Marrow Cleansing at Midnight
Back in the hotel room, Julian D'Aurelius sat on the sofa, silently chanting in his heart.
The suite was quiet now.
Too quiet compared to the chaos from earlier.
The distant city lights of Woodland shimmered beyond the floor-to-ceiling window, painting gold across the carpet. Somewhere far below, traffic murmured like a river.
And Julian sat there, black-haired, golden-eyed, looking far too serious for a man mentally arguing with a system.
Inside his heart he called out.
"Shitty System, where's my reward?"
There was a pause.
Then the familiar mechanical tone rang in his mind.
"Beep, reward: physical enhancement, and a significant boost to the weakling host's strength."
"Weakling host?" Julian muttered aloud. "You give rewards and still insult people?"
But the moment the system's cold voice faded, his expression changed.
Something moved inside him.
No—surged.
Like invisible rivers were tearing through his muscles and bones.
