The rain poured over the crumbling alleyways of Shakuga District, washing the stench of blood into the gutters. Somewhere in the distance, an air-raid siren howled, but no one ran. No one cared. For the slums, death was as common as the sunrise.
Kael Renji leaned against a cold brick wall, his breath ragged, chest heaving. His left hand clutched a knife — a pathetic, rusted thing that had chipped halfway down the blade. His right arm hung uselessly, trembling from the weight of exhaustion.
His vision blurred, but the notification hanging in the corner of his eyes was painfully clear:
> [Warning: HP Critical — 3% Remaining]
[Level: 1]
[EXP: 0 / 100]
The red glow of the system’s text almost mocked him.
He spat onto the wet ground, tasting iron and dirt.
“Three years…” His voice was hoarse. “Three years… and I’m still stuck at Level One?”
The streets around him were silent except for the splashing of rainwater. A dead man lay at his feet — no, not a man. A scavenger beast. Its grey, furless body was twisted, ribs showing through thin skin, yellow eyes staring lifelessly at nothing. It was one of the weakest monsters in Shakuga. Killing one should have been easy. For anyone else.
For Kael, it had nearly killed him.
---
The World That Left Him Behind
The year was 392 After Collapse. A hundred years ago, a surge of unknown energy had ripped open countless Gates across the world, spilling monsters into reality. The only defense humanity found was The System — a mysterious force that granted skills, stats, and levels to chosen individuals called Awakened.
Kael was one of them. Or at least, he was supposed to be.
The System had blessed him at age 15… and given him nothing.
No special skill.
No combat stats.
No quest rewards.
Just the most humiliating title possible:
> [Title Acquired: The Weakest]
It wasn’t even a joke. For three years, Kael hadn’t leveled once. He hunted the lowest creatures and barely survived. His peers had already reached Levels 20, 30, even 50, taking high-paying jobs as Gate raiders.
Kael was a nobody, scraping by for scraps of meat in monster-infested slums.
---
The rain intensified, pattering against his skin. His knees threatened to give out, but he forced himself upright.
“Just one more day… I can survive one more day,” he muttered, gripping the scavenger’s corpse. Monster meat was barely edible, but if you cooked it long enough, it kept you alive.
A shadow fell over him.
---
The Humiliation
“Renji.”
The voice was deep and cold, cutting through the rain. Kael looked up to see three figures approaching from the mouth of the alley. They wore black armor laced with red, the symbol of the Bloodfang Clan carved into their breastplates. Each of them was at least Level 15 — he could tell just from the way they moved, the unnatural speed, the faint aura radiating from their bodies.
At their center stood Ryven, a tall man with slicked-back hair and the kind of smile that made you want to keep your distance.
Kael’s grip tightened on the knife. “…Ryven.”
Ryven’s eyes swept over him, the corpse, the knife — and then a smirk curved his lips.
“You’ve been busy,” he said. “Killing rats.”
Kael said nothing.
“You still haven’t leveled, have you?” Ryven asked, stepping closer. “Three years and you’re still a worthless Level One. You know… the Clan has a rule about weaklings hunting in their territory.”
“This isn’t Bloodfang territory,” Kael muttered.
Ryven’s boot hit him in the stomach before he even saw it coming. Pain shot through his body, and he crumpled against the wall, coughing. His vision flickered as the system updated:
> [HP: 1% Remaining]
“Everything in Shakuga is Bloodfang territory,” Ryven said, crouching down to Kael’s level. “Remember that.”
The two other men dragged the scavenger’s corpse away. Kael’s jaw clenched, but he stayed silent. Fighting now meant dying.
Ryven stood, brushing invisible dust from his gauntlet. “Be smart, Renji. People like you… don’t live long.”
And with that, they left, disappearing into the rain.
---
The Edge of Breaking
Kael remained on the ground for a long time after they were gone. The rain was freezing now, soaking through his threadbare jacket, but his mind was somewhere else — somewhere between rage and despair.
He’d had enough.
Enough of starving.
Enough of being humiliated.
Enough of being The Weakest.
His hand tightened into a fist, nails biting into his palm. “If the System won’t help me… I’ll break it. Or I’ll die trying.”
