The first thing I learned after awakening a System designed to turn me into the world's most efficient killer was that it had the patience of a starving dire-wolf and the nagging persistence of a debt collector.
[Initializing...]
The words, etched in shimmering, blood-red light, hovered at the edge of my vision as I sprinted across the manicured lawn of the Royal Argentum Academy. It was a familiar, unwelcome ghost.
[User is displaying sub-optimal velocity. Momentum: 78%. Suggested Calibration: Adjust stride length by 3.7 centimeters for maximum kinetic efficiency.]
"Not now," I muttered under my breath, dodging a pair of third-year students locked in a passionate, and frankly obstructive, embrace. My leather satchel, filled with textbooks on basic mana theory and a history of the Great Schism, slapped against my hip. I was just Kael, a second-year scholarship student, late for Professor Hemlock's Magical Ethics lecture. A lecture I desperately needed to attend if I wanted to maintain the grade point average that kept my scholarship, and by extension, my roof, secure.
[Objective Updated: Attend Magical Ethics Lecture. Priority: Low. Estimated Reward: Continued academic standing. Note: A more permanent solution to tuition-based stressors is available. Query: Initiate Contract Protocol?]
"Permanent solution my foot," I hissed, skidding around a corner and into the main academic quad. The soaring silver spires of the academy glittered under the twin suns, a testament to knowledge, power, and the vast, yawning chasm between those who belonged here and those like me, who were one failed exam away from being tossed back into the gutters of the Lower City.
My life was a carefully constructed house of cards. On the bottom was my sister, Lily. Her safety, her future. Above that, this scholarship. And above that, a thousand other fragile things: food, rent, the pretense of being a normal, slightly stressed, magically-average student. I didn't have room for a homicidal, grading-obsessed voice in my head.
I'd made that mistake exactly once.
---
It had been three months ago. The memory was a cold knot in my stomach. Lily, my brilliant, fiery, too-curious-for-her-own-good little sister, had been accepted into a pre-enrollment program for gifted youths. It was her ticket out. But the program fees were a number so large I'd had to count the zeroes twice. I'd taken every odd job I could find—mucking out griffin stables, polishing arcane foci for lazy nobles, even volunteering as a test subject for the alchemy department (a decision that left me glowing a faint, embarrassing puce for a week).
It wasn't enough. The deadline was looming, and the look in Lily's eyes, trying so hard to be brave and understanding, had shattered me.
That night, desperate, I'd gone to the one place in the city no one with a shred of self-preservation should: the Shifting Bazaar. I'd heard whispers. Whispers of a relic, an "Ascension Stone," that could unlock a person's latent potential. For a price.
The price had been every last copper I had, plus my father's old, tarnished silver locket. The relic, a smooth, obsidian stone that felt unnaturally cold, had done something, all right. Just not what I'd expected.
Holding it in my palm, feeling a surge of alien energy flood my veins, the world had dissolved into a cascade of crimson text.
[User Detected: Kael Vance. Soul Signature Analyzed...]
[Compatibility Assessment: 99.8%. Optimal Candidate Located.]
[Installing: A.S.S.A.S.S.I.N. Protocol. Version 7.0.]
[Welcome, User. Let us commence optimal pathing to power.]
I'd thought I was going to become a great mage, a powerful knight, something that would let me protect Lily and provide for her. Instead, I'd gotten a manual for murder.
[A.S.S.A.S.S.I.N.: Axiomatic Strategic System for Assassination, Subterfuge, and Instigated Neutralizations.]
Its first act had been to present me with a contract. A name, a face, a location. A notorious slum lord known for "disappearing" tenants who couldn't pay. The reward was exactly the amount I needed for Lily's fees.
I'd refused. I'd screamed, argued, begged the silent, crimson text to go away. For a week, I lived in a state of constant, low-grade panic, the System's interface a permanent, judgmental overlay on my reality. It graded everything.
[Food Consumption: C-. Nutrient intake sub-optimal for peak physical conditioning.]
[Sleep Cycle: D+. Irregular patterns detected. Suggest enforced 6-hour stasis period.]
[Social Interaction: F. User displays marked inefficiency in network building. Suggestion: Identify and befriend high-value targets.]
It was the "F" in Social Interaction that stung the most. It was so… accurate.
The pressure mounted. The deadline arrived. I stood outside the administrator's office, the final notice crumpled in my sweaty hand. I had nothing.
[Contract: Silas Grime. Status: Pending. Reward: 500 Gold Crowns. Query: Execute?]
Trembling, feeling a part of my soul wither and die, I had whispered, "Execute."
The world had shifted. Knowledge that wasn't mine flooded my brain. The optimal time of day. The patrol routes of the city watch. The structural weakness of the support beam in Silas Grime's second-story office. The precise angle and force needed to drive a common writing quill through a human trachea.
