Cold.
That was the first thing Fredy felt again.
Not pain.
Not fear.
Just… cold.
---
"…Still alive…"
His eyes opened slightly, vision blurry and unfocused.
The alley was quieter now.
No footsteps.
No voices.
The thugs were gone.
For a moment, Fredy didn't move.
He just lay there, staring at the dark sky above the narrow gap between buildings.
"…So this is the Marvel world, huh…"
The thought came slowly.
No confirmation.
No proof.
But instinct told him.
The city. The chaos. The randomness of violence.
This wasn't normal.
And more importantly—
No one had come to save him.
No hero.
No miracle.
No Spider-Man swinging in at the last second.
A dry laugh escaped his lips.
"…So much for luck."
---
Pain returned next.
Not all at once—but piece by piece.
His ribs ached.
His stomach burned.
Every breath felt wrong.
"…I need to move…"
Fredy forced his body to respond.
His arm trembled as he pushed himself up.
Failed.
Collapsed.
"…Damn it…"
He gritted his teeth and tried again.
This time—he managed to roll onto his side.
Progress.
Slow. Pathetic. But real.
---
[Status Updated]
---
The blue screen flickered into existence again.
---
[Strength: 1.2]
[Endurance: 1.3]
[Speed: 1]
---
Fredy stared at it.
"…That's it?"
A bitter feeling rose in his chest.
He almost died.
And this was the result?
"...This is what you call growth?"
---
No response.
The system remained silent.
---
Fredy exhaled slowly, wincing from the pain.
"…No. Think."
Complaining wouldn't help.
Dying wouldn't help either.
If anything—
That small increase was proof.
Proof that the system wasn't useless.
Just… cruel.
---
"…Near death equals growth…"
He said it out loud this time.
Testing the logic.
"If that's true…"
Then normal effort was meaningless.
Which meant—
"This world is going to kill me if I stay weak."
---
A distant siren echoed again.
Closer this time.
Fredy stiffened slightly.
Police?
Ambulance?
It didn't matter.
Getting found like this would only bring problems.
Questions he couldn't answer.
A situation he couldn't control.
"…Move."
---
He forced his body forward.
One inch at a time.
Each movement sent sharp pain through his ribs.
His breathing turned uneven.
But he didn't stop.
---
Minutes passed.
Or maybe longer.
Time blurred.
---
Eventually, he reached the end of the alley.
The street beyond was dimly lit.
A few cars passed by.
People walked without paying attention.
Normal.
Everything looked… normal.
---
Fredy leaned against the wall, barely standing.
"…This is insane…"
He almost laughed again.
The world didn't stop.
Didn't care.
No matter what happened in that alley—
Life moved on.
---
"…Good."
He whispered.
Because that meant one thing.
No one was going to help him.
---
His gaze hardened slightly.
"That means I don't rely on anyone."
---
A sudden dizziness hit him.
His vision darkened at the edges.
Too much blood loss.
Too much damage.
"…Not yet…"
He clenched his fist weakly.
"I'm not done yet…"
---
He needed somewhere to rest.
Somewhere hidden.
Safe enough.
---
Fredy staggered forward, each step unsteady.
His body screamed at him to stop.
To lie down.
To give up.
---
He ignored it.
---
After what felt like forever, he found it.
An abandoned-looking building.
Broken windows.
Unlocked door.
No lights.
No people.
---
"Perfect…"
---
He slipped inside.
The air was stale.
Dust filled the space.
But it was quiet.
Hidden.
Enough.
---
Fredy collapsed against the wall, sliding down to the floor.
His breathing was shallow now.
His body finally reaching its limit.
---
"…System…"
He muttered weakly.
No response.
---
"…Figures…"
---
His eyes slowly began to close.
But this time—
There was no fear.
---
Because now he understood.
---
"This world…"
He whispered.
"…doesn't care if I live or die…"
---
His fingers tightened slightly.
---
"…So I'll make it care."
---
Darkness took him.
---
End of Chapter 2