The words were barely a whisper, but they felt heavy in the air.
A distant sound reached his ears — faint footsteps, almost too light to notice. He turned his head sharply, scanning the shadows.
That’s when he saw her.
---
The Stranger
She stood at the end of the alley, a small figure in a white cloak, untouched by the rain. The hood shadowed her face, but strands of silver hair escaped, glinting faintly even in the darkness. She was holding something — a small, black crystal that pulsed with an unnatural light.
Kael’s eyes narrowed. “Who are you?”
She didn’t answer. Instead, she walked toward him, her steps unnaturally quiet. Every instinct in Kael screamed danger, but he couldn’t move — not from fear, but from the strange heat blooming in his chest. It was as if the air itself was vibrating.
When she reached him, she knelt down, meeting his eyes. Her voice was soft, almost musical.
“You want power, don’t you?”
The question hit him harder than Ryven’s kick. “What?”
“You hate being weak,” she said. “You’ve been crawling in the dirt, hoping for a miracle. I can give it to you.”
Kael’s throat tightened. “Who… are you?”
She smiled faintly — the kind of smile that promised nothing good. “Names aren’t important. What matters is the deal.”
She held out the black crystal. Up close, it was mesmerizing — swirling shadows trapped inside, like a storm in miniature.
> [Warning: Unknown Item Detected]
[Scanning… Unable to Identify]
The System couldn’t read it.
“This will rewrite your contract with the System,” she said. “You’ll gain the power to level faster than anyone alive.”
Kael’s pulse quickened. “What’s the catch?”
Her eyes — now visible under the hood — were the color of molten gold. “The catch,” she whispered, “is that it will kill you if you stop fighting.”
---
The Choice
The rain around them seemed to fade, replaced by the pounding of Kael’s heart. Everything in his head screamed trap, danger, don’t do it. And yet…
He thought of Ryven’s smirk.
He thought of the scavenger’s corpse being stolen.
He thought of three years of starvation and humiliation.
He reached out.
The moment his fingers touched the crystal, it shattered into smoke, flooding into his chest like liquid fire. Pain exploded through his body — his vision went white, his lungs seized, and every muscle locked at once. It felt like something was tearing through his veins, rewriting him from the inside out.
Somewhere in the haze of agony, the System’s voice returned — deeper, harsher, almost alive.
> [System Overwrite Initiated]
[New Skill Acquired: Predator’s Growth]
[Effect: All kills grant exponential EXP. Failure to kill for 24 hours results in HP drain until death.]
[Level Up!] → Level 2
[Level Up!] → Level 3
The rush of power was intoxicating — hot, violent, addictive. For the first time in three years, Kael felt the change.
When his vision cleared, the girl was gone. Only her voice lingered in the air, soft as the rain:
“Survive, Kael Renji. Or die.”
---
Kael stared at his hands, trembling — but not from weakness this time. His lips curled into a slow, dangerous smile.
“I’ll survive,” he whispered to himself. “And I’ll make them regret ever calling me weak.”
The rain poured harder, drowning the alley in shadows. Somewhere in the distance, another monster screamed.
Kael stood.
And for the first time in years, he went hunting.
The message hung in the air like a death sentence.
Not spoken, not written — but etched into his very soul.
He could feel it, a subtle ticking.
Not from a clock.
From his body.
> [24:00:00] – Time until HP drain begins.
His breath steamed in the cold forest air. The corpse of the Horned Wolf still bled onto the dirt, a deep metallic scent filling his nose. And with every passing second, something inside him urged him to move — hunt again.
It wasn’t fear exactly. It was hunger.
Primal. Relentless. Alien.
“Damn it…” His hands trembled, and not from exhaustion. The blood on them wasn’t even cold yet, and already his mind was scanning for the next target.
The System had given him power, but now…
Now it had leashed him.
---
The First Kill After the Curse
The forest seemed quieter now. Too quiet.
He didn’t trust it.
He crouched low, remembering the Horned Wolf’s attack patterns. His weapon — still a crudely sharpened stick reinforced with stone — felt inadequate now. It wouldn’t be enough if something bigger came. And something would come. This world didn’t allow weakness.
A rustle.
Three shapes darting between trees.
