The aroma reminded Vincent of the bitter medicines his mother used to force on him and his siblings whenever a cold struck the household. As the steam rose from his stomach, he felt the pain dissipate almost instantly. A subtle shift in his insides followed, and just like that, the damage he'd sustained was gone.
Vincent rose to his feet, taking a moment to assess the bizarre transformation. He felt whole, unscathed, and for a fleeting second, he wasn't sure whether he should be grateful or vengeful. Actually, it was probably both.
The woman before him broke the silence with an apology. "I'm sorry for the attack. I mistook you for a monster," she said, her voice calm but direct. She stretched her neck, rolling her shoulders. "If you wish to retaliate, I won't stop you."
Vincent blinked. Well, that was unexpected. Though, as his mind turned over the idea, he couldn't help but note she hadn't specified what form this "retaliation" should take. The thought flitted through his mind—perhaps he could make her pay for the earlier assault—but he dismissed it. Not because she was a woman, but because her powers intrigued him. If she hadn't displayed such abilities, he wouldn't have hesitated to knock her out with a blunt object.
"I was raised in a household where such behavior wasn't tolerated," Vincent said finally, brushing himself off. He added with a mock bow, "So, I must respectfully decline. After all, I am a gentleman."
That was a blatant lie, of course. Growing up with an aggressive sister had meant frequent fights—punching, biting, and every other juvenile form of warfare. Still, there was no need to confess to such a turbulent past. Instead, Vincent pressed on, "But I will request something else."
The woman raised an eyebrow. "That sounds like a lie, but fine. What do you want?"
Vincent clicked his tongue. How could she tell? He shook it off and responded, "Everything. But for starters, those powers. How do I get them? And why are you so strong?"
She considered him, tilting her head slightly. "Uh… why don't you just check your system? You don't have a class activated yet, so you won't have access to skills."
Vincent froze. What did she just say?
"System?" he asked, his tone uncertain. He wasn't clueless—he'd read enough novels to guess what she meant. But he didn't want to jump to conclusions just yet.
"The system is a set of tools designed to help you grow stronger and interact with the world in its current state."
That sounded almost too good to be true. He swiped at the air in front of him. "System," he said firmly.
Nothing happened.
"Damn liar," he muttered, glaring at her. She seemed just as confused. "Say the full name," she prompted. "Anti-monster Tools Framework Interface."
Vincent blinked. That was a mouthful. At least it left no room for ambiguity. He took a deep breath and said, "Open Anti-monster Tools Framework Interface."
Still, nothing happened.
"Huh? You did have that weird darkness thing earlier…" Her voice trailed off as realization seemed to dawn on her.
Damn it. Was he… systemless? The thought struck him like a thunderclap. Losing access to something so integral would have been enough to make him lose his appetite—assuming he wasn't exaggerating, which, for once, he wasn't. Frustration boiled over. "Give me a damn system!" he shouted.
Suddenly, the air around him shifted. Heat vanished, replaced by a chilling darkness. Vincent tensed as an unfamiliar sensation crept over him. Before him, two options appeared, each a shimmering thread of light: one red, pulsating and monstrous, the other a calm and inviting blue. Both seemed to beckon him like spiderwebs latching onto his soul.
Without hesitation, Vincent chose the blue light.
The thread shot toward him, and for a moment, the world spun. Heat and light returned as quickly as they had vanished. Vincent stood in stunned silence.
"What was that?" he murmured.
The woman was watching him intently. "So?"
"Right." Vincent brushed off his confusion and tried again. "System."
This time, the darkness enveloped him but reshaped itself into glowing circles hovering in his vision. The interface glitched at first, as if rejecting him, before stabilizing into clear blue symbols. Each circle bore a label: Classes, Inventory, Equipment, Forms, Skills, Map, Stats, and more. Many options, however, were grayed out, inaccessible.
When Vincent tried tapping on a grayed-out option, a message appeared:
These options are not available to you yet. You need to pass the Trial of Hunters first.
Figures. He dismissed the interface with a sigh and turned to the woman. "It's working now."
Her brow furrowed. "Were you pronouncing it wrong earlier? The system translator made it seem like you were saying the right words."
"No idea." Vincent shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "That darkness thing? Just a one-use item I picked up." He had no intention of revealing more.
"Anyway," he said, changing the subject, "how did you get here? A mysterious caller?"
"Huh? No. Like everyone else, I got a system message saying we were being summoned as potential hunters. A flash of blue light, and here I was," she explained.
That was wildly different from Vincent's experience. "Did it say anything about being a champion?" he pressed.
She shook her head. "Why do you ask? Did something different happen to you?"
Vincent hesitated. The strange caller who had brought him here lingered in his thoughts. He opened his mouth to explain but stopped as the familiar darkness surged within him, stronger than ever. It coiled around his throat and heart, a tangible threat. He clenched his fists.
"No," he said finally. "It was just random."
She didn't seem convinced, stepping closer. "You don't expect me to believe that, do you?"
Vincent instinctively stepped back but caught himself. No. He wasn't going to shrink away this time. His life had been a string of compromises, each one a step closer to submission. But now? He tightened his fists and stood firm.
"And what if you don't believe me?" he challenged.
The woman stopped, her piercing gaze locking onto his. For a moment, the air between them was charged. Then, darkness swept over Vincent again, and when it dissipated, he was clad in gleaming metal armor. A knight's insignia gleamed faintly on the breastplate.
She raised an eyebrow. "Your system is… different."
Vincent said nothing, silently grateful she didn't press further. The armor felt solid, protective, but he couldn't shake the feeling he was in over his head.
"We've wasted enough time here," she said finally, turning toward the horizon. "We need to head for the trial area. Now."
Vincent frowned. "We?!"