Whatever had happened in that alley—
whatever choice he had made—
he didn't have the mental space to process it.
He washed his hands, changed his clothes, and collapsed onto his bed, staring at the ceiling until exhaustion dragged him under.
Somewhere between fear and relief, he fell asleep believing one simple thing:
I didn't get anything for that.
Morning proved him wrong.
Elias woke to soft sunlight and the faint hum of the city outside.
For a moment, everything felt normal again—until the familiar translucent interface quietly unfolded above his vision.
He froze.
"…Oh."
New lines of text waited for him.
[LEVEL INCREASED
LEVEL: 1 → 2]
His eyes widened.
[SKILL UPGRADE
Appraisal: Level 1 → Level 2
• Basic information
• Threat disposition added:
– Hostile
– Neutral
– Friendly ]
He sat up slowly.
[INVENTORY EXPANDED
Slots: 10 → 12]
Elias stared at the interface in silence.
"So I was rewarded," he muttered.
He didn't feel triumphant.
If anything, the confirmation made his stomach twist.
The system hadn't judged his intent, or the outcome—only that he had acted.
Still, there was no undoing it.
After a long moment, Elias sighed, stood up, and went about his morning routine.
Because that's what he always did.
.
.
.
By the time he returned to his usual spot at the bakery—standing near the corner, watching the flow of customers and staff—the system reasserted itself.
Quietly.
Unceremoniously.
[NEW OBJECTIVE AVAILABLE]
Elias felt it before he saw it.
He looked.
[OBJECTIVE:
FIND YOUR FIRST SLAVE]
His breath caught.
"…No."
The word left him instinctively, almost offended.
Slave.
That wasn't a misunderstanding. It wasn't vague.
It was explicit in a way the previous objective hadn't been.
His grip tightened on the clipboard.
"I'm not doing that," he said under his breath.
The system did not react.
There was no timer.
No warning.
No pressure.
Just the objective, waiting.
Elias stared at it for several seconds before looking away.
If there's no deadline, he thought, then maybe I can just… not.
Ignore it.
Live normally.
Let the world pass him by.
.
.
.
The world didn't agree.
That week, Elias was mugged four times.
Not violently.
Not dramatically.
But enough to make a pattern impossible to ignore.
Each time, it was someone desperate.
Nervous.
Armed, but unsure.
And each time, Elias felt the system hum faintly—acknowledging opportunity.
The first time, he froze.
The second time, he raised a finger instinctively.
By the third, he knew what to do.
"Why?" he asked quietly, eyes steady.
Under Imperio, the answers spilled out.
Lost jobs.
Bad decisions.
Addiction.
Debt.
Some broke down in guilt, hands shaking as they confessed.
Those ones, Elias made surrender.
The others—those who justified it, who blamed the world without regret—he forced to change. Not into puppets, but into people who chose differently once the fog lifted.
Either way, they were listed as victims and he could curse them any time without being around them.
He didn't enjoy it.
He didn't linger.
He simply acted—and went home to bake bread the next morning like nothing had happened.
By the end of the week, the system updated again.
[LEVEL INCREASED
LEVEL: 2 → 3]
[Experience: 2 / 3 (Next Level)]
[INVENTORY EXPANDED
Slots: +2 → 14]
[SKILL UPGRADE
Appraisal: Level 2 → Level 3
• Disposition Expanded:
– Friendly
– Neutral
– Hostile
– Victim
– Enemy
– Slave ]
Elias read the words once.
Then closed the interface.
"I'm still just a baker," he told himself.
And for a while, that remained true.
.
.
.
A month passed.
Quietly.
Mercer's Hearth thrived.
One afternoon, a familiar older woman came in with a boy who couldn't have been more than ten or eleven—thin, bright-eyed, already looking like he was thinking about something else.
"Aunt May," Elias greeted warmly.
"Elias," she smiled.
"Two of those, please."
The boy's eyes lit up as Elias passed over the wrapped pastry.
"This one," the boy said earnestly, "is better than anywhere else."
Elias chuckled. "High praise."
Peter Parker beamed like he meant it.
Life felt gentle again.
Normal.
Which was why Elias didn't see it coming.
It happened one night, walking home.
Laughter—wrong, sharp, cruel.
Elias stopped.
Down the alley, three men surrounded a girl.
Young.
Too young.
Probably an early teenager.
One tore at her clothes while the others held her arms.
She tried to scream, but a hand muffled her, her body shaking as she struggled in vain.
Elias' vision narrowed.
His hands curled into fists.
Anger—not cold, not calculated—burned.
Before he realized it, he spoke.
"Imperio."
One of the men suddenly turned and punched the other square in the face.
"What the hell?!" the second shouted.
Another punch followed.
They stumbled, shouting, swinging wildly at each other.
The third froze.
Elias raised his hand again.
The man removed his jacket.
Dropped it.
Then his pants.
He stood still, eyes blank.
Luckily, he was level 3.
The victims he could use the imperius curse with has a limit of 3 at the moment.
Elias stepped forward, calm as a still lake hiding a storm.
He stopped the fight. Took control of the last thug.
Then he turned to the girl.
"Are you hurt?" he asked gently.
She looked up—and broke.
She threw herself into his arms, sobbing, clutching his shirt like it was the only solid thing left in the world.
Elias held her, murmuring soft reassurances, his anger simmering beneath the surface.
He wrapped her in the jacket, helped her into the oversized pants, tightening the belt so they wouldn't fall.
Only then did she notice the men.
"Why… why aren't they moving?" she asked shakily.
"They're under control," Elias said honestly.
"I can make them do what you want."
She hesitated.
Revenge flickered across her face at first—then faded with her indecisiveness as she began to calm in his embrace.
"I… I just want them locked up in prison for life." she whispered.
Elias nodded.
But inside, realization struck.
I made a mistake.
He scanned the alley.
No cameras.
Relief—and dread.
He had the men confess everything.
Every crime.
Every act.
He made sure the truth would stick.
Then he walked the girl home, listening quietly as she told him where she lived.
All the while, one question echoed in his mind.
Halfway through he thought hard.
What do I do about her?
Using Imperio would erase her free will.
Even his earlier victims, although the curse was lifted, he could still curse them again without even being near them.
He could kill, torture or manipulate them again.
Luckily, those who were given the chance to change truly change as the curse lifted.
While those who didn't, well they'll eventually rot in prison. Imperius curse made sure of that.
How can they escape prison if they want to be in prison? Right?
He wouldn't do that to her.
Yet she knew.
Even making her the first servant didn't even cross his mind.
As if sensing his turmoil, the system unfolded before his eyes once more.
New rewards.
New data.
Elias stared at it—and for the first time since all this began, he breathed out:
"…Holy shit."
End of chapter 3