The God's Peak Check-In

Chapter 5: Check-In at the Hidden Locus

The silver light faded, leaving only the smell of burnt ozone and two broken men on the floor. Adler didn't linger. With a thought, the Bastion of the Rejected dissolved into motes of light, retreating into his inventory.

​"I can't stay in the Iron District," Adler whispered. "The Association will lock this place down in thirty minutes."

​He smeared soot across his face, swapped his boots for mismatched sandals, and threw on a grease-stained cloak. In seconds, the formidable warrior vanished. In his place stood a trembling beggar—the kind of person the world habitually ignored.

​Hide in plain sight, he thought. When the enemy looks for a dragon, be the dust at their feet.

​Four hours later, the sun dipped behind the jagged skyline of the Greater Jakarta Sector, casting long shadows over the Old Quarter. This was a place of crumbling cathedrals and forgotten heroes. Adler navigated the labyrinth, his head low, selling the act with an occasional cough.

​His target loomed at the end of a cul-de-sac: The Temple of the First Flame. It was an architectural skeleton, its pillars choked by black ivy.

​"System," Adler muttered. "Is this it?"

​[Scanning... Ancient mana signature detected.]

[Location: The Temple of the First Flame (Historical Landmark).]

[Unique Check-in available. Reward: Permanent Attribute Points.]

​Adler felt a surge of adrenaline. In the e-sports world, stat-grinding was everything. Here, it was the difference between being a corpse or a king. He stepped into the nave, where a headless statue stood.

​"Hey! You! Trash-heap!"

​Adler stopped, letting out a weary sigh. "I'm just looking for a place to sleep," he said, his voice wavering.

​"Does this look like a shelter?" a gravelly voice barked.

Three men stood in the arched entrance—black market thugs. The leader, scarred from ear to chin, tossed a brass knuckle-duster in his hand. "This is our territory. The 'Sleeping F*e' is ten credits. You got it, rat?"

​"I have nothing," Adler said, his eyes narrowing. Three targets. Leader is arrogant. Left one is twitchy. Right one is heavy-footed.

​"Check his pockets," the leader commanded. "These kuli types always hide a few coins."

​"Look," Adler’s voice lost its tremor. "I’m in a hurry. Walk away, and you might actually eat dinner tonight."

​The thugs laughed. The leader stepped into Adler’s face. "You got a big mouth. Maybe I’ll take your tongue instead."

​[Host is at the epicenter. Would you like to Check-in now?]

​Yes. Check-in.

​[Check-in Successful!]

[Reward: +5 Strength, +5 Agility, +5 Perception (Permanent).]

​A jolt of electricity snapped through Adler’s nerves. His muscles densified; his vision sharpened until the dust motes seemed to slow down. The thugs felt the temperature drop, though they didn't see the light.

​"What are you looking at, freak?" the leader growled, raising his fist.

​Adler’s hand moved faster than the eye could follow. He caught the leader’s wrist mid-swing. The sound of the brass knuckles hitting Adler’s palm was followed by the sickening crack of bone.

​"Aaargh! My hand!"

​Adler didn't let go. "I told you to walk away."

​"Kill him!" the leader screamed.

​The twitchy thug lunged with a knife. Adler executed a perfect frame-dodge, caught the man’s wrist, and delivered a palm-strike to his solar plexus. The thug flew backward, hitting a pillar with a wet thud.

​The heavy-footed one roared, swinging a lead pipe. Adler spun in a low sweep, taking the big man’s legs out. As he hit the ground, Adler brought his heel down on the man’s elbow. Snap.

​Silence returned to the temple, broken only by screams. Adler stood in the center of the carnage, his rags fluttering. He wasn't even sweating. He walked over to the leader, who was crawling toward the exit. Adler stepped on his trailing leg, pinning him.

​"Please... spare me," the man whimpered. "I didn't know you were a Hunter."

​"I'm not a Hunter," Adler leaned down. "I'm just the guy you tried to rob. How many kulis did you bleed out for ten credits?"

​"I was just following orders! The Black Serpent Gang—"

​"I don't care about your gang," Adler interrupted. "I want you to remember this feeling. Being utterly helpless."

​A series of sharp cracks followed. Adler didn't kill them, but he ensured they would never hold a weapon again.

​As Adler walked back to the street, he checked his status. He felt taller, faster, more certain. He looked at the moon rising over the gleaming spires of the elite. Zephyr is up there, he thought, his heart a cold drumbeat. Thinking the past is buried.

​He pulled his hood up, but a new notification pinged.

​[Warning: High-Level Mana Tracking detected.]

[The Hunter Association has deployed a Seeker-Class unit to your coordinates.]

[Time to interception: 15 minutes.]

​Adler’s eyes narrowed. They were moving faster than he’d anticipated. He needed to mask his signature, or the comeback would end before it truly began.

​He broke into a run, his shadow stretching long against the cobblestones. The real game was starting.