blööh1

by bibidibabidiboom

obibij

48. ims

In Marvel as A Skeleton (Marvel AU SI/OC)

By: Berserk Asura

SYSTEM ISN'T SENTIENT*

What happens when a person from our world wakes up in a sewer as a Skeleton? What happens when he finds out he is in the ever expanding and dangerous world of Marvel?

This is what happened to Ethan Blackett. A normal science teacher in his previous life, he is now thrust into the world of danger and intrigue as a monster.

Now, armed with the ability to travel to dungeon World's, and a gacha system, Ethan starts his journey of evolving to the peak and becoming the strongest in the universe.

Status: ongoing

Published: 2024-06-24

Updated: 2024-07-21

Words: 66929

Chapters: 27

Original source: https/forums./threads/1171281

Exported with the assistance of

In Marvel as A Skeleton (Marvel AU SI/OC)

Introduction

Ch-1: Bones of a New Beginning

Ch-2: Roots of Renewal

Ch-3: Goblin's Gambit

Ch-4: Shadow Dance with Goblins

Ch-5: Clash of Bones and Orc

Ch-6: A dance of Death and Bones

Ch-7: A song of Flame and Bone

Ch-8: Path to Bonevoultion

Ch-9: Clash of Bones and Sorcery

Ch-10: Knowledge of Ascendency

Ch-11: Bones of Insight: Gathering knowledge

Ch-12: Rolling the Bones: A Gacha Gamble

Ch-13: Meeting a Legend

Ch-14: Acquisition of Estate and Engine

Ch-15: Embracing the Darkness

Ch-16: Abandonment of the Birth Place

Ch-17: Trying to Conquer the Light

Ch-18: The Unexpected Connections

Ch-19: Fortunes of War: Foundations and Frontlines

Ch-20: Heist for Power

Ch-21: Anomalous Upgrade

Ch-22: To England

Ch-23: Who are you?

Ch-24: Fear is the Mind killer

Ch-25: Crimson Eyes

Ch-26: Staking through the ship

Ch-27: Planning their Demise

Ch-1: Bones of a New Beginning

A/N: "x" this denotes speech. 'x' this denotes thought.

---

Ethan Blackett's eyes fluttered open, and he immediately felt a hard, cold surface beneath him.

He blinked a few times, trying to adjust to his surroundings, and realized he was lying on a damp concrete floor.

The air was cool and strangely devoid of any stench. As he pushed himself up, his hands slipping slightly on the slimy ground, he noticed his surroundings were in stark black and white.

He glanced around, confusion washing over him. It seemed like he had woken up in a sewer.

The walls, usually cloaked in shadows, were clear in their grayscale detail.

He spotted a group of rats scurrying away from him, their tiny feet pattering on the wet surface. Their fur was a dull gray, blending seamlessly with the colorless environment.

Ethan slowly stood up, feeling a chill creep up his spine. The absence of smell struck him as odd, which made him focused on his breathing and he discovered, with a growing sense of dread, that he wasn't breathing at all.

His hands flew to his chest in panic, and his eyes followed, widening in shock. His hands weren't normal-they were skeletal. His chest, his entire body, was just bones. The sight was both horrifying and surreal.

As a science graduate, Ethan was perplexed. How could he be standing and conscious in this body?

He should have felt something, maybe fear or excitement.

Instead, he felt an eerie calmness, a rational clarity he had never experienced before. His ADHD had always scattered his thoughts, preventing him from focusing for long.

Yet now, in this bizarre state, he felt a sharpness of mind, a focused calm that was as unsettling as it was inexplicable. He felt more in control, more rational than he ever had, even more than when he immersed himself in his study of science or teaching. Even more than when he read novels, comics or watched movies and TV shows.

The contradiction between his skeletal form and his composed mind left him deeply confused, wondering what had happened to his body and why he felt this strange serenity.

Ethan then looked into the sewer water, hoping that his monochrome, or perhaps night vision, would let him see his face.

To his horror, it did. A skull stared back at him from the murky water, its eye sockets flickering with blue flames.

Desperate to understand, he tried to open and close his non-existent eyes. The blue flames expanded and contracted, altering his vision.

Instead of the oval interference caused by human eyelids, squinting made his vision focus sharply on one point, enhancing his clarity but losing his peripheral vision.

When he opened, or rather, increased the flame size of his eyes, he could see everything around him normally, though only in black and white.

As he explored his new body and the bizarre clarity of his mind, a sudden sound broke the silence. It echoed in his non-existent ears like the pop's of party poppers being used, jolting him from his intense self-examination.

The sound heightened his confusion and curiosity, pulling his attention away from his skeletal form and toward the source of the noise.

And then a blue-colored holographic chibi robot appeared in the corner of his vision-well, not completely in the corner as it took up nearly a quarter of his field of view.

It waved its hand and said, "Oh, hello there! Looks like you're up and about already. Sorry, it took me some time to reach you; I was getting some special instructions… ahem! Anyways, I'll get to the point…"

Ethan wasn't as shaken by this new revelation as he thought he should be. It felt like his emotions had been dampened. Even if they hadn't, he wouldn't have freaked out; maybe he would just feel a lot of excitement.

The holographic robot paused for a second, its little eyes squinting as if thinking something, then they went back to being full circles, and it spoke with exaggerated expressions, "Wow! You're not freaking out… not at all, huh!" It said this with a questioning look, even a few question marks appearing above its forehead.

Ethan kept silent, letting the holographic robot speak and processing whatever information it was giving.

After all, it was probably going to explain things, so why make its explanation redundant by questioning it first? Maybe it would provide more information by itself than he could get by questioning it.

Being a teacher, he knew how annoying it was to be interrupted in the middle of a lecture with questions about the topic he was just going to explain.

It wasn't like he hated questions-asking questions after the explanation was one thing-but asking them before was just annoying.

Then the robot shrugged and said, "Guess this should be easy then… Alright! So, first things first, congratulations! You've been transmigrated!"

Party poppers flew around, filling Ethan's vision. He didn't feel apprehension or confusion; instead, he felt a strange clarity. This new information simply made sense of what was happening to him.

However, the poppers blocking his vision were annoying, so he tried to swat them away with his bony hands. They just passed through the hologram without any effect, making him feel foolish.

The robot made an apologetic expression and swatted away the poppers. "Sorry! Sorry! I guess that was rude… Well! Seeing how easily you're taking all this," it added, turning its head to the side and whispering, "and not crying on the floor like an idiot," it then resumed in its normal voice, "I will go ahead with my explanation."

The robot paused, then a pair of spectacles appeared on its eyes and a stick pointer in its hands, along with a blackboard behind it.

Ethan raised his non-existent eyebrows at the robot's presentation style, thinking to himself, It's been quite some time since I was the one being taught.

"So, you're participant number ZYA#001," the robot said as the text appeared on the blackboard where he pointed.

"Seeing your wisdom stats, I can guess you might have a vague idea of what that means," the robot added, crossing its tiny arms in a questioning manner.

Ethan nodded, processing the information about stats, and for the first time in his new body, he spoke. "The number-" His voice, even at normal strength, sounded like the whisper of ghosts accompanied by the clacking of teeth, probably enough to make a grown man piss his pants if he heard it alone in the middle of the night. The eerie sound made him pause before continuing.

He said, "The number suggests that I'm the only participant or maybe the first. But the alphabets, seeing that they are in a descending order, must also mean numbers, though I don't know what they signify. I can guess that Z means 26, Y means 25, and A means 01. So, I suppose that means whatever the first part indicates, it means I'm 262501st."

The robot clapped, its expression forming a sarcastic smile. "Bravo! You're good at basic reasoning. Being a teacher has its perks, huh. Or, so you think. Sike!"

That hurt slightly but his focus was on something else. Knowing that the holographic robot was aware of his past life, Ethan understood that it probably knew more about his past life, maybe even everything.

Yet, he didn't care at this point. After all, he had transmigrated and become a skeleton; there wasn't any chance of going back to his family, at least not now.

As he thought about his family, memories surfaced. His hard-working father and mother, both teachers, and his sister, who was also a teacher.

Before being transmigrated here, he had been just 23 years old, his sister, 21. He knew that his disappearance from his old world would have left his family missing him terribly. But, oddly, his heart didn't miss them as much.

It wasn't because they didn't love him or that he didn't love them. It was just that he had never been used to feeling the sensation of missing home or his parents.

Even when he was young and went away to study, he never really missed his family. He understood that his psyche was not normal, not in his previous life, and certainly not now that he had become a skeleton with flaming blue eyes.

Ethan's new form didn't change his emotional detachment, but it did bring a peculiar clarity. He realized that his current state was far removed from the life he once had.

The robot's knowledge of his past seemed almost trivial in the face of his new reality. His skeletal body, with its eerie blue flames, felt more like a fresh start than a curse.

"… Earth to ZYA#001. Hello! Snap! Snap!" The robot snapped its tiny fingers, the sound ringing in Ethan's non existent brain, jolting him out of his thoughts.

"Now, now, don't go wandering down memory lane just yet. We still have a lot to discuss, and by discuss I mean, me speaking and you listening," the robot explained, gesturing animatedly while pacing around in Ethan's vision.

"So, let's look at ZYA. You were right, it's associated with numbers just like you deduced, but what you said is nowhere close. Our system is far more efficient than yours, but you won't be able to understand it… So, let's just focus on what those alphabets convey… Dun! Dun! Dun!… Are you excited for the big reveal?" The robot made exaggerated expressions and sound effects.

Ethan just nodded, thinking, 'Why does this guy beat around the bush so much?'

Seeing the lack of excitement, the robot sighed and returned to a more normal demeanor. "Alright! I can see that you're not interested in my presentation. So, I will cut to the chase. The alphabets represent universes… yeah, I don't see you being surprised. C'mon, I am not that bad at presentations, am I?" The robot made a sad face, its shoulders drooping.

Ethan rolled his non-existent eyes and said, "It's not you, buddy, it's me. I don't get easily surprised-a side effect of watching too many horror flicks."

That seemed to restore some confidence to the holographic robot. "Oh, if that's the case, then I guess it's… alright? Anyways, moving forward… the alphabets represent all the different worlds that we operate in, and by we, I mean our creator and us guides. The one who made us, our own personal One Above All. Don't confuse him with the Marvel one. Also, on that note, the world you've been transmigrated to is the Marvel world and you are the first and only participant of this universe. By the way, this universe is a perfect copy of the original. After all, you can't really cause chaos in the original ones with their own personal gods watching over them."

'So, I am transmigrated in the Marvel world by some extremely powerful entity which rules thousands of universes… That's not worrying at all.'

Ethan felt a mix of intrigue and excitement. The idea of being in the Marvel universe was both fascinating and slightly overwhelming for him.

The robot's cheerful demeanor contrasted sharply with the gravity of the situation, making the whole experience surreal.

As Ethan quickly sifted through the robot's rambling, clarity began to dawn on him about his bizarre situation.

Yet, the holographic robot wasn't done. It strutted around, hands flaring in exaggerated motions. "But don't you worry," it said with an almost theatrical flourish.

"Being a copy doesn't mean everything here isn't authentic. Everything is real, the gods, the people, everything. The changes you bring to this world are real too, so don't go thinking the people here are just NPCs. They are not. Make that mistake, and you'll be canceled based on public opinion for not being interesting enough."

Ethan's mind raced as he tried to process this jumble of information. The robot's last line made him freeze. He spoke again, voice tinged with confusion and urgency. "What do you mean by 'public opinion'?"

The robot halted, a sly grin spreading across its face. "Oh! You caught that, didn't you? Well, did you think this transmigration of yours was free? No, no, no, no. It comes with a slight fee, the fee of providing entertainment to the public."

Ethan raised his hand instinctively. "What do you mean by public? Who is the public?"

The robot glanced at his raised arm, then back at Ethan. "You can drop your hand; this isn't a classroom. As for the public… the most I can say is that they are extra-dimensional creatures. They can neither live nor interfere with this dimension. They are basically just spectators of your story. They can't do anything to you, but their opinion still matters very much for the survival of this world and you."

Ethan felt a wave of anxiety and curiosity. He was about to raise his hand again but stopped. Instead, he asked, "So, they are just observers, and like a TV show, I need to maintain the viewership by keeping things interesting."

The robot snapped its fingers and pointed at him, eyes gleaming. "Bingo! Man, it feels good to talk to someone with high wisdom stats."

Ethan's non existent heart pounded as he absorbed the revelation. The pressure of being watched by unseen, otherworldly beings was both thrilling and terrifying.

The idea that his actions were under constant scrutiny, that his very existence here depended on his ability to entertain, sent a chill down his spine.

He knew now that he had to navigate this new world with both care and boldness, all while keeping his unseen audience captivated.

At that, Ethan asked, "About that… would you mind telling me about these stats you're talking about?"

The robot snapped out of its dramatic reverie, a hint of embarrassment coloring its voice. "Sheesh! I forgot about that. Alright! Quick summary," it said, clearing its throat.

Turning towards a blackboard that had magically appeared, the robot tapped its pointer stick on the surface. "There are mainly eight stats that affect all aspects of your life, remember every stat is affected by another, so don't just go dumping all your points in one or two," it explained.

As it spoke, the stat names and their brief descriptions appeared in neat, chalky letters on the blackboard:

Strength: affects how much you can lift, throw, or how hard you can punch.

Agility: affects your overall speed and thus your power.

Endurance: affects your Health and defense. Also your health regeneration.

Intelligence: affects your Mana and calculative abilities. Also your Mana regeneration.

Wisdom: affects your ability to think and make logical and rational decisions in any situation along with your perception.

Dexterity: affects how perfectly you can control even the smallest part of your body along with your reaction speed.

Charisma: affects your likability to sentient beings and also your ability to convince or intimidate others.

Luck: affects your luck, like the ability to get better loot from a dead body you killed or being overall lucky.

"A normal human's average stat is 10 in every aspect except Luck, which is 1," the robot added, its voice more composed now.

Ethan watched intently, his mind racing to absorb all this new information. The robot then turned to him, a slight smile on its face. "As for your stats, here," With another tap on the blackboard, the information changed to display his stats.

STR: 10

AGI: 08

END: 12

INT: 11

WIS: 16

DEX: 06

CHA: 01

LUC: 10

"Why is my Charisma so low?" he muttered, more to himself than to the robot.

The robot, ever-attentive, chuckled. "Maybe you haven't smiled enough since you got here," it teased lightly. "But don't worry, you can improve your stats through leveling up, except for luck. Your Wisdom is pretty high, which is good. It means you're good at thinking things through."

Ethan ignored the robot and looked at the information, pondered for a second, and then spoke, "So I guess, due to me being a skeleton, my Strength and Endurance are higher than an average person while my Agility, Dexterity, and Charisma are lower… Also, my Luck is exceptional. Why is that?"

The robot looked at him with a proud smirk on its digital face. "You have been transmigrated into a new world teeming with unlimited possibilities, along with special powers, a new body, and me as your first-time guide-the complete package. How many people can say that, huh? I would call that lucky. Wouldn't you?"

Ethan sighed silently, partly in understanding and partly at the weird antics of his apparent guide. "Yeah, I guess I would… As for you being my guide," Ethan started, his tone slow and considering, "how long would that be, if you don't mind me asking?"

The holographic robot waved its hand in front of its face dismissively. "No, no, I don't mind." Then it turned to the side and whispered, "I do!" before continuing normally, "I am just here to show you the ropes. I will be gone after your first dungeon delve."

Ethan caught onto this new piece of information, feeling like a kid once again, asking questions to his teachers. "What do you mean by dungeon delve? What's that?"

The robot was about to explain but suddenly stopped, nodding a few times as if listening to something. "Alright! So, new orders… due to too much info dump, it's getting boring, and because we are just getting started and need to keep it interesting, you will be thrown into your first dungeon instantly. With your wisdom stats, I think it wouldn't be a problem for you to learn by experience. Also, call out [STATUS] in your mind, and the system assigned to you will appear. You can learn its functions as you go along. Now… [Initiate Dungeon Delve]."

With that, the blue holographic robot vanished from Ethan's sight, and darkness descended…

---

A/N: I wrote this under the influence of 200mg caffeine at midnight. Hope you appreciate it.

Ch-2: Roots of Renewal

Light returned to Ethan's vision, but he didn't have to squint to adapt to it. For some reason, he could see the vibrant colors in his surroundings, which was different from the black and white vision he had in the sewers.

It seemed that he had changed location after the guide said [Initiate Dungeon Delve].

Instead of the damp sewer where he had woken up, he seemed to be standing in the middle of a forest.

His new surroundings were filled with lush grass and towering trees.

A cool breeze hit his naked skeletal body, and Ethan shivered. 'I can still feel things as normal, for some reason. Except for smell and probably taste too,' he thought, his mind racing to process the sudden change.

He looked around, taking in the details. The tall trees swayed gently with the wind, their leaves rustling softly. The green grass felt springy under his bony feet. The air was alive with the sounds of birds chirping and insects buzzing, creating a symphony of life that suggested he was in some kind of jungle. Maybe this dungeon was related to hunting animals. Who knew? But he felt a growing sense of anticipation.

Wait! Ethan stopped himself, feeling a growing sense of anticipation inside him. This realization hit him like a bolt of lightning-the emotion dampener was gone. Maybe it was something for first-timers so they wouldn't freak out. He wouldn't have freaked out in the first place, but still, it felt good being able to feel his emotions completely.

He took a deep breath, or at least the skeletal equivalent, and allowed himself to revel in the moment. "This is incredible," he said aloud, his voice filled with awe. "I can feel the breeze, hear the sounds of nature… It's all so real."

Ethan's eyes roamed over his new environment, marveling at the vivid colors and the intricate details of the flora around him. The leaves were a rich green, the bark of the trees rough and textured. He noticed small flowers peeking out from the grass, their bright petals adding splashes of color to the verdant landscape.

