The first thing Moon did after scaring his landlord half to death was take a shower.
The cramped stall in his bathroom barely had enough water pressure to rinse the soap off but he didn't care. He scrubbed violently and watched the black gore of the Rot Walkers swirl down the drain. The water ran dark gray for a solid ten minutes before it finally cleared.
Stepping out, he grabbed a threadbare towel and wiped the condensation off the cracked mirror. He stared at his reflection.
The hollow cheeks of a starving eighteen year old orphan were gone. His jawline was sharper and his shoulders were broader.
The 1.5 Overall Bodily Power he had accumulated in the Ashen Wastes wasn't just a number on a blue screen. It was a physical reconstruction of his entire anatomy.
He flexed his right hand and remembered the sickening but satisfying sizzle of his Necrotic Bile melting through undead bone.
"I need real food," Moon muttered. His stomach suddenly emitted a low and demanding growl. Opening his first Mana Node had kickstarted his metabolism into overdrive.
Throwing on a clean pair of faded jeans and a black hoodie, he grabbed his comm-pad and ordered delivery. He didn't order the cheap synthetic nutrient paste his predecessor lived on.
He blew 300 Credits on a massive spread of real vat grown beef, spiced noodles, and actual dairy milk from a high end restaurant in District 2.
When the delivery drone dropped the insulated packages at his door twenty minutes later, Moon devoured the meal like a starving animal.
As he ate, he flicked on the archaic holovision set sitting in the corner of his room.
A perfectly manicured news anchor appeared and her face was grave as a ticker scrolled beneath her.
"Authorities are still searching for the five individuals who vanished near the District 3 transit hub last night. This marks the forty second unexplained disappearance this week. The Albion Security Bureau attributes the rising missing persons rate to a surge in underground syndicate activity and spontaneous structural sinkholes."
Moon scoffed around a mouthful of noodles. "Sinkholes. Right. That's a creative way to say dragged into a hell dimension and eaten by goblins."
He leaned back and wiped grease from his chin.
The government knew. The Albion Republic was absolutely aware of the Apex Convergence System. You don't just lose hundreds of people across the city without noticing the pattern.
They were covering up the deaths of Awakened who failed their survival trials to prevent mass panic.
It made sense. If the general public knew they could be ripped from their beds at any moment and thrown into a death game, society would collapse overnight.
"Which means I'm entirely on my own," Moon concluded and tossed the empty takeout containers into the trash.
He pulled up his system interface.
[Name]: Moon Cross
[Talent]: Limitless Plunder (SSS)
[Mana Nodes]: 1/9 Opened
[Origin Points (OP)]: 500
[Attributes]
Overall Bodily Power: 1.5
Strength: 1.8
Agility: 1.3
Vitality: 1.3
Mana: 1.2
His raw stats were impressive for a beginner. He was already fifty percent stronger than a baseline human.
But thinking back to the Ashen Wastes, a cold realization settled over him.
He had survived purely on adrenaline, his overpowered SSS Grade talent, and a heavy rock.
His movements had been sloppy, desperate, and entirely devoid of technique. If he had faced something faster or smarter than a rotting zombie, he would be dead.
Raw power was useless if he didn't know how to wield it. He needed combat training and he needed it before the System pulled him into his next mandatory trial.
Moon spent the next hour walking through the streets of District 3. He ignored the sketchy alleyways and the automated vendors. His eyes scanned the glowing holographic signs for martial arts dojos.
Most of the places he found were modern fitness centers offering Aerobic Kickboxing for bored corporate workers. Useless.
Finally, nestled between a pawn shop and a rundown noodle stand, he spotted a faded neon sign. Iron Crane Gym Traditional Combat Arts.
Moon pushed open the heavy wooden door. A little bell chimed weakly.
The gym smelled of old sweat and floor wax. The interior was surprisingly spacious and lined with worn training mats and wooden practice dummies that looked like they had survived a minor war.
Sitting in the center of the mat and meditating with his eyes closed was an eccentric old man.
He wore a traditional silk training uniform that had seen better days and his long white beard was tied with a small red ribbon.
