The night was cold.
Not the kind that bit flesh, but the kind that seeped in, quiet and patient, until even his bones felt hollow. He hadn't dared sleep in the alleys—too easy for soldiers or drunkards to find him. Instead, he'd climbed. Fingers scraped brick, knees bruised against stone, until he hauled himself onto the slanted roof of a storage house.
The shingles were loose, uneven, and smelled of tar, but it was safer than the streets. Safer than being seen.
He slept poorly—half-waking at every creak, every distant bark of a guard dog. Dreams churned with images that weren't his: chains clattering, torches burning, a boy's last, hopeless breath.
When dawn came, he was still alive. And that counted for something.
A faint chime echoed in his skull.
[Dawn Cycle Detected]
[Daily Quest Available: Training Regimen]
The text unfurled across his vision, crisp as etched steel.
[DAILY TRAINING]
— 100 Push-Ups
— 100 Sit-Ups
— 100 Squats
— 10 km Run
— 30 Minutes Horse Stance (Static Hold)
— 35 Minutes Controlled Breathing (Meditation: Endurance & Focus)
Failure: Stamina Drain, -1 Vitality for 24h
Completion: Rewards Available
Rewards:
Full Energy Restoration — Negates exhaustion penalties.
Random Power (Affinity Tier Roll: Gray → Skye Blue → Blue → Pink → Purple → Red → Gold)
Random Item (Weapon, Potion, Dungeon Key, Legendary, etc.)
+(20×(1/10) of required exp to level up) EXP
[Note: At Lv.21+, only one reward may be chosen per completion.]
He blinked at it, then groaned into his hands.
"You've got to be kidding me."
His body, this frail little husk, already trembled from climbing a roof last night. Just looking at the word push-up made his ribs ache. A ten-kilometer run? He wasn't even sure his legs could carry him a tenth of that without buckling.
And yet—
The rewards glittered in his mind's eye. A random power. A legendary item. Even the energy restoration could mean the difference between life and collapsing in the gutter.
He sat up slowly, joints cracking. The rooftops of the Fire Nation capital stretched around him, tiled in reds and browns, smoke curling from chimneys as the city stirred awake. The banners of the Fire Lord fluttered in the early breeze, golden suns against crimson cloth.
For a long moment, he just stared at the words. At the challenge.
It was absurd. Impossible. Cruel.
But survival was cruel too.
His ribs burned as he went back down, palms grinding against rough shingles. One… two… His arms quivered, breath shallow. By twenty he was panting. By fifty he thought he might vomit. He stopped counting after that—just pushed until the world narrowed into motion, pain, motion again.
[Push-Ups: 100/100 Complete]
He collapsed flat on his back, lungs clawing for air. But the screen didn't fade. The next line still glared at him like a judge.
Sit-Ups.
So he dragged himself upright, clasped his hands behind his head, and started. Every curl of his body sent fire through his thin abdomen, ribs grinding against skin. His past life might have called it a "workout." This life called it survival.
By the time he finished the squats, his legs trembled like reeds in a storm. The run nearly killed him—bare feet slapping against red stone streets, weaving past sleepy vendors and early patrols. He coughed blood once, nearly collapsed twice. But the System didn't care. It only counted.
By the end, he was on his knees in an empty back alley, chest heaving.
[10 km Run: Complete]
Only two remained.
The horse stance was torment. Thighs screamed, arms extended until they shook, the minutes dripping by like molten lead. Meditation was worse. Sitting still, forcing his breathing even when every nerve begged him to stop—that was hell.
When it finally ended, he fell sideways into the dust, half-conscious.
[DAILY TRAINING COMPLETE]
[REWARDS GRANTED]
— Full Energy Restoration Applied
— Random Power Rolled: Skye-Blue Tier → Heat Resistance
— Random Item Granted: Rusted Iron Dagger (Durability: Poor)
— +20 EXP
LEVEL UP!
[EXP: 12/20]
[Level: 2]
Energy flooded his body, sudden and sharp—like cold water poured into a cracked jar. The pain ebbed, exhaustion wiped away, but the memory of it clung to his muscles like ghosts.
In his hand lay a dagger. The blade was nicked, the handle wrapped in fraying cloth, but it was steel. Real. Tangible.
And heat no longer scorched his skin as the morning sun climbed higher. A small thing—but in the Fire Nation, even small resistances could be life.
He looked at the screen again, at the promise of what this could become.
All rewards. Every day. For now.
But later? After Level 20? Only one. He'd have to choose.