The anticipation grew within him, a thrilling sense of adventure bubbling up. 'So, this is the dungeon, huh?' he mused. 'Feels more like a paradise than a dungeon. But I guess that's just the start.'

As he explored further, Ethan's mind wandered back to what the guide had said before disappearing and called out [STATUS] in his mind.

Instantly, a virtual screen materialized before him, hovering in the air like a holographic game console. His eyes widened in astonishment as he took in the sight. The screen displayed several tabs:

[Status]

[Skills]

[Inventory]

[Mission]

[Gacha]

[Settings]

Ethan reached out tentatively, his fingers brushing against the glowing interface. It felt cool to the touch, almost ethereal. He selected the [Status] tab, and his personal statistics appeared in detail, just as the robot had shown him earlier, along with some new details.

[STATUS]

Name: ETHAN BLACKETT

Level: 1 (EXP: 0/100)

Health (/R per hour): 120/120 (12)

Mana (/R per hour): 110/110 (11)

STAMINA (/R per min): N/A (N/A)

STR: 10

AGI: 08

END: 12

INT: 11

WIS: 16

DEX: 06

CHA: 01

LUC: 10

He spoke to himself, his voice barely a whisper, "So this is real… I really am in another world, with stats and everything." He chuckled, his ghastly voice causing birds to fly away. "Okay, Ethan, you can do this. Just think of it like a game. A very real, life-or-death game. It should be fun!"

Determined to understand his new reality, he selected the [Skills] tab. The screen changed again, this time showing a list of abilities, most of which were grayed out, indicating they were locked. However, a few were accessible along with something extra:

[Passive Skills]

{Minor Night Vision}: Lets you see in the dark. Passive available to creatures of the Dark.

[Active Skills]

{Bone Shield}: Level 1

Cost: 10 mana

Duration: 1 hour

Cooldown: 5 min

Summon a temporary shield made of bones to block attacks. It can absorb 50 points of damage before it disintegrates.

{Skeletal Repair}: Level 1

Cost: 10 mana

Duration: Instant

Cooldown: None

Use mana to repair minor damage to your bones. Exchanges 10 mana for 10 health.

[Species Traits]

Doesn't Breathe; Unlimited Stamina; Doesn't Eat or Drink; Doesn't Sleep; High Pain Threshold; Immunity to Disease; Immunity to Mind Control; Immunity to Poison; Indomitable.

[Perks]

1. Evolutionary: Special beings with the power to create custom evolutionary path, not available for normal monsters.

2. Calm Mind: Able to make calm and calculative decisions in almost any circumstance.

…

Ethan read the descriptions with interest. 'So the monochrome vision was a result of the passive skill of my species. That's quite good.'

'Bone Shield and Skeletal Repair… I guess these will come in handy. And if levels are denoted, then it means they can become stronger.'

'As for species traits… Unlimited Stamina feels like a cheat, but if other undeads have it too, then I guess it's balanced? Although… it feels like being a skeleton is better than being a human.'

'Evolutionary… I can understand the basics but, I will ask the guide about this.'

With the passives and traits he got from being a skeleton, he felt a small surge of confidence. Maybe being a skeleton wasn't so bad after all.

Next, he tapped on the [Inventory] tab. The screen shifted, displaying a 4x4 grid of empty slots, except for the first one which was filled

In the first slot, there was an icon of the rusty sword. Ethan clicked on that icon, and the sword vanished from the slot, appearing instantly in his hand.

"I guess this is where I keep my items. Makes sense," he muttered.

The weight of the sword felt surprisingly balanced, and Ethan's mind raced back to the countless hours he had spent watching fencers and HEMA (Historical European Martial Arts) practitioners on YouTube.

Their fluid movements, precise strikes, and defensive parries had always fascinated him. Now, he was in a position to put that knowledge to the test.

Ethan took a deep breath and adopted a guard stance, mimicking the poised readiness he had seen in those videos.

He stepped forward, thrusting the sword out in a straight lunge, imagining an opponent before him. The blade sliced through the air with a satisfying whoosh.

"Okay, just like in the videos," he murmured to himself. "Stay balanced, keep your footwork steady."

He pivoted on his feet, executing a horizontal slash followed by a quick retreat. His movements were a little clumsy, but he continued for a few more seconds.

Ethan felt a thrill coursing through him as he continued to practice. He spun, bringing the sword around in a tight arc, the blade cutting through the air with precision.

Then, he stopped, catching his non-existent breath and examining his handiwork. "Looks like watching those videos for fun actually paid off," he mused aloud, a hint of pride in his voice. "Obviously, I'm not anywhere near their skill level, and my dexterity isn't exactly making me the smoothest fighter. But still, it's better than nothing."

He then moved on to the [Mission] tab. A new screen popped up, displaying his current objectives:

{Primary Mission}: Survive your first dungeon delve.

{Secondary Mission}: Find and defeat the dungeon boss.

{Optional Mission}: Discover the hidden treasure room.

{Time Limit: 7 days}

{Rewards}: 50 coins, Newbie Package, 1 Level UP, [Initiate Dungeon Delve] -[End Dungeon Delve] skills.

Ethan's heart pounded as he read through the missions. "Alright, survive the dungeon, find the boss, and maybe some treasure. Got it," he said, feeling a surge of excitement. "No pressure, right?"

Curiosity led him to tap on the [Gacha] tab next. The screen shimmered and revealed a colorful array of items, equipment and skills, all arranged in a spinning wheel.

Weapons glinted, armor pieces shone, and potions glowed, along with the names of some skills. At the bottom, a big button with a sparkling price tag of 50 coins seemed to dare him to take a chance. It was a classic gacha-style wheel.

Ethan's excitement quickly turned to frustration. "I don't have any currency yet," he muttered, frowning at the empty balance displayed at the top. "Looks like I'll have to earn it through the missions." The disappointment was clear in his voice, but he couldn't help but feel a little more determined.

Finally, he opened the [Settings] tab. The options were surprisingly detailed, allowing him to adjust various aspects of his interface and even toggle some gameplay elements. He left everything as it was for now, not wanting to mess with settings he didn't fully understand.

With a deep breath, Ethan closed the virtual screen, feeling a newfound sense of purpose. Now that he had some understanding of his capabilities and objectives, he needed to explore his surroundings and see what this dungeon entailed. He gripped his rusty sword tighter and took a step forward toward the jungle in front of him.

The cool breeze ruffled the leaves overhead, and the rustling sounds were almost soothing. Ethan scanned the area, noting the tall trees with their dense canopies and the vibrant green grass beneath his feet. The air was rich with the sounds of life: birds calling to one another, insects buzzing in the undergrowth, and the occasional rustle of unseen creatures.

He began to walk, each step deliberate and cautious. His skeletal feet made soft, crunching sounds on the forest floor. "This place is incredible," he murmured, his voice filled with awe. "It feels so alive, so different."

As he ventured deeper into the jungle, Ethan's mind buzzed with thoughts of his missions. "Survive the dungeon, find the boss, and discover the hidden treasure room," he repeated to himself. "Sounds simple enough in theory. Let's hope it's not too complicated in practice."

-

Ch-3: Goblin's Gambit

Ethan chose a direction and moved forward, the underbrush crunching softly beneath his feet. As he ventured deeper, he began to notice scratch marks on the trees, claw-like grooves etched into the bark.

The air grew thicker with tension, and soon, delicate silken webs appeared, draped between branches like ghostly decorations.

He stopped in his tracks, his mind racing. "Spiders," he muttered, feeling a shiver run down his spine. He could almost sense the skittering legs and beady eyes lurking just out of sight.

'Nope, nope, nope, nope… not dealing with an army of spiders.' The decision was immediate and clear. With a determined turn, he headed back to the clearing.

Soon, he was back at the starting point, Ethan paused to catch his breath. "Alright, let's try a different direction," he said to himself, his voice steadying as he gathered his resolve. This time, he chose a path that veered directly opposite to the spider-infested area.

As he moved forward, the forest seemed to close in around him, the trees taller and the shadows deeper. Suddenly, he spotted movement up ahead. Peering from behind a tree, he saw them-goblins.

They were small, green, and about four feet tall, with drooping ears and wearing rags made from the pelts of small animals.

Ethan's non existent heart pounded as he ducked behind a tree to observe them. One goblin was gnawing on a raw white rabbit, its lips smeared with red blood, revealing spiky teeth. The other goblin stood guard, its eyes darting around as it clutched a crude wooden spear.

"This is not good," Ethan whispered to himself, his mind racing. He recalled the mission panel: survive the dungeon, find and defeat the boss.

But there were different monsters in different directions. Did this mean there were multiple bosses?

Or was he supposed to eliminate all the monsters to find the boss? The thought made his non-existent stomach churn. "That's impossible," he muttered, frustration creeping into his voice.

He leaned against the tree, trying to think. In the meantime he decided to read the missions again.

Ethan called out [STATUS] in his mind. The familiar blue screen materialized before him, glowing softly. With a quick mental command, he clicked the [Mission] tab to recheck his objectives.

The screen displayed the missions again:

{Primary Mission}: Survive your first dungeon delve.

{Secondary Mission}: Find and defeat a dungeon boss.

{Optional Mission}: Discover the hidden treasure room.

{Rewards}: 50 coins, Newbie Package, 1 Level UP, [Initiate Dungeon Delve] - [End Dungeon Delve] skills.

Ethan read it carefully, his eyes narrowing in concentration. "So, I need to kill a boss, not the boss?" he muttered under his breath. 'Meaning there could be even more groups of monsters in other directions. But at least I would have to only kill a single boss.'

The realization was daunting but clear. He would have to choose a group of monsters, fight his way through them, and defeat the boss monster that would eventually appear.

Understanding this, he closed the tab, the screen vanishing like mist. He stood still for a moment, weighing his options. His mind raced through what he knew about the creatures he had encountered so far.

The scratch marks and webs suggested dangerous, stealthy spiders, while the goblins, though small and scrappy, had a certain familiarity to them.

"Goblins," he whispered to himself, nodding slowly. 'In stories, they're always the ones stealing and hoarding treasure and trinkets. If I can find their nest, I might complete the optional mission too.'

His decision made, Ethan felt a surge of determination. He glanced back in the direction of the goblins, steeling himself. "Alright," he said, his voice firm, "it's going to be the goblins. They might have what I need to complete the treasure mission."

Ethan peered back at the two goblins, who had settled into a grisly feast. The second goblin had successfully hunted a rabbit with his wooden spear and was now gnawing on the raw meat.

Instead of rushing in for an attack, Ethan decided to follow the goblins back to their nest. 'If I can find their lair, I can come up with a better plan,' he thought. He crouched lower behind the tree, careful to remain unseen.

The goblins devoured their meal in a matter of minutes, but then they lounged lazily in the grass, seemingly napping.

Time dragged on, each minute feeling like an eternity. Ethan's patience wore thin; his bones tensed with the urge to take action.

"Come on, move already," he whispered to himself, frustration gnawing at him. The desire to attack them and find their nest on his own almost overwhelmed him.

Finally, after what felt like half an hour, the goblins began to stir. They yawned and stretched, their grotesque faces twisting in sleepy satisfaction.

They screeched at each other, their voices harsh and grating. Then, with their wooden spears slung over their shoulders, they started walking.

Ethan followed at a cautious distance, his bony feet thankfully muffled by the lush grass.

After about half an hour, they reached their destination. The goblins led Ethan to a cave at the base of a small rocky cliff. The entrance was shadowed, a dark maw against the rock.

Two goblins stood guard at the entrance, their eyes scanning the surroundings. Another pair was positioned atop the cliff, keeping watch from above.

Ethan's non-existent breath hitched as he took in the sight. "This is it," he whispered, his non existent heart pounding. "Their nest."

He crouched lower, ensuring he remained hidden as he observed the goblin guards. His mind raced with potential strategies.

'I'll need to take out the guards first, silently if possible,' he thought, the blue flames in his eyes socket narrowing in concentration. 'Then, I can sneak inside and find the boss.'

Ethan's emotions were a whirlwind-nervousness mingled with excitement and determination.

He knew the risks were high, but so were the rewards. 'I can do this,' he told himself, gripping his rusty sword tighter. 'One step at a time. Stay focused.'

Ethan crouched behind a tree, his blue flames for eyes scanning the surroundings for any signs of more goblins. The forest was eerily quiet, save for the occasional rustle of leaves and distant animal calls.

From his vantage point, he saw only the four goblins guarding the entrance and the top of the cliff. "Alright, seems manageable," he whispered to himself, his voice was like a whisper in the wind, barely audible.

He decided to circle around the cave to find a way up the cliff. Moving cautiously, he navigated through the dense foliage, every step carefully placed to avoid making noise.

The path up the cliff was steep and rocky, but his skeletal form made it easier to slip through tight spaces without much difficulty.

Reaching the top, he hid behind another tree, peering at the two goblins standing guard. Their eyes were small and beady, constantly scanning the area.

He considered his options, thinking about the best way to approach them without drawing attention. 'I have Minor Night Vision,' he thought, his jaws parting in an expression of supposed smile, which looked nothing like one. 'Waiting for nightfall might give me the advantage I need.'

With a plan in mind, Ethan retreated to a safe distance away from the path to the cliff. He found a spot behind a large tree, laid down, and clutched his rusty sword.

The hours stretched on as he waited, the anticipation building with each passing moment.

His thoughts drifted to his future in the Marvel world. 'How will I interact with people as a skeleton?' he pondered, the idea both intriguing and daunting. 'Will they see me as a monster or something else?'

He imagined meeting some of the Marvel heroes, wondering if they would accept him or fight him. The thought made him chuckle softly, despite the seriousness of his situation.

'Maybe I'll join the Avengers,' he mused, his skeletal jaws separating to form a grin. 'Or maybe I'll end up as a villain. Who knows?'

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the sky bled into deep purples and blues. Long shadows stretched across the landscape before darkness fully descended.

The forest transformed with the setting sun; birds fell silent, and animals retreated to their nests, leaving the stage to the night's symphony of crickets. The air grew cool and still, a blanket of anticipation settling over everything.

Ethan rose from his hiding spot, his skeletal form blending into the monochrome world his Minor Night Vision provided.

He moved silently towards the cliff, each step deliberate and cautious. The rustling of leaves and the occasional snap of a twig underfoot were the only sounds, quickly swallowed by the night.

As he reached the top of the cliff, he spotted the two goblins. They were slightly different from the ones he had seen earlier; these goblins wielded swords instead of spears.

Ethan allowed himself a brief, wry smile. 'Would it be racist to say that all goblins look the same to me?' he thought, his dry humor a small comfort in the tense situation.

Determined, Ethan tightened his grip on his rusty sword, feeling the rough metal against his bones. He crouched low, his skeletal form making it easier to move stealthily.

The goblins were alert, but not enough to notice him approaching from behind. He could hear their guttural muttering, the harsh sounds of their language grating against his non existent ears.

Steeling himself, Ethan took a deep breath-or the closest thing to it-and made his move.

He crept closer, each step a test of his patience and nerves. As he neared the first goblin, his heart pounded in his chest, the thrill of the hunt coursing through him.

But suddenly his bony joints betrayed him, emitting a loud creak that caused the goblins' drooping ears to perk up. 'Fuck it!'

Ethan thought, panic surging through him as he dashed forward. His agility score of 8 didn't lend him much speed, but desperation spurred him on.

He managed to close the small distance before the goblins could react, his rusty sword swinging downward with all his might.

The blade struck the nearest goblin squarely on the head, splitting it in half with a sickening crunch that echoed through the night. Blood sprayed, and the goblin's lifeless body crumpled to the ground.

The sight and sensation of the sword slicing through the goblin's skull made Ethan pause, a mix of horror and grim satisfaction washing over him.

But that moment of hesitation proved costly. The second goblin let out a piercing screech. It lunged at Ethan, swinging its crude sword with surprising speed.

The goblin's screech jolted Ethan from his stupor just in time to see the creature attacking. Instinctively, he brought his forearm up to block the blow.

The goblin's sword clanged against his bones, the impact sending vibrations through his skeletal frame. He saw his forearm chip from the force of the strike, a small red marker floating up beside the wound.

[-6]

Ethan didn't feel pain, but the sight of his own bone chipping unsettled him. "Damn it!" he growled, his anger fueling his next move.

He pushed the goblin back with his chipped arm, then swung his sword with renewed fury. The goblin tried to dodge, but Ethan's strike was too quick. The blade sliced through its torso, spilling more blood and guts onto the forest floor.

With both guards at the top of the cliff dispatched, Ethan took a moment to catch his breath. He glanced at his chipped forearm, the damage a stark reminder of his vulnerability.

But there was no time to dwell on it. The screeching goblin had undoubtedly alerted the others.

Ch-4: Shadow Dance with Goblins

[You killed a Level 1 Goblin. You gained 20 Exp.]

[You killed a Level 1 Goblin. You gained 20 Exp.]

The system message popped up near the bottom of Ethan's vision, showing him goblin's level and the Exp they provided.

But now wasn't the time to dwell on numbers; the pressing issue was the horde of goblins surely alerted by their comrade's screech.

Peering down the cliff, Ethan's suspicions were confirmed. Goblins poured out of the cave entrance, their guttural screeches piercing the night.

Some wielded wooden torches, their flickering flames casting eerie shadows against the rock.

"Shit," Ethan muttered, feeling the tension coil in his chest. 'I can't take them all head-on.'

He decided to retreat into the darkness, planning to pick them off one by one, Rambo-style. But first, he wanted to try something.

'Can I store the bodies in the inventory?' With that thought, he opened the inventory panel, a 4x4 grid appearing before him, but it didn't show any option for adding items.

Thinking quickly, Ethan touched the nearest goblin corpse. A prompt appeared in front of him: [Do you want to store (Goblin Corpse) in the inventory?]