"The wind brings a troubled soul to my sanctuary," the old man said without opening his eyes. His voice was deep and resonant.
Moon raised an eyebrow. "Are you the instructor?"
The old man finally opened his eyes and revealed a piercing intense gaze. He stood up smoothly and clasped his hands behind his back.
"I am Master Rorick. Grandmaster of the Steel Phoenix Style. An ancient art passed down through generations, designed to shatter boulders and redirect the flow of the universe itself. What is it you seek, young man?"
"I need to learn how to fight," Moon said bluntly. "And I need to learn fast. I don't care about the flow of the universe. I want to know how to kill things efficiently without getting killed myself."
Master Rorick stroked his beard and looked Moon up and down.
"Impatience is the enemy of mastery. The Steel Phoenix Style requires years of dedicated discipline, a calm mind, and a preliminary registration fee of 5,000 Credits."
Moon almost laughed. Five grand was a steep price for a gym in this neighborhood. But with his 50,000 Credit balance from selling the Rot Walker Claw, it was pocket change.
"I'll pay it," Moon said and pulled out his comm-pad. "But I want a demonstration first. I need to know this isn't bullshit."
Rorick's eyes lit up with predatory greed for a fraction of a second before he masked it with a wise and serene smile.
"Very well. Approach the mat, young disciple. Witness the devastating power of the Iron Crane Annihilation Punch."
Moon stepped onto the mat and kept his hands loose by his sides.
Rorick dropped into a deep and incredibly wide stance. He took a dramatic whistling breath and pulled his fists to his waist. He began to chant something under his breath and his face turned slightly red as if he were summoning a massive well of internal chi.
"Observe!" Rorick shouted.
He launched himself forward and threw a flurry of rapid fire punches aimed squarely at Moon's chest.
[Ding!]
Moon didn't even need a system prompt. With his Agility sitting at 1.3, his enhanced nervous system processed Rorick's movements as if they were submerged in thick molasses.
The devastating strikes were painfully slow and completely uncoordinated. They were entirely devoid of any real kinetic force.
Moon didn't even bother to dodge. He just stood there.
Pap! Pap! Pap!
Rorick's fists bounced off Moon's chest sounding like wet towels hitting a brick wall. The old man gasped and clutched his knuckles with a wince of genuine pain.
Moon's 1.3 Vitality and 1.8 Strength meant his muscles were currently as dense as hardwood.
"Is that it?" Moon asked deadpan.
Rorick stumbled back and coughed to cover his embarrassment.
"Ah! Your natural defensive chi is formidable! But that was merely the first form! A true master holds back his lethal force to spare the uninitiated!"
Moon sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "You're a fraud, old man."
"A fraud?!" Rorick gasped and clutched his chest in mock offense. "The Steel Phoenix Style has defeated champions! It is too dangerous for full contact sparring! If I had used my true power, your organs would have ruptured!"
"If you used your true power, you'd pull a hamstring," Moon shot back and turned toward the door. "Keep the incense burning, Rorick. Might hide the smell of the bullshit you're selling."
He walked out of the Iron Crane Gym and the bell chimed pathetically behind him.
The cold night air hit his face and washed away his frustration.
It was a stupid idea anyway. Real combat couldn't be learned in a strip mall dojo from a con artist. It had to be forged in blood.
He pulled up the Universal Market interface on his comm-pad as he walked.
If he couldn't buy skills with Credits in the real world, he would just have to rely on his SSS Grade cheat to steal them from things that actually knew how to fight.
But he wasn't going into his next trial barehanded.
He navigated the system market and scrolled past the overpriced magical artifacts. He filtered the search to standard non magical system weapons.
[Item: Iron Baton (System Crafted)]
[Durability: High]
[Price: 15,000 Credits]
It was a sleek and perfectly balanced rod of dense black iron. It wasn't flashy but it was practically indestructible. It would channel his 1.8 Strength perfectly.
He hit purchase.
The credits vanished from his bank account and a heavy cold weight materialized in his inventory space.
Moon grinned and pulled the hood of his jacket up. He didn't need a fraudulent master. He had Limitless Plunder. All he needed now was a steady supply of targets to rob blind.