Ejilah sat cross-legged on the cracked concrete floor of the warehouse, his chest still rising and falling from the training earlier. The strange holographic interface still floated silently in front of him—unblinking, emotionless, and cold.
He narrowed his eyes.
[System Status]
[User: Ejilah Sara]
[Race: Human]
[Transformations: 0 (Kill a race-holder to unlock)]
[Level: 1]
[Strength: 10]
[Agility: 10]
[Endurance: 10]
[Stamina: 10]
[Energy: 100/100]
[Skills: None]
No tutorials. No voice. No hints. Just cold numbers.
Ejilah frowned. "So... kill to evolve?"
It felt sick. He'd taken lives for money, for missions—but now killing wasn't just survival or duty. It was required for growth. If that didn't make him a monster, what would?
All those race holders, ain't there like those monsters in fantasy books.
He rubbed his arms. They felt… denser. His muscles hadn't grown much, but his body felt different—more responsive, more stable.
"What's that look on your face?" Aron asked, sitting on an old wooden crate with a half-eaten protein bar in his hand.
Ejilah didn't answer at first. His eyes were still fixed on the translucent screen.
He finally stood up. "You can't see this, right?"
"See what?" Aron raised a brow.
Ejilah walked over, turning his head left and right, trying to find an angle. "A screen. It's in front of me. Floating. It just... showed up after I trained earlier."
Aron chuckled, wiping crumbs off his mouth. "You hit your head, bro?"
Ejilah held his hand out and tried moving the interface toward Aron. It didn't budge. It followed his line of sight like it was fixed in his mind.
[Unauthorized User Detected: No Access]
"No one else can see it," Ejilah muttered. "It's mine alone."
He opened another screen.
[Transformation Locked]
Condition: Kill a Supernatural Entity with Unique Racial Signature]
That was the price.
Aron noticed Ejilah staring at something again and stood. "You're serious?"
Ejilah looked at him for a moment and said quietly, "I'm not joking. Something changed inside me. I don't know what it is yet... but I'm not the same."
Aron tilted his head, studying his friend. "Yeah… you do look a little different."
Ejilah's reflection in a broken window confirmed it. His face hadn't changed much—same short, dark hair, rough complexion, and worn look from years of blood and exhaustion. But his *eyes* were sharper. His posture straighter. His skin had a faint glow to it—like something dormant had started to breathe beneath it.
He'd always been tough—but now… he felt unnaturally solid.
Next to him, Aron Piper looked like the golden boy he always was—blonde hair that fell naturally into place, sharp green eyes, and an expression that always mixed mischief and charm. He was the pretty one, the clean one. He rarely stained his hands, only did what had to be done. And even then, he made it look good.
Ejilah was the opposite. Gritty, tired, and cold. Messy black hair, sun-hardened skin, permanent bags under his eyes. Years of pain left no room for polish.
Aron ran a hand through his hair. "So what now, you've got alien powers or something?"
"Don't know what it is yet," Ejilah said, stepping toward the sandbag. "But I'm going to test it."
He lifted his arm and drove a punch into the bag. It shook violently. Dust burst from its seams.
"Huh," Aron muttered. "You hit harder than usual."
Ejilah's knuckles ached, but not as much as they should've. He repeated the hit. Faster. Harder. The sandbag jolted on its hook again.
He did pushups next. Then squats. Then sprints. Every time, his body obeyed faster, stronger, better. He wasn't superhuman—but he was no longer just a man.
He was... evolving.
Aron leaned against a wall, arms crossed. "If you really got something in you, I'd say you just became ten times more valuable."
Ejilah stayed quiet.
He didn't know if this system was a gift, a curse, or a trap. All he knew was that it was real.
They both sat down after the workout, digging into leftover meals they'd stolen earlier—a mix of canned stew, protein bars, and half-warm tea.
"Food tastes the same," Ejilah muttered.
"Still trash," Aron agreed, chewing loudly.
They ate in silence for a bit. The city outside buzzed with the distant sound of sirens, engines, and flickering neon. Even in peace, the streets screamed war.
Then Ejilah's burner phone buzzed.
He looked at the screen. *Blocked ID.*
He answered.
The voice that followed was slow, dark, and laced with authority.
"Ejilah. Aron. Get to the den. Now."
*Sin.* The gang leader. Their boss. The one who pulled the strings behind almost every crime syndicate on the East.
Ejilah's knuckles ached, but not as much as they should've. He repeated the hit. Faster. Harder. The sandbag jolted on its hook again.
He did pushups next. Then squats. Then sprints. Every time, his body obeyed faster, stronger, better. He wasn't superhuman—but he was no longer just a man.
He was... evolving.
Aron leaned against a wall, arms crossed. "If you really got something in you, I'd say you just became ten times more valuable."
Ejilah stayed quiet.
He didn't know if this system was a gift, a curse, or a trap. All he knew was that it was real.
They both sat down after the workout, digging into leftover meals they'd stolen earlier—a mix of canned stew, protein bars, and half-warm tea.
"Food tastes the same," Ejilah muttered.
"Still trash," Aron agreed, chewing loudly.
They ate in silence for a bit. The city outside buzzed with the distant sound of sirens, engines, and flickering neon. Even in peace, the streets screamed war.
Then Ejilah's burner phone buzzed.
He looked at the screen. *Blocked ID.*
He answered.
The voice that followed was slow, dark, and laced with authority.
"Ejilah. Aron. Get to the den. Now."
*Sin.* The gang leader. Their boss. The one who pulled the strings behind almost every crime syndicate on the East.
"Understood," Ejilah replied and hung up.
Aron raised a brow. "What did Daddy Death want?"
"Meeting," Ejilah said, standing up. "Sounds urgent."
Aron groaned. "Hope it's not another kill job. I barely got the senator's blood off my boots."
Ejilah strapped on his gear and zipped his jacket. His mind was already shifting into mission mode.
But beneath it all, the numbers from the screen still hovered in his thoughts.
*Strength: 10. Agility: 10. Endurance: 10.*
Basic. Unremarkable. But it was only the beginning.
One kill. That's what it would take to unlock something greater.
And in their line of work… that chance was never far away.
"Maybe I will meet one of all those supernatural beings soon. ".