Chapter 7, Part 1: A Lesson in Burning and Learning
You ever wake up feeling like you've been hit by a truck? No? Well, let me tell you—it's an experience. One I would not recommend.
I groaned as I blinked awake, every muscle in my body screaming in protest. It was as if my limbs had collectively decided, "Yeah, we're done working for you." My head spun, my body felt like an overcooked noodle, and honestly, if I were any weaker, I'd be mistaken for a corpse.
"Did you think the price of learning would be less?" Solace's voice echoed in my head, smug as ever. "And Fang's Link is the easiest one you could learn. That's why it was the first Link."
Oh, good. So stabbing myself and almost dying was easy. That was comforting.
"Yeah, sure, easy," I mumbled, voice hoarse. "Let me guess—next time, I just have to set myself on fire?"
"I mean, technically—" Asher started.
"Shut up," I cut him off.
I tried to move, but my body protested. My limbs felt like they were made of lead, and my head was doing its best impression of a spinning carnival ride.
"Horrible example," Riven muttered.
"I know," I groaned.
Fang, ever the supportive one, decided to kick me while I was down. "You did everything wrongly and without a proper approach. It wouldn't be a surprise if you were already dead."
"Great pep talk, thanks."
"Enough," Solace interrupted. "You used Recovery so inefficiently that a second more and you would've been dead."
I flopped onto my back, staring at the ceiling. "So noted. Will try to avoid stabbing myself to death next time."
Solace sighed. "Everything related to Compatibility requires energy. That includes you."
I exhaled. "So what should I do? Drain the city's energy again?"
"No," Solace snapped. "Doing it a second time would only confirm the suspicions of anyone who already suspects that someone is using Compatibility here."
Ah. Right. That would be bad.
I felt a familiar ache in my stomach—a double-edged hunger. One for food, one for energy.
"Your first priority should be food," Solace said. "Then, we figure out the energy situation."
"Fine, fine," I muttered. "I'll find a restaurant."
Getting Back on My Feet (Again)
It took an embarrassing amount of time to get up. My legs wobbled like I'd just run a marathon—backwards, uphill, while carrying a refrigerator.
I showered again, because waking up in a pool of my own dried blood was not the kind of morning routine I wanted. Then, I threw on some fresh clothes, ran my fingers through my messy hair, and stepped outside.
Once again, the stares followed.
I sighed dramatically and stretched. "I'm really not used to this level of attention," I said, loud enough for the bystanders to hear. "It's too much for me, really."
"Shameless," Riven muttered.
"Adapt or perish, my friend."
I made my way to the restaurant—yes, that restaurant. The one where I almost lost my mind from hunger. Ah, memories.
As I stepped in, I could feel eyes on me again. Whether it was paranoia or reality, I didn't care. I sat, ordered a ridiculous amount of food, and got to work on refueling my poor, abused body.
Bite after bite, I felt life return to me. The dull ache in my muscles eased, and my head felt less like a malfunctioning amusement park ride. I was starting to think, "Hey, maybe today won't be so bad."
Then I heard it.
The unmistakable wail of a fire truck.
Curiosity Killed the… Wait, That's Me
I turned my head, watching the fire truck speed past with sirens blaring. People murmured, watching it go, but I was already moving.
"Oh? Already running again?" Solace mused.
I smirked, pushing forward. "Gotta say, your little possession moment did leave some perks."
"You're welcome," Solace replied, oh so smugly.
"Mind explaining what's happening?" Asher chimed in.
I rolled my eyes. "What does a fire truck do?"
"Put out fires."
"And what is fire?"
There was a brief pause.
"Ah," Asher murmured. "I see."
I reached the scene quickly, and sure enough—there it was. A large supermarket, completely engulfed in flames.
Burning Questions
People stood at a safe distance, whispering about what happened. I caught bits of conversation—something about "arson," "an explosion," and "someone must've done this on purpose."
Interesting.
