After using the mysterious card and completing all the changes, Lucas immediately opened his personal professional attribute panel.
Sure enough, his eyes widened with delight. His so-called "universal skill" had completely transformed into an exclusive skill, something unique only to him. Its power had multiplied several times over, packed with hidden damage coefficients, rare effects, and terrifying bonuses.
Lucas clenched his fists, his pulse quickening. This isn't just strong. This is more than strong. This is invincible!
A thrill surged through his veins. All he wanted now was to find a monster—something, anything—to test the overwhelming power that was screaming inside him. Just waving at the air wouldn't do. Skills like this demanded a target.
Still, he could try the two new things first: the Shura Blood Rage, his second-turn awakening talent skill, and the updated Shadow Stealth that had morphed into something new and dangerous.
"Shura Blood Fury!"
The moment he spoke the command, Lucas's body erupted with violent energy. His eyes flared crimson, and a suffocating mist of blood burst out of him like fire, wrapping him in a hellish aura. In that instant, he no longer looked human. He looked like some Shura demon that had clawed its way up from a burning underworld.
His gaze glowed with a blood-red light, wild and unrestrained, filled with a fury that would make any enemy quake in terror. Lucas could feel it—an endless tide of power flowing within him, burning, boiling, unstoppable. His blood roared through his body like liquid fire, his skin vibrating with strength, his muscles promising destruction.
He opened his arms wide, laughter bursting from his throat.
"I am the end of doomsday! I am the endless shadows! I am the horn of destruction, the bloody light of death!"
"Destroy! Hahahaha!"
The words tore from his mouth like a villain proclaiming the apocalypse. His fingers curled like claws, daring the world itself to stand before him.
But…
Ninety seconds later, Lucas's grin faltered. His roaring laughter died, replaced by a dry cough. His chest heaved, and his body suddenly felt empty.
"Damn it… my health's already down to ten percent!"
A glance at his health bar nearly made his knees buckle. The terrifying truth sank in: his glorious new state had a vicious price. Every second it drained 1% of his maximum health, and with no enemy nearby to leech vitality from, his blood had ticked away relentlessly.
By the time the skill ended, ninety percent of his health had bled away, leaving him trembling and pale.
The supposed "weakness" wasn't even real exhaustion—it was simply the sudden shock of falling back into his normal state after touching such godlike force. Still, his body screamed with discomfort. His heart raced as though his veins had been wrung dry. He had been through countless battles since his awakening, but this? This was the first time he'd ever come so close to collapsing from his own power.
Lucas grimaced, clutching his chest. "I'm… actually dizzy from blood loss. Great."
---
At the temple hall for job transferees, the polite lady at the front desk accepted the keycard Lucas returned. She smiled gently.
"Take care," she said.
She watched the young man sip from a red potion bottle and hurry out, confusion flickering in her eyes.
Strange… did he fail his profession change? she wondered. He looked handsome, sure, but his pale face and unsteady steps made it easy to assume he had been rejected.
A faint sigh escaped her lips. "What a pity… I wanted to ask for his contact information. He looked so down… better not disturb him."
If only she knew—the pale skin wasn't rejection. It was self-inflicted anemia caused by pushing the Shura Blood Rage to its limit. Lucas had actually succeeded perfectly at his second transformation.
---
"Finally… alive again!"
Outside, Lucas wiped the sweat from his brow and tossed aside three empty potion bottles. With each gulp, his health bar had climbed, finally returning to full. His color returned, his body stopped trembling, and he stretched his shoulders with relief.
It felt strange. Ever since obtaining the Ogre Pendant, with its blood-sucking effect, he had never needed to drink a potion. Monsters' blood had always been enough to keep him topped up. This was the first time in ages he'd actually experienced being near death, and he didn't like it one bit.
Luckily, the system prevented real injuries. No matter how low his health bar dropped, there would never be dismemberment, permanent scars, or disfigurement. It was all numbers. Still, the psychological effect of almost dying was more than enough to rattle anyone.
Shaking it off, Lucas swung a leg over his heavy motorcycle and grinned. "Alright then… time for the Level 40 dungeon."
The thought sent a thrill through him. He hadn't yet tested his exclusive skills properly. The perfect chance awaited.
With a twist of the throttle, the motorcycle's engine growled, then roared. The machine shot forward like a bullet, carrying him out of the city.
---
The Level 40 dungeon lay southwest of Kyoto, about sixty miles away. For Lucas's beloved bike, the distance was laughable. In no time at all, the dungeon entrance loomed into view.
What he saw there stunned him.
He had assumed higher-level dungeons would mean fewer players. But here? The place was packed. Not only packed—bursting. The crowd was twice as thick as anything he had seen at Level 20 or 30.
Why? Because most of the world's job transferees were stuck here.
Those with low talents—D, E, even F rank—struggled endlessly. Their leveling was slow, their second transfer brutal, and even if they scraped through by luck, the third was nearly impossible. Level 40 became their cage.
Those who had passed the second transfer also gathered here. Their levels weren't high enough for Level 50 dungeons, so they had no choice but to grind this place for experience and drops.
Even the elites—Level 50 and above—came back here often. They cleared the dungeon just to farm money, gathering resources to strengthen themselves for the terrifying third transfer.
The result? The Level 40 dungeon had become the busiest hub of all.
Before Lucas stretched a sea of players: stalls with glittering weapons, potion vendors hawking their wares, team recruiters shouting for tanks or healers. The air buzzed with conversation, bargaining, and the clash of armor.
It was livelier than the main city's commercial district.
And then—
The roar of Lucas's motorcycle tore through the noise. He rolled into view like a storm, his black machine shining under the sun, his figure tall and steady in the saddle. Heads turned. Eyes widened.
"Damn… who's that?"
"Look at that bike! Must've cost a fortune."
"Some rich kid showing off? Or a secret powerhouse?"
Dozens of eyes followed him, whispers rippling through the crowd. Lucas smirked faintly, enjoying the reaction. For once, he didn't mind the stares. He wasn't here to hide. He was here to test his power.
And deep inside, one thought blazed brighter than ever:
Who dares claim to be invincible… when I stand here?
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