Raynor sat cross-legged on his bed, staring at the dim glow of the System interface before him. The Academy dormitory was quiet, the muffled sounds of students settling in for the night barely reaching his ears.
[System Store]
Available Balance: 2,300 Survival Points
His eyes scanned the list of purchasable skills. Most were either too expensive or too specific to be immediately useful. But one skill caught his attention.
[Survival Instinct (Rank I)] – 1,800 SP
Enhances the user's subconscious danger perception, improving reaction speed and evasive maneuvers when facing unexpected threats.
Raynor's grip tightened. He had relied on his own instincts to stay alive, but those instincts belonged to Raynor Velcroft, not Eren Harlow. They were flawed. Incomplete.
He tapped the purchase button.
[Skill Acquired: Survival Instinct (Rank I)]
A true survivor does not hesitate. Trust your instincts.
A sharp sensation shot through his mind—like a jolt of clarity, as if something long-dormant had awakened inside him. His breathing slowed, senses sharpening slightly. The air felt different. More… alive.
Raynor flexed his fingers. This is useful.
He closed the interface, but before he could fully relax, his new instincts flared. Something was off.
His muscles tensed, and without thinking, he rolled off the bed—just as a faint creak sounded from his door.
A split second later, the door eased open, a shadow slipping inside.
Raynor stayed still, his heart hammering. Who the hell—?
The figure took a step forward, but Raynor was already moving. He lunged, gripping the intruder's wrist and twisting. The figure barely had time to react before he shoved them back against the wall, pinning them.
"Who sent you?" Raynor growled, his grip tightening.
The dim moonlight revealed a familiar face—Lira Ashford.
Raynor blinked. "What the hell are you doing in my room?"
Lira, surprisingly unfazed, raised a brow. "Nice reflexes."
Raynor exhaled sharply, releasing her. "You have ten seconds to explain before I throw you out."
She smirked. "Relax, Velcroft. I wanted to test something."
He crossed his arms. "Breaking into my room is your idea of a test?"
Lira shrugged. "I was curious. After our sparring match, I had a feeling you weren't showing everything you could do. Guess I was right."
Raynor clenched his jaw. He hated how sharp some of these people were.
She studied him for a moment. "Your instincts are different. Quicker."
Raynor forced his expression to remain neutral. "You have a habit of breaking into people's rooms just to test them?"
"Only when they're interesting."
He sighed, rubbing his temple. "If you're done playing games, leave."
Lira smirked but didn't push further. "Fine. But next time, let's make it a real challenge."
With that, she slipped out the door, leaving Raynor with more questions than answers.
His gaze flickered to his hand—the same one that had reacted before his mind even processed the threat.
Survival Instinct.
Maybe this skill was even better than he thought.