Dio found that his transmigration gave him the ability to download the passive skills of anyone. However, not anyone has passive skills. They're so rare that he only encountered two in two weeks in the slum. His ability told him instinctively that they have Tier 9 passive skills. Those with passive skills have a red aura only he can see. He also can't know what the effect of passive skills is in advance.
Dio's eyes lingered on the faint glow surrounding two figures who prowled the slum-like predators among prey. Passive skills—like in RPG games, they are always in effect. These skills might be his ticket out of the gutter, a chance to survive in this brutal world.
Unfortunately, he doesn't know how the downloading ability works. He tries everything but there's no system to guide him or to show his status. It's frustrating that he needs to explore everything on his own.
...
Dio crouched behind a dilapidated shack, his eyes glued to the gangster with the red aura. The man was pacing near a gambling den, barking orders at lackeys. Dio clenched his fists, focusing hard, trying to do something to happen.
Nothing.
The following days were trial and error. He shadowed the gangster carefully, experimenting with distance. Ten meters? Nothing. Five meters? Still nothing. The closer he got, the more Dio felt a strange pull in his chest, like a thread tugging at his very core.
Finally, on the fifth day, Dio dared to get within three meters. A flood of exhaustion hit him like a hammer, almost knocking him off his feet.
There it is!
His vision blurred for a moment, and when it cleared, a glowing icon hovered in his mind: [Downloading Skill – Progress 1%].
It takes energy, Dio realized, wiping the sweat from his brow. Physical stamina fuels the download. The closer I am, the faster it works. The question is, how long can I keep it up?
...
The gangster, a wiry man with a scar slicing through one eyebrow, was surrounded by lackeys most of the time. Dio knew he needed a reason to get close without arousing suspicion.
His opportunity came when he overheard the man shouting about a delivery gone missing.
"Those brats think they can steal from me? I'll break their hands!"
Dio slipped into the shadows, intercepting the group of street kids carrying the stolen goods.
"You're all going to get yourselves killed," he hissed, blocking their path. "Give it to me."
One of the boys sneered. "Why would we trust you?"
"Because I'm not dumb enough to sell it here. I'll get you a cut. You get to keep your hands."
It wasn't hard convincing desperate kids. Dio carried the sack of contraband to the gangster himself, sweat dripping down his back.
"I heard you were looking for this," Dio said, keeping his head low.
Scar-eyebrow snorted. "And who are you?"
"Just someone trying to earn some coin. Maybe you need a runner?"
The gangster's interest was piqued. "We'll see. Stick around."
Dio stayed close, all the while focusing on the glowing aura. The skill download crept up to 12%, then 30%, then 70% as he carried out small errands, always careful not to overstay his welcome.
...
The second red aura belonged to a reclusive man who operated on the edges of the slum's black market. Dio watched him from afar, noting his patterns. The man rarely left his hideout, a dilapidated building guarded by booby traps and snarling dogs.
Dio needed bait.
He spread rumors about a stash of valuable trinkets hidden near the slum's outskirts, waiting to be claimed. Predictably, the criminal couldn't resist investigating.
Dio set up near the false stash, climbing into the rafters of a crumbling structure. When the man arrived, Dio stayed silent, watching as he rummaged through the fake hiding spot.
Carefully, Dio lowered himself into range, clinging to the beams. He felt the same energy drain hit him, but he gritted his teeth and held on. The progress bar ticked upward.
It took three separate ambushes to fully download the skill without alerting the criminal. By the time it was done, Dio's body was wracked with exhaustion.
...
A week later, after the successful download of two passive skills. The collector arrived as promised, his arrival marked by a hush falling over the slum. Dio watched from a concealed position, studying the man who held the lives of so many in his grasp.
The collector was no ordinary thug. His posture was too controlled, his movements too precise. Dio noticed a finely crafted dagger on his belt and a small notebook he kept glancing at.
Over the course of two days, Dio followed the collector discreetly, noting his routines. The man kept to himself, but Dio discovered something curious: the collector visited a small shrine every evening, lighting incense and muttering prayers.
This was his chance.
Dio approached the shrine under cover of darkness, timing his arrival just as the collector was finishing his ritual.
"Please," Dio said, keeping his voice low and respectful. "I need to speak with you."
The collector's hand went to his dagger instantly. "You've got some nerve."
"I know," Dio said quickly. "But I have information you'll want. About your… clients."
The man hesitated, curiosity flickering in his eyes. Dio took a risk and stepped closer, bowing his head.
"Some of them are planning to flee," Dio lied smoothly. "They think they can avoid payment."
The collector's expression darkened.
"I'm not asking for much," Dio added. "Just a little more time to gather what I owe. You get your money, and I keep my skin."
After a tense pause, the collector nodded. "You have one week. Don't waste it."
Dio exhaled, his mind already active. Now I just need to figure out how to make that week count.