Small. Quick.
[New Target Detected: Forest Jackals – Lv. 2]
Three against one. His instincts screamed too risky. But another voice — sharper, more dangerous — hissed:
> You don’t have the luxury to wait.
The jackals had already scented the wolf’s corpse. They were approaching cautiously, teeth bared, eyes hungry.
Perfect.
---
The Fight
He didn’t wait for them to strike. He charged.
The first jackal didn’t expect a prey animal to run towards it. His sharpened spear rammed straight into its chest.
> [Critical Hit!] – 54 Damage
[Target Killed]
[+EXP]
The voice in his head purred with approval.
Two more to go.
The second jackal lunged, teeth snapping near his arm. He twisted, letting it overcommit, and drove his weapon into its flank. It yelped, but didn’t fall. The third circled around, going for his legs.
Pain exploded in his calf.
He roared and smashed the butt of his spear into the attacker’s skull.
It wasn’t clean. It wasn’t graceful.
It was survival.
When it was over, three broken bodies lay at his feet. Blood on his hands, his arms, dripping from his chin. He didn’t remember biting — but his mouth tasted of iron.
---
The System’s Reward
> [Kill Streak Bonus!]
[EXP Multiplied x3]
[Level Up!] → Level 4
The warmth flooded through him again — that addictive rush of strength filling every muscle. It made the pain fade. It made his wounds itch instead of bleed. It made him feel… invincible.
And that was the most dangerous feeling of all.
---
Realization
He dragged the jackal corpses together, covering them with leaves. Meat. He needed meat — not just for food, but for bait. If the System demanded kills, then every hour without one was wasted.
> [23:15:42] – Time until HP drain begins.]
The ticking hadn’t stopped.
The kills didn’t reset it to 24 hours. They just… bought him more time. The countdown never paused.
Which meant…
This was permanent.
The only way to live was to hunt. Every day. Forever.
His chest tightened. It wasn’t just about survival anymore. It was about feeding the curse.
---
Nightfall in the Predator’s World
The forest changed when the sun began to fall.
Shadows lengthened into claws. The wind carried whispers instead of leaves. Eyes gleamed in the dark — some curious, some hungry.
He found a hollow in the roots of an enormous tree and crawled inside. He didn’t dare make a fire. The warmth would comfort him, yes… but it would comfort every predator within miles, too.
He sharpened his weapon in the dark. The scraping sound was oddly soothing. He thought of the village he had seen from the cliff earlier that day. If there were people there, maybe… maybe he could find a way to remove this curse.
But the voice inside him laughed.
> Why remove it? Look how strong you’re becoming.
He hated that it was right.
---
Dreams of Blood
Sleep came in fits.
Every time his eyes closed, he dreamed of running through the forest, claws on his hands instead of fingers, teeth in his mouth sharp enough to pierce bone.
In the dreams, he never felt tired.
He never felt afraid.
He only felt… satisfied.
When he woke, his stomach growled, and his body ached for another fight. The countdown burned in his mind.
> [16:03:27] – Time until HP drain begins.]
---
Hunting at Dawn
By morning, the forest was alive again — but it wasn’t the gentle, beautiful kind of alive. Every sound was a warning.
He moved with purpose now. His steps were quieter. His grip on his weapon firmer. Every animal he spotted became a calculation — can I kill it? how much time will it buy me?
It wasn’t long before he saw movement in the ferns. A rabbit. Small. Harmless.
Too harmless.
He crouched, letting it hop closer… and closer… until something larger — much larger — lunged from the side, snapping the rabbit in half in one bite.
The predator was sleek, black-furred, with a tail that lashed like a whip. Its yellow eyes locked on him.
> [New Target Detected: Shadow Lynx – Lv. 5]
The gap in their levels made his skin crawl. But running… running would mean wasting time.
---
The Lynx Battle
It moved first.
A blur of muscle and claws, silent except for the impact when it hit him. The breath whooshed from his lungs. His spear barely came up in time, catching it in the shoulder before its jaws could close on his neck.
> [Hit Landed – 17 Damage]
It didn’t even flinch.
They rolled in the dirt, his weapon wrenched from his grip. He grabbed for anything — a rock, a stick, even its fur — and drove his thumb into its eye.
