The rain was cold. It soaked through Han Sen's tattered cloak, clinging to his skin like a wet shroud. Every step across the muddy cobblestones felt like a battle. His vision was a blurred mess of grey and black.
[HP: 2/10]
[Status: Critical. Internal bleeding detected.]
He could feel the warmth of Nixi against his chest. She was the only thing keeping him from freezing. The little bird was silent, sensing the predatory weight of the Huntsman still lingering in the city air.
Han Sen turned into a narrow alleyway in the deepest part of the Slums. The smell of rotting wood and coal smoke was thick here. It was the scent of people who had nothing left to lose.
He stopped in front of a collapsed stone building: a ruined shrine to a forgotten god. The roof was mostly gone, and the floor was covered in wet straw and shattered glass.
A group of beggars sat in the corner, huddled around a small, sputtering fire. They looked up as Han Sen entered. Their gazes were heavy and hollow: the look of vultures waiting for a carcass to stop moving.
[Detected: 4 Homeless Commoners (Level 2-4)]
"Keep moving, brat," one of them rasped. He held a sharpened piece of rebar in his hand. "This spot is taken. Find your own hole to die in."
Han Sen didn't speak. He didn't even look at them. He simply walked to the opposite corner and sat down against the damp stone wall. He was too tired to argue, and his 2 HP made any physical conflict a gamble he couldn't afford.
He opened his skill menu. He needed to survive the night. He looked at a basic passive skill: [Basic Recovery].
[Allocating Skill Points: 8,000,000]
[Basic Recovery has evolved into: Eternal Fountain of Life (Passive).]
A sudden, strange silence filled Han Sen's mind. The pain in his chest didn't vanish, but it shifted. It became a dull, manageable throb. The internal bleeding stopped as if an invisible hand had pinched his veins shut.
[HP: 3/10]
[HP: 4/10]
The beggars in the corner watched him. They saw his pale face and the way his breath hitched, but they didn't see the god-level healing taking place. To them, he was just another Level 1 mistake waiting for the end.
"I said get out!" the man with the rebar shouted, standing up. He felt emboldened by Han Sen's silence. He walked toward Han Sen, the metal rod scraping against the floor.
Han Sen raised his head. He didn't use a skill. He didn't even stand up. He just looked at the man.
The "Gaze" was enough. It was the look of a man who had stitched a soul together and looked a City Lord in the eye. It was cold, deep, and utterly devoid of fear.
The beggar froze. The rebar shook in his hand. He didn't know why, but his instincts were screaming at him to run. It felt like he was standing in front of a sleeping dragon.
"Sit down," Han Sen said. His voice was quiet, but it carried a weight that made the air in the shrine feel heavy.
The man scrambled back to his fire, his face turning a sickly shade of white. He didn't say another word.
Han Sen closed his eyes. He could feel the pulse of the Huntsman's compass searching the city, but it couldn't find him through the layers of mud, rain, and his [Veil of the Non-Existent].
He reached into his bag and touched the records of the Heavenly Beast Sect. He had a laboratory to build and a hunter to kill. But first, he would let his 10 HP body rest in the dirt.
The mud was cold, but it was safe. For now.