The market square was silent.
The chaos from earlier had vanished, leaving only a bloodstained ground and the acrid scent of gunpowder lingering in the air.
The merchant who had fired the shot was long gone, along with the crowd that had scattered in terror.
And now, the guards had arrived.
Clad in tarnished metal armor, they surveyed the scene with dull, uninterested eyes.
The slums were full of violence — one more corpse in the street wasn't worth more than a few minutes of their time.
One of the guards, a burly man with a crooked nose, knelt beside the stain of blood. "Poor bastard," he muttered. "Looks like a street rat tried to steal from the wrong man."
Another guard scoffed, shifting his spear lazily from one hand to the other. "Like it matters. Just means one less mouth to feed."
The first guard stood, wiping his hands on his pants. He looked down the alley, eyes narrowing slightly before shaking his head. "No body, though. Must've bled out and got dragged off."
"Probably another rat looking for scraps."
That was enough for them. They had better things to do than investigate the death of a nameless orphan.
With that, the guards turned and walked away, their boots clanking against the cobblestones as they disappeared back into the city.
Alexian collapsed against the cold brick wall of an abandoned alleyway, his breathing heavy, his mind spinning.
He had died.
He was sure of it. He had felt the bullet tear through his side, had felt the cold embrace of death creeping in.
The pain had been unbearable, his vision fading to black.
Yet, here he was.
Alive.
And more than that — something was changing within him.
A glowing screen hovered before his eyes, its golden light illuminating the dark alley.
[System Initialization Complete]
His body trembled, not in pain, but in something else — something foreign, something powerful.
A warm sensation spread through his limbs, like fire coursing through his veins, burning away the weakness that had clung to him since the moment he had woken in this body.
His bones no longer ached.
The relentless hunger that had gnawed at his insides was gone.
His breathing steadied, deeper, fuller. He felt his ribs, expecting to feel the familiar sharp ridges of starvation, but instead… his body had filled out.
His skin no longer clung to bone, his once brittle limbs now held strength.
[Bloodline Purification Complete]
[All Impurities Removed]
Alexian stared at his hands.
They were the same hands he had always known — scarred from the hardships of life in the slums — but now, they felt different.
Stronger. More stable. As if his very existence had been refined.
He clenched his fingers into a fist.
He had come to this world in a frail, broken body. A body that would never have survived. But now…
Now, he had been reborn.
A deep breath filled his lungs, the cool evening air no longer tainted with the scent of decay. He pushed himself up, his movements fluid, controlled.
The weakness that had burdened him since the moment he had arrived in this world was gone.
For the first time since awakening in this new life, he didn't feel like a dying beggar struggling to stay alive.
He felt capable.
He felt alive.
The slums stretched before him, a maze of broken buildings and filth-covered streets.
Alexian pulled his ragged cloak tighter around himself, keeping to the shadows as he moved. He wasn't sure if anyone had seen him escape, but it didn't matter.
He couldn't risk being found right now.
The bloodstain in the marketplace would raise questions, but with no body left behind, it wouldn't be long before people simply forgot.
That was how it worked in the slums.
People disappeared all the time.
It wasn't worth questioning.
Alexian exhaled, leaning against a crumbling wall.
The night was growing colder, but for the first time in days, he didn't shiver from it. His body was adjusting, adapting to it.
Even the rough cobblestones beneath his feet didn't bite into his bare skin like they once had.
He needed to think.
The Bloodline System.
It had awakened the moment he was on the verge of death. It had taken his human bloodline and purified it, removing all impurities.
What did that mean?
He had heard of bloodlines before. The nobles, the warriors, the monsters — they all had something running through their veins that gave them power beyond normal men.
But humans?
Humans were weak.
So why had the system not given him something new? Why had it chosen to refine what he already had instead of replacing it?
He frowned, staring at the glowing text still lingering before him.
[Bloodline: Human (Primed)]
"Primed?" he muttered under his breath. "What the hell does that mean?"
No answer came. The system remained silent, offering no explanation.
Alexian sighed. He wasn't going to get answers sitting here.
The only thing that mattered now was survival.
He had been given a second chance — no, a third chance, if he counted his previous life. If he wasted it, he wouldn't get another.
This world didn't care about the weak.
And for the first time, Alexian no longer felt weak.
He had a future. A possibility.
But first, he needed to figure out just what he had become.
And more importantly — how to use it.
With one final glance toward the empty street, he stepped deeper into the shadows.
Tonight, the world had tried to kill him.
But Alexian Veynor was not so easily erased.
He had survived.
And soon, they would all know his name.