The underworld slums had always been a place of chaos. But tonight, the air was different—thicker, more dangerous. Mikhael stood in the middle of the broken street, the moon casting a blood-red glow over the shattered rooftops and narrow alleys. He could feel the tension, the rising power struggles of the gangs, the undercurrent of violence that had become second nature here. The slums were on the brink of an upheaval, and Mikhael needed to be ready.
The fight with Galgos had been a turning point. Absorbing the demon's essence had not only leveled him up but also given Mikhael a sharp boost in confidence. He could feel the power surging through his body, his muscles stronger, his mind clearer. But he knew better than to let that confidence turn into arrogance. There was always a bigger predator waiting to strike in the shadows.
Mikhael glanced at his system interface, quickly allocating his recently earned stat points from his level up. His fingers moved over the virtual display in his mind, refining his stats for the challenges ahead.
---
[System Interface]
Name: Mikhael
Race: Demon
Level: 2
Experience: 0/200
Stats
Strength: 20
Durability: 19
Agility: 18
Intelligence: 13
Dexterity: 13
Wisdom: 12
---
Satisfied, he closed the interface. His body felt stronger, more in tune with the environment. He moved through the streets with renewed purpose, his steps silent, blending into the darkened world around him.
His mind drifted to his Pause ability—his sanctuary, his place for training and thought. If things went wrong, he could always retreat into that space, slow down time, and plan his next move. It was his trump card. But tonight, he needed more than that. He needed to start understanding the deeper workings of his abilities—and the avatars he could create.
Mikhael moved swiftly toward the edge of the slums, where the gangs were most active. He had been careful to avoid the stronger groups so far, choosing instead to test his powers in controlled situations. But he couldn't stay hidden forever. If he wanted to survive and rise, he needed to test his abilities against more dangerous enemies. And there was no better place than where the power struggles were at their peak.
---
Hours Later, Outside the Gang Territory
The ganglands were crawling with low-level thugs, demons looking to prove themselves in brutal skirmishes. Mikhael kept to the shadows, his Shadow Step allowing him to blend into the darkness. His eyes scanned the territory, taking note of the clusters of demons guarding the entrances to the gang hideouts. He could feel the tension in the air, the sense that something big was about to happen.
It was the perfect time to strike. Not to fight head-on—he wasn't reckless—but to infiltrate. To plant his avatars, start building his influence from the inside.
A group of thugs patrolled near the edge of the territory. They were bickering, clearly annoyed with their current position, their attention divided. Mikhael smirked. This would be the ideal moment to test his avatars and his Cloning ability again.
---
Cloning: Avatar Creation
Mikhael stepped deeper into the shadows, calling on the familiar power of Cloning. The air shimmered around him, and he felt the energy tug at his body. This time, he needed something more than just a duplicate. He needed another avatar, another identity that could move freely in the ganglands.
The Clone appeared before him, its form identical to Mikhael's but lifeless, awaiting its transformation. Mikhael focused, drawing on Envy's shapeshifting abilities to mold the clone into something more suitable for infiltration.
The clone's appearance shifted, its form elongating, its features hardening. It now looked older, taller, more imposing—a figure that could blend into the rough world of the slum gangs. His face was sharp, his hair slicked back in a careless style, and his eyes carried a glint of mischief.
The new avatar smirked as it fully took on its new identity. Mikhael dubbed him Vince Moray, an alias perfect for working his way through the slum's underbelly.
"Vince" stepped forward, rolling his shoulders as if adjusting to the body. "So, what's the plan, boss?" he asked, his voice slightly different from Mikhael's—gruffer, more seasoned.
Mikhael glanced at the patrolling gang members in the distance. "You'll infiltrate. Earn their trust, get in deep. Learn everything you can."
Vince nodded, his smirk widening. "Leave it to me."
The avatar moved toward the gang territory without hesitation, adopting the swagger of someone who belonged there. Mikhael watched him go, feeling the thrill of control. The avatars weren't just clones—they were extensions of himself, tools he could use to expand his influence.
As Vince approached the gang's patrol, he greeted them with a casual wave, slipping effortlessly into conversation. Within minutes, the tension eased, and the demons accepted him as one of their own. Mikhael smirked from his hidden vantage point. His avatar had been successful. Now, it was just a matter of time before Vince worked his way deeper into the gang's ranks.
---
Later that Night
Mikhael moved to a safer area, a quiet corner of the slums where he could observe and plan in peace. Vince would be gathering information, learning about the gang from the inside, and eventually, when the time was right, he'd be in a position to manipulate or dismantle it from within.
