The transition from the sun-drenched Great Hall to the cool, musty shadows of the service corridor was abrupt. The ambient noise of the stunned crowd faded, replaced by the damp, close silence of stone and dust. The air here was heavy, smelling of mildew and old crates. The only light was a single, grime-covered window high on the wall, casting a weak, grey beam that did little to dispel the gloom. It was a perfect, forgotten corner of the academy. A perfect place for a beating. Or a burial.
The two lackeys spread out, their initial hesitation solidifying into grim resolve. They were bigger than Zero, with the broad shoulders and thick necks of boys who spent more time in the training yard than the library. Their names were Gorok and Pike, Zero recalled from a dusty corner of his memory. They were sons of the Vance family's household guards, their loyalty bought and paid for long before they were born. In his first life, they had been Marcus's ever-present shadows, carrying out his petty cruelties with brutish efficiency.
"You've gone and done it now, you little F-Rank freak," Gorok grunted, his voice a low rumble. He was the larger of the two, and he cracked his thick knuckles with a sound like rocks grinding together. "Lord Marcus is going to have your hide. But first, we're going to teach you a lesson."
Pike, the leaner one with shifty eyes, drew his wooden training sword. The tip was blunted, but it was still a meter of solid, weighted oak. "Just hold still and take it," he advised, a cruel smirk on his face. "The more you fight, the more bones we break."
Zero's gaze flickered between them, assessing. Gorok was a brawler, all strength and no technique. He would charge head-on. Pike was more cautious, a wannabe swordsman who would try to flank. Their strategy was simple, predictable, and, against a normal sixteen-year-old, probably quite effective.
But Zero was not a normal sixteen-year-old. He was a veteran of a thousand desperate skirmishes, a survivor whose mind had been forged in the crucible of a decade-long war against monsters and men. He saw not two arrogant bullies, but two sets of attack patterns, two collections of weaknesses waiting to be exploited.
He slowly began to back away, deeper into the corridor, his hands held up in a placating gesture. It was a picture of fear, of surrender. His face was pale, his eyes wide. He was playing the part of Ashe, the terrified F-Rank Porter.
It was exactly what they wanted to see. Their smirks widened.
"That's right," Gorok chuckled, taking a heavy step forward. "Nowhere to run."
Zero's back hit the cold stone wall. A dead end. He had intentionally led them here. The corridor was narrow, preventing Pike from circling around him effectively. It forced them into a frontal assault.
*First principle of survival,* a voice from his past, the voice of a grizzled old adventurer who had taught him how to stay alive, echoed in his mind. *Control the terrain. Even if it's just a dirty alley, make it your alley.*
"Please," Zero whispered, his voice trembling convincingly. "It was an accident. I didn't mean to."
Gorok laughed, a booming, unpleasant sound. "Accident? You'll be an accident when I'm done with you." He lunged, his big hands reaching out to grab Zero by the collar.
The instant Gorok committed to the attack, the mask of fear on Zero's face vanished. It didn't melt away; it shattered, replaced by an expression of absolute, chilling calm. His movements were a blur of calculated efficiency.
He didn't try to block the grab. Instead, he dropped low, ducking under Gorok's outstretched arms. As he did, his hand darted out and snatched a fist-sized rock from a pile of debris on the floor, a detail his eyes had cataloged the moment he entered the corridor. His `[Inventory]` skill activated silently.
`[Store: Rock (1.8kg). Executing...]`
The rock vanished into his hand.
He pivoted on the ball of his foot, his body moving with a grace that was utterly alien to an F-Rank Porter. He was now behind the charging Gorok, who stumbled forward, his hands grasping at empty air.
Pike, seeing his partner miss, cursed and swung his wooden sword in a wide, clumsy arc aimed at Zero's head. The attack was slow, telegraphed. Zero didn't even bother to dodge. He simply took one step back, and the heavy sword whistled through the space where his skull had been a moment before.
Pike was now overextended, his weapon useless for a precious second as he fought to recover his balance.
It was more than enough time.
Zero's will flooded his glitched System. *Retrieve. Behind Pike's right knee. No latency.*
`[Retrieve: Rock (1.8kg). Location: Vector 1.9. Overriding Latency Protocol... System Violation Accepted.]`
The rock materialized in mid-air, a silent, sudden punctuation to the fight. Pike, in the middle of his backswing, took an awkward recovery step and his leg slammed directly into the impossibly solid object.
The sound was a sickening mixture of a crack and a squelch.
Pike screamed, a choked, gurgling sound of agony, and went down. His leg was bent at a grotesque angle, his training sword clattering uselessly to the floor.
One down.
