2026-02-09 19:53:17Eduardo jolted awake. He sucked in oxygen greedily, as if his lungs had just been crushed under concrete. The icy cold of seawater vanished, replaced by the musty scent of old paper, cheap tobacco, and a faint trace of perfume smoke. He was not at the bottom of the sea. He was inside an enormous room, stark white and spotless, yet cluttered with wooden shelves crammed full of absurd antiques.
There was a wall clock whose hands spun backward, bottles filled with pulsing light, even a mummified hand clutching a cigar.
“At last, my useless grandson finally wakes up. I thought you planned to sleep there forever.”
The voice was hoarse, rough, and painfully familiar. Eduardo turned sharply. Behind a rotten wooden cashier’s desk sat an old man in a shabby flannel shirt, thick dark sunglasses, and a crooked flat cap. He was calmly rolling tobacco with his calloused fingers.
Eduardo frowned, squeezing his still foggy mind. “Grandpa? Grandpa Antonio? Weren’t you… weren’t you dead ten years ago? Slipped in the bathroom? What are you doing here? Taking a break from being tortured by angels?”
The old man looked up, staring at Eduardo from behind his sunglasses with open disdain. “Watch your mouth, boy. I was an honorable man and I died honorably. There is no way God would send angels to torture me.”
Then Antonio clicked his tongue irritably as he looked Eduardo over. “But after seeing the condition of my useless grandson, I’m starting to think God really does hate me.”
Eduardo raised both eyebrows. “What’s wrong with me, Grandpa?”
Antonio’s eyes bulged. “What’s wrong with you?”
He immediately looked up at the ceiling, clutching his chest. “Oh Lord, if this is your punishment, I accept it. I accept it. Just give me extra patience to deal with this stubborn grandson of mine.”
“Why are you talking like that?” Eduardo asked, confused, stepping forward. The moment he stood up, the bed he had been lying on vanished.
“Shut up, boy. I gave you a family relic embedded in your blood, something that should have let you conquer the world,” Antonio snapped, scanning Eduardo from head to toe before shaking his head. “Instead, you followed me here in the most humiliating way possible. Thrown into the sea like plastic trash. You’ve completely ruined the family reputation.”
Eduardo walked closer. Strangely, he felt no pain in his body. “Where are we, Grandpa? Hell? Where are the demons? Where’s the fire everyone says is insanely hot?”
“Huh, hell?” The old man laughed derisively until he started coughing. “Even hell would be disgusted to take in a loser like you, Eduardo. This is the Equivalent Exchange Shop. Think of it as a waiting room for losers like you who still have grudges but no guts.”
Eduardo looked around, baffled. “I have guts. And what was that shop called again?”
“Yeah, yeah, you have guts. I’m sure even the devils in the deepest pit would laugh hearing that,” Grandpa Antonio snorted, lighting his cigarette and offering it to Eduardo. Eduardo hesitated, but Antonio glared at him, and in the end he smoked again after quitting for two years.
Antonio exhaled smoke and pointed to a wooden sign above his head. It read: “There Is No Free Lunch, In This World Or The Next.”
“Here’s how it works, my idiot grandson. I am the manifestation of a system embedded in our bloodline. Don’t ask why, Grandpa’s too lazy to explain,” he said, taking another drag.
“A system?” Eduardo echoed, smoking.
“In short, you get a chance to go back. You can become a king, a monster, you can stomp Claude’s head into pulp.”
At the mention of Claude’s name, Eduardo’s rage exploded again. He gripped the edge of the counter. “Send me back now. Claude is taking Emily tonight. I have to save my wife.”
“Patience, you mutt. Don’t cut off an old man when he’s talking. Didn’t your parents teach you manners?” Antonio barked, slamming an empty glass bottle on the desk.
Eduardo swallowed. For some reason, his grandfather’s anger was always terrifying and ridiculous at the same time. “You know my parents never had time for me and…”
Antonio raised his hand, shame flickering across his face. “Listen first. Everything here works on exchange. You want power, you pay. You want your life back, you give something in return.”
Eduardo fell silent. His heart pounded. “Pay with what, Grandpa? I have nothing left. Claude took all my money, my house was seized, my dignity was trampled.”
Antonio smiled, a deeply sly smile. “Money is trash here. What I want is something that makes you human. Memories, emotions, or lifespan. That’s the currency that works here.”
“What do you mean?”
“You really are a stupid grandson.” Antonio pointed at a red bottle on the shelf. “That’s called Bone Breaker. Drink it, and your bone density becomes harder than steel. You can punch through walls. But the price? Maybe you forget how your mother’s cooking tasted. Or you forget the first time you fell in love with your wife.”
Eduardo froze, the cigarette trembling in his fingers. “Damn… that price is insane.”
“The system is fair. Nothing is free in this world,” Antonio replied, staring straight at him.
