Chapter 17: Jamie’s First Kill:Part 3

[1:40]

Something unheard of was happening — their prey’s speed had increased, unlike anything before.

In this world every player’s strength was limited by their stats: twenty speed points meant moving at the speed for twenty points. The only way to improve was to get blue points. At a one-to-one ratio, one blue point gave one stat point, and with blue points you could raise your maneuverability and strength.

“Did I see that right?” one of the underlings whispered, his voice shaking as he struggled to pull himself to his feet.

“His speed— it just increased!” He straightened, staring at his opponent, who lay flat on the ground, heavy-breathing. Whether from pain or from choice, he was unmistakably exhausted; every inhale was loud in the charged air.

The commander stood like a column of steam, confidence radiating off him. The fight was still tense and he wanted to keep it that way. In an instant he lunged at Jamie.

Jamie dodged, setting off a new round of the brawl. Memories of his gym trainer flooded him: a muscular man in shorts, his face scarred by years of army work. “You can never improve if you don’t face larger obstacles!” he used to bark — the phrase had become rote, its meaning dulled by repetition. Now, in the middle of the fight, Jamie let that old scream sharpen into purpose.

“To train my strength,” he thought, sparks of adrenaline and blood spitting into the sky. “I have to put myself in a situation that challenges me.”

He went low as a hammer crashed from above — a blow with the force of a small storm. Jamie met it with his kali sticks; wood met metal with a shock that ran up his arms. Veins bulged, muscles clenched. To the commander it must have felt like trying to crush a mountain; to Jamie it was a chance. A battle of strength, a chance to grow.

The exchange dragged them both deeper into the contest. Each heavy strike forced Jamie to endure more, each parry taught him something new. He took one step back, hands on his knees, sweat soaking his face as he drew breath after breath to steady his thoughts. Slowly, the pain eased; his heartbeat steadied.

His system screen flickered into view:

[Strength 30 + 20 points]

A surge of accomplishment flooded his face. This was working. He tasted the idea of applying the same pressure to other stats and felt courage settle in his chest like armor.

“Why does your system screen always show up?” the commander barked, irritation sharpening his voice.

Jamie raised his head and forced a smile. He thought, briefly, of the Glitch — the anomaly that made this impossible display possible. He told himself this wasn’t how things were supposed to be. “None of your business,” he snapped.

The commander’s face darkened. He had the highest stats among them, and even so he was being pushed — a humiliation he hid badly. He charged again, harder this time, grip like iron. One thought hammered in Jamie’s mind: end this with a single strike.

Jamie parried, absorbed blow after blow. Each impact dug new strength into him: endurance rising with every slam, agility increasing with every dodge, raw power accruing with every blocked assault.

Beep.

The system notification chimed:

Speed +10 points

Strength +20 points

Endurance +40 points

Agility +20 points

Combat Experience +30 points

“That’s better,” Jamie muttered.

“Commander!” he called, stepping forward until the ground trembled beneath him. The air around him crackled with the force of his approach.

Then the words that had started the whole spectacle burned across the sky like a banner:

[Yellow Sun]

Jamie’s body changed. His eyes flared yellow; his hair lifted, electrified. Lightning traced along his limbs — no longer wild and chaotic, but focused and controlled. The trembling vibration that once shook him calmed; everyone could see he was finding a hold on this power.

“Yellow Sun again!” the commander spat, terror and fury mixing in his voice.

“I have brought justice for inhuman acts,” Jamie declared, thunder humming with each syllable. Every step left a footprint that seemed to scream across the ground.

An electric crack split the air — the single, clear sound that meant it was happening. Jamie moved. The commander could not counter in time. A hole opened in his chest: ribs flared, warm blood poured like a waterfall. Lightning braided through the wound, and there, through the aperture, Jamie’s silhouette hunched behind him, hands gripping the newly-extracted gun.

Cough. Cough.

The commander retched blood; his eyes reddened, veins pulsing like ropes. He mouthed something, a lost echo of those he had killed. He let go of his hammer. It hit the ground and dissolved into blue pixels, the same color as the streak in his hair.

Jamie stepped forward, calm, and watched the life ebb. The Scary Vice — some other fighter — remained unconscious, blood soaking his arm. Jamie moved closer to the coughing commander, the man’s heart thudding weakly in his palm. Lightning traced the organ, drawing it like iron to a magnet. Slowly, deliberately, Jamie tore.

“You said you don’t kill,” the commander croaked at last, eyes clouding.

“What a joke!”

Jamie’s face was empty for a beat — then a humorless laugh cut through him. Blood smeared his lips.

” I still don’t kill,” Jamie replied, but the logic was thin when the man in front of him could not be revived. “What’s the use of debating principles with a dead man?” He pushed the commander’s disassembled body to the ground; it slid with a dull, final thud.

The underlings watched, frozen. Sweat beaded on brows; hands trembled; eyes blurred with fear. The boy with lightning still burning moved like a shadow among them.

Should we beg? They thought. Could we run? No — there was no salvation visible in any option.

Beep

The system screen opened again

With the words written.

[Collected 200 points]

Jamie approached them, the beating heart cupped in his hand. Every breath they took sounded like a sentence.

“I sentence you to death for inhuman acts,” he said, raising his left arm. Thunder rolled along his skin; even the air seemed to stiffen around him.

Their faces crumpled. The underlings fell to their knees, heads bowed, lips mumbling broken prayers.

Jamie lowered his arm as if preparing to strike.

A scream cut from the gate.

“Jamie!!” Bray’s voice carried, raw and unsteady. He stood there, hair lifted, yellow light coursing over his body, the heart still clutched in his hands.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep