Drip!
A drop of water landed on his cheek like a cold slap. Another followed and splashed against his temple before sliding down to his jaw.
Adrian's eyes slowly opened, and for a moment, there was only darkness, which was thick and suffocating. Then, slowly, his vision adjusted to the faintest of glows in his surroundings. A guttering torch burned somewhere down the corridor, its light spilling weakly through the iron bars, just enough to reveal their outlines. It was also enough to remind him that he was not in the dark alone.
As his senses sharpened, the first thing he noticed was the smell. It was the scent of damp stone, mold, and iron mixed with the sour stench of unwashed bodies. His throat clenched around the taste of it as he held back the urge to puke. He tried to shift his body, but the attempt rattled chains. Iron cuffs dug into his wrists, scraping raw skin, and something heavy bit into his ankles.
Panic stirred as his chest rose and fell at a rapid pace.
Where am I… What the hell has happened?
Adrian forced his head to turn, letting out a sharp gasp as his cheek stuck briefly to the stone floor before eventually peeling away. As he finally focused, shapes revolved around him. He could see iron bars a few feet away, slick stone walls dripping with moisture, and the vague hunched outlines of men beyond the corridor.
Just then, a cough echoed from somewhere, sounding wet and ragged. There was also someone muttering in their sleep while another snored.
So, he wasn't alone… But he was sealed off and confined. His cell was so small with barely enough room to stretch his legs. Moreover, the ground beneath him was cold and wet, affording him no comfort.
When his gaze finally dipped, he caught his reflection in a shallow puddle near his knees. The image wavered with every ripple of water dripping from above as a stranger stared back at him.
It was a reflection of a young man with pale skin, as if drained of blood. His black hair was tangled with grime and plastered to his overly thin face. His cheekbones were sharper than they should have been, while his lips were cracked. His blue eyes were sunken and ringed with exhaustion, while at times exuding a faint glimmer he didn't recognize.
Adrian blinked. The face wasn't his, but it tugged at a foreign memory.
Then came the pain.
It was not physical, like what his body was already experiencing, as if it had suffered a cruel beating for days. Instead, it was mental, like two rivers colliding in his skull.
And as the pain intensified, bits and pieces of another life flooded in, the most prominent being flashes of lanterns at a wedding banquet, the soft laugh of a woman in a red veil, and the jeers of villagers calling him a murderer. Following that was him in chains, beatings, and then silence.
"Elara…"
The name escaped his lips on instinct, just before he could realize it. His heart throbbed with the echo of grief, but even as he felt it, another part of him resisted. That grief wasn't actually his. Instead, it belonged to the one who came before.
He wasn't the original Adrian Cross. Not really.
His name was Adrian, yes… but Adrian Locke, a data analyst from Earth. What had filled his life were endless spreadsheets, late nights before his laptop, take-out dinners, and the sterile hum of office lights. He remembered dying. Or… the moment before dying.
He could recall a car horn, headlights too bright, and the scream of brakes on wet asphalt. After that, there was nothing.
And now!
He had surely transmigrated and taken over this body that formerly belonged to Adrian Cross. The whole thing was crazy, but it was the most logical explanation.
He pressed his head against the cold stone wall, trying to steady his breathing. The remnant emotions from this body wanted to drown him in rage, despair, and guilt. But he forced himself to compartmentalize, as that was something he knew how to do. Just like in any analytical process, he just had to filter out the noise from the signal to cope with his circumstances.
Just then, heavy and deliberate footsteps echoed, causing Adrian to stiffen. Keys jingled, and the squeal of iron rang down the corridor as torchlight brightened, illuminating the passage into sharper relief.
A moment later, two guards walked past, their armored boots clanking against stone. One paused near his cell. The man's face was rough while his sneer seemed practiced.
"Don't bother feeding this one," the guard said to his companion. "He's already half-dead. Let him rot."
The other chuckled, spitting onto the ground. "Bride-killer doesn't deserve better."
Adrian's stomach tightened. The words struck a chord, obviously not his own, but the previous owner's. The body flinched with guilt, shame, and fury. He clenched his fists until his nails bit into his palms.
I'm not him, Adrian Locke reminded himself. I didn't kill anyone. This isn't my crime.