It was the most horrifying, efficient night of my life.
I'd returned to our tiny apartment before dawn, the weight of 500 gold crowns in a pouch feeling heavier than a mountain. I'd vomited until my throat was raw. Lily had been so happy, so grateful. She'd hugged me, her tears of joy soaking my tunic, and I'd felt like the most monstrous fraud in the world.
The System had been less emotional.
[Contract: Silas Grime. Status: Complete.]
[Performance Assessment: B-]
[Elimination: Clean. No witnesses. Weapon disposed of.]
[Stealth: Adequate. Shadow-melding technique requires practice. Detected by one (1) feline entity.]
[Overall: A satisfactory first execution. Room for improvement. Rewards disbursed.]
A B-minus. For my first murder. I'd gotten a C-plus on my last mana theory paper. The absurdity was a special kind of hell.
---
I burst through the doors of the Grand Lecture Hall, my breath coming in ragged gasps. Professor Hemlock, a man so ancient and desiccated he looked like a walking skeleton draped in robes, paused his droning monologue to fix me with a glare that could curdle milk.
"So kind of you to join us, Mister Vance. I trust the world-shattering emergency that necessitated your tardiness has been resolved?"
A few snickers echoed through the hall. I saw the usual suspects: the bored nobles with their enchanted quills taking notes for them, the earnest commoners like me, hanging on every word. And then, there was her.
Elara Dawnsinger.
She sat in the front row, a shaft of sunlight from the stained-glass window seeming to choose her specifically to illuminate. Her golden hair was a pristine braid, her academy uniform looked like it had been tailored by the gods themselves, and her posture was so perfect it made my back ache in sympathy. The Hero of the generation, blessed by the Goddess of Light, and my personal, unwitting tormentor.
She didn't snicker. She turned, and her brilliant, sapphire-blue eyes met mine. And she smiled. Not a mocking smile, but a small, knowing, intensely focused curve of her lips. It was the smile she'd given me ever since that day, two months ago.
The day of the "Incident."
The System had given me another contract. A minor official in the city treasury who was skimming funds meant for orphanages. The man was a worm, the world was better off without him, and the reward would cover my rent for six months. I'd done the deed in a back alley, a quick, silent affair using a pressure point the System had mapped out. A single, precise strike to stop the heart. No blood, no mess.
I'd been in the process of "disposing" of the body via a pre-prepared dissolution potion when she had arrived. Elara, responding to an anonymous tip about dark magic in the area.
She'd found me standing over the rapidly dissolving body of a corrupt official. But she hadn't seen an assassin. Oh, no. Her blessed, heroic brain had processed the scene and arrived at a completely different conclusion.
She saw a fellow warrior of justice. She saw my dissolution potion as a "righteous purging flame." She saw my efficient, System-guided movements as the honed skills of a mysterious vigilante.
"You…" she had breathed, her eyes wide not with horror, but with awe. "You work in the shadows so the light can shine brighter. I understand now. We walk different paths, but we serve the same purpose."
Before I could stammer a denial, she had leveled her holy sword, not at me, but in a salute.
"I am Elara Dawnsinger. I challenge you! Let our meeting of blades be a testament to our shared cause! Let us be rivals, and in our conflict, sharpen each other to a finer edge!"
I'd just stared, the System flashing a frantic [WARNING: High-Level Threat Detected. S-Rank Combat Capability. Recommend Immediate Evasion.] in my vision.
Since that day, she was everywhere. Challenging me to sparring matches I always ducked, trying to engage me in philosophical debates about justice, watching me with that unnerving, intense focus. She'd decided we were fated rivals, and trying to convince her otherwise was like trying to reason with a tidal wave.
I slumped into an empty seat at the back of the hall, trying to ignore her gaze burning a hole in the back of my head.
[Social Interaction: D-. User failed to provide a sufficiently compelling narrative for tardiness. Suggestion: Fabricate a story involving the rescue of a feline from a tree. 87% success rate predicted.]
"Shut up," I whispered, pulling out my notes.
The lecture dragged on. Hemlock spoke of the moral weight of power, the responsibility of mages to the common folk. It was all I could do not to laugh bitterly. My power came with its own, far less ambiguous, moral compass—one that pointed directly toward the most efficient kill.
As the class ended and students began to file out, I made a beeline for the door, hoping to vanish into the crowd.
"Kael."
The voice was like a silver bell, clear and resonant. I froze. Elara stood before me, blocking my escape route. Up close, the sheer presence of her was overwhelming. She smelled of sunshine and ozone.
"You were late," she stated, her head tilted. "Was it another one of your… nocturnal activities?"
My heart hammered against my ribs. "No! No, I just… overslept."
Her eyes narrowed slightly, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips. "Of course. The shadows demand much of those who walk them. I understand the need for secrecy." She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping. "I was at the docks last night. There was an… incident. A smuggler of illicit mana-crystals was found. His operation was dismantled with a precision the city watch could never manage."