"Yes," he clicked, and the corpse vanished. A slot in the inventory filled with a pixelated drawing of a grinning goblin head, marked with X's for eyes. Encouraged, Ethan did the same with the second body, erasing the evidence of his kills and leaving only blood spatters behind.

Ethan retreated further into the forest, moving quietly and quickly. He saw a torch in the distance, a small group of goblins making their way up the path to the cliff. He melted into the shadows, putting more distance between himself and the path, ensuring he was out of sight.

Minutes later, the goblin search party arrived at the scene of the massacre. One goblin, seemingly the leader, lifted its head and sniffed the air, trying to catch the scent of the attacker. After a few moments, the goblin lowered its head, looking back at the group with a confused expression. It screeched in a bewildered tone, probably indicating it couldn't find any scent.

Ethan watched from his hiding spot, a mix of relief and anxiety churning in his chest. He knew the goblins were on high alert now, making his task even more dangerous. But he also felt a grim satisfaction. "They have no idea what's coming for them," he thought, steeling himself for the next move.

He tightened his grip on the sword, the cool metal against his bones grounding him. "Time to play the long game," he whispered to himself, his eyes narrowing as he formulated his plan.

He would pick them off, one by one, using the darkness and his wits to his advantage. The thrill of the hunt coursed through him, exhilaration fueling his determination.

The goblin leader barked some orders, and the other goblins scattered a short distance away, searching the ground for tracks.

Their guttural screeches and grunts filled the air, but Ethan focused on one goblin that had wandered just far enough from the others to be taken out silently.

Ethan's non-existent heart pounded in his chest as he crept closer, the night's darkness and dense trees providing perfect cover for his ivory-white bones.

He moved from shadow to shadow, keeping as low as possible. Every step was deliberate, his bony feet making minimal noise against the forest floor.

As he neared the unsuspecting goblin, it was sniffing the air and glancing around, trying to detect any sign of the enemy.

Ethan's earlier confidence, bolstered by the fact that the goblins hadn't detected his scent, gave him the courage to proceed. He waited for the goblin to turn away, his grip tightening on the hilt of his rusty sword.

The moment the goblin looked the other way, Ethan sprang into action. His bony fingers clamped down over the goblin's mouth, muffling any potential cries.

In one swift motion, he drew his sword across the goblin's throat. The goblin thrashed in his arms, its eyes wide with panic, but Ethan tightened his grip, holding it firmly until it went limp.

Breathing heavily, Ethan quickly stored the body in his inventory. Another notification flashed across his vision:

[You killed a Level 1 goblin. You gained 20 Exp.]

He barely registered the message, his mind focused on the remaining goblins. His earlier success bolstered his confidence, but he knew he couldn't afford to be careless.

The torch-wielding leader still posed a significant threat, and any mistake could alert the entire group.

He scanned the area, spotting another goblin a bit farther from the leader. With a determined breath, Ethan began to make his way towards this new target.

His each step was calculated and deliberate. He used the cover of the trees and the darkness to his advantage, inching closer to his prey.

As he approached the next goblin, the sounds of the night seemed to intensify. The chirping of crickets and rustling of leaves filled his ears, mingling with the distant, guttural sounds of the goblin leader.

Ethan's grip tightened on his sword, ready for the next silent kill.

Ethan's stealthy assault continued with precision and efficiency. He silently took out the goblin and yet another.

[You killed a Level 1 goblin. You gained 20 Exp.]

[You killed a Level 1 goblin. You gained 20 Exp.]

[You have leveled up. 10 Stat points obtained.]

[New basic skill "Sharpen" unlocked.]

The goblin group leader, perhaps a bit wiser than the others, finally noticed its missing comrades. With a screech that seemed to convey urgency and command, it called the last remaining goblin to its side.

Ethan watched as the final goblin obediently converged with the leader.

Ethan understood the danger of facing the last two together. He needed every advantage he could get.

He quickly allocated his newly earned stat points: four into dexterity, bringing it up to 10, and six into agility, raising it to 14.

A strange, exhilarating sensation coursed through his skeletal frame, enhancing his coordination and perception.

"Alright, let's see what this new skill does," Ethan muttered to himself as he tapped on the [Skill] tab and read the description of "Sharpen":

{Sharpen}: Level 1

Cost: 10 mana

Duration: 1 minutes

Cooldown: 5 minutes

Applies a layer of mana on the sword making it sharper than normal, decreases durability of non-mana recipient swords.

'Not bad,' Ethan thought. 'Might come in handy, especially with tougher monsters.'

Determined to test his new skill, Ethan activated Sharpen, feeling a surge of mana flow into his rusty sword. The blade shimmered with a faint blue light, an indication of its temporary enhanced sharpness.

Ethan moved closer to the last two goblins, keeping to the shadows. The night was his ally, and his newly boosted agility made his movements quicker and more precise.

He waited for the perfect moment, watching as the goblins turned their backs to him.

Now or never, Ethan thought. He moved swiftly, the leaves and grass crunching softly beneath his feet.

The goblins barely had time to react as Ethan lunged, his enhanced sword slicing through the air.

In one fluid motion, he decapitated both goblins, the torch they held falling to the ground, extinguished by the pooling blood.

[You have killed a Level 2 goblin. 30 Exp obtained.]

[You have killed a Level 3 goblin. 40 Exp obtained.]

Ethan exhaled a non existent breath. The rush of battle, the thrill of his new abilities, and the satisfaction of his success filled him with a sense of purpose.

He looked down at the fallen goblins and the notifications that floated before him, feeling a strange mix of accomplishment and anticipation.

"Well, that was… intense," he said to himself, a slight smile tugging at his skeletal face.

Ethan wiped the imaginary sweat from his non-existent brow, looking around to make sure no more goblins were approaching.

The area seemed clear for the moment. He quickly stored the remaining goblin corpses in his inventory, eager to check how the system categorized his loot.

As he opened the [Inventory] tab, the familiar grid appeared before him. Three slots were filled with the same goblin picture, but the first one showed "x3" on it, while the others just had single images.

"Huh," Ethan muttered to himself, "seems like the inventory works in Minecraft style. Same kind of items get stacked in one slot, probably up to 99 if this follows normal game mechanics."

Just as he was making sense of the inventory, he felt the weight in his hand shift. The effect of "Sharpen" wore off, and his rusty sword crumbled to dust.

"Great," Ethan sighed. "Looks like I'll have to collect some of the goblins' weapons to keep going."

He moved quickly, picking up the sword left by the goblin group leader and the daggers dropped by the other goblin.

Storing them in his inventory, he noticed a subtle difference in the display. The short sword from the leader had a white background, unlike the transparent icons of the other items.

"So weapons in the dungeons have rarity, huh?" Ethan said, a grin forming. "At least that's something."

His mind wandered back to the earlier realization. 'If the group leader was Level 3, then higher-level monsters give more experience.'

Ethan stood up, feeling a mix of excitement and anticipation. "Alright, let's see what else this dungeon has in store for me," he murmured to himself, gripping his newly acquired short sword.

Ethan moved cautiously toward the cliff, curious to check the situation below. He peered over the edge and saw a few goblins skittering around near the cave entrance. None of them ventured too far from their lair.

Ethan grinned, realizing that the group he had just eliminated might have been the only ones sent to investigate. "This could be my chance to take out more of them," he muttered to himself.

He scanned the area for something useful and soon spotted the perfect tool: a rock. It wasn't enormous, reaching just up to his knees, but it was hefty enough to cause significant damage. All he needed was bait to gather the goblins together before he dropped it on them.

A mischievous idea struck him. Ethan opened his inventory and retrieved one of the goblin corpses.

He heaved it over the edge of the cliff, watching as it plummeted and landed with a sickening thud in front of the cave entrance.

The surrounding goblins jumped and screeched in surprise at the sudden appearance of their fallen comrade.

Ethan quickly hid, then picked up the stone and brought it to the edge of the cliff. He waited, bones tensed, as the goblins gathered around the corpse, likely trying to identify it.

Some glanced up to check the source of the falling body, but their confusion gave Ethan the perfect opening.

With a determined shove, he sent the rock hurtling down.

The goblins had just enough time to look up before the rock crashed into them, splattering some to death and crippling others.

The goblins farther away from the impact zone screeched in terror and confusion.

Ethan felt a rush of adrenaline and satisfaction. His plan had worked perfectly.

The cries and screeches of the injured goblins filled the air, mingling with the sound of notifications popping up in his vision.

[You killed a Level 1 goblin. 20 Exp obtained.]

[You killed a Level 2 goblin. 30 Exp obtained.]

[You killed a Level 2 goblin. 30 Exp obtained.]

[You killed a Level 1 goblin. 20 Exp obtained.]

Ethan allowed himself a brief moment of triumph. "Gotcha," he whispered to himself, the blue flames in his eyes expanding with excitement. He knew he had to stay vigilant, but the thrill of victory was undeniable.

But that thrill didn't last long, as it was doused by the appearance of a brutish, hulking monster of a goblin emerging from the cave entrance.

This creature was easily twice the size of the others, its muscles bulging beneath its rough, green skin. It carried a massive club studded with jagged stones.

It snarled in a deep baritone and looked up toward the cliff, its yellow eyes gleaming with malice.

Ch-5: Clash of Bones and Orc

The hulking brute snarled in a deep baritone and looked up toward the cliff, its yellow eyes gleaming with malice.

The remaining goblins scattered, their fear palpable as they hurried to get out of the beast's way.

Ethan felt a cold chill run down his bony spine. "Okay, big guy, let's see what you've got," he muttered, trying to muster his courage. He knew he couldn't take this brute head-on; he needed to be smart.

As Ethan backed away, the brutish goblin's hulking frame became more defined. It carried a massive club of wood and jagged rocks, its eyes scanning the cliff until they landed on his skeletal form.

'That has to be an orc,' Ethan thought to himself, recalling his DnD knowledge. 'No way I can take that thing head-on at my current level. I need more stats.'

His thoughts were interrupted by the pitiful cries of the injured goblins below. An idea sparked.

He had initially dismissed the wooden spears as useless, but now they seemed like the perfect tool for his plan.

Ethan quickly scanned the area, spotting a few wooden spears scattered around. He collected all three and stored them in his inventory before making his way back to the cliff's edge.

Peering down, he saw the orc lumbering toward the path leading to the cliff, while the injured goblins continued their pitiful wails.

He needed to find a high-level goblin to maximize his experience gain. Scanning the goblins, his eyes settled on one that was slightly shorter than the rest.

Unlike the others, this goblin wasn't crying out in pain but was instead trying to splint its leg, showing a surprising level of intelligence and resourcefulness.

'That's my target,' he hoisted one of the wooden spears, testing its balance.

Satisfied, he threw it into the ground a little ways away to check his aim.

Nodding to himself, he aimed at the goblin, his increased dexterity making his movements smoother, and his boosted agility adding power to his throw.

The spear trailed through the air, straight and true, piercing the goblin's belly.

The goblin gasped, stunned, before falling back unconscious, blood pooling beneath it.

"Gotcha," Ethan whispered, feeling a mix of triumph and anticipation. He watched as the goblin's life force ebbed away, waiting for the experience points to roll in.

In the midst of this, the orc's roars grew louder, closer.

Ethan made a tch sound for not getting the insta kill. "Damn it," he muttered under his breath. Instead of wasting another spear on the goblin, he shifted his focus to another injured target. He aimed carefully and threw the spear, this time nailing it squarely in the chest. A notification floated up:

[You killed a Level 3 goblin. You gained 30 Exp.]

"Nice," Ethan whispered to himself, feeling a small surge of satisfaction. He quickly targeted the last injured goblin, releasing his final spear with a swift, practiced motion. Another notification appeared:

[You have killed a Level 3 goblin. You gained 30 Exp.]

'So, the injured goblins were high-leveled,' Ethan deduced. 'That's why they didn't die immediately from the rock. Makes sense.'

Just then, he heard the Orc's voice-a guttural mix of grunts and growls. Ethan couldn't understand what it was saying, but the menacing tone was clear. The Orc was on the hunt, and Ethan was its prey.

'Why is that damn goblin taking so long to die? Higher endurance, maybe?' Ethan huffed in annoyance before focusing back on the Orc.

He realized he needed to use the terrain to his advantage. 'I have to get the high ground on the Orc,' he decided.

With newfound determination, Ethan quietly retreated from the cliff side and entered the forest. His higher dexterity now allowed him to move more fluidly.

He found a sturdy tree and began to climb, his bony hands finding purchase on the rough bark. Once he reached a suitable height, he perched on a thick branch, looking down at the ground below.

The Orc stomped around, its massive club smashing into trees and underbrush as it searched for him.

Ethan watched intently, his blue eye flames flickering with a mix of fear and anticipation. "Come on, Orc," he whispered. "Show me what you've got."

The Orc's rage was palpable, its roars echoing through the forest. Ethan could see the brute's muscles rippling under its rough skin, the club swinging with devastating force.

Ethan quietly retreated from the cliffside and entered the forest. With his higher dexterity, he easily climbed a tree, finding a perch that provided a good vantage point.

He sat atop, looking down as the Orc smashed its club around, trying to find him. The forest echoed with the beast's guttural roars and heavy footsteps.

Suddenly, the Orc paused, its eyes scanning the treetops. Before Ethan could react, it spotted him. With a deafening roar, it lunged at him, the massive club trailing behind.

In that moment, a notification flashed before Ethan's eyes:

[You killed a Level 6 goblin. You gained 60 Exp.]

[You have leveled up. 10 stat points obtained.]

"Finally," Ethan muttered, the thrill of leveling up momentarily pushing aside his fear. As the Orc charged, he quickly allocated his new points-6 to agility, bringing it up to 20, 3 to dexterity, and 1 to strength, raising them to 13 and 11 respectively.

A surge of power coursed through his skeletal frame, his bones clicking as he felt more nimble and strong. As he prepared to jump away from the tree, another notification appeared:

[Congratulations for reaching 20 points in Agility. You have been granted the skill "Dash".]

Ethan dismissed the notification quickly, knowing he had no time to check the details. The Orc's massive club smashed into the tree just as he jumped, his newly enhanced agility allowing him to leap to a nearby branch. He scrambled up quickly, his bony fingers finding purchase on the rough bark.

From an outside perspective, it was a comical sight-an animated skeleton scrambling through the treetops. But Ethan had no time for such thoughts; his mind raced with survival strategies.

He continued jumping from tree to tree, the Orc following and swinging its club with relentless fury. Minutes passed, the chase exhausting the predator but not the prey.

Ethan noticed the Orc's momentum slowing, its panting breaths heavy with fatigue. Saliva dripped from its mouth as it trudged after him.

Ethan's eyes narrowed. As he jumped to another tree, the Orc didn't follow. Instead, it sat down with a heavy thud, its chest heaving as it tried to recover stamina.

'This is it,' Ethan thought, feeling a mix of relief and determination. He quickly checked the skill description of "Dash":

{Dash}: Level 1

Cost: Saps N/A stamina

Duration: 1 second

Cooldown: 1 minute

Saps a part of user's stamina to boost speed up to 500 percent for a second.

Ethan smirked inwardly. 'Being a skeleton is a cheat,' he mused. 'If I were human, I probably couldn't outlast the Orc. And while using this skill, I won't lose any stamina because I have unlimited of it.'

Dismissing the translucent blue screen, he focused back on the panting Orc. Using his enhanced agility and dexterity, he scrambled down the tree, his bones clicking against the bark.

The Orc noticed him and began to rise, albeit slowly, using its club for support. The blue flames in Ethan's eyes shone brighter with determination.

He darted forward, activating "Dash" and "Sharpen". His skeletal form blurred as he closed the distance in an instant, the blue light of the sword trailing behind him.

Before the Orc could fully react, Ethan struck with his newly acquired goblin sword.

The blade, sharp and lethal in his bony grasp, cut deep into the Orc's exposed neck.

The initial strike was precise, slicing through muscle and sinew with a wet, sickening sound.

A gurgling roar escaped the beast's throat as it staggered back, blood spurting from the wound in a crimson arc.

Ethan didn't hesitate. His skeletal form moved with a fluid grace that belied its macabre appearance.

He ducked under a wild swing from the Orc's massive club, the jagged rocks missing him by mere inches.

The force of the club's impact sent splinters flying as it smashed into a tree, but Ethan was already on the move.

He pivoted on one foot, spinning around to deliver a slash across the Orc's abdomen.

The mana enhanced blade cut through the tough hide, opening a gaping wound.

The Orc howled in pain, swinging its club in a desperate attempt to fend off the relentless skeleton.

Ethan's agility gave him the upper hand in the fight. He weaved and dodged, every motion calculated and efficient.

He feinted to the left, drawing the Orc's attention, then darted to the right, slashing at the beast's thigh.

The goblin sword bit deep, severing tendons and causing the Orc to stumble.

With the brute momentarily off-balance, Ethan leaped forward, driving his sword into the Orc's side.

He twisted the blade, feeling the resistance of bone and muscle giving way.

The Orc bellowed, its club dropping from its hands as it clutched at the wound.

Ethan pulled the sword free with a wet squelch and spun around, bringing the blade down in a powerful overhead strike.

The sword cleaved through the Orc's collarbone, embedding itself deep into the creature's chest.

The Orc's eyes widened in shock and agony, its roar turning into a gurgle as blood filled its lungs.

But Ethan wasn't done. He yanked the sword free and thrust it deep inside the Orc's chest, the blade tearing through flesh and bone and reaching its heart.

The force of the blow caused the Orc to crumple to its knees, its life force draining away with every ragged breath as its heart stopped beating.

Ethan stepped back, watching the Orc's massive frame tremble and collapse to the ground.

Crimson blood pooled around the fallen beast, its once powerful body now lifeless and still. A series of notifications flashed before Ethan's eyes:

[You have killed a Level 5 Orc. You gained 500 Exp.]

[You have leveled up. 10 stat points obtained.]

Ethan stood over the fallen Orc, his blue eye flames flickering with triumph.

