MY SYSTEM LOADS 10 SECONDS LATE

Chapter 7 : The cellular limit

Chapter 7: The Cellular Limit

The neon glare of New Horizon City washed over Jaxen the moment he stepped out of the dungeon's armored decontamination transit.

Towering skyscrapers stretched so high they pierced the permanent layer of smog blanketing the upper atmosphere. Massive holographic advertisements floated between the buildings, displaying high-ranking corporate hunters endorsing luxury cars, mana-infused energy drinks, and premium dungeon insurance. Below, the streets were a chaotic sprawl of sleek electric vehicles, overworked blue-collar citizens, and low-ranking mercenaries loitering outside weapon repair shops.

Jaxen pulled his hood low, blending into the crowd of tired, dirt-stained utility workers leaving the raid sector. He walked quickly, bypassing the main mag-train lines, and slipped into a quiet, dimly lit alleyway behind a row of dilapidated cyber-clinics.

He slumped against the graffiti-covered brick wall, clenching his jaw as a sudden, sharp tremor ran through his right arm.

```

[WARNING: Cellular degradation approaching critical threshold.]

[Time Remaining to Allocate Stats: 14 Minutes, 22 Seconds.]

[Current Mana Core Load: 420% above safe threshold for unawakened flesh.]

```

A bead of cold sweat rolled down his temple. The power he felt inside the dungeon wasn't a free ride. His soul had leveled up to 42, but his physical muscle fibers, bones, and blood vessels were still those of a sickly, malnourished nineteen-year-old E-Rank scout. The raw mana from his newly expanded core was violently sloshing around inside his body like boiling water inside a fragile glass jar. If he didn't reinforce the jar immediately, it was going to shatter.

"Open stat interface," Jaxen muttered, his voice barely a whisper against the distant hum of city traffic.

A golden matrix of data unfurled before him.

```

[STATUS INTERFACE]

Name: Jaxen Vane

Level: 42 (EX-Rank Chrono-Anomaly)

HP: 110 / 110

MP: 120 / 4,200 (CRITICAL DISSONANCE)

[ATTRIBUTES]

Strength: 11 (E-Rank)

Agility: 14 (E-Rank)

Constitution: 10 (E-Rank)

Intelligence: 12 (E-Rank)

Perception: 25 (D-Rank)

[Unallocated Stat Points: 185]

```

In the standard global system, hunters usually received 5 stat points per level. Because of his EX-Rank overwritten class and the absurd 115-level gap bonus from killing the Crypt Weaver, the system had granted him a massive lump sum.

Jaxen looked at the numbers, his analytical mind kicking into overdrive. *If I dump everything into Strength or Agility to become an offensive powerhouse, my Constitution won't be high enough to survive the physical backlash of my own movements. If I put everything into Intelligence, my mana pool will expand even further, and my body will literally explode from the pressure.*

He needed a perfectly balanced foundation if he wanted to survive the long game. On W******l leaderboards, the protagonists who burnt out early were always the ones who neglected their defensive stats.

"Allocate 45 points to Constitution," Jaxen commanded mentally. "Allocate 50 points to Agility, 40 points to Strength, 30 points to Intelligence, and 20 points to Perception."

```

[PROCEEDING WITH ALLOCATION...]

[Warning: Physical restructuring will cause acute neurological discomfort.]

```

Before Jaxen could even register the warning, a white-hot spike of agony shot through every nerve ending in his body.

He collapsed to his knees on the damp pavement of the alley, his fingers clawing at the asphalt. He wanted to scream, but his vocal cords locked up as his muscular structure began to violently tear apart and knit back together in microseconds. His bones groaned, micro-fracturing and reforming with a density that resembled reinforced steel rather than human calcium. Impurities—dark, foul-smelling liquid waste—were forcefully squeezed out through his pores, staining his cheap leather vest.

The mana that had been rampaging through his veins suddenly found a home. Like water rushing into a properly engineered irrigation system, the 4,200 points of raw mana smoothed out, embedding themselves into his newly reinforced muscles and pathways.

The agony lasted for two agonizing minutes before receding like a dying tide.

Jaxen lay on the ground, breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling in slow, deep hollows. When he finally pushed himself up, he gasped. The world felt... lighter. The damp alley air, usually thick and suffocating, flowed into his lungs with absolute clarity. He stood up, and his movements were so fluid, so effortless, that it felt as though the gravity of the Earth had been cut in half.

He looked down at his hands. The calluses from years of hard labor were still there, but his forearms were leaner, the musculature defined and dense without looking unnaturally bulky.

He pulled up his status again.

```

[STATUS INTERFACE - UPDATED]

Name: Jaxen Vane

Level: 42 (EX-Rank Chrono-Anomaly)

HP: 560 / 560

MP: 4,200 / 4,200 (STABLE)

[ATTRIBUTES]

Strength: 51 (C-Rank Entry)

Agility: 64 (C-Rank Entry)

Constitution: 55 (C-Rank Entry)

Intelligence: 42 (D-Rank Peak)

Perception: 45 (D-Rank Peak)

[Unallocated Stat Points: 0]

```

*From E-Rank to solid C-Rank in a single evening,* Jaxen thought, clenching his fist. The raw physical strength pulsing through his fingers was intoxicating, but he quickly reined his emotions in. In New Horizon City, a C-Rank hunter was respectable—a middle-tier vanguard or a senior raid lieutenant—but they were still considered disposable assets by the true corporate giants who possessed S-Rank titans capable of leveling mountain ranges.

