Chapter 3- The blood Hunger

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.

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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.

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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.

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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

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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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