The fire raged, consuming everything in its path. It roared, alive and hungry. And me? I stood there, staring at it like a man eyeing a buffet.
Fire was energy.
Which meant I could eat it.
I took a deep breath and focused, reaching out with Compatibility.
At first, it worked. The flames near me flickered, dimming slightly as I pulled them in. But then—nothing.
The fire at a distance remained untouched.
I frowned. "Uh… guys?"
"Figure it out yourself," Solace said.
"Seriously?"
"You're the one who needs to learn."
I groaned. Fantastic. Trial by fire. Literally.
The Thread of Connection
I tried thinking my way through it, but no dice. Fire wasn't like electricity—it wasn't something I could just pull from anywhere. I needed a connection.
I stared at the burning wreckage, my mind racing. What did I have that could reach the flames?
And then, it hit me.
Sweat.
From running here, my body was covered in a fine sheen of it.
If I could extend that—make it into a thread—maybe…
I focused, guiding a thin, nearly invisible string of sweat outward. It extended slowly, weaving through the air. No one noticed—it was too small, too insignificant. But it was mine.
I felt it dry almost instantly, and the moment it did, I pulled.
The flames responded.
A slow, creeping sensation filled my body as the fire surged toward me, sucked along the makeshift conduit I had created.
It worked.
Holy hell, it worked.
I grinned, keeping my focus. The flames dimmed, one by one, until the fire was completely gone—absorbed, devoured, and now a part of me.
A New Kind of Hunger
As the last flickers died, the crowd erupted in confusion. The fire department, who had been ready to battle the inferno, stood frozen. The supermarket, though scorched, was still standing.
And me?
I wiped the sweat from my brow, exhaling.
"Well," I muttered, "that was definitely the weirdest meal I've ever had."
"You did well," Solace admitted.
"Not bad," Riven added.
Fang just scoffed. "I suppose there's some hope for you."
I grinned.
This whole Compatibility thing?
I was just getting started.
Chapter 7, Part 2: The Art of Making (Legal) Money Like a Supervillain
1. Solace Takes Over—Again
Not even five minutes had passed since I got home, and I was already feeling restless. I had fire absorption now, my energy reserves were somewhat stable, and I wasn't in immediate danger of collapsing from hunger.
So, logically, the next step was to figure out what to do next.
"Could any of you teach me more Links?" I asked.
The response was instantaneous.
"You don't have the capacity."
Solace's voice was cold, matter-of-fact. The others murmured their agreement.
"What does that even mean?"
"It means exactly what it sounds like. You don't have the mental or physical bandwidth to contain more Links. You barely survived learning Recovery. If we push more into you now, your entire existence will collapse like a badly structured house of cards."
I sighed. Should've known it wasn't going to be that easy.
Fine. If I couldn't brute-force my way to more power, I needed to set a foundation. And what better foundation than money?
"Alright, fine. I need money. I have to make money."
The moment those words left my mouth, Solace moved like a predator sensing blood in the water.
"It's time for me to take over again."
"Why is it always you?" Riven complained. "That's not fair. We all deserve a turn."
"Because I'm the only one competent enough to handle this," Solace replied without even looking at him.
Before I could argue, my body wasn't mine anymore.
2. Setting the Stage: Supermarket Hacking & Laptop Acquisition
Solace walked out without hesitation, his movements sharp and precise. Within minutes, we arrived at a supermarket—not for food, but for something far more valuable.
A laptop.
Solace's hands moved efficiently, browsing the aisles. He didn't go for anything flashy—just a decent laptop with good processing power and no unnecessary bloatware. The kind of machine that could run financial models without slowing down.
Arthur: "So, uh, why are we buying this instead of just stealing one?"
Solace: "Because an official purchase leaves a cleaner trail than a stolen device. If we do this right, we won't need to hide anything."
Logical. Annoyingly logical.
After the purchase, Solace casually strolled out of the store, but instead of leaving immediately, he stopped by the cash counter.
Arthur: "Uh… are we forgetting something?"