"I'm still too weak," he murmured to himself. "If Robert or the Dawn Horizon Corporation runs a deep biometric scan on me during the payout verification, they'll notice my cellular density changed. I need a way to mask this."

With his physical crisis averted, Jaxen turned his attention to the second notification that had been flashing in the corner of his vision.

```

[EX-RANK CHRONO-STORE AVAILABLE]

[Current Balance: 100 Chrono-Shards]

[Please select a category to browse.]

```

Chrono-Shards, according to the system's sub-text, were generated whenever he caused a "Fate Deviation"—meaning the more he used his 10-second rewind to alter the scripted deaths or events of the world, the more currency he would earn. Altering the sub-boss raid had net him exactly 100 shards.

"Open Category 2: Temporal Skill Books," Jaxen commanded.

The golden interface shifted, displaying three distinct, glowing ancient grimoires, each with a price tag attached.

---

### **[Chrono-Store: Skill Books Selection]**

* **Option 1: [Time-Stitcher's Eye] (Passive)**

* *Description:* Allows the host to see the "ghostly echo" of any entity's physical position 0.5 seconds before they actually move. Perfect for close-quarters evasion.

* *Cost:* 100 Chrono-Shards.

* **Option 2: [Delay Resonance] (Active)**

* *Description:* Upon striking an enemy, the host can store the kinetic impact of the blow, delaying the actual damage output by up to 5 seconds to catch the opponent off guard.

* *Cost:* 100 Chrono-Shards.

* **Option 3: [Chronostasis Veil] (Active/Masking)**

* *Description:* Temporarily locks the host's external mana signature and physical aura in a static temporal loop, reflecting whatever baseline data the host desires to public scanners. Lasts indefinitely unless deactivated or overwhelmed by an S-Rank inspection.

* *Cost:* 100 Chrono-Shards.

---

Jaxen stared at the options. The first two options were incredible combat skills that would make him an absolute terror in a duel. To see an opponent's move half a second before it happened? Or to delay his damage to bypass defensive shields? Any traditional hunter would kill for such abilities.

But Jaxen wasn't a traditional hunter, and he wasn't looking to get caught. If he couldn't hide his sudden jump in power, he would never survive long enough to use those combat skills in a real war. The corporate overlords would lock him away before he could even register for his next dungeon.

"Survival comes first," Jaxen said, his finger hovering over the third option. "Buy *[Chronostasis Veil]*."

```

[PURCHASE SUCCESSFUL: 100 Chrono-Shards Deducted.]

[Learning Skill: 'Chronostasis Veil' (Level 1)...]

```

A small, cool stream of silver energy drifted out of the interface, seeping into Jaxen's forehead. Unlike the agonizing stat allocation, this feeling was soothing, like a drop of cold water spreading across a dry leaf.

Instantly, Jaxen understood the mechanics of the skill. With a simple thought, he activated the veil, setting his public aura configuration to mirror his old, pathetic E-Rank self.

A faint, imperceptible shimmer of silver light ripples across his skin before vanishing. To the rest of the world, his dense C-Rank muscles and his massive 4,200 mana pool were suddenly cloaked behind a static illusion of flat, unawakened energy. Even if Captain Robert scanned him with an A-Rank device right now, all they would see was a baseline civilian.

A mechanical beep broke the silence of the alleyway.

Jaxen reached into his pocket and pulled out his cheap, cracked smartphone. A push notification from the Hunter's Association mobile banking network illuminated the screen.

```

[TRANSACTION NOTICE]

Sender: Dawn Horizon Corp (Raid Logistics Div.)

Amount: 15,000 Credits

Status: Settled (S-Rank Sub-Boss Completion Payout & Scout Hazard Bonus)

Current Account Balance: 15,240 Credits

```

Fifteen thousand credits. It was more money than Jaxen had earned in the past six months combined. It was enough to pay off three months of his sister's life-support machine maintenance at the central medical district.

But as Jaxen looked at the money, his eyes grew cold. He remembered the way the Vanguard knights had looked down on him. He remembered Garret's smirk as he pushed him into the spikes. Fifteen thousand credits was a fortune to a civilian, but to the Dawn Horizon Corporation, it was pocket change—the price of a single low-grade health potion.

"They think they bought my silence and my compliance," Jaxen whispered, slipping the phone back into his pocket.

He checked the time on his

phone. It was 8:30 PM. Visiting hours at the St. Jude Corporate Hospital ended at 9:00 PM.

Jaxen adjusted his hood, stepped out of the dark alleyway, and walked back onto the neon-drenched streets of New Horizon City. He had the money, he had the mask, and he had the power. Now, it was time to secure his anchor in this world before the corporations realized he was no longer their bait.