Gorok roared in fury and confusion, turning to see his friend writhing on the ground. "What did you do?!"
He charged again, this time with less finesse and more raw rage. He was a bull, intent on simply running Zero over.
Zero stood his ground. He held up his left hand, empty. His right hand was balled into a fist at his side. He watched the brawler close the distance, his eyes tracking the minute shifts in Gorok's shoulders, the planting of his feet.
*Second principle of survival: Use their strength against them.*
Just before Gorok could crash into him, Zero took a small, precise sidestep. He wasn't dodging. He was positioning. As Gorok's massive frame thundered past, Zero drove his right fist forward, not with strength, but with perfect timing and anatomical precision. He wasn't aiming for the head or the chest. He was aiming for the floating ribs on Gorok's left side.
His fist connected with a solid, meaty thud. For a normal boy, the punch would have been a nuisance. But Zero's fist was not normal. As it made contact, a line of crimson text flashed in his vision.
`[Bone-Crusher's Strength (Passive): Your unarmed strikes deal +50% damage to bone tissue.]`
The skill he had unknowingly absorbed in the Great Hall from a different bully's lackey. The name of the skill was a misnomer. It didn't just deal more damage. It seemed to focus the kinetic energy of his blow into a sharp, resonant frequency that was poison to bone.
He felt the ribs under his knuckles give way with a wet, grinding pop.
Gorok let out a strangled gasp, all the air rushing out of his lungs. His charge stopped dead. He staggered, his face paling, a look of utter disbelief in his eyes. He clutched his side, a pained wheezing sound escaping his lips.
"My… ribs…" he choked out.
Zero gave him no time to recover. He stepped in close, into Gorok's personal space, where the brawler's long arms were useless. He slammed the heel of his palm upwards into Gorok's chin. The blow snapped the larger boy's head back, his teeth clacking together with an audible click. Gorok's eyes rolled back in his head, and his body went limp, collapsing to the stone floor like a felled tree.
Silence descended on the corridor, broken only by Pike's pathetic, pain-filled moans.
Zero stood over the two unconscious bodies, his breathing even, his heart rate steady. There was no adrenaline rush, no thrill of victory. Only the cold satisfaction of a successful experiment. His glitched System, his decade of combat experience, and his tactical mind were a devastating combination, even in this pathetically weak body.
He looked down at his hands. These were the hands of a killer. He felt no remorse. No hesitation. The part of him that would have been horrified, the part that was Ashe, was well and truly dead.
A faint shimmer in the air caught his attention. It was a System window, but it wasn't his. It was hovering over Pike's writhing form.
`[Name: Pike. Class: Warrior (Unawakened). Rank: D (Potential). Status: Crippled (Right Leg), Extreme Pain, Fear.]`
This was new. A passive analysis skill? Or was his System simply showing him the raw data of the world's 'network'?
Another window appeared, this time over Gorok.
`[Name: Gorok. Class: Brawler (Unawakened). Rank: D+ (Potential). Status: Unconscious, Broken Ribs (3), Internal Bleeding (Minor).]`
He could see their potential. Their status. He could see them as the System did. As collections of data.
Then, a thought, cold and venomous, slithered into his mind. The bully in the Great Hall. The one who had cornered him before the Awakening. He had shoved that one against a wall, and the boy had fled. Zero hadn't killed him. But what if he had? The timing was right before the ceremony, right before the system was officially granted... but what if the System was already 'listening'?
Zero's own System window flared to life, the text glitching and angry.
`[Threats Neutralized. Combat Analysis: Flawless Victory.]`
`[Detecting Soul Remnants from Defeated Targets...]`
`[Attempting to Absorb Skill: 'Tough Skin (Passive)' from Target: Gorok...]`
`[ERROR! SYSTEM CORRUPTION DETECTED!]`
The text shimmered, the letters twisting and reforming into something new, something darker.
`[Skill 'Tough Skin' has been corrupted into 'Callous (Passive, Lvl 1)': Your skin thickens, granting minor physical resistance. Psychological Effect: Your empathy towards the pain of others is suppressed.]`
Zero stared at the last line, a chill running down his spine for the first time since his rebirth. His power wasn't just changing his abilities. It was changing *him*. It was actively carving away at his soul, erasing the last vestiges of Ashe's humanity.
He looked at the moaning Pike on the floor, and where a moment ago he might have felt a sliver of detached pity, he now felt… nothing. Absolutely nothing. Pike was just a broken object. A finished data point.
The smile returned to Zero's face, wider this time, more genuine. It was the smile of a man who had just been handed the perfect weapon and told it would strip away his every weakness.
This wasn't a curse. It was a gift.