"Gotcha," he whispered, allowing himself a brief moment of satisfaction.

His bones, slick with the blood of his foe, gleamed in the dappled moonlight filtering through the trees.

The thrill of victory surged through him, but he knew the hunt was far from over.

Ethan's thoughts raced as he wiped the blood from his bones. 'I need to reach higher levels quickly and clear this goblin nest as fast as I can,' he mused, glancing around the dark forest. 'Every second I waste, the goblins might regroup or reinforce. If they call for backup, I could be overwhelmed.'

He flexed his bony fingers, feeling the surge of power from his recent level-up. 'I can't afford to be complacent… The faster I level up, the stronger I'll become. And who knows what rewards or skills I'll unlock by then? Each new ability might be the difference between life and death.'

Suddenly, a notification appeared in his vision.

[New mission has been issued, check the mission description for details.]

Ethan's skeletal fingers hesitated over the glowing interface, the blue flames in his eye sockets flickering with curiosity and unease.

The forest around him seemed to hold its breath, the silence thick with anticipation.

With a final, steadying breath, Ethan reached out to open the mission description, the screen pulsing with ominous light.

Ch-6: A dance of Death and Bones

Ethan clicked the notification, and the [Missions] tab opened up, displaying a new category underneath the pre-assigned mission.

[NEW MISSION]

{Optional mission}: Reach Level 5 by the end of the night.

{Duration}: 6 hours

{Rewards}: 50 coins

"Well, that's a pleasant surprise," Ethan muttered, a grin spreading across his bony face. This mission was a welcome one because he didn't have to go out of his way to complete it.

He closed the tab, but his eyes were drawn to the [Skills] tab, which was emboldened, making it stand out from the others.

'Maybe it's the new skills that make it pop,' he mused, curiosity piqued. He opened it, and his gaze landed on an unexpected surprise.

In the {Passive Skills} column, a new entry had appeared.

{Swordsmanship/HEMA}: Level 1

You are an initiate in the uses of a sword.

Ethan blinked, the blue flames in his eye sockets flickering with astonishment. Swordsmanship? This meant that he could learn skills on his own and not just through the system!… He wasn't chained to the system for improvement.

He chuckled, the sound eerie in the still night. 'This opens up a whole new world of possibilities. I can actually train and get better on my own terms. Perfect. Looks like I've got even more reasons to push forward tonight… But before that, let's assign the stats.'

Ethan opened his Status Panel, contemplating the best way to use his stats.

[STATUS]

Name: ETHAN BLACKETT

Level: 4 (EXP: 40/1000)

Health (/R per hour): 120/120 (12)

Mana (/R per hour): 110/110 (11)

STAMINA (/R per min): N/A (N/A)

STR: 11

AGI: 20

END: 12

INT: 11

WIS: 16

DEX: 13

CHA: 01

LUC: 10

Ethan scrutinized the panel. 'Health and mana haven't increased even though I'm Level 4 now. So, leveling up doesn't boost those directly. Only stat increases do. At least the level up healed me completely, though. That's something.'

He rubbed his skeletal chin, deep in thought. 'I need to focus on stats that give me a better fighting chance. Physical stats like strength, agility, endurance, and dexterity are key right now. Wisdom might help with perception, and intelligence with reaction time, but those are secondary. Charisma is useless for now, and I can't increase luck.'

He continued, 'I'll aim to get dexterity to 20 to get a new skill, but I need to balance it with strength and endurance. Can't just chase after skills and neglect my overall balance.'

Ethan assigned his stat points carefully. He added 5 points to dexterity, bringing it up to 18. Then, he added 3 points to strength and 2 to endurance, making both of them 14.

'Balancing is crucial,' he mused, feeling the familiar surge of power course through his skeletal frame. 'If I focus too much on one stat, I'll end up with a glaring weakness.'

The exhilarating rush was back, more intense this time. He felt more nimble, his movements even smoother than before. His bones felt sturdier, capable of withstanding more impact. The newfound strength and resilience filled him with a sense of invincibility.

"Alright," he whispered to himself, clenching his skeletal fists. 'Let's put these new stats to good use. Time to get to Level 5 and clear out that goblin nest… The night is still young, and there's a lot more to do.'

As Ethan resolved to tackle the goblin nest, his eyes landed on the lifeless body of the Orc. 'Might as well make use of it,' he thought. He stored the Orc's corpse and its massive club in his inventory.

In the inventory, new pixel images appeared: an Orc head with Xs for eyes and a club with a white background. Ethan chuckled to himself, 'Imagine me wielding that giant club. It'd look ridiculous.'

His amusement faded as his eyes fell on his sword. He noticed slight chips and dents on the blade. 'Must be from using the 'Sharpen' skill,' he mused. 'I really need to find better equipment. This sword won't last long.'

Looking around, Ethan tried to find his way back to the cliff. He realized he had ventured deeper into the forest while evading the Orc. "Where did I come from?" he muttered, scanning the area.

He soon spotted the signs of the Orc's pursuit: broken branches, deep footprints, and trampled underbrush. "There we go," he said, following the trail back towards the cliff.

As he made his way, he couldn't help but think about his situation. ' I need to clear that nest before sunrise. If I reach Level 5, I'll be stronger and can handle tougher enemies. I can't afford to waste any more time.'

Ethan's resolve hardened. 'Let's do this,' he whispered, his skeletal frame moving swiftly and silently through the forest, guided by the marks left in the Orc's wake.

Ethan followed the trail and soon reached the cliff. He peered down cautiously, scanning the scene below. The goblins were still there, but this time they weren't running around in panic.

Instead, they were busy cleaning up the mess Ethan had caused-picking up the crushed bodies of their comrades and the ones he had stabbed with wooden spears.

'Looks like they think the Orc finished me off,' Ethan thought, a grin spreading across his skeletal face. This was a perfect opportunity for an ambush.

With his goal clear, Ethan moved forward with purpose. He descended the path down the cliff, his bony form blending with the shadows.

He positioned himself behind a large tree, its thick trunk providing ample cover. From this vantage point, he watched the goblins toil away, oblivious to his presence.

His eyes darted from goblin to goblin, assessing their movements and waiting for the perfect moment to strike. The anticipation made his bones tingle with excitement.

"They have no idea what's coming," he whispered to himself, the blue flames in his eye sockets flickering with intensity.

Ethan's gaze locked onto a goblin standing closer to him than the others. His skeletal fingers tightened around the sword's hilt, and with a thought, he activated "Dash."

In an instant, he appeared behind the goblin, his blade slicing through the air with lethal precision. The sword cut through the goblin's head at an angle, from the crown to the jaw, severing it cleanly. Blood sprayed as the goblin's body began to collapse, but Ethan was already moving.

Without pausing, he sprinted towards the next target, his speed and agility making him a blur in the dim light. His sword flashed, and the air was filled with the screeches of dying goblins and the metallic scent of blood.

Each strike was precise and each movement calculated. Ethan was a whirlwind of death, his skeletal form dancing through the chaos he created.

In less than a minute, it was over. Five or six goblins lay dead, their bodies crumpled on the ground, blood pooling around them. Ethan didn't bother to clean up; this time, he was going all in.

He turned his attention to the cave entrance, the dark maw of the goblin nest beckoning him. "This ends tonight," he muttered to himself, his voice a cold whisper in the night. His eyes burned with blue flames, reflecting his unyielding resolve.

With a final glance at the carnage he had wrought, Ethan stepped towards the cave. His bones clicked softly with each step, the sound barely audible over the stillness that had settled after the brief but brutal fight.

The cave was eerily quiet, the stillness almost oppressive. Wooden torches clung to the stony walls, their flickering light casting long, wavering shadows.

The path was tall and wide, tall enough for an Orc to stand upright without touching the ceiling, albeit by only a few inches, and wide enough for one to walk through with their massive clubs.

Ethan moved forward with deliberate caution. "There must be more Orcs, more than just a few, for the whole cave path to be made this big," he muttered to himself, hypothesizing the size of the tribe that resided within.

Ethan knew that he needed to keep his advantage and so, he began extinguishing every torch he came across, each hiss of the dying flames echoing ominously in the cavern.

The darkness enveloped him, his skeletal frame blending seamlessly into the shadows. His blue eyes, glowing faintly, were the only light source he needed, granting him a spectral vision in the pitch-black surroundings.

After extinguishing the last torch, he reached a junction where the path split into three directions.

Without hesitation, he chose the leftmost path, a narrow corridor that beckoned him deeper into the cave's depths.

As he proceeded, he continued to snuff out the torches, the dark corridor growing ever more impenetrable to those without his vision.

Soon, he came across a larger chamber, the walls spreading outwards. The room wasn't taller than the path, but it was significantly wider.

His eyes scanned the area, spotting an assortment of smaller holes in the walls, each filled with fur pelts and tufts of grass, forming crude nests.

Ethan stepped cautiously into the room, his senses alert for any sign of danger. The air was thick with a musty scent, mingling with the faint, metallic tang of blood. There were no goblins present, no movement save for the flicker of shadows cast by the last remaining torch.

'Maybe this room isn't important, or the ones that were here went outside and got killed by me,' he mused, his voice a mere whisper against the stone.

Curiosity piqued, he approached the smaller holes in the wall. Peering inside, he saw the goblin children, their tiny bodies huddled together for warmth and security.

They were oblivious to his presence, their sleep untroubled by the carnage outside.

A wave of uncertainty washed over him. What would he do with them? If left on their own, they'll grow into goblins and become threats. But they're still children. Could he really kill them?

His mind drifted back to an anime he had watched in his previous life, Goblin Slayer.

A particular quote echoed in his mind: "A good goblin? I guess there might be one if you looked really hard. But in the end, the only good goblins are the ones who never come out of their holes."

Ethan sighed, steeling himself. They were not equal to human children in his eyes. And even if they were, he didn't care enough about them either.

His emotional detachment from his past life had been amplified by his transformation and the perks it brought. Ethan truly didn't feel much for others, except for himself.

Steeling his resolve, Ethan raised his sword and methodically ended the lives of the goblin children. Each strike was precise, the cold steel severing their fragile existence with a grim finality.

As he wiped the blood from his blade, Ethan felt no remorse, only a cold, calculated determination to see his mission through.

Notifications popped up in his vision.

[You killed a Level 0 goblin. You obtained 1 Exp.] x18

The room now silent, he turned away, the lifeless bodies left behind as a testament to his resolve. The darkness of the cave seemed to embrace him as he moved forward, ready to face whatever lay ahead.

---

A/N: Alright! Before you go ahead saying killing children is too much, let me tell you something about Ethan's psyche.

He has been tempered by the knowledge about goblins from all the media he has consumed, whether it be novels, video games, anime, manga, anything…

So he doesn't show pity for them, his mind doesn't even think whether the goblins in this dungeon are human rapists and killers or not.

He didn't find any evidence regarding goblins being bad but he still slaughters them with ease, just based on his preconceived notion.

Its not like he doesn't have pity, he does, you will see it in future chaps, he just doesn't has it for something "evil" like goblins or monsters.

In simple terms of you asked him, whether given the chance to kill Hitler as a baby, will he take it? He will say yes without thinking, because he thinks he already knows what Hitler is going to become, but instead of trying to correct him, he just wishes to destroy him.

Hope you understood a few things about Ethan's character, you can think of this as his flaws, which will be explored in future.

Also, new ideas and constructive criticism is always appreciated.

Ch-7: A song of Flame and Bone

A/N: This chapter is another one of the big ones. Nearly 2800 words. Just two chapters left before Ethan defeats the boss and returns to Marvel world.

---

Ethan stepped out of the room, his resolve unshaken, and backtracked to the junction where the paths diverged. This time, he took the rightmost path, reasoning that in video games, side paths usually led to side quests, while the main story often followed the central route.

"Not sure if this logic holds here, but it's worth a shot," Ethan muttered to himself, the eerie silence of the cave swallowing his words. He continued his meticulous process of extinguishing torches, casting the path behind him into complete darkness.

Soon, he came across another room, noticeably different from the previous one. This chamber seemed to be where goblins skinned their prey and stored food. The pungent smell of raw meat and blood hung heavily in the air, mixing with the earthy scent of the cave. Stacks of meat lay strewn on a stone table, while removed skins were piled on the other side, likely to be repurposed into makeshift clothes and armor.

Ethan's eyes quickly scanned the room. He spotted a few goblins diligently working, oblivious to his presence. He extinguished the last torch outside the room, plunging the tunnel into sudden darkness.

The goblins froze, their primitive senses alerting them to the abrupt change. They gathered together, making small screeches and chattering nervously, their eyes darting around in the dim light.

'That won't save you,' Ethan thought coldly.

Using his "Dash" skill, Ethan appeared beside a goblin in an instant. His sword plunged into the creature's head, the blade piercing through its skull with a sickening crunch. The goblin's body went limp, hanging grotesquely on the sword.

The other goblins recoiled in terror, their screeches escalating into frantic cries. They had no time to react as Ethan yanked his sword free, the dead goblin's body dropping to the ground with a dull thud.

Ethan's movements were a blur. He sprinted towards the remaining goblins, his sword cutting through the air in swift, deadly arcs. Blood sprayed across the room, mingling with the scent of flesh and death. Each strike was precise, each goblin falling with barely a struggle.

The room was cleared in less than half a minute. Four goblins lay dead on the floor, their bodies bearing a variety of fatal wounds. The echoes of the brief but brutal battle faded into the depths of the cave, leaving a heavy silence in their wake.

A series of notifications flashed through his vision.

[You killed a Level 2 goblin. You gained 20 Exp.] x2

[You killed a Level 1 goblin. You gained 10 Exp.] x2

With a grim satisfaction, Ethan wiped the blood from his blade and sheathed it. His gaze swept the room, taking in the gruesome sight of the dead goblins. He felt a strange detachment, as if the brutality of his actions was merely a necessary step in his quest for survival and power.

Then, Ethan scanned the room, hoping to find something of value among the scattered pelts, raw meat, and stitching equipment.

His eyes lingered on the discarded animal skins, and an idea sparked. Looking down at his bare, skeletal form, he decided he needed some clothing.

It wasn't a matter of decency-being a skeleton rendered that irrelevant-but he felt more comfortable not roaming around naked.

Plus, wrapping pelts around his feet could enhance his stealth, and covering his ribs and hips might offer some protection against weapons.

"Time for some makeshift armor," he muttered, rolling up his non-existent sleeves.

He set to work, using bone needles along with sinew and ligaments as threads to stitch the pelts. His increased dexterity and agility made the task easier, allowing him to cut, sew, and stitch quickly.

Although he lacked experience in crafting clothes, he relied on the basic sewing techniques he'd picked up from watching his mother in his previous life. She often mended clothes at home, and her careful knotting and stitching had left a lasting impression on him.

Soon, a crude but functional set of leather armor began to take shape. Ethan crafted makeshift boots, gauntlets, a helmet, and a chest piece.

The leather boots fit snugly, having been the easiest to measure by tracing his foot. The gauntlets, adjustable and tied to his forearms, provided a decent fit.

The chest armor, though slightly tilted and loose, offered some protection. The helmet, however, proved to be a challenge. It was too tight for his "massive" skull, causing discomfort.

'Not perfect, but it'll do,' he thought, making some quick adjustments. He opened a few stitches to loosen the helmet and tied the armor more securely around his torso.

As he donned his new gear, Ethan felt a sense of accomplishment. The crude leather armor wasn't pretty, but it was functional.

He could move more silently and had some protection against potential attacks. The sense of added security, combined with the satisfaction of creating something useful, bolstered his confidence.

The crude armor might not hold up against a strong blow, but it was better than nothing. It also made him feel more like a warrior, ready to face the challenges ahead.

Ethan took a deep breath, ready to tackle the "main" path. Retracing his steps, he approached the middle tunnel, extinguishing torches as he went.

This path felt longer and more winding than the others, the air growing cooler and more humid. Shadows danced along the stone walls, their shapes twisting and morphing in the dim light.

Finally, he reached the end of the tunnel and emerged into a large, well-lit room bustling with goblins.

The scene was a chaotic hive of activity: goblins carried slabs of meat on stone plates towards a gate, others fashioned crude weapons, and some lounged around idly.

The room was expansive, easily accommodating nearly 20 goblins and two hulking orcs standing guard by the gate.

Ethan's eyes widened at the sight. 'This is going to be tricky,' he thought, quickly retreating into the shadows. His leather boots allowed him to move silently, keeping his presence unnoticed.

Peering from the darkness, Ethan's mind raced. How was he supposed to take out so many without getting overwhelmed? He thought while scanning the room for potential weaknesses.

Then instinctively his gaze landed on the light source-a large stone, about the size of a goblin's head, glowing a vibrant orange, hanging from the ceiling in a metallic holder. It was not the usual wooden torches, and it piqued his curiosity.

'That must be a mana stone or something like it,' he thought, recalling his fantasy knowledge from countless books and games. 'Flame-related, probably, going by the color. If I break it, what would happen? Will it just stop glowing or cause an explosion?'

The idea of causing an explosion intrigued him. It could be the perfect distraction or even eliminate some of the goblins and orcs without direct combat.

And the alternative wasn't bad either, if it didn't explode and just extinguished, he would have the advantage in the dark.

Ethan's eyes flicked back to the glowing stone. 'If it does explode, the chaos could give me the edge I need,' he reasoned. 'I just need to figure out how to break it from a distance.'

He looked around, searching for anything he could use. His eyes settled on a pile of discarded weapons and tools. Among them was a particularly sharp-looking throwing knife.

"Perfect," he whispered, moving silently towards the pile and picking up the knife. Its weight felt good in his hand, and he could imagine it flying true towards the mana stone.

Ethan took a deep breath, steeling himself for the gamble. He crept back to the edge of the shadows, lining up his shot. The goblins continued their tasks, oblivious to the threat lurking in the dark.