His lips curled into a thin smile.
"Fine," he whispered. "I'll take them all while I can. And when the choice comes… I'll be strong enough to pick right."
For the first time ever, he felt like he was building something.
"Status."
The System obeyed.
[STATUS SCREEN – HOST: UNKNOWN (NAME NOT SET)]
Age: 12
Race: Human
Class: ???
Title: None
Health: 90/110
Stamina: 60/60
Chi: 40/40
Stats:
Strength: 4
Agility: 5
Endurance: 3
Vitality: 3
Perception: 6
Intelligence: 7
Willpower: 5
Charisma: 4
Available Stat Points: 3
Affinity:
— Earth: Locked
— Fire: Locked
— Air: Locked
— Water: Locked
— Energy: Locked
Skills:
— Pain Resistance (Skye-Blue Tier)
— Street Instinct (Gray Tier)
— Heat Resistance (Skye-Blue Tier)
Status Effects:
— Malnourished (Lingering)
— Untrained Bender Potential
EXP: 12/20
Level: 2
He blinked. Every stat had climbed by one. Not much—not yet—but enough to feel the difference. His arms didn't sag quite as heavily. His breaths didn't tear at his lungs. Even his mind felt sharper, like dust had been swept from the corners.
The System hovered on a line that still bothered him.
[Name: Not Set]
He hesitated. Names were weight. The boy who had owned this body once had been Lee. A child broken by hunger, forgotten in the alleys of the Fire Nation. A ghost.
But he wasn't that boy. Not anymore.
Slowly, he whispered, "Not Lee."
His lips curved. A name settled into his thoughts. Here, in the Fire Nation, it had to be something that is connected to the flames.
"…Kaen."
The System pulsed.
[Host Designation Updated: Kaen]
A shiver ran through him. The name carried weight, a strange aura, as if the world itself acknowledged it. He didn't know why. Didn't know what it meant. But he liked the way it settled on his tongue—solid, dangerous. A name that could burn itself into memory.
His gaze shifted to the remaining notification.
[Stat Point Available: 3]
He stared at his stats. Strength: 4. Weak, brittle. He needed more. If he couldn't even defend himself, no amount of cleverness would matter.
"Strength," he decided.
[Strength: 4 → 7]
His arms tingled faintly, as though unseen weights had been lifted from them. He flexed his fingers, clenched his fist. A little bit of muscle—the difference was there. A seed, waiting to grow.
He exhaled, staring at the rusted dagger in his hand. he have a new name now. A new beginning.
"Kaen," he whispered again, almost testing it. The sound settled in the air like a promise.
Hunger gnawed at him harder than the ache in his muscles. Restored energy didn't mean a full stomach, and if he didn't eat soon, he'd collapse before the next training even began.
He had no idea how to find a job. Which left him only one path.
The thief's path.
The market was alive with morning chatter—vendors shouting over one another, the scent of roasted chestnuts and fried dough thick in the air. Kaen's stomach growled so loudly he winced.
He picked his first target carefully: a stall stacked with steamed buns, the vendor too busy haggling with a noblewoman to notice a shadow passing by. Kaen slipped between the press of bodies, fingers quick, and the bun vanished into his sleeve.
No shout followed him. No chase. Just the warm weight of food against his arm. He didn't even stop moving—just drifted with the crowd until he ducked into an alley and devoured it in three bites.
The second came easier. A fruit stand this time—his hand darting out like a striking snake, an apple gone before the merchant even blinked. He forced himself to keep walking, face calm, heart pounding.
[Skill Acquired: Theft (Gray Tier)]
A cold thrill shot through him at the notification. His lips curled. He hadn't been caught. And now the System itself acknowledged it.
By nightfall, he was back on the slanted roof of the warehouse, belly no longer hollow, dagger close at hand. He drifted into sleep with the faintest of smiles.
[Dawn Cycle Detected]
[Daily Quest Available: Training Regimen]
His body screamed at the thought of doing it again. But excitement stirred in him too. The rewards, the growth—yesterday had nearly killed him, but it had also changed him.
He started slow, joints aching but steadier than before. Push-ups burned, but he didn't collapse so quickly. Sit-ups tore fire through his core, but he found a rhythm. The run nearly brought him to blackout again—vision swimming, legs shaking—but compared to yesterday, he could breathe through it.
Every motion hurt. Every second felt like it could snap him in half. Yet it was different.
Better.
He was still weak, still frail—but he wasn't breaking. Not the way he had yesterday.
And that meant the System was working.