The room upstairs felt different now. Not because anything had changed in it — the bed was still neatly made, the jug of water still sat on the table — but because my head was heavier with possibilities.
I closed the door behind me and leaned against it. The village noise outside was faint now, just enough to remind me there was a world out there waiting. A world I could take in my hands.
But I'd been around long enough to know there's always a price. Nobody hands you power without a hook buried somewhere inside it.
"Alright," I said under my breath. "We're doing this now. Tell me the catch."
The voice didn't hesitate.
[System abilities require stamina expenditure proportional to the potency and duration of the skill. Reckless overuse can result in severe fatigue, unconsciousness, or death.]
"Death?" I asked flatly.
[Correct.]
That was blunt.
I pushed away from the door and crossed to the table. My fingers traced the grain of the wood as I thought. "So, you're saying I could be halfway through… let's say… claiming someone, and if I push too hard, I could just drop dead?"
[Accurate. Additionally, stamina recovery is slower in hostile or unfamiliar environments, and overuse can cause lingering weakness.]
It was almost funny — a system designed to feed off indulgence, dangling rewards in front of me, but with the constant threat that too much indulgence would kill me. Like putting a starving man in front of a banquet and telling him the food might be poisoned if he eats too quickly.
I sat on the edge of the bed. "And if I just… don't use it? What happens then?"
[Without accumulating Desire Points, you will remain at your current level. In this world, stagnation is equivalent to slow death.]
So either I played the game or I got left behind. No safe middle ground.
I rubbed my temple, letting the idea sink in. This was more than just a tool for power — it was a leash. It wanted me moving, hunting, claiming. It wanted me involved.
And if I refused? Then the leash tightened until someone else in this world — stronger, faster, hungrier — decided to take what was mine.
"Alright," I muttered. "Use it too little and I'm dead. Use it too much and I'm dead. Nice and balanced."
[Moderation is optimal. Discipline is survival.]
Discipline. That was going to be the tricky part.
I kicked off my boots and lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. My mind wouldn't stop turning.
I could already see the temptation — the ease of walking into a tavern, feeling the pull of this face, this body, and leaning on it until a woman's gaze went from curious to hungry. From hungry to desperate.
And then? Then I'd be stronger. I'd be faster. I'd be closer to whatever this system could make me.
But every time I pictured it, I also pictured my body collapsing mid-act, my vision going dark, my "claimed" woman left with a corpse. That wasn't just embarrassing — it was dangerous.
The system's voice slid into my thoughts again.
[You are thinking strategically. That is good. Your starter gifts will not remove the risk, but they will make your initial growth more efficient.]
"Yeah, but they'll still burn stamina," I said aloud.
[Yes. You will need to learn your limits quickly.]
I rolled onto my side, looking toward the window. The dragon I'd seen earlier was gone, the sky clear. A gentle breeze pushed through the shutters, carrying the scent of baking bread and faint traces of smoke from the village chimneys.
This was a world of swords and monsters. The man I used to be wouldn't have lasted a week here. This body, the system — they gave me a shot. But it wasn't free.
I sat up, elbows resting on my knees. "So what you're telling me," I said to the air, "is that the only way I get stronger is by risking my life one way or another."
[Correct.]
"And you don't care if I die in the process."
[Correct. The system will persist until the user is dead. Upon user death, the system will reinitialize with a new host.]
That made me pause. "So I'm… replaceable to you."
[Every host is replaceable. However, each host is unique in their potential yield.]
I let out a slow breath. "And I take it you think I'm worth the investment."
[Yes.]
That answer did something to me. It wasn't pride, exactly, but there was a flicker of something like it. The idea that, out of however many people this system had used before me, I was one it considered high potential.
"Fine," I said. "I'll play your game. But I play it my way."
[The system does not dictate your methods — only your results.]
That was as much freedom as I was going to get.
The rest of the afternoon passed in a slow drift. I spent it moving through the village, keeping to the edges. Watching people. Cataloguing faces, voices, little tells.
The market square was busy with merchants selling vegetables, cured meats, fabrics. The women here wore simple dresses, their hair tied back or covered with scarves. Some glanced my way, eyes lingering before they turned back to their work.
Every time I caught a glance, I filed it away. Not as an opportunity — not yet — but as confirmation. Even without the system's active abilities, I was drawing attention.
And the men? Some ignored me. Others gave quick, appraising looks — the kind that said they were measuring me up as a rival. That was useful information, too.
By the time the sun dipped lower, I'd mapped out enough of the village to know where I'd go when I wanted to test this body in conversation. But not yet. Not until I had my first edge.
Back in my room, the light was softer, the air cooler. I sat on the bed and closed my eyes.
Alright, I thought. Let's do this. Starter gifts.
[Acknowledged. Upon confirmation, you will receive your initial abilities.]
Confirm.
[Very well. Starter gift allocation will begin at next system phase. This process will be explained in detail.]
I opened my eyes, a small smile pulling at my mouth. Tomorrow would be the first real step.
But tonight, I'd sleep. And in the morning, I'd see what kind of man this world had just inherited.