He focused, his skeletal fingers gripping the knife. With a swift, practiced motion, he threw the knife. It cut through the air silently, heading straight for the glowing stone. The moment of truth hung in the balance as the knife neared its target.

The knife struck the stone with a sharp clink and bounced off. The sound reverberated through the room, halting everyone's breath and movement, including Ethan's. All eyes collectively turned towards the hanging stone, still emitting its orange glow.

For a few tense seconds, nothing happened. The goblins began to relax, their gazes shifting as they prepared to search for the perpetrator who dared to harm their precious stone. But just as they were about to move, thin cracks began to spiderweb out from the chip left by Ethan's knife.

Ethan watched, a mix of anticipation and dread coursing through him. "Come on, just break already," he whispered to himself, gripping his sword tighter.

The cracks expanded rapidly, forming a crooked circle around the stone. With a sharp chink, the stone split open. The sound was like a death knell for the room full of monsters as flames burst forth, eager to escape their confinement.

Fire surged in every direction, enveloping almost everything in the room. Goblins shrieked in terror, their bodies igniting like torches. The air filled with the acrid smell of burning flesh and the cacophony of dying creatures.

Ethan had anticipated this possibility. As soon as the cracks began spreading, he had pressed himself as close to the tunnel wall as possible and summoned his "Bone Shield." The shield materialized just in time, protecting his skeletal frame from the searing heat and flying debris.

Although it wasn't a true explosion, the flames roared through the tunnel, licking at Ethan's shield. Red damage notifications popped up in his vision, each one a reminder of the intense heat that managed to breach his defenses.

---

The notifications stopped after ten hits, signaling a mere 10 health points lost. Ethan sighed in relief. His quick thinking had saved him from greater harm.

"That could have been a lot worse," he muttered, dismissing the shield and brushing ash off his newly acquired leather armor. He peered into the room, now an inferno of blazing goblins and fallen structures.

Ethan's plan had worked. The goblins, now ablaze, ran around in panic before collapsing, their burning corpses emitting sickening popping sounds as the heat caused their blood to boil and burst to escape as steam.

He quickly surveyed the scene, his eyes locking onto the two orcs writhing on the ground. Their thick skin had burned away in several places, revealing blackened, charred muscles beneath.

The flames on their bodies flickered and died out, and they began to sit up, their labored breaths echoing through the cavern.

The room had plunged into darkness, the orange glow from the stone now gone, leaving only the dim, flickering light of the burning goblins to illuminate the space. Ethan saw his chance. He couldn't let it slip by.

"Now's my chance," he whispered to himself, his resolve steeling.

Ethan activated "Dash" and appeared behind the closest orc. His sword glowed with a blue aura as he channeled "Sharpen." With a swift, precise motion, he plunged the sword into the orc's skull.

The combined force of his enhanced agility, strength, and the sharpened blade easily penetrated the thick bone. The orc let out a guttural sound before collapsing, lifeless.

The second orc, still trying to regain its footing, saw the demise of its companion. With a roar, it swung its massive club at Ethan.

Reacting quickly, Ethan summoned his "Bone Shield." The shield absorbed the impact, but the force of the blow sent him flying backwards. He kept a tight grip on his sword, yanking it free from the dead orc's skull as he was flung across the room.

Ethan's back slammed into the cavern wall with a bone-rattling thud, and he slid down, landing painfully on his hip. A damage notification flashed before his eyes.

---

' I guess blunt attacks cause more damage because I'm just bones with no muscles or fat to dampen the blow,' Ethan thought, his mind surprisingly calm even in the chaos.

He quickly scrambled to his feet, his eyes locked onto the remaining orc. In the dim light, his monochrome vision allowed him to see clearly. The orc was now standing, panting heavily, its eyes scanning the darkness, trying to locate its assailant.

Ethan tightened his grip on his sword, aware that his advantage of surprise was gone. However, he still held the upper hand in this darkened room. He knew exactly where the orc was, while the beast was blind and disoriented.

With determination coursing through his bones, Ethan readied his sword, its faint blue glow casting eerie shadows on the cavern walls, and raised his "Bone Shield" defensively.

His skeletal form, wrapped in makeshift leather armor, moved with purpose. He sprinted forward, each step silent yet filled with lethal intent.

As he closed the distance, the orc's head snapped towards him, perhaps hearing the faint whisper of his footsteps or catching the glimmer of his faintly glowing sword. The orc's roar echoed through the chamber, a mix of rage and pain.

Ethan had anticipated the next attack. The orc, a simple minded creature with a simple attack pattern, swung its massive club in a wide arc, aiming to crush the intruder.

With a swift, fluid motion, Ethan ducked, the club whistling past his head, missing him by mere inches. His focus never wavered as he rolled to the side, coming up just behind the orc's vulnerable ankle.

With a powerful, precise slash, Ethan's sword cut through the orc's thick skin and tendons, severing its Achilles tendon. The orc let out a deafening roar of agony, its massive form collapsing to one knee, unable to support its weight on the injured leg. Blood gushed from the wound, pooling on the stone floor.

Ethan didn't give it a moment to recover. He moved like a shadow, circling around the orc's back while it flailed its club wildly, trying to hit a target it couldn't see. He could feel the adrenaline - or what served as adrenaline in his skeletal form - coursing through him. Every instinct screamed at him to press the attack, to finish it before the orc could gather its strength.

Ethan leaped onto the orc's back, his bony fingers finding purchase on the rough, burnt flesh. With a grunt of effort, he drove his sword into the orc's spine, twisting the blade to inflict maximum damage. The orc's body convulsed, a final, desperate attempt to throw him off. But Ethan held firm, his grip unyielding.

"You're done," he hissed, his voice a ghastly whisper filled with cold determination.

With one last powerful twist, he drove the sword deeper, severing the spinal cord. The orc's body went limp, collapsing to the ground with a heavy thud. Ethan jumped clear, landing nimbly on his feet, his sword now slick with the orc's blood.

Breathing heavily, Ethan looked around the now-silent cavern. The flames had died down, leaving only the charred remains of the goblins and the two fallen orcs. The air was thick with the smell of burnt flesh and blood. He took a moment to catch his breath, the thrill of victory coursing through him.

"Your moves were nothing compared to the complex attack patterns of a souls boss," he grinned, wiping the blood from his sword with a piece of cloth. 'Still… that was intense. But it's not over yet.'

Ethan glanced towards the only remaining doorway, the one the goblins had been carrying the meat towards. There was still more to this nest, and he couldn't afford to be complacent.

Then, notifications surged in his vision.

[You killed a Level 1 goblin. You gained 10 Exp.] x5

[You killed a Level 2 goblin. You gained 20 Exp.] x5

[You killed a Level 3 goblin. You gained 30 Exp.] x3

[You killed a Level 4 goblin. You gained 40 Exp.] x3

[You killed a Level 5 goblin. You gained 50 Exp.]

[You killed a Level 6 goblin. You gained 60 Exp.] x2

[You killed a Level 6 Orc. You gained 600 Exp.]

[You killed a Level 7 Orc. You gained 700 Exp.]

[You have Leveled Up. 10 stat points obtained.]

[Congratulations! You have reached Level 5. Now you can choose your initial class through Evolution.]

[You have reached the Level cap for you current species. Evolve to increase the Level cap.]

[Mission Complete: Reach Level 5 before the night ends.

Rewards obtained: 50 coins.]

---

A/N:

future dungeons can be world's from fiction like anime, manga, movies etc.

Alright! See you guys in a day or so.

Ch-8: Path to Bonevoultion

Ethan looked at the surge of notifications in his vision, and his jaw parted in a wide grin. His eyes scanned through the messages, quickly noting the critical information.

Finally, the first details about his Evolutionary perk had appeared. He needed to reach the highest level achievable in his species to be able to evolve.

And to choose his class, he would have to evolve into it.

Excitement bubbled within him as he eagerly opened the system panel. At the bottom of all the options, a new shining text had appeared:

[EVOLUTION]

His anticipation soared. Amidst his excitement, he wanted to open and explore this new option immediately, but a sudden sound interrupted his thoughts. Dull thumps echoed through the cave, slowly getting closer.

The noise seemed to come from beyond the door that the pair of orcs had once guarded.

Realizing that enemies were near, Ethan let go of his curiosity and quickly focused on buffing his stats to tackle the imminent threat.

His mind raced, formulating a plan. He needed to increase his dexterity first, as it was closest to reaching 20 points, which would grant him another skill.

Next, he debated between strength and endurance. Considering the monsters he was fighting, he knew he couldn't take the orcs head-on, even with increased strength.

As for penetrating their thick hide, he had "Sharpen" in his arsenal. Endurance would increase his health and defense, ensuring he wouldn't be easily taken out. Being a glass cannon wasn't his style.

He added two points to dexterity, bringing it up to 20. Then, he allocated six points to endurance, also bringing it to 20. Finally, he added the remaining two points to strength, bringing it up to 16.

All of this happened in the span of a minute or two. As the thumping grew louder, Ethan felt the surge of power from the stat increases.

With each point allocated, he felt a surge of power course through his bones. His movements felt more fluid, his body more resilient. The dull thumps grew louder, now accompanied by guttural growls. It felt like they were talking amongst themselves.

New notifications for skills flashed before Ethan's eyes, but he barely registered them, his focus laser-sharp on the immediate threat.

He took a deep breath, steadying himself. The newfound strength and agility filled him with confidence.

Ethan glanced at the burning embers of the goblin corpses, their faint light casting eerie shadows on the cave walls, he still held advantage in terms of vision and maybe even surprise.

Quickly, he shifted the corpses of the previously slain orcs into his inventory, clearing the path for an ambush.

Positioning himself beside the door, Ethan listened intently. The growls became more distinct, from the heavy, guttural sounds, he knew they were orcs.

Then the door creaked open, and an orc growled into the darkness. The room, once brightly lit, was now a realm of shadows and flickering embers. The orc hesitated, sniffing the air, sensing the blood and charred flesh but seeing little.

The second orc, less cautious, swaggered in, its club resting on its shoulder. In a flash, Ethan's sword gleamed, and a swift slash sent the orc's head tilting back, barely attached by a sliver of skin. It stood there, stunned and now… lifeless.

Before its legs gave way and it collapsed in a heap.

The cautious orc instinctively took a step back, glancing towards the tunnel it had come from, and a shiver ran up its spine.

It turned its head back and steeled itself before hefting its massive club and charging forward into the darkness across its dead comrade.

Suddenly, at the corner of its vision, the orc caught sight of something. Its reflexes kicked in, and it brought its club up to its neck, just in time to block Ethan's blow.

The force reverberated through the cave, and Ethan knew he couldn't press on with his limited strength. He disengaged swiftly, fading back into the darkness before the orc could counter.

The orc, confused and disoriented, scanned the shadows but saw nothing.

A sharp pain erupted from its left ankle, and before it could react, a similar agony flared in its right ankle.

Its tendons severed, the orc collapsed to its knees, unable to stand.

Ethan seized the moment. Channeling "Sharpen," he dashed forward, aiming to end the fight with a decisive blow. The orc, driven by survival instincts, propped its club up as a shield.

But, Ethan's sword was already in motion, aiming for the orc's neck. He couldn't halt mid-swing, so he pressed on, intending to slice through both the club and the orc.

Although he didn't think it was possible with his current strength, unless…

Then the blade struck the club.

Thanks to "Sharpen," it cut through the wood like butter, though the obstacle slowed the momentum enough to render the strike non-lethal.

But Ethan was one Lucky skeleton.

The sword connected with the orc's neck, and a notification flashed in Ethan's vision.

[Critical strike! 5x Damage delivered.]

A crimson rain erupted from the orc's severed neck.

Its head toppled to the ground, followed by the lifeless body collapsing in a heap.

After the notification emerged, Ethan's sword lost its bluish glow as the one-minute time limit on his "Sharpen" skill expired. The weapon, now brittle and useless, crumbled to dust in his hand. Ethan tossed the hilt aside with a sigh.

'This is becoming a hassle,' he thought, his frustration evident. 'I need to get a better sword, eventually.'

His mind then wandered to the notification. 'So, I still get Exp even if I don't level up. Will it transfer after evolution or reset back to zero? I guess we'll see it once I evolve.'

Ethan's gaze shifted to the tunnel beyond the gate. It curved to the right after a few meters, and he could see a faint light reflecting off the uneven walls. The sight piqued his curiosity, but he knew better than to rush forward unprepared.

Deciding he couldn't afford to be caught off guard, he bent down to collect the Orc corpses, thinking they might be useful in the future. It was a habit ingrained from years of playing RPG games.

The Orc corpses disappeared from the ground, reappearing in Ethan's inventory as pixelated icons.

With a final glance at the now-empty chamber, Ethan started to move towards the tunnel, his skeletal feet padding silently on the ground. The tunnel was well-lit, torches casting flickering light on the stone walls. Shadows danced around him as he walked, the air cool and damp against his bones.

After a few minutes of walking, he reached the end of the tunnel. Before him stood another set of heavy wooden doors, similar to the ones he had encountered before. He approached cautiously, the silence pressing in on him.

He paused, straining to hear any sounds from beyond the door. Nothing. The quiet was unnerving, and Ethan's grip tightened on the hilt of his sword. The sword was one of the goblin's.

Carefully, he pushed the door open a crack, peeking inside to assess what lay beyond.

With the door slightly open, Ethan could now see inside the room. He moved closer to the parting and peered inside, what he saw was nothing short of bizarre.

The room was well-lit, revealing a wooden throne draped with fur pelts. Seated on the throne was a goblin wearing a leather dress adorned with feathers and beads, its head crowned with a headdress made of animal bones and leaves. In its hand, it held a stick with a knotted end, which it used to beat an Orc kneeling before it.

The Orc grunted with every strike, while the goblin screeched and grunted, its tone high-pitched and full of irritation. It waved the stick animatedly, pointing and jabbing at the Orc as if scolding it for some failure. The goblin's gestures were exaggerated, its green face twisted in what Ethan could only assume was fury.

Ethan watched, mesmerized. The Orc's passive acceptance of the beating suggested that the goblin was strong or held some significant power over it. The goblin's screeches grew louder, each strike landing with a dull thud, while the Orc continued to grunt in pain but did not retaliate.

Ethan shook himself from his distraction and scanned the room through the crack in the door, searching for anything that might aid him in combat. His limited view revealed a few things: a rack of crude weapons against one wall, a pile of what looked like potions or vials near the throne, and an orange mana stone hanging from the ceiling.

He also spotted a pair of Orcs guarding a small door, which only reached their knees.

Ethan carefully considered his options. The weapons could be useful, maybe even for ranged attacks. As for the potions, he wasn't sure if he could use them. Without the right structures to drink them, maybe they could be poured on his body instead.

He scanned the area for anything that might give him an advantage, maybe help him sneak in without being seen. But the room was well-lit due to the hanging mana stone, and breaking it was out of the question-it was too far away.

The only way in was through the door he was peering through, but that was definitely going to get him seen unless everybody in the room was blind.

Ethan sighed, then closed the door and backed up a step. Thinking of preparing, he decided to check his skills.

He opened the system panel and clicked on the [Skills] tab.

[Passive Skills]

{Minor Night Vision}: Lets you see in the dark. Passive available to creatures of the Dark.

{Aspect of Lynx}: Increases movement speed by 10%. Increases Critical strike chance by 15%. Increases accuracy by 10%.

{Swordsmanship/HEMA}: Level 1

You are an initiate in the uses of a sword.

[Active Skills]

{Bone Shield}: Level 1

Cost: 10 mana

Duration: 1 hour

Cooldown: 5 min

Summon a temporary shield made of bones to block attacks. It can absorb 50 points of damage before it disintegrates.

{Skeletal Repair}: Level 1

Cost: 10 mana

Duration: Instant

Cooldown: None

Use mana to repair minor damage to your bones. Exchanges 10 mana for 10 health.

{Sharpen}: Level 1

Cost: 10 mana

Duration: 1 minute

Cooldown: 5 minutes

Applies a layer of mana on the sword, making it sharper than normal. Decreases durability of non-mana recipient swords.

{Dash}: Level 1

Cost: Saps N/A stamina

Duration: 1 second

Cooldown: 1 minute

Saps a part of the user's stamina to boost speed up to 500 percent for a second.

{Fortify}: Level 1

Cost: 20 mana

Duration: 5 minutes

Cooldown: 1 minute

Applies a layer of mana on the body to act as a shield with 20 health points.

[Species Traits]

Doesn't Breathe; Unlimited Stamina; Doesn't Eat or Drink; Doesn't Sleep; High Pain Threshold; Immunity to Disease; Immunity to Mind Control; Immunity to Poison; Indomitable.

[Perks]

1. Evolutionary: Special beings with the power to create custom evolutionary paths, not available for normal monsters.

2. Calm Mind: Able to make calm and calculative decisions in almost any circumstance.

…

The newly acquired skills, {Aspect of Lynx} and {Fortify}, could help him tremendously, especially with throwing weapons.

And with {Bone Shield} and {Skeletal Repair}, he had enough defense and health to take on things stronger than Orcs.

At the thought of things stronger than orcs, his mind went to the weirdly dressed goblin beating up the orc, and Ethan started to speculate.

From his DnD knowledge and the things the goblin wore and had, he could guess that maybe the goblin was a mage, a shaman to be specific.

If it was really the case, then this was his first magical opponent. Except for the knowledge of RPG video games and DnD, he didn't have any practical experience dealing with mages.

Still, some basics could be applied in the situation. Shamans were usually glass cannons and had limited spells and mana. The best thing to do was somehow expend their arsenal and then close the distance to take them out.

Thinking of expending its arsenal, Ethan considered the goblin and Orc corpses stored in his inventory. Maybe they could help.

With that decision, he readied himself and opened the gate…

Ch-9: Clash of Bones and Sorcery

Light peered through the gate as Ethan pushed it open with his skeletal hands. The gate creaked, the sound echoing ominously through the chamber and drawing the attention of everyone in the room.

