Bryce was wounded and barely holding together.
Blood dripped from his back as he limped forward, the jagged wounds from the Spinehound's claws too deep for any field patch-up. His stone skin was crumbling in chunks, his breathing labored.
I looked around, trying to spot Kane.
Gone.
"Kane!" I shouted into the dead forest.
No answer.
Instead, the system chimed.
[Gate Cleared — Time Left Before Collapse: 30:00]
[Lives Saved: 12]
[Level Up!]
[You have gained 1 Upgrade Point.]
I clenched my jaw.
We needed to move.
I picked up the sharpened spine I had ripped from the giant Spinehound and wrapped it around my neck like a crude symbol of victory. Then, without hesitation, I lifted Bryce over one shoulder—his stone plating groaning—and Emma's lifeless body into my other arm.
And I ran.
I broke through the shimmering veil of the Gate just in time.
A boom echoed as my feet slammed into the concrete outside. The force of my landing cracked the road beneath me, sending a shockwave outward.
I nearly collided with a squad of fully armed STF operatives stationed outside. The air tensed—blades unsheathed, powers readied.
They thought I was a monster breaking out.
But before anything exploded, a voice rang out.
"Stand down!"
Everyone froze.
Then the dust settled.
An old man stepped forward, clad in armored police gear. His expression was unreadable, eyes sharp beneath a visor lined with tactical data. His badge gleamed: Zone F-12 STF Officer.
He glanced at Emma. At Bryce. Then at me.
"Assist them," he ordered.
His men moved in quickly, lifting Bryce onto a stretcher.
The man turned back to me.
"You cleared the Gate?"
"Yes," I said flatly. "Did you see Kane?"
His expression didn't change. "Yes."
I stepped forward. "Where is he?"
"He left. Said his squad didn't make it."
I narrowed my eyes. "He left us to die. That bastard knew something and hid it from us. He smiled before he vanished. Emma died because of him."
The commander folded his arms. "That's a serious accusation."
"It's not an accusation," I snapped. "It's the truth."
He stared at me—calm, but cold. "Do you have evidence he deliberately withheld information?"
"He used detection magic. He found that entire pack of Spinehounds—but somehow missed the giant one? And then vanished right before it struck?"
"He ran for his own survival," the commander said firmly. "And you can't prove intent. You're new. Learn from this. Next time—pick better teammates."
He turned.
"Wait," I called, my voice low. "I just want to talk to him."
The commander didn't turn back.
"Word of advice, kid—don't do whatever you're thinking."
Another officer stepped up, checking his watch. "Gate collapse countdown is verified. We're done here."
"Pack it up," the commander ordered.
I clenched my fist, the bone-white shard of Spinehound spine rattling around my neck.
The only thing I could do now was walk away.
But I swore—next time I found Kane, I'd make him explain everything.
And I wouldn't stop until I got the answers I wanted.
I used the last of my change to hop on a bus back to the Hero Center. It was still quiet, but more people had started showing up—mostly low-ranked heroes using the lobby as a meetup point. Peak time wouldn't hit for another hour.
I went straight to the receptionist desk.
The same tired lady from before looked up as I approached, scanning my face briefly before glancing at the terminal.
"Hero ID," she said automatically.
I handed her my card. She scanned it, and a soft beep confirmed my mission.
"Zone F-12... Cleared. You're eligible for payout. Payment method?"
"Cash."
She raised an eyebrow, but didn't question it. "Alright. That's $100 base—wait..." She paused as new data appeared.
"You brought in a salvaged monster part?"
I nodded and pulled out the jagged piece of Spinehound bone. Her eyes widened slightly.
"This... isn't from a normal specimen."
"Because it wasn't," I said. "It nearly wiped out my entire team."
She typed quickly. "Unregistered variant. That means we'll appraise it first. If it turns out to be a standard part, we'll issue a payout based on market rate. But if it's confirmed to be a unique variant, you'll be eligible for an additional research bonus."
She glanced up. "Either way, the reward will be processed and sent to your ID-linked account once the lab confirms it."
I nodded. "That's fine. I can wait.
After a moment, she nodded. "Preliminary payout, $75."
"Only $75?"
"Your mission reward was $100, but $25 is deducted as a Scout Fee."
"Scout fee?"
She nodded. "Standard rule. The first team to enter and report monster intel gets a share of all successful clears that follow. You benefited from their info—so you owe them the cut."
"Tch."
She printed the receipt and handed me the bills.
I tucked the money into my pocket and headed to a rundown electronics shack a few blocks away. Used phone. No warranty. Cracked screen. Still worked.
I registered my ID, scanned my face, and synced my Hero System.
These days, one phone per person—locked to your social security ID. A measure to kill spam and ID fraud.
Total surveillance in exchange for peace.
That was the price you paid for safety in this era.
Still... I didn't like it.
The government could track every call, every location, every purchase with a single tap.
But as an engineer, I had to admit—technically brilliant.
Nationwide biometric sync. Real-time hero tracking. Distributed system resilience.
It was a logistical miracle.
Creepy... but impressive.
But enough of that.
I'd survived a Gate.
Carried a corpse with one arm and a bleeding tank with the other.
Leveled up.
And I still had ten bucks in my pocket.
Time to reward myself.
I stopped by a small Asian restaurant near my apartment—old signage, faded menu, sun-bleached photos of food you couldn't quite make out.
But the place was clean. Warm. Familiar.
And there he was.
"Wong," I called as I stepped inside, "stir-fried chicken noodles. Extra chicken, please."
The owner's son looked up from behind the counter and blinked through his glasses.
"Sure thing, big bro," he said, already standing. "Gimme a sec."
He pushed aside his math homework and headed into the kitchen, yelling something in Chinese I still didn't understand.
Wong and I went way back. I used to tutor him in high school—back when I thought I'd change the world with a degree and a few ideas.
His dad? Quiet guy. Ran this shop for years. Looked humble, but word was the man had money. One semester of Wong's tutoring fee paid my rent and meals for months.
The food here?
Top tier—well, according to my standards.
I never ate at fancy restaurants.
The closest I'd gotten to luxury dining was KFC—the place I used to take my mom to on payday.
I miss you, Mom...
I sat by the window and pulled out my newly registered phone.
The screen lit up with that familiar blue glow.
[Upgrade Point: 1]
Right. The system.
I stared at it a moment.
What could I even do with this?
Then I tapped the panel.
Let's see what this baby can do.