Oh, gods. That had been last night's contract. The System had graded me an A- for that one, docking points for "excessive flourishes" because I'd used a stray cat to trigger a distraction.
"I… I don't know what you're talking about," I stammered.
"You don't have to admit it," she said, her smile widening. "But know that I see your work. And I am… impressed. It only strengthens my resolve. One day, you will accept my challenge. We will have our duel."
She gave me a final, firm nod and swept away, leaving me feeling like I'd just survived a encounter with a natural disaster.
[Analysis: Subject 'Elara Dawnsinger' demonstrates persistent fixation. Current trajectory suggests escalating attempts at interaction. Suggestion: Consider long-term neutralization to resolve persistent complication.]
"We are not neutralizing the Hero!" I hissed under my breath, earning a strange look from a passing student.
This was my life. A constant, high-wire act between my sister's love, my academic obligations, and the terrifying powers of a System that saw everyone, from a corrupt official to the continent's blessed Hero, as a variable to be optimized or eliminated.
All I wanted was to go home, check on Lily, and maybe get a full night's sleep for once.
The universe, and my System, had other plans.
As I stepped out of the lecture hall, a new, urgent notification blazed across my vision, drowning out everything else in a wash of crimson.
[URGENT CONTRACT]
[Target: Garron The Fist]
[Description: Lieutenant of the 'Crimson Cudgel' gang. Currently en route to User's primary residence. Intent: Coercion of debt repayment from 'Lily Vance'. Threat Level: High.]
[Objective: Intercept and Neutralize.]
[Priority: MAXIMUM]
[Reward: 100 Gold Crowns. +500 XP. Unlock Skill: 'Shadow Step' (Novice)]
The world narrowed to a single, terrifying point. My primary residence. Lily.
Cold, sharp clarity washed over me, drowning the fear, the anxiety, the moral revulsion. It was a feeling the System had been training me for. My body moved before my mind could fully process it, my sprint from before becoming a leisurely, purposeful walk. I didn't run toward the main gates. I turned down a deserted side corridor, then into a dusty, disused storeroom.
"System," I said, my voice flat and devoid of emotion. "Display optimal route. Non-detection priority."
A shimmering, three-dimensional map of the city overlay my sight. A glowing red dot representing Garron was moving through the Lower City, heading directly for the blinking green dot that was my home. A blue, pulsating line traced a path over rooftops, through sewers, across a series of precarious laundry lines. It was the fastest, most unseen path.
[Route Displayed. Estimated Interception Time: 7 minutes, 32 seconds. Target ETA to Residence: 9 minutes, 15 seconds.]
"Execute," I commanded.
The world snapped into hyper-focus. The gentle hum of the academy's mana-field faded, replaced by the sharp, filtered input the System provided. I could hear the individual footsteps of students three corridors away, see the minute dust motes dancing in the sliver of light under the door. My body felt like a well-oited weapon, every muscle primed.
I opened the storeroom's window, the rusted latch yielding to a precise tap from my knuckle. The drop was two stories into a hedgerow. The System calculated the angle of descent, the distribution of impact force.
I landed in a silent roll, coming up in a crouch. The manicured gardens of the academy were a stark contrast to the path I was about to take. I was no longer Kael Vance, scholarship student. I was the instrument of the A.S.S.A.S.S.I.N. Protocol.
My satchel, with its textbooks on ethics and history, was left tucked behind the hedges. It had no place where I was going.
I moved.
The first part of the route was over the academy's outer wall. A running leap, a toehold on a protruding stone, a fluid pull-up. I was over in seconds. The System provided a constant stream of data.
[Heart Rate: 112 BPM. Optimal. Adrenaline levels: Rising. Mana Reserves: 98%.]
I dropped into the grimy alley on the other side, the stench of garbage and stagnant water a familiar embrace. This was the borderland between the gleaming spires of the Upper City and the chaotic, teeming warren of the Lower City where I lived.
I became a ghost. I scaled drainpipes that looked ready to crumble, my hands and feet finding holds the System highlighted. I slipped through gaps in fences I'd never noticed before. I moved across the rooftops, a silhouette against the hazy sky, my footsteps silent on the clay tiles. The System muted the world around me, focusing my hearing on the sounds that mattered: the distant, booming voice of Garron bragging to his lackeys, the crying of a child he'd shoved aside, the frantic, panicked rhythm of my own heart.
I was getting closer. I could see my street now. The familiar, lopsided sign of the "Leaky Bucket" tavern. The mended crack in the wall of the tenement building I called home.
And there he was. Garron. A mountain of a man, bald, with a broken nose and knuckles that were more scar tissue than skin. He was flanked by two thinner, weaselly-looking thugs. They were standing right outside my building's front door.