The goblin shaman halted his beating, and the Orcs guarding the small door turned to face the new arrival. A palpable air of confusion filled the room-how did a single skeleton manage to infiltrate so deep into their nest unnoticed?

'Now you see me,' Ethan thought.

Ethan didn't waste any time. He activated "Dash," and combined with the effect of "Aspect of Lynx," instantly closed the distance to one of the guard Orcs, who was standing some distance from the throne.

His skeletal form blurred, becoming a streak of motion that caught the Orc off guard.

Before the Orc had time to react, Ethan swung his mana-wrapped sword in an upward arc. The blade hummed with power as it sliced through the Orc's left arm and chest, stopping near the upper right shoulder.

The severed arm fell with a heavy thud, and Ethan pulled back his sword, the air crackling with residual energy. By now, the other Orc was already moving, snarling and swinging its club, aiming to crush him into a pile of bones.

As the club hurtled towards him, Ethan quickly summoned "Bone Shield." The club struck the circular shield made of bone, the impact ringing out like a gong and throwing Ethan back several feet.

But thanks to his enhanced dexterity, he landed gracefully, his leather covered skeletal feet barely making a sound on the stone floor, and then quickly surveyed the room.

The shaman and the Orc it was beating were also on the move. The shaman, perched atop the Orc's shoulders, wielded a staff pulsating with energy.

The Orc held a massive, door-like wooden shield large enough to cover them both when hoisted. Seeing that they hadn't begun their attack yet, Ethan refocused on the guard Orc, intending to dispatch it quickly.

The guard Orc charged at him, muscles bulging with every step. Ethan did what anyone with a shield might do if their only training came from watching Captain America-he threw it.

The Bone Shield soared through the air like a frisbee, striking the charging Orc in the head and bouncing up before clattering to the ground, causing the Orc to stumble forward.

'The increased accuracy from Aspect of Lynx is proving invaluable,' Ethan mused as he watched the Orc falter.

Ethan sprinted towards the Orc, determined to finish it off before it could recover. As he neared, his foot slipped on a patch of loose gravel, sending him into an awkward forward roll just as a bolt of fire whizzed overhead, missing him by mere inches and exploding on the ground ahead, scattering small rocks in all directions.

'What was that?' Ethan thought as he regained his posture. 'It must be the shaman. I was lucky I slipped, otherwise…' His gaze snapped to the shaman perched on the Orc's shoulders, busy chanting another spell. The energy swirling around its staff grew more intense, the air itself seeming to vibrate with magical power.

Deciding he had to act, Ethan's eyes darted to the Bone Shield lying at the Orc's feet.

Meanwhile, the guard Orc shook its head, recovering fully from the earlier blow.

'It's a summoned item, so I hope this works. Let's try it…' Ethan focused on the Bone Shield, willing it to return to his hands. The shield responded, vanishing from the ground and reappearing in his grasp with a faint shimmer of magic.

Without pausing to celebrate, Ethan spun and hurled the shield at the shaman. The mount Orc tried to raise its massive wooden shield, but the Bone Shield was faster, sailing through the air and striking the shaman's head. The impact disrupted the shaman's spell, nearly knocking it off its perch.

The shaman's eyes flung open, locking onto Ethan with a mix of anger and frustration. Ethan smirked, the flames in his eye sockets flaring in response to his triumph.

The shaman screeched in fury, its voice a harsh, grating sound. It turned its ire on the Orc it was riding, using its club-like staff to beat the unfortunate creature.

'This is my chance,' Ethan thought as he swiftly summoned his shield and sprinted toward the guard Orc. The guard Orc saw Ethan coming and swung its club. Ethan watched the club's trajectory and ducked to avoid it. The club whistled through the air above him as he swung his sword.

The glowing blade cut through the air with a deadly hum, slicing through the Orc's left knee with ease. The Orc stumbled forward, thrown off balance by its own attack and the sudden loss of its leg, its roar of pain echoing through the chamber.

Ethan didn't stop. He used his momentum to turn and execute a crescent slash aimed at the Orc's nape. His sword connected with a sickening crunch, and…

[Critical strike! 5x Damage delivered.]

The Orc's head toppled over as a fountain of blood erupted from the wound, the room briefly illuminated by the glow of his weapon.

The Orc's body fell to the ground, lifeless.

Now, the only targets left were the shaman and the Orc it was riding.

Ethan turned towards them, only to come face to face with a ball of fire, as big as a basketball, flying towards his face.

'Shit!' Ethan hastily propped up his shield as he couldn't dodge the ball of fire-it was too near.

[-50]

["Bone Shield" dismissed]

Ethan was thrown back due to the impact and landed on the Orc's corpse, which helped soften the blow. The bone shield was gone, blown to smithereens from the damage.

'Was that a fireball?' Ethan scrambled to get back on his feet. 'Thankfully the shield took the brunt of the attack, otherwise the damage might have been higher than just 50.'

By the time it took Ethan to get on his feet, the Orc and the shaman had already closed the distance and were now only 30 meters away. The Orc was charging at him with the massive wooden shield propped up.

At the same time, mana receded from Ethan's sword, and it cracked and broke into pieces.

["Sharpen" has ended]

Ethan threw the hilt at the charging Orc and looked around, trying to formulate a plan.

The hilt struck the shield carried by the charging Orc with a metallic thunk, and a plan popped into Ethan's mind as he looked at the Orc corpse.

'What was the thing that could stop momentum? Of course-force.'

And Ethan had just the right idea about how to generate that said force-gravity.

Without wasting any time, Ethan took a few steps forward toward the charging Orc and then turned around and ran at the Orc corpse.

Stepping on its lifeless body, Ethan activated "Dash" as he jumped, his sudden increase in agility flinging him nearly 80 meters into the air.

The world seemed to slow down as Ethan soared through the air, high above the charging Orc and the shaman. Not wasting any time to enjoy the sensation of soaring, Ethan quickly opened his inventory, aimed at the enemy, and started summoning the corpses of the Orcs and goblins he had stored in the inventory.

Goblin corpses plummeted through the air and landed with a sickening thud, some slowing down the Orc's momentum, others falling directly on the shaman. Although the corpses falling on the shaman were stopped by something invisible, as they didn't hurt it and just bounced off.

The sudden corpse shower made the shaman and Orc confused. The Orc stopped, and they both looked up, intending to figure out the source of such weirdness when their vision was blocked by something massive hurling directly atop them.

And before they had time to react, an Orc corpse fell directly on them, then another, and another.

Ethan only stopped at three because he was also starting to fall down and was now a distance away from the enemies.

---

A damage notification rang out and Ethan's tibia developed a crack, indicating fall damage.

Ignoring the damage, Ethan stood up from his crouch stance and looked at the small mound of Orc corpses. There were no more notifications, and Ethan understood that his enemies weren't dead yet, although they ought to be heavily injured judging by the weight of those massive corpses.

Still keeping caution in mind, Ethan quickly went towards the weapon rack and stored every good weapon in his inventory. He then went near the throne and started collecting the potion vials. The vials were of different colors-some red, some blue, green, yellow, and black.

After storing the vials safely in his inventory, Ethan's sight went towards the corpse mound, which had started to tremble slightly-the shaman and the Orc were trying to get out.

Ethan quickly sprinted forward, intending to not give them a chance to get free and fight him in a head-on confrontation.

In a matter of seconds, Ethan reached the mound of corpses. The trembling had intensified into a full-on shaking, and soon the topmost corpse began to stir. With a slow, eerie movement, it tumbled off the mound.

'This is it,' Ethan thought, readying himself for what lay beneath.

A green hand emerged from the fallen corpse, immediately met by Ethan's spear thrust. A muffled roar echoed from beneath the mound as the hand thrashed about.

Ethan withdrew the spear and stabbed downward into the mound where the hand had emerged. He felt it penetrate deep, and after a stifled roar, a notification appeared.

[You have killed a Level 8 Orc. You gained 800 Exp.]

With the Orc dispatched, Ethan now focused on the shaman.

Suddenly, a dangerous premonition struck Ethan.

Before he could react, a wide ray of lightning shot through the mound, engulfing him completely.

[-62]

---

[You are stunned! You cannot move or use your skills for the duration: 5 seconds.]

Thrown back and charred in places, Ethan crashed off the mound. The lightning had burnt the corpses to crisps and left a gaping dent in the ceiling.

The shaman stood unharmed within a colorless bubble shimmering with protective magic.

[Duration: 4 seconds]

The shaman's cruel grin widened as it beheld the stunned skeleton. Raising its staff, it began chanting another spell, conjuring a swirling flame at its tip.

[Duration: 2 seconds]

With a final gesture, the shaman launched a blazing fireball at Ethan, who took the impact squarely.

[-52]

[Duration: 0 seconds]

Ethan was hurled backward, his bones blackened and several ribs cracked from the intense heat.

Thankfully, the stun wore off, and Ethan could act again. He quickly used "Fortify" and "Skeletal Repair" multiple times to mend some of his damaged health.

[50]

Now left with only 30 mana, Ethan saw the shaman preparing another spell, intent on finishing him.

But Ethan wasn't about to wait. He drew two daggers and activated "Sharpen," depleting 20 mana in the process. 'So, I can use it on multiple weapons, huh. Good to know.'

Throwing one dagger and then activating "Dash," Ethan propelled himself towards the shaman. The dagger, with a bluish glow, struck the shaman's invisible bubble, causing it to shatter into shimmering glass-like fragments before dissipating into the air.

Startled, the shaman's eyes widened as its concentration broke, only to see a glowing dagger hurtling towards it, guided by the hands of a charred skeleton.

[You have killed a Level 3 goblin shaman. You gained 3000 Exp.]

[Secondary Mission Complete: Find and defeat a dungeon boss.]

---

A/N: I have a lot of work. I have to write assignments that I have been slacking on, have internal exams at college, then finals which I'm going through rn. Also a job. So, I'm sorry for the late chapters.

No worries tho, even if I post slowly, I will keep posting multiple chapter together.

Ch-10: Knowledge of Ascendency

A/N: Last chapter of the dungeon, next chapter Marvel.

---

A few hours had passed since Ethan completed his Secondary Mission. Sitting on the fur-draped throne that once belonged to the goblin shaman, he scrolled through the [EVOLUTION] tab, meticulously analyzing his potential paths.

For the past hour, he had been absorbed in the numerous evolution paths that appeared, reading their descriptions and assessing their strength.

---

Path 1:

Skeleton - Wraith Skeleton - Phantom Skeleton - Spectral Knight - Spectral Lord - Ghost King

Path 2:

Skeleton - Frost Skeleton - Ice Revenant - Frost Wight - Glacial Lich - Absolute Overlord

Path 3:

Skeleton - Warrior Skeleton - Bone Knight - Death Knight - Warlord of Bones - Undead General

Path 4:

Skeleton - Fire Skeleton - Blazing Revenant - Infernal Wight - Hellfire Lich - Inferno Overlord

Path 5:

Skeleton - Skeleton Fighter - Rune-Bound Skeleton - Rune Master Skeleton - Rune Lich - Rune Overlord

Path 6:

Skeleton - Poison Skeleton - Venom Revenant - Toxic Wight - Plague Lich - Pestilence Overlord

---

Path 96:

Skeleton - Illusion Skeleton - Phantom Conjurer - Mirage Architect - Genesis Lich - Creator Overlord

Path 97:

Skeleton - Shadow Skeleton Mage - Dark Skeleton Mage - Skeleton Archmage - Elder Lich - Abyssal Overlord

Path 98:

Skeleton - Shadow Skeleton - Shadow Revenant - Shadow Wight - Night Lich - Shadow Overlord

Path 99:

Skeleton - Shadow Skeleton - Shadow Knight - Dark Wraith - Night Lich - Shadow Overlord

Path 100:

Skeleton - Shadow Skeleton - Umbral Skeleton - Umbral Revenant - Umbral Wight - Umbral Lich - Umbral Overlord

---

After an exhaustive review, Ethan reached a few conclusions. The evolution paths were divided into six tiers, with the sixth tier representing the highest level of power.

He noted that these paths were quite linear, which was contrary to the scientific definition of evolution's complexity and branching nature.

'These linear paths are probably a game mechanic,' Ethan mused. 'But my ability to create custom paths might be what sets me apart from the monsters.'

Ethan's attention shifted to the small box in the lower right corner of the screen labeled "Custom."

'Time to see how much customization I can really do,' he thought, feeling a surge of anticipation.

With that thought, he clicked on the button and a new panel appeared in his vision.

The panel was quite simple, displaying five blue boxes and two grayed-out ones.

The first grayed box had "Skeleton" written in it, while the seventh box had a "???" symbol.

Between each box was the "-" symbol, and there was a "" sign under every box from the second to the sixth.

Ethan could deduce some things from the panel's structure and the prior information he had from his perk, but instead of blindly speculating further, he decided to check things out.

He clicked on the second box, and a drop-down menu appeared, sporting a scroll bar on its right side.

The contents of the menu matched what Ethan had deduced earlier-all the tier 2 evolutions were listed.

He scrolled nearly to the bottom and decided to choose "Shadow Skeleton," a decision he had arrived at after a lot of thought and exploration.

Ethan didn't choose it because it was cool or edgy but because it genuinely suited him. "Shadow Skeleton" was an evolution that attuned him to the element of Darkness, making him very stealthy.

Being an introvert, he appreciated the idea of melding into shadows and doing his own thing undisturbed.

Additionally, this evolution also strengthened his physique as this evolution was similar to the assassin class. It offsetted the initial disadvantage of his next choice-a cherry on top.

After making his selection, the menu disappeared, and the second box was filled in, although it was still changeable and not greyed out like the first and seventh boxes.

Then Ethan clicked on the third box. Again, a drop-down menu appeared, but this time the scrollbar's thumb was noticeably larger than before, indicating that the options had become more limited.

He scrolled through the options and found that only the evolutions related to "Shadow" from tier two were available.

Ethan selected another one that he had planned prior, while selecting the tier two evolution.

The third box was filled with "Dark Skeleton Mage."

This selection came with the thought that only mages were beings with the ultimate knowledge and control over their domains, at least in almost every fantasy setting he had ever read. 'Mages always hold the key to true power,' he mused, affirming his choice.

Then the fourth box was opened. The scroll bar was gone, leaving only four options.

Ethan selected "Demi-Lich."

When he opened the fifth box, only two options were left: "Night Lich" and "Elder Lich."

"Elder Lich" filled the fifth box. This choice solidified his path, one of immense magical prowess and control over all aspects of darkness.

Finally, the last customizable option was opened, revealing only one option.

With some trepidation, Ethan clicked on it, and "Abyssal Overlord" filled the box.

And then… nothing happened.

Ethan had expected as much, mainly because of the save button at the bottom. He looked at the save option, intending to click it, but he hesitated. Giving the translucent blue window in front of him another glance, he remembered that he hadn't clicked on the "" symbols under the boxes.

His ivory white finger reached for the symbol under the tier two box. As soon as he touched it, another box appeared underneath it, separated by the "" symbol but without any additional symbol underneath.

Similarly, he clicked the "" underneath all the boxes, and the same thing happened. Each box now had an additional box underneath it and the seventh box had shifted slightly, appearing in the center of the set of boxes with a "" sign before it.

He then clicked and opened the second box. As before, a long list appeared, but the "Shadow Skeleton" option was greyed out. 'Of course, I can't select the same evolution again,' he thought, scrolling through the list.

Due to there being no explanation and no answer even when he asked questions to the system, Ethan came to a conclusion on his own.

This second set of boxes was an additional path, which could add more abilities to his evolutions, making him far more unique and strong than any other monster species.

Looking at the multitude of options, Ethan thought of something that could add aspects not already available in the first evolutionary path.

Most of the elements didn't provide anything special to his already efficient build, but then his eyes went to "Illusion Skeleton."

Although in the upper-tier evolutions of his custom path he could use darkness to manipulate the psyche of beings and conjure nightmares, it was the end of this "illusion" path that caught his eye-"Creator Overlord."

That meant once he reached that level, he could probably create, at the bare minimum, planets.

That was something not possible within any other element. Earth element-related evolutions could probably be similar, but Ethan had a sneaking suspicion that this option would be vastly different from those just because this one started with illusion.

In the fantasy settings that explored the element of illusion, which was quite rare as illusion was truly underappreciated across media, most of them, at their strongest could make things out of nothing-conjuring things just out of the power of the mind.

That was akin to having the Reality Stone, whose power needed no explanation.

Ethan quickly chose the option and just copy-pasted the path along the other boxes too, without any changes, as there weren't many different paths in illusion to begin with.

With only two options across the tier two and three, "Illusion Skeleton" was a better choice than "Ethereal Skeleton," which evolved into "Phantasm Summoner" and then merged back into "Genesis Lich."

After everything was done, he clicked on the save option, and the window simply closed with a small notification: "Saved." He was back in the evolutionary path menu, except with a single change.

At the top of the screen, beside the "Evolutionary Paths" option, there was another button labeled "Evolve."

Ethan clicked on it, and the view transformed to display another set of boxes. These boxes were marked under "Path 1" and "Path 2." Under "Path 1," the initial option listed was "Shadow Skeleton."

Adjacent to it were three boxes: the first two separated by a "" symbol, followed by a ":" symbol, another box, and finally another "" symbol at the end.

Ethan reached out and clicked on the first box. A notification promptly appeared: "No related Evolutionary material available in the inventory."

'Where am I going to find evolutionary materials when I don't even know what to look for?' Ethan pondered. Almost as if in response to his silent plea, a prompt appeared in front of him.

[Do you wish to enable "Minimap"?]

[Yes] [No]

He clicked [Yes, and a small, circular panel appeared in the top right corner of his vision. It was translucent, ensuring it did not hinder his view.

When Ethan focused on it, the panel expanded slightly, becoming more opaque. In the center of the panel was a red triangle, its pointed end indicating the direction he was facing. Just beside it was a blue circle.

