THE SOVEREIGN SYSTEM CHOSE ME

Chapter 8: Sovereign Class

The man came at low at Ethan, feinting toward his ribs before suddenly snapping a punch toward his jaw.

Ethan's body reacted before his mind could even process the attack, and some unfamiliar instinct made him lean his head back just enough for the man's knuckles to skim past his face instead of connecting. The punch missed by inches, but the force of it still cut through the air beside Ethan's ear with a sharp crack that made his stomach tighten.

He barely had time to react before the man's other hand drove forward, aiming a powerful palm strike straight at his chest.

Ethan twisted his hips on instinct and raised his forearm, catching the blow at an angle and knocking it away instead of allowing it to hit him directly. Even so, the impact sent a sharp burst of pain through his arm, and he stumbled backward until his leg struck the foot of the shattered hospital bed.

The man slowly straightened and began circling him, blood still running down the side of his face from the cut Ethan had given him earlier. A faint smile appeared on his lips as he watched Ethan struggle to stay balanced.

"You're fast for a Level One," he said, his voice calm despite the blood covering his face. "But speed won't help you much when you don't know how to use it."

Ethan hated that he was right.

Every movement his body made felt unnatural, as though the instincts guiding him belonged to someone else. The system had given him a set of combat abilities, but he hadn't earned them through years of training or countless hours of practice. He hadn't built his reflexes through experience. The knowledge had simply been placed inside his mind, and while it was enough to keep him alive for the moment, Ethan could feel how incomplete it was.

He was fighting someone who was eleven levels above him.

That difference was enormous.

Before Ethan could think of another way to deal with the situation, the sound of footsteps came rushing down the hallway outside. They were getting closer with every second, and Ethan immediately recognized that there was only one reason someone would be approaching the room so quickly.

The second hostile had arrived.

His stomach tightened as he tried to calculate his chances, but none of the possibilities looked good. He was already struggling against one enemy, and another was seconds away from joining the fight.

He needed a way out.

Either that, or a miracle.

Right now, he had neither.

The man suddenly lunged again, moving even faster than before. Ethan barely managed to twist away, but he wasn't quick enough to avoid the attack completely. The strike caught his shoulder instead of his throat, and a fresh wave of pain shot down his arm as the impact sent him stumbling into the wall.

His breathing became rough and uneven while sweat gathered along his hairline. The new endurance the system had given him was working beneath his skin, helping him stay on his feet despite the punishment his body was taking, but Ethan knew he couldn't keep this up for much longer.

Then a soft chime sounded inside his vision.

It was strangely calm compared to the chaos around him.

[Combat Experience Package: Adaptive Learning Active.]

[Analyzing opponent movement patterns...]

Ethan barely had time to read the message before the man attacked again.

This time, he saw it.

The enemy shifted his shoulder slightly before throwing a heavy cross toward Ethan's temple, but Ethan noticed the movement almost immediately. It was a tiny change, something he probably would have missed only moments earlier, yet his mind suddenly understood what it meant.

The punch was coming.

Ethan ducked beneath it just as the man's fist cut through the space where his head had been.

The enemy's balance shifted for a fraction of a second, leaving his ribs exposed.

Ethan reacted without hesitation.

He drove his fist straight into the man's side.

The impact echoed through the room with a heavy crack.

The man's breath left him in a strangled gasp as he doubled over, clutching his ribs. Ethan didn't give him a chance to recover. The instinct inside him screamed to keep attacking, and this time he trusted it.

He grabbed the front of the man's stolen hospital scrubs and used his momentum to drive him into the wall beside the door.

The man's face struck the plaster with enough force to crack it.

He staggered away from the impact and dropped to one knee, dazed and struggling to catch his breath.

Another notification appeared in Ethan's vision.

[Adaptive Learning: Pattern Recognition +1]

Ethan's chest rose and fell rapidly as he stared at the man. His hands were trembling slightly from the adrenaline rushing through his body, but he barely noticed.

He had finally managed to hurt him.

For the first time since the fight began, Ethan felt like he might actually have a chance.

Then the footsteps outside suddenly stopped.

They were right outside the door.

Ethan's brief sense of relief disappeared immediately.

He turned toward the entrance and raised his fists, his heart pounding so hard that he could feel it against the inside of his throat.

The door handle slowly turned.

Ethan prepared himself for another attack.

The door swung open.

But instead of another masked killer, a woman stepped into the room.

She was dressed in dark tactical clothing that looked completely out of place in the hospital. Her outfit was practical and fitted, with several pieces of equipment attached to her belt and chest.

Her eyes immediately swept across the room, and she calmly took in the cracked wall, the broken hospital bed, the man kneeling near the door, and finally Ethan standing in the middle of the room with his fists still raised.

For several seconds, she simply studied him.

Then one corner of her mouth lifted.

"Well," she said, her voice calm and slightly amused despite the destruction around her, "you're a lot more trouble than the file said you'd be."

Ethan didn't lower his fists.

"Who are you?" he demanded, keeping his eyes fixed on her.

The woman took another step into the room, but she made no attempt to attack him. Her gaze briefly shifted toward the injured man before returning to Ethan.

"Not your enemy, if that's what you're worried about," she replied, her tone becoming more serious. "At least, not tonight."

Her eyes settled on the man near the wall.

"Ansel here works for someone who doesn't like his contracts walking around after he's already been paid to make sure they don't."

The injured man, apparently named Ansel, gave a weak laugh despite the pain in his ribs.

"You're supposed to be their competition," he muttered, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth. "Not their cavalry."

The woman looked at him for a moment before giving a small shrug.

"Things change, Ansel," she replied, turning her attention back to Ethan, and the faint amusement disappeared from her expression. Her eyes became sharp and focused as she studied him from head to toe.

"Especially when I find out the target survived a headshot," she said quietly, "and woke up with a Sovereign Class signature powerful enough to make the entire east side of the city light up."