Solace: "No. We're acquiring… resources."
That was when I realized what he was doing.
With an absurd level of efficiency, Solace's eyes scanned the supermarket's digital checkout system—not to hack it, but to memorize the essential financial details of a random rich customer. A flicker of an ID, a glimpse of transaction history, and—just like that—we had access to a clean, untraceable identity.
Arthur: "That was horrifyingly fast."
Solace: "Efficiency is key."
3. Entering the Stock Market Like a Calculated Predator
Solace wasted no time. He found an empty parking lot, connected the laptop to a high-speed Wi-Fi hotspot, and set up a new brokerage account.
Arthur: "Wait, we're doing this from a parking lot? That feels… unprofessional."
Solace: "The market doesn't care where you are. Only how well you play the game."
Tab after tab opened—financial news, social media trends, live stock data.
The rest of the voices watched in a mix of fascination and pure confusion.
Asher: "I feel like I should understand this, but I don't."
Riven: "I don't get it either, but I'm just here for the chaos."
Fang: "Tch. Meaningless gambling."
Solace ignored them all. His fingers moved with machine-like precision as he made his first small deposit. Just enough to start.
Arthur: "So, what exactly is the plan here?"
Solace: "Simple. Observe market behavior. Manipulate human psychology. Profit."
Arthur: "That's… vague."
Solace: "That's strategy."
And then he got to work.
4. The Genius of Market Manipulation
At first, it seemed like he was just watching numbers move. But after ten minutes, something clicked.
Solace: "I have the trajectory."
Arthur: "You have the what now?"
Solace: "I can see what's going to skyrocket and what's going to crash. The patterns are obvious."
Arthur: "Oh, obviously."
But as I watched, I realized that Solace wasn't guessing. He was calculating.
He watched social media for influencer reactions that could impact stock prices.
He cross-referenced news for corporate scandals or insider trading signals.
He analyzed market movement patterns, predicting panic sells and hype buys before they even happened.
And then, the real game began.
5. The Money-Making Strategy Unfolds
Phase 1: Small Investments with Big Ripples
Solace started with micro-investments, just enough to influence price movements without being detected.
Arthur: "Wait… are you causing a butterfly effect?"
Solace: "More like setting up dominoes. One small push, and the market follows."
Phase 2: Leverage & Options Trading
Then came the real risk—high-leverage trades.
Arthur: "Isn't this basically gambling?"
Solace: "No. It's gambling if you don't understand the game. I do."
With options trading, Solace placed calculated bets on stocks rising or falling.
Phase 3: Shorting the Failing Giant
That's when he found it—a corporation on the verge of collapse.
Arthur: "Wait. Are we… betting on a company dying?"
Solace: "Yes."
Arthur: "Wow. That's dark."
With a massive short position, Solace set it up so that when the stock crashed, we'd make an absurd amount of money.
6. The Crisis: A Market Counterattack
Just when everything was perfect, something changed.
Powerful investors noticed the manipulation. They started counteracting the trend, trying to trap Solace in a losing position.
Arthur: "Uh. Solace? I think they're fighting back."
Solace: "Good. Let them try."
What followed was a battle of financial wits, a high-speed chess match in the stock market.
They pushed prices up? Solace dumped shares to crash them harder.
They tried to reverse trends? Solace used psychological manipulation to trigger mass panic sales.
They attempted a coordinated buyout? Solace played them against each other.
Arthur: "We're gonna get assassinated by billionaires, aren't we?"
Solace: "Only if they figure out who we are."
And finally—after hours of battle—Solace pulled out at the perfect moment.
7. The Aftermath: Arthur is Now Filthy Rich
Arthur stared at the laptop screen. The account balance was no longer in thousands. It had millions.
Arthur: "So… we're actually rich now?"
Solace: "No, I'm rich. You're just the idiot who owns the account."
Arthur: "Semantics."
Solace, smug: "And that's how you play the market."
But deep down, Arthur knew—this was not gonna end well.