In the lower left corner of the circle, there was a yellow dot.

From his experience with video games, Ethan knew that minimaps could be expanded, revealing more detailed information about the symbols used within them.

So, he reached forward and touched the panel, causing it to expand and display in a square format, which he could scroll around.

As he had anticipated, a set of legends appeared, explaining the symbols on the map.

There were numerous symbols, but Ethan focused on the primary ones.

The red triangle at the center indicated his position.

The yellow circle denoted treasure or useful items.

A red circle indicated marked enemies, and a blue circle signified mana stones.

There were other symbols, but they were not necessary at the moment.

After closing the full map, Ethan directed his gaze towards the location of the yellow circle and his eyes fell upon the small door that had once been guarded by the pair of Orcs.

'So, that's where the treasure is hidden. Hopefully, there are items related to my evolution too,' he thought.

Ethan rose from the comfortable throne and made his way towards the small door. He opened it and stepped inside. As he entered the room, a notification appeared in his field of vision:

[Optional mission complete: Discover the hidden treasure room.]

He dismissed the notification and surveyed the room. Inside, he found what could only be described as a treasure hoard-a massive mound of gold coins, necklaces, and assorted valuables.

At the pinnacle of this glittering pile sat a small treasure chest, just large enough to be held in one hand. The mound of treasure nearly reached his head.

Almost instinctively, Ethan felt an inexplicable pull towards the small treasure chest at the top. He knew it wasn't a charm effect-he was immune to such things.

No, this was something more primal, an instinct that seemed to emanate from deep within his bones, from the very desires of his species.

Ethan waded through the gold, his eyes fixed on the chest. As soon as he touched it, a prompt appeared before him:

[An item related to "Evolve" found. Do you want to store it in the inventory?]

Realization dawned on Ethan as he understood the nature of his reaction. He promptly selected "Yes," and the treasure chest vanished from his hands, securely stored in his inventory.

'That's a good thing, I guess. With that sort of instinct, I'll know which items are necessary to collect in the future,' he thought.

Turning his attention to the rest of the treasure around him, Ethan decided to take it all. As the gold disappeared from the ground, it was automatically sorted into various icons in his inventory.

There was a coin icon, a jewelry icon, a jewel icon, and a utensils icon-all in gold color, except for the jewel icon, which displayed a small gem of multiple colors.

Satisfied with his haul, Ethan's mind drifted back to his evolution. He opened the Evolutionary Paths panel again. This time, under "Path 1," the first box was filled with the treasure chest icon, but the second and third boxes were still empty, indicating he still couldn't evolve.

With a sigh, Ethan closed the tab and opened [Missions] to check how much longer he had to remain in the dungeon. The tab displayed:

{Primary Mission}: Survive your first dungeon delve.

{Time Limit: 6 days}

'So I just have to lounge around for the next six days. Guess I can come up with some plans to survive in the Marvel world while I'm here,' he thought.

Ethan considered his options. He could venture out and hunt monsters in the different parts of the forest for the next six days, collect experience points, and perhaps his progress wouldn't reset to zero after his evolution, allowing for instant level-ups.

However, he was acutely aware of how unfamiliar this world was and recognized that he wasn't strong enough to explore it blindly. While his luck might aid him, there was always the risk of encountering something so powerful that luck alone wouldn't suffice.

Yes, luck was helpful, but true strength was one's own. With that thought, the introverted skeleton decided to spend the next six days in the dead boss's room, contemplating strategies and honing his skills.

After 6 days…

Ethan watched the time limit count down to zero.

---

[00:09]

…

---

[Mission Complete: Survive your first dungeon delve.

Rewards obtained: 50 coins, Newbie Package, 1 Level UP (will automatically be used after evolution), [Initiate Dungeon Delve] - [End Dungeon Delve] skills.]

A grin spread across Ethan's face as he reviewed the notifications. He swiftly opened his inventory and selected the "Newbie Package".

[Do you want to open "Newbie Package"?]

Selecting "Yes," he watched as a small animation played. The package tore open, revealing two images that floated before him, each with a description at the bottom: "Weapon Slime: 1kg" and "Armor Slime: 1kg." The images depicted a pair of translucent black blobs.

Ethan first clicked on "Weapon Slime: 1kg" to read the details.

[Weapon Slime: Created with the experimentations of a teenager with chuunibyou syndrome, these slimes can transform into a variety of preset weapons with a simple injection of mana.

Note: The slimes are dead and therefore not sentient.]

A memory of an anime from his previous life flashed through Ethan's mind, where the protagonist used slimes in a similar manner.

Intrigued, he clicked on "Armor Slime" to confirm his suspicions.

[Armor Slime: Created with the experimentations of a teenager with chuunibyou syndrome, these slimes can transform into a variety of preset armors and clothes with a simple injection of mana.

Note: The slimes are dead and therefore not sentient.]

'Let's try them out,' Ethan thought as he equipped both items from his inventory.

The slimes appeared as translucent blobs-one in his hand and the other flowing over his body, dissolving the tattered leather armor he wore.

Focusing on the slimes, Ethan connected with them intuitively, channeling a small amount of his mana into the pair. The slimes began to shift and morph according to his preferences.

The slime on his body transformed into a sleek black biker jacket, complete with black gloves, pants, and boots. It then extended to cover his head with a hood.

Meanwhile, the slime in his hand reshaped into an arming sword, 30 inches in length, with a sturdy crossguard.

Impressed by their versatility, Ethan experimented further. The weapon slime effortlessly morphed into various forms: a baseball bat, a crowbar, a scythe, a katana, a longsword, a zweihander, a warhammer, a mace, even a pistol and rifles.

Although the firearms couldn't fire, their mere presence underscored the utility of the slimes.

Similarly, the armor slime could be fashioned into any shape, although it was limited to darker tones-perhaps a quirk of its original creator.

After thoroughly testing their capabilities, Ethan finally settled on transforming the weapon slime into a set of hidden knives akin to those in the Assassin's Creed games, while keeping his attire the same as the first time.

Satisfied, he turned his attention to his newly acquired skills and selected:

[End Dungeon Delve]

---

A/N:

Point out anything I might've missed, any plot holes.

BTW this is not just the end of customisation of evolution. There are more customisations waiting, in the "Evolve" option after ":" this symbol.

Ch-11: Bones of Insight: Gathering knowledge

There was a brief period of blinding light, and then the familiar monochrome scene appeared before Ethan.

It was the same sewer where he had woken up seven days ago. The sound of dripping water echoed around him. The damp, narrow passages were just as he remembered them, though the rancid stench of decay and waste, fortunately, didn't affect him in his skeletal form.

Ethan noticed the missing Minimap, and his thoughts turned. Perhaps the feature was only available for the Dungeon worlds to facilitate the delver with his missions.

Before he could do much though, Ethan was greeted by the cheerful robotic-holographic guide again.

"Congratulations on surviving your first and most important dungeon delve! You must've understood many things about the system by experiencing it firsthand on your own." it said, it's hand clapping while the word "Subarashi!" floated over its head.

Before Ethan could get a word in, it continued, "And I see that you got some new gooey gears, too."

Ethan nodded, slightly appreciating the guide's exaggerated style after the past few days of bore. "Yeah, I did. But, I have some questions."

In the past seven days, Ethan had figured out a lot about the workings of the System, but there were still things that eluded his understanding.

The first thing on his mind was the optional mission he remembered from his first day-how it had appeared out of the blue. He wanted to understand how the mission system worked.

The guide tilted its head in an affirmative gesture, its outfit changing into that of a 60's teacher with a coat, pants and a tie along with a spectacle to complete the look.

"Alright, go ahead." it said, as pointing stick appeared in his hand while a blank screen appeared behind him.

Ethan started, his ghastly voice filling the silent emptiness of the wet sewer. "I want to ask about the missions. How are they assigned? Are they premeditated? Are they only available in dungeons? Can I get a mission if I work towards something?… Tell me everything."

The holographic guide looked blank for a second, as if processing his request, and then it began to speak with the same exaggerated flair it always sported. "The missions you receive are categorized into two types." it tapped the stick on the blank screen and the words appeared.

"First, there are the missions assigned to you at the start of dungeon worlds. These missions are premeditated to guide your initial steps and ensure you engage with the dungeon's challenges effectively."

Ethan listened intently, noting the guide's precise phrasing.

"Second," the guide continued, the words changing as he did, "are the missions that appear based on your thoughts and actions. These are more dynamic and responsive to your personal goals and the situations you encounter. Essentially, if you work towards something with enough determination and focus, the system may generate a mission related to that goal."

Ethan's mind raced with possibilities. "So, if I set a specific goal, like finding an infinity stone or defeating Thanos, the system might create a mission for that?"

"Exactly! A show of hands for Mr. Ethan Blackett, everybody." The guide clapped and then another set of claps rang out from the unknown, making it seem like a group of people were clapping.

Ethan didn't react to it, already affiliated with the guide's antics. Then the clapping stopped and the guide continued.

"These missions are designed to be flexible and adaptive, providing rewards that correspond to the difficulty and significance of the task. However, it's important to note that while the assigned missions are relatively vague at the beginning, they evolve based on the information you discover."

Ethan nodded slowly, absorbing this new information. "So, the missions I get at the start aren't fixed. They can change as I uncover more details?"

"Correct," the guide replied. "As you progress and gather more information, the parameters of these missions can shift to better align with your current situation and objectives. This ensures that the missions remain relevant and challenging."

Ethan rubbed his immaculate jawline thoughtfully, his mind wandering back to the mission information he had read about defeating "the" boss, which later changed to defeating "a" boss after he discovered there were other monsters.

At that time, he had thought it was a reading mistake, but now he was sure that it had changed after he found out there were other monsters.

"So, the system adapts the missions based on what I discover?" Ethan asked, wanting to confirm his understanding.

"Indeed," the guide said, its tone bright and encouraging. "The system is designed to support your growth and ensure that you are continually challenged, providing opportunities for you to enhance your skills and gather valuable rewards."

Feeling a bit more enlightened, Ethan decided to ask another question. "And what about the rewards? How are they determined?"

"Rewards are also based on the mission's difficulty and your performance," the guide explained.

"Completing more challenging missions or achieving objectives with exceptional skill can yield greater rewards. This is to incentivize you to take on harder tasks and to perform at your best. And on that note, you just got bonus rewards for your excellent performance in your first dungeon - ignoring the fact that you were a skeleton with unlimited stamina," the guide murmured the last part under its breath.

Hearing that, Ethan's ivory finger quickly extended towards the [Inventory] tab, which opened to reveal an expanded set of boxes. The inventory, previously a 4x4 grid, had now become a 4x5 grid.

"How's that? A good reward, innit? Keep working hard, and they'll be even better," the guide said. Its appearance shifted, now dressed like a corporate boss talking to a diligent worker, complete with a pinstripe suit and a bowler hat, exuding an air of mock professionalism.

Ethan smirked at that, feeling that in some ways, he did feel like a worker-albeit one with massive benefits and only giving back slightly in return. His situation reminded him of Caine from "Acts of Caine."

One day, he thought, he would also escape whatever chains held him and emerge free, especially in this world where he could potentially become a god. Although it would still be nearly impossible, given the scale of it.

Ethan then remembered that the guide could hear his thoughts to some degree, prompting him to glance quickly at it. However, it seemed oblivious to his treacherous thoughts, still waiting for him to respond.

Ethan mentally sighed in relief, though he couldn't understand how the guide hadn't picked up on his musings. Still, instead of continuing that line of thinking, he responded to the guide's previous question.

Closing his inventory, he said, "Alright, that clarifies a lot. Thanks."

"You're welcome!" the guide chirped, changing back to the teacher's attire. "If you have any more questions, don't hesitate to ask."

A few questions whirled in Ethan's mind. He sorted through them and finally decided to ask about the most recent and important development. "Can you tell me about the 'Evolution' system and how it works? I have a few things figured out, but I still don't know everything, especially how to evolve."

The guide's expression shifted to one of scholarly enthusiasm, it adjusted his glasses and started. "Ah, the Evolution system! Quite fascinating, indeed. Let's delve into it."

"Typically, normal monsters follow predetermined evolutionary paths. These paths can sometimes interconnect and merge with those of other monsters of the same type. For instance, the paths of plant-based monsters may intersect and merge at certain points in their evolutionary journey. The same applies to undead creatures and other types of monsters," the guide explained, its holographic form gesturing animatedly as if lecturing a classroom full of students.

"This system starts with a wide array of species and variables at the lower levels. However, as you progress, some paths merge, while others end abruptly, never reaching the higher tiers. Therefore, there aren't as many top evolutions as there are at the lower levels."

The guide paused for effect, its blue dot-like eyes changing into stars, showing excitement. "We call this the Evolutionary Network, due to its branching and converging nature."

"There isn't a single apex evolution to maintain balance within the system. But you, Ethan, should consider yourself quite fortunate. All your evolutionary paths reach the top due to your 'Evolutionary' perk. This means you can break this balance. Unlike other monsters who follow random routes without knowing where they'll end up, you have the unique ability to create your own custom evolutionary path-two of them, in fact. With some ingenuity, you can potentially reach the apex."

Ethan's mind buzzed with the possibilities as the guide continued, "Moreover, these evolutions can be enhanced with added ingredients. This means that you can augment your chosen paths with special materials, increasing their power and versatility."

Ethan's curiosity piqued, he asked, "What do you mean, adding ingredients to my evolution?"

The guide's eyes changed into stars at the prospect of another detailed explanation. "Ah, excellent question! You see, adding ingredients to your evolution means you can incorporate external elements-such as creatures, magical totems, or items-into your evolutionary process. These ingredients strengthen both your soul and body, depending on their nature."

The guide continued, "For example, you might use a creature with the ability to use blood related powers to gain a blood-related skill, absorb the magic of a totem, or acquire the abilities of a specific item. However, not every item or totem is a viable ingredient. But, almost all types of creatures can be used."

Ethan's mind raced with the possibilities as the guide elaborated. "These added ingredients don't change the basis of your evolution; they simply add extra skills. So, you'll retain the core attributes and strengths of your chosen evolutionary path while enhancing your capabilities with these additional powers."

Ethan's thoughts surged with ideas about how he could evolve and become stronger in the future, especially considering the myriad of magical items and creatures in the Marvel universe.

The prospect of acquiring unique abilities from the mutants, aliens and the self proclaimed gods along with the multitude of serums, artifacts from the Kamar-taj, the Collector and the Grandmaster, filled him with exhilaration.

Moreover, he also had access to dungeon worlds, which added nearly infinite amounts of items to further augment his evolution.

Noticing Ethan's contemplation, the guide's attire changed again. It stroked its long white beard, a strange sight against its otherwise robotic head.

Its style seemed reminiscent of those Chinese sages from the cultivation novels Ethan read in his past life.

"Remember, Ethan, this system gives you the tools, but it's your creativity and strategy that will set you apart. Use your resources wisely and think ahead. The potential is vast, but it's up to you to harness it."

'Set you apart'-from whom? Ethan wondered, but then he recalled "ZYA" which symbolised the number of different universes and his designation as participant number #001, indicating the existence of other reincarnators across those various universes.

'Perhaps someday, I will meet them.'

"Any last questions before I leave you on your own?" The guide asked, twirling his pointer stick, now back in his teaching attire.

Ethan thought carefully, then remembered the [Gacha].

"Tell me about Gacha. How it works? What type of items can I get? Etcetera, etcetera."

The guide paused, the stick transforming into a long scroll which unrolled itself mid-air, displaying a diagram of the Gacha system.

"Ah, the Gacha," the guide began, pointing to various parts of the diagram that had materialized in the air. "This mechanism allows you to obtain items, summon cards, skills, potions, and more, from all the worlds under the One Above All's domain. At its core, the Gacha is a roulette wheel of possibilities."

He pointed to a section labeled 'Items' with vivid illustrations of weapons, potions, and various tools. "Items can range from 'Common' to 'Legendary', denoted by their background color." A list of colors denoting item rarity was displayed beneath the illustrations:

- Colorless background for trash-grade items

- White for common items

- Green for uncommon items

- Blue for rare items

- Purple for epic items

- Sparkling gold for legendary items

The guide continued, "At your current level, expect 'Common', low-tier items. Over time, as you advance and upgrade the Gacha, the quality and rarity of items will improve."

The guide's stick moved to another section marked 'Summon Cards,' showing images of various characters. "Summon cards allow you to call upon 'named' entities or companions from other fictional worlds to aid you. Initially, these will be street-level characters, but over time, you can summon beings like Superman or Goku."

"Summon cards create a copy of a named character from a parallel world," the guide continued, "who is at most as strong as peak human level. As for the lower limit, it can even be a fly, if it's named. The cards are divided into stars with 1 star cards being able to only summon street level characters while higher star cards are able to summon higher powered characters.

"After using a character summon card, another card will appear representing the character, which can be stored in the inventory. After summoning them, they will be 100% loyal to you, though they can't be forced into self-harm or suicide. And forcing them to act against their core ideologies might cause them to go rogue."

Ethan's non existent brows furrowed. "What if the summons are complete psychos or supervillains, like Joker or Carnage? They might be loyal and unable to harm me, but they could still act on their own. What happens if they do something I don't like and I can't make them stop?"

The guide nodded, acknowledging the concern. "A good question. Summons can be unsummoned and stored in your inventory in case of emergencies. However, this should only be used as a last resort since unsummoned characters have a cooldown period of one year before they can be resummoned.

"Alternatively, if you don't want the summon to occupy your inventory space, you can permanently unsummon it. Another thing to note is that you are limited in the amount of summons you can gain. The limit is three at your current level which can increase in future."

Ethan understood and then asked, "What about their lifespans? Will they die if a summon is old? Can summons be enhanced using things from this world?"