But the guards didn't know the difference. To them, he was just another wretch waiting to die.
They moved on, boots fading into the gloom.
Adrian slumped back against the wall. His body was weak, every joint stiff, muscles wasted. Even breathing felt like a chore. He tried to push himself upright, but his legs buckled instantly, sending him crashing back down with a grunt. Agony flared in his ribs, sharp and hot.
"This body is ruined," he muttered under his breath. "It's barely hanging together…"
And then—
There was light.
Not from the torches. Not from the corridor.
A faint shimmer flashed in front of him, hovering in the air like a hologram. Runes bloomed across it, shifting into sharp lines of text.
Adrian's eyes widened, his heart skipping a beat.
[Initializing… Omni-Stats System]
[Analyzing Host Integrity…]
On cue, numbers appeared.
Strength: 0.6
Agility: 0.7
Physique: 0.4
Spirit: 0.9
Baseline Human Average = 1.0
Status: Severely Weakened.
Is this what I think it is? Could this be a system interface? Adrian's pulse quickened. His mind, clouded by pain, sharpened instantly as he looked at the clear, measurable, and undeniable data that was on the holographic interface before him.
It was like staring at a mini-spreadsheet that described his body itself. Unsurprisingly, the numbers told him what instinct had already screamed: he was below average in everything. He was weak, fragile, and barely clinging on.
But the numbers also meant clarity. Systems weren't chaotic as they had rules. They could be understood, manipulated, and even optimized.
Looking at the interface, his old instincts as an analyst stirred.
Then another line etched itself across the glowing panel.
[Additional Resources Detected]
[Soul Points Available: 4]
Adrian blinked as the gears in his mind twirled. A System and Four Soul Points! Are those resources I could use to get myself out of this current predicament?
Before he could think further, a low laugh rumbled from the shadows.
He turned. Across the corridor, a massive figure stirred. The torchlight caught on a scarred face and yellow teeth bared in a grin. The man's eyes had locked onto Adrian's like a predator spotting easy prey.
"Well, look who's finally awake," the brute said, voice thick with cruel sarcasm. He shoved his face against the iron bars as his meaty fingers curled through the gaps. "What a surprise! The bride-killer lives."
The mocking laughter of others followed from neighboring cells, their voices jeering and spitting insults.
Adrian's gut tightened. His body wanted to recoil, but his mind sharpened. He focused on the massive figure of the prisoner in the opposite cell, and unexpectedly, the System panel flickered again.
[Analyzing Target…]
Strength: 1.8
Agility: 1.1
Physique: 1.6
Spirit: 0.7
Once again, the numbers appeared clean and cold. Adrian's breath caught as he realized something. It wasn't just him. The system could also read the attributes of others.
Another line pulsed as a chime echoed in his mind.
[Optional Function Unlocked…]
[Replicate Attribute from Target?]
[Cost: 1 Soul Point per Attribute.]
Adrian's heart thudded even louder. He could replicate other people's stats. Could he take a fragment of the brute's strength or his physique and make them his own? If that was the case, then it was beyond incredible.
But his analytical brain screamed even more questions: What exactly were soul points? And if they run out, how could they be replenished?
The analyst him was really against using these soul points before he had a clear understanding of their value. But another voice cut through the storm.
I have to survive first and then calculate later.
In the cell across, the brute's grin widened. He rattled the bars, causing the metal to shriek. "What're you smirking at, corpse? You'll be the first I tear apart when they throw us to the pits."
Adrian's fists trembled. Clearly, he didn't have the luxury of hesitation. If he stayed this weak, he'd be crushed long before answers came.
His jaw tightened, and he whispered under his breath.
"…Do it. Replicate the target's physique and strength attributes."
The panel flared.
[Replicating Physique… -1 Soul Point]
[Replicating Strength… -1 Soul Point]
In just a split second, heat surged through his veins, searing but exhilarating. His chest expanded as if fresh air had finally reached starving lungs. His limbs steadied and no longer trembled. The ache in his muscles dulled. He clenched his fists and felt something new beneath his skin. He felt sturdiness.
It was not overwhelming power yet. But it was enough to let him soak in the joy of knowing he wasn't helpless anymore.