The wolves emerged from the underbrush like ghosts in the twilight, their eyes gleaming with predatory hunger under the fading sun. There were five of them, mangy fur matted with mud, fangs bared in low growls that vibrated through the damp forest air. Michael—still adjusting to Mu's lithe, undernourished body—felt a surge of adrenaline, the familiar rush of a hit gone sideways. Back on Earth, he'd faced worse: armed cartels, sniper duels in war zones. But here? No gun, no backup. Just a rock slick with rabbit blood and this bizarre system floating in his vision like a hallucination.
*Assess: Pack leader at the front, larger, scarred. Flankers circling. Weakness: Coordination—disrupt the alpha, scatter the rest.* His mind clicked through tactics, hitman training overriding the boy's lingering fear. The lead wolf lunged, jaws snapping at his thigh. Michael sidestepped, the beast's hot breath grazing his rags, and brought the rock down hard on its skull. A crack echoed, blood spraying in an arc that painted the leaves crimson.
**Badass Action: Precise Counterstrike. +50 Badass Points.**
The interface pinged again, words materializing with a faint chime only he could hear. The other wolves hesitated, whining, but charged as one. Michael rolled under a swipe, grabbing a fallen branch—sharp at one end from some storm snap. He thrust it upward, impaling a second wolf through the throat. Gurgling, it collapsed, warm ichor soaking his hands. The metallic tang filled his nostrils, mixing with the earthy rot of the forest floor. *Two down. Three to go.*
His shoulder burned from the earlier phantom wound, but Mu's body moved with surprising agility—perhaps a remnant of the system's "integration." He dodged a third wolf's pounce, kicking it mid-air and sending it tumbling into thorns. The fourth bit at his calf, tearing fabric and drawing blood. Pain flared, hot and real, grounding him in this nightmare. "Damn it," he hissed, human frustration bubbling up. This wasn't a sim; it hurt like hell.
**Combat Engaged: Pack Hunt. +100 Badass Points for Multi-Kill Efficiency.**
The points accumulated, a counter ticking in the corner of his vision: 300 total now. Michael swung the branch like a spear, cracking ribs on the recovering wolf. It yelped, retreating. The last two circled warily, but he pressed the advantage, feinting left before striking right. One went down with a shattered jaw; the final beast turned tail, fleeing into the shadows.
Breathing ragged, Michael slumped against a tree, bark rough against his back. The forest sounds amplified his isolation—rustling leaves, distant bird calls, the drip of sap from wounded trunks. Blood trickled down his leg, stinging, a reminder of vulnerability. *Layla... was it worth it?* The betrayal lingered like a ghost, but survival pushed it aside. He focused on the interface, willing it to expand.
**System Menu Unlocked. Host Query Detected.**
The holographic display bloomed fuller, translucent panels hovering like augmented reality overlays. It listed categories: Status, Skills, Inventory, Quests, Shop. Curiosity mixed with skepticism—Michael had seen enough sci-fi flicks to question this. "Explain the rules," he muttered, voice hoarse.
**Badass System Rules:**
**1. Earn Badass Points (BP) through acts of badassery: Kills (scaled by target strength), schemes (deception/manipulation), dominance (intimidation/alliance forging), and feats (survival challenges, power displays).**
**2. Spend BP in the Shop for skills, items, enhancements, or intel. No refunds—choose wisely.**
**3. Level up via Experience (EXP) from quests/kills to unlock higher tiers (Mortal to Foundation, etc.). Cultivation integration: Absorb arch energy to amplify.**
**4. Origin: Classified. Higher directives may apply. Failure to progress risks system override.**
**Bonus: First-time bonus unlocked. Spend 100 BP to acquire 'Responsive Shield' (basic defense aura).**
Michael's eyes narrowed. *Control or be controlled.* It felt like a game, but the pain was too real, the stakes too high. Strategic mind whirring, he navigated to the Shop. Options scrolled: Basic Dagger (50 BP), Healing Potion (75 BP), Skill: Stealth Step (150 BP). He selected Responsive Shield, confirming with a mental nod. A warmth spread through him, like caffeine hitting the veins, and a faint glow enveloped his skin before fading.
**Skill Acquired: Responsive Shield (Level 1). Auto-activates on threat, absorbs minor damage. Upgradeable.**
Testing it, he pricked his finger on a thorn— the shield shimmered briefly, dulling the sting. "Not bad," he admitted, a smirk tugging at his lips despite the ache in his leg. Human skepticism lingered: Was this a dream? A afterlife prank? But Mu's memories confirmed the world's brutality—sects crushing the weak, beasts roaming free. He'd adapt, turn this system into his weapon.
Scavenging the wolf corpses, he harvested their cores: Glowing orbs pulsing with faint energy. Popping one, that same warmth surged, mending his calf wound partially. *Strategic: Farm these for quick heals.* The others he pocketed—Inventory unlocked a mental storage space, weightless and secure. +150 BP from the pack kill, pushing him to 350 total.
The minimap pulsed: Village 2 km east. Night was falling, shadows lengthening, carrying the chill of impending danger. Michael moved cautiously, branch in hand as a makeshift staff. The forest thickened, vines snagging at his feet, insects buzzing in swarms that he swatted away with irritation. *Like the jungles in Colombia—minus the cartel snipers.* Memories of past ops flashed: Silent kills under moonlight, the thrill of outsmarting death. Here, it was amplified, the system quantifying his edge.
As he crested a hill, the village came into view: A cluster of thatched huts huddled around a muddy square, torchlight flickering against the dusk. Smoke curled from chimneys, carrying scents of stew and woodfire. Mu's memories flooded back—cruel villagers, the baker who beat him for scraps, the elder who turned a blind eye. Anger simmered, human and raw. *They left him—me—for dead. Payback? Or low profile?*
Strategic choice: Intel first. He approached stealthily, hugging the treeline. But a child's shrill voice pierced the quiet: "Look! It's Mu! The thief's back from the dead!"
Heads turned, murmurs rising like a tide. A burly man—Mu's abuser, the blacksmith—stepped forward, hammer in hand, eyes widening in shock then narrowing in malice. "You little rat. Should've stayed gone."
Michael straightened, Responsive Shield humming faintly. The system's quest updated: **Survive Village Encounter. Bonus for Dominance Display.**
*Game on.*