison. It felt... unnaturally powerful.
"I can't believe it..." he murmured slowly, then his memory drifted back to when black steam escaped his back.
He carefully retied the bandages over his now-healed bruises, making sure they looked just as they had before.
The last thing he needed was someone—especially the nurse—raising questions about how his injuries had vanished so quickly. Better to play it safe.
He tugged his sleeve down, covering the edges, and gave one last glance at his reflection in the glass window to make sure nothing looked out of place.
Then he set off toward his dormitory, his steps steady but unhurried. The day was already winding down, the last rays of sunlight slanting low across the campus grounds, so there was no real reason to return to class.
And as much as he wanted to stay, hovering by her bedside in the faint hope she might stir, there was little point in lingering at the hospital when she remained unconscious.
"Better get some rest. Today has been anything but nice," he murmured as he made his way out of the clinic.
On his way back, he was nothing but focused. His eyes stayed fixed on the translucent system screen hovering before him, flickering faintly with each step he took.
He still couldn't believe what he was seeing—it all felt unreal, like he'd stumbled into something far beyond what anyone else had access to.
The new skills the system had granted him weren't just flashy—they were practical, efficient, and sharp.
Each one felt tailored for combat, the kind that didn't require reckless power or wild outbursts of energy. These were precise tools, and in the right hands, deadly.
He grinned to himself, eyes still fixed on the interface. But the expression didn't quite reach his eyes—because he knew the truth. In his current state, these skills were nothing but potential, not power.
In his hands, they were weak, unrefined. And that meant he had no choice but to start training earlier than he had planned—if he truly wanted to surpass who he was now.
There was no time to waste. If he wanted these abilities to mean something, to make a difference when it counted, then he had to put in the work—starting now, no shortcuts, no delays. It was time to take these tools and forge them into something lethal.
"If I want to keep changing fate… if I want to start turning the tides in my favor," he muttered under his breath, eyes narrowing as the system screen shimmered in front of him,
"then I have to train—harder, faster. I have to surpass everyone around me… and everyone yet to come."
He finally reached his dormitory, the faint hum of electricity in the walls accompanying the soft glow of neon as their room number flickered above the door—brighter than it needed to be, almost irritating in its insistence.
He turned the knob slowly and eased the door open with practiced quiet, peeking inside to check if Joe was around.
The last thing he wanted right now was to deal with his roommate's boundless energy and restless chatter. He didn't have it in him—not tonight.
All he wanted was silence, a soft bed, and the kind of rest that didn't come easy after everything that had happened.
"Seems clear..." he murmured as he stepped in through the doors.
He went straight for his end of the bed and pounced onto it without hesitation, the plush, welcoming softness cradling his body and easing the stress and lingering agony that clung to him.
The moment his weight sank into the mattress, a breath escaped his lips—half relief, half exhaustion.
Even though the bruises had visibly closed up thanks to the soulfade skill, he quickly realized that the deep fatigue from earlier was creeping back.
It confirmed something he had suspected—the skill didn't just heal. It permanently sealed wounds, yes, but the pain and exhaustion it wiped away were only temporary illusions.
From his observation, it took about forty-five minutes for the pain to start resurfacing—which, in his case, was a generous amount of time. More than enough to push through a fight, make an escape, or finish what needed to be done.
With this skill, he could endure damage mid-combat and still keep going, free from the immediate burden of pain or weakness. Only once things settled would the cost catch up to him.
That kind of trait—the ability to ignore suffering until the battle was over—was rare and dangerously useful.
"The ability to ignore pain and stress... sounds about one of the best abilities a person could have, regardless of what he used it for."
He rolled to the other side of the bed, staring at the orange-colored wall as his thoughts churned inside his head continuously.
"I absorbed a flame vortex and used its damage to heal myself, and now I have skills that can be deadly in combat. If it's not luck, I don't know what else to call this."
His mind drifted through the scape, turning over everything that had happened throughout the day when the sound of the bathroom doors swinging open cut through his thoughts.
He rolled onto his side and cast a glance toward the doorway—only to see someone he had absolutely no desire to run into stepping out.