Just like I’d guessed, opening the Skill Shop was easy.
All it took was a mental click—smooth, intuitive. Gave me this weird déjà vu too. Reminded me of those old-school RPGs I used to grind, the ones with skill stores where you’d slap on buffs to give your character an edge.
Well… sort of.
This wasn’t exactly like the games I played. No PvP ladders. No rank resets. No teammates to carry or flame.
But the vibe? Close enough to trigger memories I didn’t realize I still had.
Then, the screen shifted.
>>> Welcome to the Trashfire Bazaar of Beginner Skills.
>>> You’ve got [5 FP]. Let’s pretend that’s impressive.
Great. Even the system had an attitude.
AVAILABLE SKILLS:
1. Snap Reaction – Passive
Your body flinches better now. Congrats.
+15% dodge chance when surprised.
[Cost: 2 FP]
2. Instinctive Grip – Passive
Prevents weapon/item drops from clumsy hands.
[Cost: 1 FP]
3. Street Read – Active (5s Cooldown)
Your sixth sense is just social anxiety in HD.
Highlights hostile intent in a 10-meter radius.
[Cost: 3 FP]
4. Panic Surge – Passive
Adrenaline go brr.
At HP <10%, gain +20% Speed and +10% Damage for 5 seconds.
[Cost: 3 FP]
5. Pocket of Holding – Utility
Look mom, I’ve got hammerspace.
Store up to 5 items in a mini dimensional pocket.
[Cost: 6 FP]
Unavailable: You’re broke.
6. Blinkstep – Active (30s Cooldown)
Instant transmission, peasant edition.
Instantly dash a short distance in your line of sight.
[Cost: 5 FP]
>>> REMINDER: Once chosen, skills are permanent.
So. FP meant Fate Points.
Figures.
I had 5 of them. Which, judging by the shop prices, wasn’t much. It told me exactly what I could afford—and more importantly, what I couldn’t.But there was more to FP than just skill shopping. Apparently, I could also use 3 FP to raise a stat by +1.
Three. For one stat point.
Goddamn. That was a hard pill to swallow.
Still, it wasn’t the only way to level up stats. There were also “stat points,” classic RPG style. Earnable, supposedly. Maybe through quests or trials?
I didn’t know. The system hadn’t handed me a walkthrough.
But that wasn’t the priority right now.
Because—I kid you not—I just noticed the timer at the top of my screen.
…Fuck.
>>> Reality: Paused
>>> External Timeflow: Halted
>>> Internal Timer: Active
>>> Reason: Skill Shop Access
Remaining Time to Choose:
[01:59]
[01:58]
[01:57]
...
Warning:
Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.
If the timer hits zero without a selection, the shop will close.
You will lose access until the next system milestone.
We call that a skill issue.
Hah. This system really knew how to get on my nerves. Still, two minutes was decent breathing room. Plenty of time to weigh my options. Five FP to spend. A murder-fox pacing circles around me.
Yeah. I didn’t need a damage boost. I needed an out.
Escape was priority number one.
But most of these skills weren’t even built for damage, now that I looked closer. If I had to guess, Panic Surge was the only one that gave any kind of offensive boost. And even then, it only kicked in when I was basically dying.
Yeah—hard pass.
The rest? Niche. Half-useful. Not my priority right now.
But the last one?
That one had potential.
[Blinkstep]
– Active (30s Cooldown)
Instant transmission, peasant edition.
Instantly dash a short distance in your line of sight.
[Cost: 5 FP]
Peasant edition?
Still—I bought it. Quickest decision I’d made in years, honestly. Probably helped that the skill description didn’t read like patch notes written by a sleep-deprived intern.
PING!
>>> Skill Purchased: Blinkstep
>>> Fate Points Spent: 5 FP
>>> Remaining FP: 0
Installing Skill...
Analyzing neural pathways...
Overclocking spatial awareness...
Injecting the juice...
...
>>> Installation complete.
Congratulations. You are now 500% more annoying to hit.
Use responsibly. Or irresponsibly. I don't care.
Just don’t Blink into a wall. Seriously.
Skill Info Unlocked:
[Blinkstep – Active]
Instantly dash a short distance in your line of sight.
Cooldown: 30 seconds
Energy Cost: Low
Notes: Causes minor visual distortion. May induce opponent confusion, jealousy, or rage.
>>> System Tip:
Use Blinkstep to dodge, reposition, flex, or vanish.
Skill permanently bound to your Fate.
>>> You are now slightly less likely to die horribly.
>>> You’re welcome.
A “skip” option appeared—skip the timer entirely. I didn’t click it. At least the countdown gave me time to breathe. To process. To ask myself what the hell I was even doing.
I’d just won a championship. Made myself a millionaire. Then boom—dead.
And now I am here. Yeah. Anyone would cry.
The timer hit zero. And the world snapped back to life. Leaves rustled. Insects chirped. The breeze started to brush my skin once again. The fox-beast twitched. Still frozen for a second. Then—movement. It resumed circling me, slow and steady… Its crimson eyes locked on. Fangs bared. Claws scraping against the earth.
“Starving, are we?” I muttered, forcing a grin. “Come on then. Let’s see if your legs are faster than your appetite.”
It was a taunt for him…But my knees?
Still trembling. Still threatening to buckle before it even lunges.
I had already positioned myself by the time it finally made its move. The moment its muscles coiled, ready to lunge, I was crouched low, prepared to bolt, my eyes sweeping the terrain for an exit.
