Sunlight streamed through the blinds, painting stripes of gold across King's face. He awoke not to the slow, groggy warmth of a normal morning, but with a jolt, his system-cleared mind snapping to awareness instantly. For a single, blissful moment, everything was normal.
Then he saw it. The blue system screen, minimized to a small, pulsating icon in the corner of his vision, a constant, silent reminder that his world had been fundamentally rewritten.
He sat up, the movement feeling unnaturally smooth. Throwing the covers back, he stared down at his bare torso. In the harsh light of day, the changes were even more undeniable. The muscle definition wasn't a dream or a trick of the light. It was solid, real. He poked his own abdomen, feeling the firm resistance. A part of him, the part that had lived in fear for years, waited for it to suddenly deflate, revealing the soft, unremarkable body beneath the illusion.
It didn't.
"This is really happening," he mumbled, his voice rough with sleep and disbelief. He stood and walked to the mirror, repeating the ritual from the night before. The man staring back had the same face, the same scars, but there was a new tension in the shoulders, a readiness in the stance that hadn't been there before. He wasn't the Strongest Man on Earth, but he was no longer the man who would trip over a curb while running away.
As he dressed, his mind, clearer now without the blinding panic of discovery, returned to the system's mechanics. The SOURCE LOG was burned into his memory. The passive trickle from the public was steady. The admiration from heroes was a nice bonus. But the entry that stood out, the one that promised a tangible, immediate return, was the one tied to monster terror.
"The best way… is to make them believe," he whispered to himself, pulling a plain, dark jacket over his shoulders. "If a monster is terrified of me… the points flood in."
The conclusion was as terrifying as it was obvious. To get stronger quickly, to afford the abilities that could truly let him survive in this world, he needed to face a monster. Not by accident, not while fleeing, but on purpose.
The thought made his stomach clench. The King Engine gave a preliminary, nervous thump. He was planning to walk towards the danger. It was the most insane thing he had ever considered.
He found a baseball cap and a disposable face mask in a drawer. It wasn't much of a disguise, but it hid his most recognizable features—his face and his hair. If this went horribly wrong, if he had to run away screaming, maybe, just maybe, no one would recognize the great King.
Stepping out of his apartment felt like stepping onto a tightrope. Every sound—a distant car alarm, a shouting neighbor—made him flinch. He kept his head down, hands shoved in his pockets, and made his way towards the train station. His destination: Z-City.
It was a calculated risk. Z-City was notoriously full of monsters, but thanks to Saitama's… pest control… the ones that lingered were often the weaker, dumber ones, too insignificant for the Hero Association to prioritize and too cowardly to approach the bald cape's territory. It was the perfect, horrifying hunting ground for a beginner.
On the nearly-empty train, he sat in the corner, his heart a steady, anxious drum against his ribs. He pulled up his system screen, minimizing the shop and focusing on the map function he'd discovered. It was faint, but it could vaguely sense concentrations of "hostile intent." Most of Z-City was a dull gray, but there were a few, faint red blips in the abandoned districts.
Just a Wolf-level, he thought, his knuckles white as he gripped his knees. Something small. Something that can't spit acid or fly. Please, just something I can… intimidate.
He remembered the feeling of his Aura at Level 2, the way the very air had grown heavy. He hadn't tested it on a living thing yet. What if it didn't work? What if the monster just saw a masked man having a heart attack and decided he looked like a snack?
The train screeched to a halt at the Z-City border. King took a deep, shuddering breath and stood up. This was it. The point of no return.
He walked through the desolate, wind-swept streets, the emptiness amplifying the sound of his own footsteps. The system's map led him deeper, the red blip growing slightly brighter. He turned a corner into a debris-strewn plaza and froze.
There it was. A monster, about the size of a large dog, but with the body of a twisted frog and the chitinous legs of a grasshopper. It was gnawing on a discarded refrigerator. A Wolf-level, for sure. The "Cricket-Hopper" or something equally stupid, he guessed.
His body screamed at him to run. Every instinct, honed over years of successful evasion, was in open revolt. His breath hitched. This was madness.
But then he saw the points in his vision. BP: 4,860. It had gone up slightly from the passive gain. It was a pittance. To get the next thing, to get stronger, he needed more.
He focused. He thought of the legends. He thought of the terror he'd felt and learned to project. He pushed.
