I immediately tensed up.
A demon.
A real one. Standing just twenty feet from me, black skin tight like armor, veins pulsing violet, and two curved horns jutting from its head like sick blades. Its grin was carved too deep, as if its face didn't know what "human" meant.
For a second, I froze. Every cell in my body screamed danger. Every instinct whispered death.
Then—
[WARNING: Trait interference detected.]
[Origin: ???'s Chip.]
My chest burned. My vision distorted.
A storm of rage built from nowhere, boiling in my gut like magma. My fingers trembled—not with fear, but fury. I didn't even know why.
The system tried to suppress it, but it was too late. Whatever this trait was—it was awake. And it wanted blood.
The demon hadn't moved. Just stood there. Head tilted, eyes unreadable, body unnervingly still.
I took a combat stance.
Then—
Gone.
It vanished.
Fast!
A blur slammed into me. Its claws met my shoulder. I twisted just in time to avoid dismemberment, but the edge still tore flesh.
Pain exploded down my side.
I hit the ground hard, breath knocked from my lungs. Blood soaked into the forest floor beneath me.
This wasn't a game.
This was real.
I scrambled to my feet, heart pounding. Where the hell was this in the game? No monster moved like that. No encounter ever made you feel like prey.
Then everything went black.
---
"You should really stop thinking about this world as a game, Axel."
A voice, casual and cruel, echoed through the darkness.
"You'll die with that mindset."
I turned. Nothing but void around me. Until—
A figure emerged, glowing like a soul without skin. Long flowing hair. Sexless. Colorless. Just white with a devilish grin.
"And that's why he sent me here," the voice said. "To fix you."
He?
"C'mon, don't play dumb. You already know you're not the real Axel. So why hesitate? What happened to the great Jack'O?"
That name hit me like a gut punch.
"The fun trickster. The high-risk lunatic. The guy who soloed three teams in the Galactic Invitational. That guy. Did you lose him?"
The figure floated closer. No eyes. Just a smile, too wide to be safe.
"I wasn't planning on intervening, but you frustrate me, y'know that?"
I stepped back. "Who are you?"
"No one. A whisper. A remnant. A dev comment left in the void," he chuckled. "You can call me Icarus."
Something about that name felt dangerous.
"This is the second anomaly you've faced, right? First Shadow... now me. You think this is a coincidence?"
He leaned in. "There are no coincidences in this world, Jack."
A chill ran down my spine.
"You still believe this world follows the plotline? The Hero Chronicles? Pfft. That script's been bleeding for years. Wake up."
I didn't reply.
Deep down, I knew he was right.
"You believed this world was a game. It isn't. From here on out, every scar you earn is real. Every death will be final. Build your strength. Or be forgotten like the real Axel was."
His grin widened as if stretching too far. "Anyway… I see you've already got my little present. That lovely system. Use it well. You'll need it."
"And that trait? The one twisting inside you? Use it too."
His voice turned cold.
"You've felt it. That killer instinct."
I clenched my jaw.
"Let it out. It's the only thing that can save you now."
His body began to dissipate like mist.
"I've said enough. Try not to bore me. After all… he vouched for you."
"Who is he?" I demanded. "And who the hell are you really?"
The last of his form faded into smoke.
"I already told you… I'm Icarus."
A chuckle.
"As for him... you'll meet soon enough. For now—go mad."
Darkness swallowed him.
---
When I came to—
I was standing again. Same forest. Same demon. My wounds were gone.
Icarus had healed me.
And given me one more shot.
Everything was silent. The demon stood across the clearing, head low, claws twitching.
But this time, I felt different.
My thoughts were clear.
My heartbeat slow.
My fingers didn't tremble.
I wasn't Axel anymore.
I was Jack'O—it was as if I had just now remembered something important that I forgot. My identity.
[TRAIT: ???'s chil — Activated.]
[Status: 50% Power output. Caution May cause strain on user Body.]
My vision dimmed. The world bled into monochrome. Color disappeared. Emotions dulled.
Everything became numbers. Calculations. Vectors. Velocity. Kill paths.
The demon lunged.
I moved first.
We clashed.
Sparks exploded from the impact as my blade met its claw. The shock rattled up my arm. Nerves screamed. I didn't flinch.
We exchanged twenty strikes in a second.
Dodge. Slash. Weave. Duck. Counter. Riposte.
No wasted motion.
Each step I took cut a possibility. Each attack was optimized murder.
I drew Ruby and fired a point-blank plasma bolt. The demon twisted mid-air and used a tree as a springboard, counter-charging like a beast.
Slash. Slash. Slam.
I ducked under a blow and fired upward. My twin pistols spat fire. Two rounds lodged into its chest, staggering it.
It laughed.
Not out of pain.
Out of joy.
I knew then: it was testing me.
My stamina dropped. My breathing got heavy. But I didn't stop.
I couldn't.
The trait kept feeding me data. Weak points. Strike patterns. Frame-perfect responses.
I became a machine of efficiency.
Steel and instinct.
But I was burning out.
My body was overheating. Muscles tore slightly with every motion. My lungs felt like iron bags. I wouldn't last much longer.
We separated.
Both of us panting.
Silent standoff.
Then—
As if out of instinct, my body moved. Not me. Not Axel. Not Jack.
The trait.
My arm lifted the sword, slow and deliberate.
The very air bent around the blade.
Blue flames erupted from it—ethereal, ghostly, flickering in unnatural wind. But they weren't just blue. They had black outlines. As if shadows crawled across the light.
I'd seen this once before.
In the trial.
That phantom samurai.
The sword moved on its own. Like a beast unsheathed.
My veins pulsed with heat. My muscles protested. My ribs cracked. But the trait didn't care.
The demon paused. A single step backward.
It knew.
Death was in the air.
My eyes glinted dull grey. Emotionless. Enraged. Empty.
Then—
It dashed.
I raised my sword.
And the world shattered.