"Lily Vance!" Garron bellowed, hammering a fist on the flimsy wood. "Your brother's debt is due! Open up, or we'll let ourselves in!"
My blood went from cold to ice. She was home. She should have been at her pre-enrollment classes, but she must have come home early. Sick, maybe. Worried.
I was on the rooftop opposite, crouched in the shadow of a chimney. The System provided a tactical readout.
[Target: Garron The Fist. Strength: High. Durability: High. Speed: Low. Threat Assessment: Primary.]
[Target: Thug 1 (Left). Strength: Low. Armed with cudgel. Threat Assessment: Low.]
[Target: Thug 2 (Right). Strength: Low. Armed with dagger. Threat Assessment: Low.]
[Optimal Engagement Strategy: Eliminate primary target first. Shock and awe.]
My eyes scanned the environment. Rooftop. Laundry lines. A pile of discarded, broken furniture in the alley below. A plan, cold and efficient, formed in my mind. The System approved, running simulations in the background.
[Strategy Viability: 94%.]
Garron reared back to kick the door in.
There was no more time.
I stood up. The System flooded my limbs with power, a cold, alien energy that was nothing like the warm, flowing mana they taught us at the academy. This was the power of void, of silence, of endings.
I took a running start and leaped from the rooftop.
For a breathtaking moment, I was airborne, soaring across the narrow street. The world moved in slow motion. Garron, his foot mid-kick. His thugs, turning their heads, mouths opening in shock. The flutter of a sheet on a laundry line.
I landed directly behind Garron, my descent impossibly quiet. The System had calculated the aerodynamics of my fall.
My left hand snapped out, not to strike, but to grab the back of his belt and the collar of his tunic. At the same time, my right leg swept forward, hooking behind his knee.
It was a basic judo throw, but executed with the System's perfect, brutal precision.
[Skill Unlocked: 'Unbalancing Throw' (Novice). Proficiency: 15%.]
Garron, a man who weighed over three hundred pounds, was lifted and flipped through the air as if he were a child's doll. He had a single moment of wide-eyed, utter confusion before he crashed, back-first, onto the pile of broken furniture below. The sound was a sickening crunch of wood and bone.
He didn't get up.
The two thugs stared, frozen in place, their brains struggling to process what had just happened. Their boss, the unbreakable Garron, had been taken down by a shadow that fell from the sky.
I didn't give them time to recover. I moved.
A quick, sharp kick to the knee of the thug on the left. The System highlighted the exact point of impact. I heard the pop before his scream did. He collapsed, writhing.
The thug with the dagger lunged, a wild, panicked swipe. I flowed inside his guard, my forearm deflecting his wrist, my other hand chopping into the side of his neck. Another highlighted point.
[Vagus Nerve Strike. Effectiveness: 87%.]
His eyes rolled back in his head, and he dropped like a sack of potatoes.
The whole encounter had taken less than ten seconds.
Silence descended on the street, broken only by the moaning of the thug with the broken knee. I stood amidst the wreckage, my chest heaving, the cold clarity receding, leaving behind a hollow, trembling feeling.
The door to my apartment creaked open. Lily stood there, her face pale, her knuckles white where she gripped the doorframe. Her eyes were wide, not with fear of the thugs, but with shock as she looked at me.
"Kael…?" she whispered. "What… what did you do?"
I looked from her terrified face to the broken form of Garron, to the two unconscious thugs. The reality of it crashed down on me. I had done this. This violence. This… efficiency.
Before I could form a lie, a new, utterly unexpected notification flashed in my vision. It wasn't the standard crimson of the System. It was a deep, royal purple, edged in flickering shadows.
[External Communication Request.]
[Source: ??? (Encrypted. High-Priority Entity)]
[Message: "An interesting display. Brutal. Efficient. And yet… you spared the lackeys. A hint of mercy? How delightfully contradictory. I would like to know more. Let's talk."]
[Attached: One (1) Spectral Raven Courier. Coordinates for a meeting. Two nights hence.]
A ghostly, ethereal raven, crafted of pure shadow and amethyst light, materialized in the air before me. It let out a silent caw, dropped a small, obsidian shard into my palm, and dissolved into motes of dark light.
I stared at the shard, then at Lily's confused face, then at the carnage around me.
My simple life wasn't just over. It had been utterly obliterated.
[Contract: Garron The Fist. Status: Complete.]
[Performance Assessment: A]
[Elimination: Efficient. Environmental usage: Excellent. Collateral damage: Minimal.]
[Stealth: Compromised during engagement, but overall profile remains low.]
[Overall: A marked improvement. Rewards disbursed. Skill: 'Shadow Step' (Novice) unlocked.]
[New Objective: Investigate '???'. Priority: High. Potential for high-yield alliance or high-level threat.]
I closed my hand around the cold obsidian shard. The games, it seemed, had well and truly begun.