Charging in a straight line would’ve been suicide. That thing wasn’t just fast—it was precise. If I ran predictably, it’d be on me before I took my second breath.
So I needed something unconventional. I spotted a thick, towering tree off to the side—its wide trunk and heavy shade made it the best cover I could ask for in this mess of a forest. It wasn’t much, but it might buy me a second. And a second was all I needed.
“See you,” I whispered, more for myself than anything else.
As I locked my gaze onto the tree, I feinted a sprint—one step forward, a shift in posture—and in that same instant, I triggered Blinkstep. The world folded for a heartbeat. My body jolted forward, a strange pull tugging at the edge of my awareness, like space itself had rubber-banded and snapped me ahead.
I reappeared behind the tree, lungs tight, body tense, hands pressed against the bark as I crouched low. My heart thundered in my ears, but I didn’t move.
The creature had turned, scanning the area with a sharp, deliberate gaze. It sniffed the air, claws raking across the ground with a low, irritated scrape. I could see the confusion in its movements. One moment, I was right in front of it—and the next, I was gone.
I didn’t mutter a word.
Didn’t cheer.
Didn’t breathe too loud.
Relief was there, sure—but it was buried beneath instinct.
I’d escaped the wolf. That much was real.
But just as I started slipping deeper into the trees, trying to disappear entirely, something caught the edge of my vision.
Not a beast. Not another monster.
A person.
A human.
Right there beside me—half-hidden beneath the same shadows, tucked beneath the roots of the tree. Watching the wolf. Just like I was.
Oh hell no.
Who the hell was this now?
He turned toward me slowly, his mouth hanging open in a perfect, stunned “O.”
Kid. Definitely a kid.
Same height as me. Maybe even same age—if my current body had an age I could measure yet. His skin was tanned, his hair a dark, messy brown that hadn’t seen a brush in days. He wore layered, earthy-toned clothes—roughspun tunic, ragged robe, and boots that looked eerily similar to mine. Except mine were halfway peeled off and clinging on by sheer desperation.
“H-How did you… do that?” he asked, voice quiet but curious. His eyes narrowed, brows pulling in. “I… I didn’t even see you move.”
I blinked.
Then I noticed what was in his hands.
A bomb.
Okay, maybe not literally, but it looked like one—round, jagged, metal-lined. My brain short-circuited for half a second wondering if he planned on hurling that thing at the wolf.
But before I could say a word—
PING!
The system chimed again.
>>> Survival confirmed.
>>> Reward Granted:
? +5 Stat Points (Unallocated)
? +2 Fate Points
>>> Stat Pool Updated.
>>> Fate Point Updated.
>>> Tip: You can assign Stat Points anytime… preferably before the next thing tries to eat you.
I had completely forgotten about the reward.
Not that it didn’t matter—but I figured I could deal with that later. Right now, priority number one was getting the hell out of this forest. Wolves, from what I remembered, had sharp senses—especially when it came to smell. And while that beast from earlier seemed to be gone… I wasn’t about to bet my life on “seems.”
Without wasting another second, I grabbed the kid’s hand and pulled him with me, slipping into a darker path beneath the cover of even denser trees.
The ground here was soft. Annoyingly so. Loose dirt, the kind left behind after heavy rains. Every step sank just slightly, as if the forest was trying to pull us back in.
After a few meters, I let go of his hand. He was keeping up on his own now.
It wasn’t really out of concern—I didn’t know this kid. Not even his name.
But still…
There was something about him. Something that tugged at the edge of my curiosity. He was, after all, the first actual human I’d seen since waking up in… wherever the hell this was.
The sound of our running footsteps eventually faded, swallowed by the stillness of the woods. All that remained was the soft rhythm of our breathing, each exhale forming wisps of pale smoke in the chilled air. It wasn’t quite winter, but it felt like it—crisp, biting, yet tolerable.
As we slowed our pace, the terrain began to shift. The ground grew firmer underfoot, and the trees grew denser—darker, too, with bark that looked almost charred. Up ahead, a narrow path stretched forward, a ribbon of dirt scattered with dry, brittle leaves.
“Um… did you, uh, learn from Raal Otis, by any chance?” the boy asked suddenly, his voice hesitant and unsure. He paused, then added, “It… it feels like something he’d teach.”
Raal Otis?
Who?
And more importantly—who the hell are you?
I didn’t respond, didn’t even glance back at him. I was too busy digging through the mental drawer labeled WTF is happening.
And then—
DING!
[Would you like to initiate memory reloading?]
> [ YES ] — Partial Recall
Regain emotional context, instincts, and core memories. May affect worldview.
[ NO ] — Continue fresh
Memories remain buried. Instincts only. Emotional baggage: silenced.
Warning:
Memory Recall may overwrite current perception, accelerate adaptation, or trigger identity conflict.
>>> Choose carefully, Tagen.
> [ Reload Memory ]
[ Decline For Now ]
Huh.
Credit where it’s due—this system had timing. For all its sass and snark, it showed up when it mattered. Frustrating as hell… but I had to admit, that deserved a slow clap.
Still, I hesitated. I’d already felt a little insane. Talking to myself? Fine. Talking to glowing menus only I could see? Less fine.
But ignoring it would be worse.
I clicked [Reload Memory].
Because knowing something about this kid— the history, anything, was better than being the clueless reincarnate awkwardly winging it through his first human interaction.
Yeah… this was the right call. Probably.