Thump.
The King Engine roared to life, no longer a symptom of panic, but a weapon he was consciously unsheathing. The sound echoed in the empty plaza, deep and menacing.
The Cricket-Hopper stopped chewing. It turned its bulbous head, its compound eyes fixing on the large, masked figure standing at the edge of the square.
King took a single, deliberate step forward.
The monster flinched. It took a hesitant hop backward.
[Wolf-level Threat: Mutant Cricket-Hopper - Status: Wary]
[BP Generated: +50]
A jolt, entirely different from fear, shot through King. It was working. He took another step, focusing all his will into that aura of dread.
The Cricket-Hopper let out a nervous, chittering sound. It was afraid. Of him.
[Wolf-level Threat: Mutant Cricket-Hopper - Status: Terrified]
[BP Generated: +150]
Emboldened, King took a third step, and then he ran. Not away, but towards it. It was a clumsy, unpracticed sprint, but with his new Agility, it was far faster than any run he'd ever managed in terror.
The monster, seeing the legendary King charging it, its heart pounding a war-drum of doom, completely broke. It tried to leap away, but its terror made it clumsy.
King didn't have a technique. He didn't have a plan. He just put all the new, unfamiliar strength in his body into a single, desperate punch aimed at the monster's back as it tried to flee.
There was a wet crunch. The chitinous shell cracked under his fist. The Cricket-Hopper squealed once, a pathetic sound, and went limp.
King stood over the dissolving remains, panting, his fist stinging. The King Engine was still pounding, a mix of residual fear and overwhelming, electrifying triumph.
[Wolf-level Threat: Mutant Cricket-Hopper - Status: DEFEATED]
[Bonus BP for Successful Intimidation and Elimination: +500]
[Total BP: 5,560]
He had done it. He had actually hunted a monster. He had used his reputation as a weapon and his new strength to finish the job. He wasn't just lucky anymore. He was… active.
He looked at his smoking fist, then at the system notification. The fear was still there, a familiar companion. But now, it was sharing space with something new, something fierce and hungry.
The residual adrenaline was a foreign, electric hum in King's veins. He moved through the derelict streets of Z-City with a new, cautious purpose, his senses heightened. The dissolving remains of the Cricket-Hopper were already gone, but the memory of the crunch under his knuckles was seared into his mind. He'd done it. He had actually won.
But as the initial rush faded, his gamer's mind began a cold, analytical post-mortem. The run towards the monster had been clumsy, his footing unsure on the rubble. The punch had been a wild, telegraphed swing that only connected out of sheer luck and the monster's blind panic. If it had been slightly faster, slightly braver, it could have easily dodged and counterattacked. He'd have been a sitting duck.
"Too sloppy," he muttered to himself, pulling up the system's shop once more. The [Basic Combat Instincts] passive glowed, now costing a mere 2,000 of his newly acquired points. Its description was simple, but to King, it was everything: "Grants foundational knowledge of melee combat, footwork, and evasion. Does not grant experience."
It wouldn't make him a master. But it would give him the manual. It would stop him from tripping over his own feet in a charge. It might teach him how to throw a punch without throwing his entire body off balance.
"It's not an option. It's a necessity," he reasoned, his voice a low rumble. He confirmed the purchase.
This time, the effect was subtler than the physical transformation but just as profound. It wasn't a surge of power, but a quiet download of information into his subconscious. He didn't suddenly know kung-fu, but concepts of balance, weight distribution, and basic attack angles settled into his mind. He shifted his stance slightly, and his body naturally found a more stable, grounded posture. It felt… right.
BP: 3,560
He felt a renewed, if nervous, confidence. "Alright. One more. Let's do this properly."
He followed the system's map to another faint red blip, this one in a dilapidated parking garage. The dim, cavernous space was filled with the ghosts of old cars and the smell of damp concrete. In the center, gnawing on a support pillar, was his target.
It was a bizarre, lumpy creature the size of a bear, covered in pebbly, gray hide. Its most distinguishing feature was its two heads, each one sporting a single, milky eye and a slobbering maw. It looked slow. Manageable.
King took a deep breath, focused, and activated his Aura. The now-familiar pressure built in his chest.
Thump.
The King Engine echoed ominously in the enclosed space.