“So choose. Die as a loser and let your wife and child become shared trophies, or rise and conquer that rotten world with an equal price,” Antonio said, patting Eduardo’s shoulder.
The world seemed to stop. Images of Emily crying in terror and Chloe screaming his name flashed like lightning. Eduardo clenched his fists so tightly his nails cut into his palms.
“To hell with morality,” Eduardo hissed, his voice low and venomous. “I don’t need beautiful childhood memories if I can’t save them today. Take whatever you want, Grandpa. Turn me into a monster or a devil. As long as I can send Claude to the deepest pit of hell.”
Antonio grinned wide, yellowed teeth showing. “Now that’s my grandson. I’m sick of watching you play the good guy and get crushed. Good people belong in graves, Eduardo. In the real world, only bastards survive.”
He reached beneath the counter and pulled out a necklace with a blood-red gemstone pendant that pulsed like a living heart.
“This is your starter artifact. The key to accessing the Equivalent Exchange system. Wear it, and you officially become my slave,” Antonio coughed, realizing his mistake. “I mean, the system’s slave,” he corrected, tossing the necklace.
Eduardo caught it. The stone was hot, unbearably hot.
“When you go back, your body will be reconstructed. You’ll have physical abilities above normal humans, for now. But remember, every time you activate a special skill, the system automatically collects its payment. Don’t complain if one day you forget your dog’s name or forget how to cry,” Antonio warned, suddenly serious.
“I don’t care,” Eduardo said firmly.
“One more thing.” Antonio leaned forward. “The world you’re going back to won’t be the same. Claude is just small fry. Once you step into this world, you’ll attract bigger monsters. Are you ready to lose everything for this power?”
“I already lost everything tonight on that pier,” Eduardo replied, his gaze hollow and terrifying. “All that’s left is a borrowed life for revenge.”
“Good. Now I believe you really are my descendant. Use your blood to activate the system,” Antonio said, handing him an ancient parchment that looked unnaturally thirsty.
Eduardo did not hesitate. He bit his thumb until it bled and pressed it onto the parchment. Instantly, the white room shook violently. Shelves of antiques collapsed and crumbled into dust.
“Your time is up, Eduardo. Your wife is terrified at home,” Antonio shouted amid the shaking. “Welcome back to the world of the living, you cursed grandson. Don’t die again too soon. ONE LAST MESSAGE!”
Eduardo looked at his grandfather, answered by Antonio’s heroic shout.
“KILL THEM ALL!”
Eduardo nodded, smiling coldly as he slipped the necklace around his neck. At once, the red gem flared and sank into the skin of his chest.
“AAARRGGHHH!”
He screamed as searing pain tore through him, like molten iron being forced into his heart. His veins blackened, bulging across his body.
His vision went white. The sound of the backward clock morphed into the roar of crashing waves. The pain in his shattered bones vanished, replaced by explosive energy threatening to burst free.
Emily… hold on. I’m coming.
A transparent notification appeared before his closed eyes.
[BLOOD CONTRACT SUCCESSFUL.]
[USER: EDUARDO (LEVEL 1).]
[PASSIVE SKILL ACTIVATED: BONE BREAKER (LV.1).]
[FIRST PAYMENT SELECTED: CHILDHOOD MEMORY OF A PET.]
ZING!
Something snapped inside Eduardo’s mind. An image of a golden retriever chasing him through a park faded, blurred, then vanished into a dark empty space. He did not feel loss, only a small hole he could not recognize.
Then the darkness shattered.
Eduardo’s eyes flew open beneath the crushing pressure of icy seawater. This time, he did not feel suffocated. He felt powerful. He felt hungry for blood.
The arm that had been broken now felt stronger than ever. He grabbed a pier pillar underwater, and with a single pull, the hardened wood cracked in his grip.
He kicked through the water with inhuman force, rocketing toward the surface like a torpedo meant to destroy anything in its path.
Tonight, the pitiful Eduardo had died. Something else had risen from the ocean floor.
His grandfather’s final words echoed in his ears.
“KILL THEM ALL.”