That made it scream.
It backed off just enough for him to snatch his weapon and drive it deep into its chest.
Once. Twice. Three times.
It shuddered… and collapsed.
> [Target Killed]
[EXP Gained]
[Level Up!] → Level 5
---
Aftermath
He was panting, blood soaking his shirt — not all of it his own. The lynx’s corpse lay at his feet, sleek and beautiful even in death.
He hated killing it.
But he loved what it gave him.
That was the problem.
> [19:42:15] – Time until HP drain begins.]
The countdown ticked on.
And in the silence that followed, he realized something chilling:
It didn’t matter how strong he became.
If he failed to feed the hunger even once…
He’d die.
The rain had stopped, but the smell of iron lingered in the air.
Kael stood in the middle of the street, the bodies of the slavers cooling around him, steam rising from their still-warm flesh. His heartbeat was steady now. Too steady. The system’s cold blue text still hovered faintly in his vision, like it had burned itself into his eyes.
[Level 5]
[Predator’s Growth: Hunger cycle initiated. Time until HP Drain — 23:52]
Twenty-four hours. That’s all the time he had to feed the skill. Twenty-four hours before his own body would turn on him. The system wasn’t giving him a choice anymore — survival meant killing.
Kael wiped the blood from his hands, but it only smeared darker across his skin. He looked down the crooked alley, where the shadows stretched long and deep. Somewhere in those shadows, there were others — men and women who thrived on cruelty, who lived fat off the misery of the weak. He could almost hear them breathing.
And he was going to find them.
---
THE HUNT BEGINS
The first few hours were quiet. Kael moved like a phantom through the city’s underbelly, learning its rhythms. The alleys were a different world — here, the city’s “respectable” laws didn’t matter. Here, strength was the only currency.
He saw a gang cornering a child for stealing bread. In the past, Kael might’ve stepped in carefully, tried to talk. But the hunger didn’t care for talk. It whispered: Meat. Blood. Kill.
Kael dropped from the fire escape like a shadow falling over the gang. The first man didn’t even have time to scream before Kael’s blade opened his throat. The second swung a pipe — Kael caught it, twisted, and drove it through the man’s gut. The third turned to run, but Kael’s hand closed around his ankle, yanking him to the ground before the knife slid between his ribs.
The system chimed, each kill feeding him like a drug.
[EXP Gained]
[Level Up!] → Level 6
The boy fled without a word, his eyes wide with terror. Not at the gang. At Kael.
---
WHISPERS OF THE BOOGEYMAN
By the second night, word had begun to spread.
In the gambling dens, they whispered about something that had slaughtered the Harrow Street crew in under a minute. In the brothels, they said a shadow had taken the pimp’s head clean off. In the black market, they called him the Collector — because the bodies he left looked like trophies.
Kael didn’t care what they called him. Every whisper was another layer of fear, and fear made hunting easier.
---
THE KINGPIN
On the third night, Kael’s search brought him to a man named Rorik Vance — a kingpin who owned half the illegal trade in the eastern quarter. Human trafficking, drugs, extortion — Rorik’s name was written in blood across the city’s history.
Kael didn’t knock on Rorik’s door. He kicked it in.
The kingpin’s guards scrambled to draw weapons, but Kael was already among them, moving like water — a blur of steel and shadow. Blood sprayed the walls. A man’s arm fell to the floor, still clutching a pistol. Another’s jaw shattered under Kael’s boot before his head was crushed against the marble.
Rorik was backing toward the window, stammering.
“W-wait! I can pay you—”
Kael’s voice was a low growl. “I’m not here for money.”
And then Rorik’s body was a lifeless heap, his head rolling across the floor.
The system’s text flared bright.
[Level Up!] → Level 7
---
NO TURNING BACK
That night, Kael stood atop the rooftops, looking down at the city.
Somewhere below, people were still laughing, still living their lives, oblivious to the predator walking among them. But in the shadows, in the places where evil men thought they were untouchable… a new name was being spoken in hushed tones.
They said if you were corrupt, if you preyed on the weak, if you thought yourself above the law — the Boogeyman would come for you.
And he would not stop.
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