The walk home from the gym was long, the sky above Citico painted in the dark blues and purples of early nightfall. Aurel's body still hummed with energy, the effects of his latest training session coursing through him. Ten hours at the gym, pushing every limit—he could still feel the echoes of his exertion, the muscles that now felt solid and powerful, the flexibility in his movements. The Regeneration trait was working, and it was giving him an edge that others could only dream of.
He turned down the narrow street that led to his apartment, the streetlights flickering overhead. It was a quiet area, a little worn down, the buildings leaning against each other as if for support. Aurel made his way to the door of his unit, his hand already reaching into his pocket for his keys, his thoughts on his next step.
He was planning for his next trait. Sixth Sense—a trait that would give him a heightened awareness of his surroundings, a sensitivity to danger, to movement, to the subtle shifts in mana around him. It was rare, almost unheard of for someone at his level to have it, but he was determined. With the exams coming, he needed every advantage he could get. And if his body could adapt to poisons and injuries, then it could learn this as well.
But when Aurel pushed the door open, all thoughts of his next trait vanished.
His apartment was a mess. The sight of it stopped him dead in his tracks, his hand frozen on the doorknob. The small room that had been cluttered but organized was now a disaster. The couch had been overturned, the cushions ripped open, their stuffing spilling out onto the floor. The bookshelf was on its side, the books scattered, pages torn. His few dishes lay shattered, shards of glass and ceramic covering the kitchen floor.
Aurel's heart sank, his pulse thudding in his ears. Someone had ransacked his home. Every drawer had been pulled out, every cabinet opened, their contents dumped carelessly. It looked like a tornado had torn through the place, leaving destruction in its wake.
His gaze swept over the chaos, his fists clenching at his sides. And then he saw it—taped to the wall, a piece of paper, its edges fluttering slightly in the breeze from the open door.
Aurel stepped closer, his eyes narrowing as he read the words scrawled in bold, mocking letters:
"Much Love - Yujiro"
Aurel stared at the note, his breath coming in sharp, uneven bursts. Yujiro. The name burned in his mind, the memory of that red-haired bastard from the clinic flashing before his eyes. The way Yujiro had grabbed him, the way he had sneered, the threat in his eyes. And now this.
Aurel's vision blurred at the edges, his hands trembling with the force of his rage. He could feel his heart pounding, his body tensing, his muscles coiling like springs. Every instinct screamed at him to fight, to track Yujiro down and make him pay for this. But Aurel knew better. Yujiro wasn't just any thug. He was from the Lang family—one of the most powerful families in Citico, with influence that stretched far beyond the city.
Aurel took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down, forcing the rage back. He couldn't afford to lose control. Not now. Not yet. He was still just one person, still climbing, still trying to find his place in this world of mana and monsters. And Yujiro... Yujiro was already at the top, with power, resources, and the kind of backing that Aurel couldn't hope to challenge. Not yet.
He crumpled the note in his hand, his eyes narrowing, his jaw clenched tight. One day, he thought. One day, he would make Yujiro regret this. But for now, he had to be smart. He had to be patient. He couldn't let himself be dragged into a fight he couldn't win.
Aurel set the note aside, turning back to the mess of his apartment. He moved slowly, methodically, picking up the overturned furniture, gathering the books, sweeping up the broken dishes. It was a painstaking process, each piece of shattered glass a reminder of his helplessness, each torn page a symbol of how far he still had to go.
But as he worked, the anger cooled, replaced by something else. Determination. This wasn't the end. This was just another challenge, another obstacle to overcome. And if Yujiro thought he could break Aurel's spirit with this, then he was wrong. Dead wrong.
The apartment was finally back in order, the mess cleared, the space once again quiet and still. Aurel sank onto the couch, his body weary, but his mind racing. He couldn't let this derail him. He couldn't let Yujiro get inside his head. He had a plan, and he needed to stick to it.
Sixth Sense. He needed to be ready for anything. He needed to be aware, to see the danger coming before it was too late. The Sixth Sense trait would give him that edge—an instinctive awareness, a feeling for threats that would keep him one step ahead. But how could he acquire it?
The trait database had described it as a heightened perception, an attunement to one's surroundings that was almost supernatural. It was often awakened in situations of extreme danger—people who had survived life-or-death experiences, who had learned to sense the presence of monsters, of other cultivators, of threats in the environment.
Aurel leaned back, closing his eyes, his mind turning over the possibilities. He needed to put himself in a situation where his body would be forced to develop that kind of awareness—a situation where his senses would be pushed to their absolute limit, where danger was constant, and survival depended on his ability to react.
He opened his eyes, his gaze flicking to the small window of his apartment. The city stretched beyond, its lights twinkling in the dark, the buildings rising like shadows against the night sky. There were places in Citico where danger was a constant companion—places where mana beasts roamed, where the boundaries between the city and the dungeons blurred.
The Border District. It was a dangerous area, a place where the city's protective barriers were weakest, where monsters sometimes slipped through, prowling the alleys, feeding off the mana that leaked from the nearby dungeons. It was risky, but it was exactly what Aurel needed. A place where his senses would be on high alert, where he would have to be aware of every movement, every sound, every flicker of mana.
He stood, the plan forming in his mind, the pieces falling into place. He would go to the Border District. He would put himself in danger, force his body to adapt, to learn, to survive. And in doing so, he would awaken the Sixth Sense trait.
Aurel grabbed his jacket, slipping it over his shoulders, his eyes hardening with resolve. He was done being the victim. He was done letting people like Yujiro push him around. He was going to become stronger, to push his body to its absolute limit, to gain every trait, every power that he needed to rise to the top.
He was going to adapt.
And when the time came, he would be ready. Ready to face Yujiro, ready to face the exams, ready to face anything this world threw at him.
Aurel stepped out of his apartment, the door clicking shut behind him. The night was dark, the air cool against his skin, the city alive with the hum of distant traffic, the murmur of voices. He took a deep breath, his senses sharpening, his body ready.