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Ch 13. The Lost Memory
The world in Eduardo’s eyes felt like an old television broadcast that had lost its signal. Everything appeared gray, flickering, and filled with a deafening hiss of static. He could feel violent jolts, his back slamming against the stiff car seat, and the sharp smell of gasoline mixed with sweat stinging his nose. “Boss! Hey, Boss Eduardo! Wake up, damn it! Don’t die in my car. I just cleaned the seats with my spit this morning!” Gord’s voice sounded very far away, as if it were coming from underwater. Eduardo blinked his eyes, which felt glued shut by thick fluid. He touched his own face. Wet. Cold. When he looked at his palm under the dim glow of the streetlight, the color was not red. It was black. Pitch black, like bitter squid ink that smelled of rotten copper. “Hah... hah...” Eduardo jolted upright, his body shooting up so fast that his head slammed into the roof of the battered sedan. THUD! “Whoa, easy, Boss! You just passed out for ten minu
Ch 12. Dawn Raid on the Gambling Shop
The shop house on Roses Street stood arrogantly among rows of shabby buildings that seemed to have long surrendered to poverty. Behind its steel doors, Claude's football gambling operation pulsed like a dark heart, pumping dirty money into the mafia boss's pockets while the surrounding residents struggled to survive. Eduardo shut off the engine of the stolen sedan two blocks from the target. Pale blue dawn light washed across the asphalt, casting long shadows that looked like the fingers of death. "I can't believe you actually brought me here, Boss," Gord whispered while struggling with the zipper of his jacket that had jammed again. His cursed luck at work as usual. "This place is the most heavily guarded spot in the district. These guys aren't the market thugs you shot earlier. These are Claude's elite crew. They carry real toys, not rusty pistols." Eduardo did not look at him. His red eyes, the result of exhaustion and the strain of the system, stared coldly at the
Ch 11. The Madman's Luck
Eduardo crouched in the shadows behind a pile of rotting wooden crates, his eyes narrowing as he watched the dark comedy unfolding before him. In the middle of a narrow alleyway that reeked of stale urine, a scrawny man with wild, unruly hair was being systematically beaten by three large thugs. The man was Gord. He looked more like a failed vagrant than a fighter. Yet, there was something about him that kept Eduardo from turning away. "Die, you dog!" one of the thugs roared, swinging a thick wooden plank directly at Gord’s head. Gord, who was busy trying to spit out a mouthful of bloody phlegm, suddenly slipped on a banana peel that had appeared out of nowhere. His body flopped to the side in a ridiculously clumsy motion. CRACK! The wooden plank smashed into the concrete wall exactly where Gord’s head had been a split second before. Even more absurdly, the plank snapped clean in two. "Damn it! This wood is rotted through with termites!" the thug cursed, st
Ch 10. The Predator's Preparation
Eduardo stood in front of the motel door, its paint peeling and flaking, staring at the loose change left in his palm. There were only a few coins and one crumpled ten dollar bill. Enough to buy two pieces of cheap bread, not enough to pay for his family’s shattered dignity. He placed the money on the small table beside the bed, right next to Emily’s limp hand as she slept. Eduardo did not leave a note. A ghost left no messages. “I’m going to get breakfast,” he whispered softly, more to himself than to Emily, who might have been trapped in another nightmare. Eduardo stepped out of the room, closing the door so gently that not even a click was heard, a new habit formed since the Shadow Step system had taken root in his body. He walked toward the stolen sedan parked beneath a dark, leafy tree. Once in the driver’s seat, Eduardo checked his weapon. Rico’s Glock 17. “Two bullets,” he muttered, staring at the nearly empty magazine. “One for the lock, one for the sur
Ch 09. The Breathing Ghost
The mirror above the motel sink was crusted with grime and split by cracks, reflecting a man Eduardo barely recognized as himself. He pulled off his shirt, which now looked more like a blood-soaked rag than clothing. Under the flickering neon light, his body was a horrifying sight. His skin was pale as porcelain, yet his muscles appeared denser, more pronounced, as if forcibly carved from within. On his left side was a stab wound from Jojo’s knife that had slipped between his ribs. It was no longer bleeding heavily. Instead, a clear fluid mixed with black flecks pulsed from it. “Damn it,” Eduardo hissed. He grabbed the rough motel hand towel, clenched it between his teeth, then poured cheap alcohol he had found in the stolen car’s first aid kit directly onto the wound. “ARGHH!!!” The scream was muffled by the towel. The pain was not just a surface sting, but like electrical current burning through his nerves. Strangely, in the middle of that agony, a system not
Ch 08. Flight Beneath the Rain
The SUV’s worn tires screamed as Eduardo wrenched the steering wheel, forcing the vehicle onto a muddy dirt path. Rain poured down relentlessly, as if the sky itself wanted to drown this city of sins. Inside the car, the atmosphere felt colder than the air outside. “Edu, slow down! You’re going to get us killed!” Emily shouted, clutching the handle above the door. Eduardo ignored her. His eyes were locked on the trembling rearview mirror. He had just seen the flash of police lights at a major intersection. They were looking for this car, a stolen vehicle already wrecked and soaked in blood. “We need to change vehicles,” Eduardo muttered. His voice was flat, emotionless, like a machine processing data. “How are we supposed to do that? We don’t have any money, Edu! We didn’t even pack enough clothes for Chloe!” Emily’s voice edged toward hysteria. She glanced back at their daughter, who was asleep from exhaustion, though her body jolted every time the car hit a potho
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