But Mikhael wasn't idle. He needed to push his own limits, to explore the potential of his other abilities. The fight with Galgos had shown him the raw power of his Gluttony ability, but there was more to discover.
As the night deepened, Mikhael sat down and focused, tapping into his Pause ability. The world around him slowed to a crawl, the sounds of the slums dimming into nothing. He was in his separate space now, where time moved 100 times slower than in the real world. He had hours here to train, but only minutes would pass outside.
He stood in the center of the space, the weight of his decisions pressing on him. He had five basic skills at his disposal, along with the core powers tied to the sins. But there was more room to grow, more power to unlock.
Dash and Charge—two combat-enhancing skills—could be honed here. Mikhael needed speed, agility, and raw power if he wanted to face the greater threats looming in the slums.
He activated Dash, feeling the sudden burst of speed surge through him as his agility increased by 50%. The world blurred around him as he sprinted across the space, his feet barely touching the ground as he moved faster than ever before. He zigzagged through the shadows, his mind racing to keep up with his body's rapid movements. Five seconds later, the boost faded, and his pace slowed to normal.
"Five seconds isn't enough," Mikhael muttered to himself. "But it's a start."
Next, he activated Charge. He could feel the buildup of energy within him, the slow, steady increase in power as his damage output grew by 10% every five seconds. He practiced striking at imaginary targets, each punch and kick feeling stronger, more devastating as the seconds ticked by. The longer he fought, the more dangerous he would become.
By the time he deactivated the Pause ability, only a few minutes had passed in the real world, but Mikhael had trained for what felt like hours. His skills were sharper, his movements more precise. He was ready for whatever the slums threw at him next.
---
The Next Morning
Mikhael awoke to the sound of footsteps approaching his shelter. His senses were already heightened, and he quickly sat up, ready to fight if necessary. But the figure who appeared at the entrance was familiar—Jin Sparrow, the avatar of Greed, had returned.
Jin smirked, his coat flaring slightly as he leaned against the wall. "Got some news for you, boss," he said, his voice casual. "Things are heating up in the slums. Gangs are preparing for something big."
Mikhael stood, narrowing his eyes. "What kind of 'something big'?"
Jin shrugged. "Don't have all the details yet, but I've heard whispers. Some of the larger factions are preparing for a power grab. It's only a matter of time before everything falls apart."
Mikhael's mind raced. The slums were on the verge of chaos, and chaos was exactly what he needed to rise. But he couldn't move too quickly. He had to let the avatars do their work, gather more information, and only then would he make his move.
"Keep your ears open," Mikhael instructed. "We'll make our move when the time is right."
Jin gave a lazy salute. "You got it."
As Jin disappeared into the shadows once more, Mikhael felt the weight of the coming days pressing on him. He had power now, more than he'd ever had before. But power wasn't enough. He needed influence, control. The gacame, he would strike like a shadow from the depths, unseen but devastating.
---
Mikhael stood in the cool, dim light of the slums, the scent of sulfur and decay heavy in the air. He had always been a quiet observer, but the time for watching was nearly over. The gears of chaos were turning, and he needed to be ready to act. The slums were nothing more than a battlefield, and he was slowly positioning his pieces.
With Jin Sparrow infiltrating the outskirts, and Vince Moray working his way through the ranks of the gang, Mikhael had already started weaving his influence into the underworld. But that was only the beginning. He had two avatars now, each with a distinct personality and role, each acting independently to build his power behind the scenes. But there was more potential to exploit—more identities to craft, more organizations to control.
He needed to train. He needed to build.
---
Inside the Training Space (Pause)
The separate time-space that Pause granted him was an invaluable tool. Here, Mikhaelcame, he would strike like a shadow from the depths, unseen but devastating.
---
Mikhael stood in the cool, dim light of the slums, the scent of sulfur and decay heavy in the air. He had always been a quiet observer, but the time for watching was nearly over. The gears of chaos were turning, and he needed to be ready to act. The slums were nothing more than a battlefield, and he was slowly positioning his pieces.
With Jin Sparrow infiltrating the outskirts, and Vince Moray working his way through the ranks of the gang, Mikhael had already started weaving his influence into the underworld. But that was only the beginning. He had two avatars now, each with a distinct personality and role, each acting independently to build his power behind the scenes. But there was more potential to exploit—more identities to craft, more organizations to control.
He needed to train. He needed to build.
---
Inside the Training Space (Pause)
The separate time-space that Pause granted him was an invaluable tool. Here, Mikhael could stretch days into hours, sharpening his skills, preparing for the battles ahead. Tonight, however, he focused on something different: the potential of Amplifying.
He had already tested it with his body—enhancing his strength, agility, and endurance. But there was so much more to unlock. Amplify was one of the most powerful abilities at his disposal. If he could master it, it would allow him to increase the quality of objects or powers by 2 to 4 times, and the quantity of things by 5 to 10 times. But he had to practice, understand its limitations, and expand its use beyond simple combat.
Mikhael found a rusted knife lying in the slum ruins. He gripped the handle and activated Amplify. The familiar energy coursed through him as he channeled it into the blade.
The knife shimmered, its rust flaking away as it sharpened and gleamed under the dim light of the training space. The blade became stronger, keener, its cutting edge doubling in quality. Mikhael sliced through a stone block nearby, watching as the enhanced knife cut cleanly through it with ease. Amplify worked, but it drained him. The higher the amplification, the more energy it required.
"I'll need more stamina for this," Mikhael muttered to himself, setting the knife aside.
His abilities weren't just limited to fighting. With Amplify, he could fortify weapons, improve the strength of his avatars, or even increase his own skills. But he had to be strategic, use it when the timing was perfect. It was a tool of precision, not something to be wasted in every skirmish.
---
Outside the Training Space
Mikhael returned to the real world, stepping back into the gritty, harsh reality of the slums. The minutes that had passed here felt like days to him, and in that time, he had honed his abilities further. His heart raced, excitement brimming at the possibilities that lay ahead. The gangs wouldn't see him coming—not until it was too late.
As he walked through the twisted, narrow alleyways, he felt the familiar pulse of a connection—a mental tether that linked him to his avatars. Vince had gathered something useful, and Mikhael could feel the pull of information at the edge of his mind. He focused on it, tapping into the link to gain a clearer picture of what was happening.
---
Vince's Perspective
Vince stood casually in the middle of a dimly lit tavern, the scent of alcohol and sweat thick in the air. He had been embedded in the gang for only a short time, but his fast-talking charm and quick thinking had already earned him the trust of some key players. They were reckless, too confident in their positions of power.
"Things are moving fast," one of the gang members muttered, sipping from a mug of what passed for ale in this part of the slums. "Boss wants to make a play for the territory west of here. Word is the smaller factions are ripe for the taking. Weak and scared."
Another demon, a large brute with jagged horns, grunted. "Tch. Doesn't matter. When the raid happens, we'll take what we want. The boss has plans—big ones."
Vince smiled, leaning back in his chair. "Big plans, huh? Care to elaborate?"
The brute snorted, too drunk to realize Vince was probing. "We'll hit the smaller gangs, crush 'em fast. Boss thinks we can take over the whole damn slums if we hit hard enough."
Vince's mind raced. This was exactly what Mikhael needed to know.
---
Back to Mikhael
Mikhael withdrew from the mental link, a small grin tugging at the corners of his lips. The gang Vince had infiltrated was preparing to attack the surrounding territories, starting with the smaller, weaker factions. This was perfect. If he played his cards right, he could use the chaos to drain, manipulate, and amplify his own power through the destruction the gangs would cause.
"Let them fight each other," Mikhael whispered to himself. "I'll pick up the pieces."
The gang's raid would create a vacuum of power, one that Mikhael could exploit. As the larger factions wiped out the smaller ones, Mikhael could step in, either through his avatars or directly, and seize control over whatever remained. The gangs wouldn't even know he was the one pulling the strings.
---
The Strategy Takes Shape
Mikhael returned to his shelter, deep in thought. The slums were a delicate web of power, and he was slowly, carefully, weaving himself into it. But there was no need to rush. His avatars, Vince and Jin, were already embedded in key positions, gathering information, and laying the groundwork for his eventual rise.
He would use the gang's raid to further his goals. When the dust settled, when the factions were weakened and scrambling for control, Mikhael would step in. He would amplify his power, draining the essence of defeated enemies with Gluttony, while using Envy to manipulate survivors to bend to his will.
But more importantly, he would create new avatars, expanding his influence into new factions, new territories. Each avatar would have a role, a carefully crafted identity that Mikhael could use to gather resources, build alliances, and take control—without anyone ever realizing that all roads led back to him.
---
Later That Night
The slums were quiet, the air thick with the promise of violence to come. Mikhael stood atop a crumbling building, looking out over the ganglands with a cold, calculating gaze. His time was coming, and he was more than ready.
Jin and Vince were out there, doing their part. Soon, he would make more avatars—each one playing its own role in the game of survival and dominance.
The slums were just the beginning.
And when the gangs fell, the underworld would kneel before him.