The two-headed monster stopped chewing. Both heads turned in perfect, unnerving unison to face him. For a moment, it just stared. Then, a low, gurgling growl emanated from both throats. It didn't seem terrified. It seemed… curious.
[Tiger-level Threat: Binary Brawler - Status: Cautious]
[BP Generated: +100]
Tiger-level?! Panic flared in King's chest. This was a step up. A big one. But he was committed. He took a step forward, pouring more intent into his Aura, making the very air around him thick with menace.
The Binary Brawler didn't retreat. Instead, it let out a dual shriek, and in a horrifying display, the seam between its two heads split open down the middle of its body. With a sound like tearing Velcro, the monster ripped itself into two identical, bear-sized creatures.
King stared, dumbfounded. "It can… what?!"
The two monsters now circled him, their movements coordinated, their single eyes locked on him. The system flickered.
[Tiger-level Threat: Binary Brawler (Split Form) - Status: Hostile]
[BP Generated: +50... +50...]
The points were still coming, but slowly. They weren't terrified; they were hunting him together.
One of them lunged. It was faster than it looked. The old King would have frozen solid. But the new King, guided by his freshly purchased instincts, didn't. His body moved on autopilot, a quick sidestep that was far more graceful than anything he was capable of before. The monster's claws whistled past his face, missing by inches.
The second one attacked from his blind spot. Again, his body reacted without conscious thought, dropping into a low crouch as a heavy, club-like arm swung over his head. He could feel the wind of the blow.
He was evading, but he was on the defensive. Pure intimidation wasn't going to work here. He had to fight.
As the first monster recovered and lunged again, King didn't wildy swing. He remembered the principles now ingrained in him: Plant your feet. Pivot from the hips. Channel the force. He met the charge with a straight, powerful punch aimed at the center of its mass.
THUD.
The impact was solid, jarring his arm to the shoulder. The monster grunted and staggered back, its single eye blinking in confusion. It was hurt!
But the second one was on him instantly. King brought his arms up in a rough, clumsy block. The instinct was there, but the form was still novice. The blow sent him skidding backward across the concrete, his arms screaming in protest. His Vitality stat was the only thing that stopped them from breaking.
He was panting now, his heart a frantic drum. They were too much. He couldn't handle two at once. His eyes darted between them, and a desperate idea formed. They were separate, but they had been one. What if…
He feinted towards the one he'd punched, making it flinch back. Then, with a burst of his new Agility, he spun and bolted away—not out of the garage, but in a wide circle, leading the two monsters on a chase. He weaved between pillars, using the environment, his combat instincts helping him navigate the terrain without falling.
The two monsters, enraged, followed, their coordination breaking as they scrambled around obstacles, trying to cut him off.
He led them straight towards a thick, central support pillar. At the last second, he juked to the side. The two monsters, unable to stop their momentum, slammed into each other headfirst with a sickening CRACK right in front of the pillar.
They stumbled, dazed. For a crucial second, they were a tangled, confused heap.
This was his chance.
King didn't hesitate. He charged forward, not with a wild punch, but with a focused, powerful drive, putting all of his enhanced Strength and weight behind his shoulder. He slammed into both of them, pinning them against the concrete pillar.
A guttural roar, born of fear and desperation, tore from his throat. "RRRAAAGH!"
The King Engine reached a deafening crescendo. In that moment, with this display of brutal, tactical force, the monsters' perception shifted from hunter to prey. The legend of King became real in their tiny, terrified minds.
[Tiger-level Threat: Binary Brawler (Both) - Status: Mortally Terrified]
[BP Generated: +1,500!]
With a final, grunting shove, he heard something crack. The two forms went limp, then began to dissolve, their matter sluggishly sliding back together into a single, defeated corpse before vanishing entirely.
King slumped against the pillar, gasping for air, his body trembling from exertion and spent adrenaline. He looked at his notifications.
[Tiger-level Threat: Binary Brawler - DEFEATED]
[Bonus BP for Tactical Victory: +1,000]
[Total BP: 6,060]
He had done it. Against a Tiger-level. Not through overwhelming power, but through a cheap skill, a clever trick, and his own, burgeoning will to survive. He looked at his hands, then at the empty space where the monster had been. A slow, weary, but deeply satisfied smile spread across his face beneath the mask.
The path was still terrifying. But with every step, he was becoming less of a fraud and more of a fighter.