Chapter 22: Change

Adam was no longer weak.

The days of helplessness and barely surviving, were gone.

Now, he had power, real, tangible strength pulsing in his veins.

And what made it even more thrilling was the knowledge that he still had room to grow.

Leaving the bank, Adam stepped out into the bustling street of the Sector.

The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, painting the world in shades of gold and gray.

But he stopped mid-step.

“I’ve still got that loan to deal with.”

He glanced down at himself, his jacket, his hands and his boots.

They were still drenched in dried blood, dark and crusted from his battle in the rift.

The smell clung to him faintly, it was metallic and heavy.

“Better I head home first and clean up,” he decided with a sigh.

He turned away from the main road and began walking toward his neighborhood.

He didn’t bother catching a bus. Instead, he let his feet carry him through the sector’s narrow side streets.

A few minutes later, he found what he was looking for, a narrow alleyway tucked between two tall, concrete buildings.

He looked around. No one was watching.

Good.

Though it wouldn’t have made a difference either way.

In the next moment, Adam’s body tensed slightly as he activated Rapid E.

A sharp surge of power coursed through his lower limbs, humming beneath his skin like liquid lightning.

The world seemed to slow around him as his muscles tightened with explosive force.

Then, he vanished.

His body shot forward, a blur invisible to the normal naked eye.

He raced through the alleyways of the Sector, the wind howling in his ears as his feet barely touched the ground.

He vaulted over a brick wall with effortless precision, spun off the side of a rusted fire escape, and sprinted across the rooftops with a speed that left only faint trails of dust behind.

Every movement was fluid and instinctive, his balance, perfect; his breathing, steady.

The city blurred beneath him.

And then, in the distance, he caught sight of it, his apartment complex, a weathered building nestled between two high-rises.

Adam landed softly at the edge of the street and came to a stop before the entrance.

The surge of power faded as he deactivated Rapid E, his heartbeat slowing to normal.

He exhaled lightly, and stepped inside the building, the faint sound of his footsteps echoing through the quiet corridor.

****

Adam stepped into his run-down apartment, wearing a simple robe with a towel draped around his neck.

His hair was still dripping wet, and faint trails of steam rose from his freshly washed skin.

He had just returned from the shared bathroom down the hall, it was a cracked-tiled, dimly lit place that always smelled faintly of soap.

He’d spent far longer there than usual, scrubbing off every trace of blood, before cleaning the sink and floor afterward to remove the mess.

Though the task hadn’t been physically demanding, it had been mentally exhausting.

He sighed softly.

“I should be more careful next time,” he muttered, running a hand through his damp hair.

Adam made a mental note to avoid getting monster blood on himself during future runs.

It was tedious, time-consuming and the stench was nearly impossible to wash away.

After drying off completely, he changed into his grey sweatpants and a black, worn-out T-shirt, the one he usually wore at home.

The soft, faded fabric clung comfortably to his skin, bringing a rare sense of warmth that made him finally feel clean.

He sat down on the narrow bed, which creaked faintly beneath him, and turned on the small TV in the corner.

Static-filled chatter and faint music filled the room, serving only as background noise.

With a flick of thought, Adam summoned his panel.

╭───────────╮

〖Name: Adam〗

〖Rank: None〗

〖Cultivation Talent: G〗

〖Special Talent: Equip ❖ Connect〗

〖SLOT〗

↳ SOUL (2): Rapid E ❖ Poison F

↳ BODY (5): Empty

╰───────────╯

Adam studied the glowing screen for a while, his eyes lingering on the Soul Slot section.

“Is it possible to increase the slot limit?”

The question had been gnawing at him for a while now.

Being limited to only two talent slots would only frustrate him in the future.

Sure, if he found a stronger talent or a stronger version of a talent he already had; something similar to Rapid E or Poison F, he could simply swap them.

But if the next talent he found was different, yet equally powerful, he’d be forced to choose between them.

He frowned at the thought.

“I don’t want to be in a situation where I have to choose between keeping one talent and letting another go.”

He exhaled sharply, then smirked to himself.

“Only fools choose, the wise find a way to keep it all.”

That sounded better.

And he had a gut feeling about how to do exactly that.

His gaze shifted to the rank indicator on his panel, still showing None.

“When a martial artist ranks up, both their body and soul evolve and a more powerful soul could, in turn, mean more slots. However, ranking up is only possible with a suitable cultivation talent.”

Adam clenched his fists slightly, his gaze gradually darkening.

“I need to equip a high-grade cultivation talent, something higher than F rank.”

That was the only path forward, the only way to gain exponential growth.

After that thought, he switched off the TV. The quiet hum of the apartment filled the silence as he lay down, pulling the blanket over himself.

He didn’t realize how drained he truly was until his body finally relaxed against the mattress. Within seconds, his breathing slowed.

And before he even knew it, Adam was asleep, the faint glow of his panel fading away as the room dimmed into silence.

****

Adam walked through the busy morning streets, the air carrying the faint scent of incense and damp earth.

He had just come from his mother’s memorial.

Now, his path led him once again to the Mission Hall.

The grand glass doors slid open as he stepped inside.

The familiar buzz of voices, boots, and chatter greeted him, but today, something was different.

The hall was crowded as always, but there was a strange tension in the air.

Conversations halted and resumed in whispers, gazes darted toward him and away again.

He could hear snippets of conversation carried through the noise.

“I swear, I was so shocked when he walked in,” a rough voice said from somewhere to his left.

“Never in my life have I seen someone covered in that much blood and still walking like nothing happened.”

Another martial artist nodded eagerly.

“Yeah, that guy’s no joke. You felt it too, right? The killing intent rolling off him… It didn’t affect me much, though, since I always knew he wasn’t simple.”

Another martial artist added.

A fourth voice snorted from across the hall.

“Please don’t act like you knew he was special, you were the first one calling him a fake.”

“I did no such thing!” the man protested immediately, his tone dripping with shameless confidence.

The surrounding martial artists rolled their eyes, but laughter broke out anyway.

Adam walked past them quietly, his expression calm.

Never thought I’d become the center of gossip. He was almost amused.

He glanced briefly at the crowd, none of them recognized him.

That made sense.

Compared to yesterday, his aura was different.

His essence was faint, barely noticeable, and without the overwhelming presence of blood and battle clinging to him, he looked far less intimidating.

Now, he looked… normal.

They might have noticed some similarities if they looked closely enough, but Adam didn’t care either way.

He was just another young man among many, tired eyes, plain clothes, calm steps.

To most, he might’ve seemed like a lost kid wandering into the wrong place.

Adam let out a small exhale and continued walking toward the reception counter, ignoring the buzz of conversation around him.

As he passed, one of the martial artists from the group who’d been gossiping watched him go.

There was a strange glint in the man’s eyes.

“Something’s about to change in our Sector.”

He leaned back in his chair, gaze still fixed on Adam’s retreating figure.

“And that kid, is the one who’s going to lead it.”

****

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