The world was eerily quiet as Ren walked, his boots crunching against the unfamiliar terrain. He had no idea where he was headed, but after the chaos of earlier, all he wanted was to find a place where he could stop and think. His mind was still reeling from what had happened—the screen, the fight, the cold system voice. He had killed a man and gained power from it. Was this really the way things worked now?
After about ten minutes, Ren's eyes caught sight of a dark opening up ahead—a cave nestled into the side of a small hill. He sighed in relief. A shelter, finally. He approached it cautiously, peering inside to make sure it wasn't already occupied. The cave was empty. It wasn't much, but it would be enough for the night.
Ren stepped inside, his footsteps echoing against the stone walls. It was cold, but the cave was large enough to give him a little space to work with. It wasn't the prison cell he had been used to, but at least here he wasn't surrounded by bars. No guards, no prisoners. Just me.
The first thing he needed to do was get rid of the handcuffs. They were digging into his wrists, and they were useless to him now. He took a deep breath and stood still for a moment. He hadn't fully understood the ability he had chosen—Adrenaline—but now was as good a time as any to find out what it could do.
"Adrenaline. Level one. Activate," he said, feeling a little foolish talking to thin air.
Immediately, a strange sensation coursed through his body. It was like fire and ice running through his veins all at once, an electric pulse that made his muscles tense and his heart pound faster. His vision sharpened, and he felt an overwhelming surge of power. It wasn't just adrenaline like he'd experienced in a fight—it was something more, something deeper.
Ren opened his system screen and saw that he had a few unspent stat points. He quickly allocated three of them into Strength, feeling the boost hit him like a hammer. His muscles tensed even more, and his body felt ready to tear through anything in his way.
With a deep breath, he pulled his wrists apart, straining against the metal cuffs with every ounce of strength he could muster. For a moment, it felt impossible—his wrists were bleeding, the cold steel biting into his skin—but Ren gritted his teeth and kept pulling.
Pop.
The cuffs snapped open, the broken metal clattering to the ground. Ren stared at his hands, breathing heavily as he flexed his sore wrists. Blood trickled down, but he wiped it off on his tattered clothes, shaking off the pain. Free. Finally.
He wasted no time. If he was going to survive here, he needed to be prepared. The sun was setting, and the cave would soon be swallowed by darkness. Ren glanced around outside, quickly spotting a few trees with low-hanging branches. He grabbed several sturdy branches and dragged them inside the cave. They weren't much, but they could be shaped into tools, maybe even weapons.
Ren knelt down, taking one of the thicker branches in his hands. His mind raced back to the survival documentaries he used to watch, imagining how people in the wild crafted spears or knives from simple materials. He grabbed a jagged rock from the cave floor and began chipping away at the end of the branch, carving it into a rough point. His hands stung from the effort, but it didn't matter. The night would be long, and he wasn't going to let himself be defenseless.
After a few minutes of steady work, Ren had a somewhat crude spear. It wasn't perfect, but it was sharp enough to do some damage. He tied the sharpened stone to the tip of the spear using vines he had found nearby, reinforcing it with strips of cloth torn from his shirt. It wasn't elegant, but it would do.
He stepped back and admired his work. The spear felt solid in his hands, the weight of it giving him a strange sense of reassurance. It wasn't much, but it was a start. He'd need this, and probably more, if this world turned out to be as dangerous as it seemed.
Ren sat down against the cave wall, the adrenaline finally beginning to wear off. His muscles ached, his wrists throbbed, and exhaustion was creeping in. But for the first time in what felt like ages, he allowed himself a small grin. He was free. He had a weapon. And despite everything, he felt... ready.