The sunlight sliced through the blinds like golden spears, painting harsh stripes across Riku's still-sore body. He groaned as he slowly sat up, his muscles aching despite the hours of rest.
[Daily Gacha Spin is available. Would the Host like to spin?]
Still half-asleep, he muttered, "Yeah, yeah, go ahead," and rubbed the crust from his eyes.
[Congratulations! You have received: Gifted Skill – Regeneration (Lv. 1)!][Regeneration (Lv. 1) – Gifted Skill]: Allows the user to heal broken bones, minor wounds, and deep bruises. Cannot regenerate destroyed limbs, damaged organs, or decapitation. This is a Gifted Skill and may level up with significant effort and use.
A sharp warmth spread across his limbs, melting away the pain. Cracks realigned. Skin stitched itself together. His entire body pulsed with a soft, golden afterglow.
Then it hit him.
"YES! LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOOO!" he screamed, leaping out of bed, doing a spin like a sports anime protagonist after winning nationals. "THANK THE GODS! THANK YOU, RNGESUS! THANK YOU, LADY LUCK! THANK YOOOOOUUUUUU!"
Panting from the adrenaline high, he dropped to his knees and held his arms up like Simba being raised on Pride Rock.
Moments later, he composed himself, stood up, and cracked his knuckles. "Alright. Let's get stronger."
He dropped straight into his routine—one he'd been ramping up ever since the Accelerated Development kicked in. The difference was obvious.
400 push-ups.350 sit-ups.600 jumping jacks.
By the end, sweat poured off him in sheets. His breathing was ragged, shirt soaked through, but he grinned.
'Feels like my body's adapting even faster... This skill's insane.'
After a cold shower that stung his still-sensitive skin, he stepped out and dried off, changing into a black hoodie and joggers. Then he plopped into his chair in front of a modest but decent gaming PC. The specs were nothing high-end, but enough to get by.
He pressed the power button. The familiar hum of fans kicked in. The monitor blinked to life.
And then—"...Oh fuck. I don't know the password."
He stared at the login screen in disbelief, then slapped his forehead. "Why couldn't one of my spins be 'Remember Passwords: EX-tier' or something?"
He sighed and reset the system, created a new user profile, and then a fresh email account. As he finished up, the earlier system reward came to mind.
'Expert Stock Market Trader (B+)... guess I should see what that does.'
He opened a brokerage website—one with a user-friendly interface and low trading fees—and instantly, something clicked. It wasn't just understanding... it was instinct.
Charts made sense. Price history lit up in his brain like neon signs. He could practically feel which companies were going to spike soon. It was like seeing into the future—not with perfect clarity, but with practiced experience.
He started small, investing in stable, low-volatility stocks.
It wasn't about instant profit. It was about building a foundation. His system-enhanced instincts told him these choices were solid.
After logging off, he headed downstairs where his mom was at the stove, humming softly.
"Morning," he said, voice warm.
She turned, smiling. "Well, look who's up. Slept better today?"
"Yeah... a little." He rubbed the back of his neck, guilty.
She plated up a steaming breakfast—eggs, miso soup, grilled fish, and rice—and set it in front of him.
"Where's Dad?" he asked, picking up his chopsticks.
"He had to leave early for work," she said. "You know how it is—hospital hours."
He nodded. "Right."
After they ate, he stood and slid his shoes on. "I'm heading out."
"Don't get into any fights," she said, giving him a stern look. "You might've scared off those thugs last time, but that doesn't mean you're invincible."
He gave her a sheepish grin. "I won't fight people, I promise."
As he stepped out into the sunlight, that grin shifted into a smirk.
'People, no. But cursed spirits? Different story.'
He poured cursed energy into his legs and launched forward, blurring through side streets and back alleys. He was heading to the place where it happened—the beatdown. The humiliation.
The place where the grade 1 cursed spirit almost broke him.
He stood there now, heart thudding in his ears.
Deep breath in.
'Okay... I've taken on grade 4, 3, and 2. I've survived a grade 1 before. But this time… I'm walking away the winner.'
He closed his eyes. The air thickened. His cursed energy spread out like a radar ping.
There.
That same pulse.
The spirit hadn't left. Maybe it was waiting for him. Maybe it knew he'd be back.
He stepped forward, and from the shadows, the cursed spirit emerged.
Its body was humanoid but warped—arms too long, head shaped like a cracked porcelain mask with hollow black eyes and jagged fangs jutting out like glass shards. Its torso was stitched together with coarse thread, like someone had tried sewing two corpses into one.
Its fingers twitched with anticipation.
So did Riku's.
They took one synchronized step toward each other.
And the rematch began.
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Okay I lied I has some ideas but has to rush the chapter so that I could get back to studying sorry if its not the usual I have math finals and I'm scared.
By the way Ali_Ougad this is 9 months before season 1 but he doesn't know that until it happens.