The guide sighed, seemingly fatigued by the barrage of questions, but answered patiently. "Summons are connected to this world through you. They won't age or die of natural causes as long as you are alive, although they can be killed. And yes, they can be enhanced by technology or magic from this world, provided it's compatible with them."

Ethan nodded, thinking about the potential to make even weak summons strong with the right tools.

Next, the guide highlighted a section titled 'Skills.' "Skills can be acquired through the Gacha, providing you with new abilities or enhancing your existing ones. The level of these skills will start low but can be incredibly useful."

The stick then hovered over 'Potions' and 'Miscellaneous.' "Potions can heal, temporarily enhance abilities, or grant unique effects, sometimes even permanent ones. Miscellaneous items can be almost anything, offering a wide variety of utilities."

The guide rolled the scroll back up with a flick of his wrist. "However, understand this: the Gacha is currently at level 1. Its offerings are modest, and its true potential is yet untapped."

"How do I upgrade the Gacha?" Ethan inquired.

"An excellent question," the guide said, his eyes twinkling as he stowed the scroll away. "Instead of conventional currency, the Gacha requires time as its currency. The first upgrade will occur after a few years of use. This ensures you are not overwhelmed by high-tier items early on, forcing you to grow and adapt to your surroundings first."

"So, I have to be patient," Ethan noted.

"Precisely," the guide affirmed, nodding sagely. "Patience, resourcefulness, and strategic thinking will serve you well. Any further questions?"

Ethan shook his head, most of his curiosity about the system sated. "No, I think I'm good for now."

The guide gave a final nod, his form shimmering slightly. "Very well, Ethan. Remember, my student, the journey ahead is long and filled with challenges. Use your gifts wisely, and never stop learning. Farewell, for now."

With that, a string of letters floated above the guide, accompanied by the pop of multiple party poppers.

"Farewell Mr. Guide, you were the best," the words spelled out, sparkling in mid-air.

"Oh! Thank you, thank you so much. I hope I taught you well." The guide took off its spectacles and wiped his facial screen of digital tears.

Ethan stood there, jaw slightly agape, watching the guide exit through a door that materialized behind it. As soon as the guide stepped through, the door vanished, leaving Ethan alone in the damp sewer.

The sound of skittering rats and the pattering of water echoed around him, grounding him back in the reality of his situation.

Finally, he decided to use the gacha…

---

2800 words

A/N: Hope you weren't bored by the info dump, if you were, sorry, hopefully, they won't have to be done in the future.

I only did it here because it seemed like the most straightforward approach, as the system won't have much instructions or the like, since it's quite rudimentary.

And there are still things, a lot of things in fact, for Ethan to figure out in the future by himself.

Next chapter is Gacha use, Slight spoiler:

He is going to get a character summon and an item summon, guess the character and suggest some items, which can be regarded as low leveled but still somewhat useful.

Thanks for your patience…

Ch-12: Rolling the Bones: A Gacha Gamble

Opening the [Gacha, Ethan came face to face with a shiny roulette wheel segmented by numerous small lines, each representing a variety of items available in the drawing pool.

The blue flames in his eye sockets simmered and focused on two rectangular boxes beneath the wheel.

[Spin x2] [Spin x1]

Without much thought, Ethan opted for the first option, appreciating the convenience of it.

As his gloves finger touched the button, the wheel began to spin. A few seconds later, it stopped abruptly, and two shiny little stars flew out from the wheel, expanding in front of Ethan's vision to reveal their descriptions.

[Congratulations, you have obtained "1 Random Character Summon Card"]

[Congratulations, you have obtained item card "Wrist Mounted Rope Dart"]

Ethan's mind raced with thoughts. The summon card excited him immensely; the possibilities were thrilling. As for the rope dart, it could prove quite useful in both navigation and combat, especially in the tight confines of the sewer.

But first, he needed someone who could scout outside the sewer, someone capable of gathering information about their surroundings. The character summon seemed the perfect solution.

Eager to see what the summon card would bring, Ethan used it immediately. A bright light appeared, condensing into a card. As the light dissipated, a blue box materialized in his vision.

[Congratulations, you have obtained a summon card "Alfred Thaddeus Crane Pennyworth (Prime Earth)"]

Ethan stared at the card depicting a middle-aged man in a butler costume, glowing before him. His non-existent breathing quickened, and the flames in his eyes burned brighter. 'Alfred Pennyworth… the legendary butler who once bested Superman. This is incredible.'

He decided to use the card right away, and in an instant, the man himself appeared before him. Ethan's excitement surged-this was the first time he saw a fictional character come to life.

The man standing before him was middle-aged with a slight receding hairline, but even under his butler costume, the signs of knotted muscles were visible. Ethan was momentarily stunned by the sight, brought out of his stupor only when Alfred introduced himself with a slight bow, placing a hand on his chest.

"Master Blackett, Alfred Pennyworth at your service. How may I help you?"

Ethan calmed himself before speaking. "Mister Alfred, welcome. Can you tell me about yourself?"

"Certainly, Master Blackett. My full name is Alfred Thaddeus Crane Pennyworth, but you can call me Alfred. I am an ex-soldier and spy, and I also worked as a stage actor for a few years. Now, I have been assigned to assist you in your endeavors, whatever they may be," Alfred said respectfully.

Ethan raised his non-existent eyebrows, thinking to himself, 'His past matches what I know about him, but what about his present?'

"Alright, I will call you Alfred. So, Alfred, tell me what you know about Bruce Wayne?"

If this Alfred had memories of helping Batman, then he must have some knowledge about his gadgets and gizmos. Who knows when they could prove useful.

"Ah, Master Bruce," Alfred began, a nostalgic gleam in his eyes. "When I was summoned here, Master Bruce was but a child of four years and I had only recently entered the Wayne household."

Ethan listened intently, noting Alfred's deep connection to the Wayne family.

"Young Master Bruce," Alfred continued, "was a spirited and inquisitive child, always eager to explore and learn. I remember vividly the first day I met him. He was in the garden, attempting to climb a tree far too tall for his young limbs. His determination was palpable even then. I had only been with the Waynes for a few months, just settling into my role as caretaker and protector of the young master and the household."

Ethan could almost see the scene unfolding in his mind. Alfred's voice was filled with affection and a hint of melancholy, speaking volumes about his dedication to the Wayne family.

"I began working for the Waynes after my father, Jarvis Pennyworth, died," Alfred continued. "It was a role I took on with great pride, knowing that I was following in my father's footsteps. Master Bruce was a bright light, a constant reminder of why I had chosen this path."

Ethan understood now that this Alfred had not yet witnessed Bruce's transformation into Batman. The knowledge and experience of Gotham's greatest detective and his arsenal of gadgets were not something Alfred could provide. However, Alfred's steadfast loyalty and skills were invaluable in their own right.

"I see," Ethan replied, processing the information. 'You won't be able to replicate Batman's gadgets, but your skills and experience will still be incredibly useful.'

Ethan then asked another question, wanting to gauge Alfred's awareness of their current reality. "What do you know about this world?"

Alfred's eyes looked up as if recalling something. "I have no memory pertaining to this world. However, Master Blackett, I was informed by the guide that I can share your memories if you wish."

'That's convenient,' Ethan thought. 'Especially since he is completely loyal to me. And, I won't have to educate my future summons about everything from scratch.'

"Alright, do you know how I can share my memories with you?" Ethan inquired, and Alfred nodded.

"Indeed, Master Blackett," Alfred began in his refined, British accent. "The guide mentioned that we must be in physical contact. Once that is established, you need only to think about the memories you wish to share, and a prompt should appear in your vision."

"Very well," Ethan responded, stepping forward. His gloved hand reached out and rested on Alfred's shoulder.

Ethan concentrated on the essential memories he had about the Marvel universe. He started with the first Captain America movie, then moved on to Iron Man, Thor, Hulk, and the first Avengers film. He included details about mutants, Inhumans, Skrulls, and Nick Fury. His goal was to provide Alfred with enough information to identify key characters, locations, and timelines.

He waited for the prompt to appear, but seconds ticked by with nothing happening. As more time passed, even Ethan, with his calm demeanor, felt the situation becoming awkward.

'What the hell is going on? Damn it!' he cursed internally, his jaw parting in an expression of repressed frustration.

Alfred released a polite cough, drawing Ethan's attention. "I believe, Master Blackett, that the memory share might require direct physical contact," Alfred suggested in his characteristic, measured tone.

Ethan's eye flames flickered in realization. "Direct contact, right. Let's try again."

Ethan adjusted his grip, this time retracting his glove and placing his skeletal hand directly on Alfred's shoulder. He concentrated once more, focusing on the memories he intended to share. Moments later, a faint, translucent prompt appeared in his vision, confirming the connection.

[Do you wish to share these memories with your summon?]

[Yes] [No]

Ethan chose yes.

Alfred's eyes momentarily glazed over as the memories transferred. When the process was complete, he straightened and gave a slight nod. "Thank you, Master Blackett. The information is quite comprehensive. I shall use this knowledge to assist you to the best of my abilities."

Ethan nodded, relieved that the transfer had finally worked. "Good. Now we will have a clearer picture of what we're dealing with, once you are outside."

"So, what are my orders, Master Blackett?" Alfred inquired, his voice steady and respectful, embodying the quintessential British butler.

"Well, the first thing you have to do, Alfred, is go outside and gather all the essential information needed to know where we are," Ethan instructed. "Once you do that, gather some essential items and check out a place where I can live safely, away from any prying eyes. And here," He paused, then mentally reached into his inventory, summoning a handful of the jewelry he had taken from the dungeon. "take this with you. It will be useful."

Alfred accepted the jewelry with a nod, his expression remaining composed.

Ethan watched as Alfred tucked the jewelry away with practiced ease, his movements precise and unhurried. "Your discretion in this matter is crucial, Alfred. We need to stay under the radar for now."

"Understood, Master Blackett," Alfred responded, his tone unwavering. "I shall proceed with the utmost caution and efficiency. You can rest assured that I will return with all the required information and resources."

Ethan nodded, feeling a sense of reassurance. Alfred's competence and loyalty were invaluable assets in this unfamiliar world. "Thank you, Alfred. I'm counting on you."

"Of course, sir," Alfred replied, offering a slight bow. "I shall not disappoint."

With that, Alfred turned, ready to make his way out of the sewer but stopped in his tracks before he could take a step.

"I guess you will have to show me the way out, Master Blackett. I can't see in this darkness as well as I could see you, for some reason," Alfred said, his voice carrying a hint of wry amusement typical of his demeanor.

Ethan heard the request and realized he had overlooked a critical detail. The sewer was pitch black to normal human eyes, contrasting starkly with the dull monochrome world he saw through his skeletal vision. Additionally, he hadn't moved much since waking up, meaning he was just as unfamiliar with the exit as Alfred.

Deciding it would be best to explore the sewer, especially in case he needed a quick hideout, Ethan first looked around and then chose a direction to move forward in search of an exit.

"Alright, follow me," Ethan instructed, taking the lead.

His slime boots muffled the sound of his steps significantly, a feature he appreciated as he mentally praised its inventor. Now, the only distinct noise in the otherwise quiet sewer was the steady, formal tapping of Alfred's leather boots.

As they moved through the dark, damp passageways, Ethan took note of the layout. The sewers were a labyrinth of intersecting tunnels, each one almost indistinguishable from the last. The occasional drip of water echoed through the air, adding to the oppressive atmosphere.

Ethan's thoughts wandered as he led the way, pondering the next steps. Finding a secure base was paramount, but so was understanding the intricacies of the world they were in.

His knowledge of the Marvel universe was extensive, but reality often deviated from fiction, and he needed accurate, up-to-date information.

Alfred, on the other hand, remained silent, his presence a comforting constant. Having someone reliable at his side made the uncertain future a bit more bearable for Ethan.

After what felt like an eternity of navigating the dark tunnels, Ethan finally spotted a faint glimmer of light ahead. Quickening his pace, he approached what seemed to be an old, rusted ladder leading up to a manhole.

"Here we are," Ethan said, gesturing towards the ladder. "This should lead you out."

"Very good, sir," Alfred responded, his voice steady. "I shall ascend then."

Ethan stepped aside, allowing Alfred to climb the ladder. The butler moved with practiced ease, despite the damp rungs and confined space. After a few moments, Alfred pushed open the manhole cover and peered out cautiously before climbing the rest of the way up.

---

A/N: A smaller chapter compared to the others, only 1847 words.

Hopefully, I captured Alfred's character somewhat correctly. It's hard for me to write how characters talk, had to do some reading, hopefully it's bearable.

Ch-13: Meeting a Legend

Alfred appeared in an alley, his gaze meeting his master's flaming blue eyes. Somewhere in those cold flames, Alfred believed there were expectations-expectations for him to be successful in this endeavor.

"Rest assured, Master Blackett," Alfred intoned, his voice steady and reassuring. "I shall complete this task and return to you forthwith."

With that, Alfred closed the cover, and for the first time since he had appeared in this world, he and his master were separated.

Initially, when Alfred had first appeared before the being cloaked in black with blue flames for eyes, he had thought the guide had deceived him, when it told him his master was human or human equivalent.

The being before him did not resemble any human Alfred had ever seen, at least not until he had shared the being's memories.

Though most of the information had been necessary for their survival, some of Master Ethan's personal memories had slipped through, perhaps because they were tied to those scenes.

It was through these glimpses that Alfred finally believed that the person he was to serve had indeed been human once.

The memories of Master Ethan's past life made Alfred quite sympathetic to him. It wasn't because the memories were cruel, but because they depicted a human, full of life and possibilities, who had now been transformed into a monster hiding in the sewers to survive.

Alfred surmised that the same entities responsible for bringing him here had caused Master Ethan to lose his human life.

With a renewed sense of duty, Alfred resolved to help his master to the best of his abilities.

To meld seamlessly into the crowd, Alfred took off his bow tie and placed it in his morning coat's pocket, which he also removed to carry in his hands.

He then removed his white gloves, folded the cuffs of his shirt up to his forearms, and wrinkled his immaculately ironed shirt in places to make him look like a normal man down on his luck.

Alfred scanned his surroundings, noting the details about his environment, the people, and the vehicles on the road. From their attire, he guessed that the current era was around the 1930s or 40s, but it was the vehicles that confirmed it for him.

He saw multiple cars that were only available in the 40s roaming the streets, some luxurious ones too, like the 1941 Cadillac Series 62 and the 1942 Lincoln Continental. When Alfred was a child, he had always dreamed of sitting inside a Lincoln Continental, a dream he fulfilled when he returned from his military service. Seeing it again reignited his passion for the car, but he quickly refocused on his task.

After walking some distance, he spotted a newsstand. Moving swiftly through the crowd with practiced ease, he reached the stand and picked up a newspaper. His eyes went to the date: 23rd May 1943, which confirmed his prior assumptions.

Then Alfred proceeded to ruffle through the paper, his eyes catching an eye-catching headline.

---

New York Daily Tribune

May 23, 1943

Experience Tomorrow Today: The Stark Expo 1943!

Innovations and Wonders Await at Howard Stark's Spectacular Event!

Join us for a groundbreaking exposition featuring the latest in technological marvels, wartime innovations, and family entertainment. Don't miss the chance to see the future unfold before your eyes at the Stark Expo, coming this May!

Location: Flushing Meadows, Queens, NY

Dates: May 1 - May 31, 1943

Tickets on sale now! Visit your local ticket office or call 1-800-STARKEXPO for more information.

---

Before he could look further, the vendor's voice rang out. "Hey buddy, ya can't just read without buyin'. That'll be three cents."

Alfred politely handed the paper back, "My apologies, sir. Unfortunately, I don't have any money on me at the moment."

The vendor eyed him skeptically, noticing his attire and the disheveled look he had adopted. "Ya down on yer luck, huh? There's a pawnshop a few streets over, if you got somethin' to sell. 'Briggs & Sons Jewelers' on 5th and Main."

"Thank you, sir," Alfred replied, nodding with a courteous smile. "Your assistance is much appreciated."

With that, Alfred started to make his way towards Briggs & Sons Jewelers.

After walking for some time, Alfred noticed the crowd thinning out, and the roadside becoming lined with parked cars. The atmosphere was more subdued, the hustle and bustle of the city giving way to a quieter, almost serene environment.

As he continued towards his destination, a cinema theater came into view. A movie poster adorned the theater's boarding, and Alfred mentally added watching a film to his growing checklist of things to explore in this new world.

As he walked past the theater, he heard commotion coming from the alley beside it. Intrigued, he recalled a memory from Master Ethan and decided to investigate.

What he saw next was a scene straight out of those memories: a frail, small boy trying to hold his ground against a bigger man, using the lid of a trashcan as a shield. The man yanked the lid out of the boy's hands and threw a punch, sending the boy sprawling backward.

But the boy, undeterred, stood back up, making fists with both hands. The man, clearly frustrated, said, "You just don't know when to give up, do you?"

The boy, in response, delivered his most iconic line, "I can do this all day." He then threw a punch, which was easily caught by the man. Before the man could retaliate, however, his hand was caught by Alfred.

Alfred's eyes narrowed as he intervened, "I believe the young man has had enough. It would be wise for you to leave now."

With a swift motion, he punched the man in the stomach, causing him to double over in pain. "Now, scramble."

The man, clearly outmatched, scrambled away without another word. Alfred turned back to the boy, who was catching his breath. "Thank you, sir," the boy said, his voice filled with gratitude.

Alfred offered a small smile. "You have a commendable spirit, young man. You remind me of a child I once cared for-unyielding, determined. What is your name?"

"Steve. Steve Rogers," the boy replied, still a bit winded but standing tall.

"Well, Steve," Alfred said, his tone warm and approving, "your courage is admirable. It takes a special kind of resolve to stand up for what you believe in, even when the odds are against you. What do you aspire to do in the future?"

Steve's eyes lit up with determination. "I want to join the army and fight for my country. I know I'm not much now, but I can't stand by while others are risking their lives."

Alfred nodded, impressed by the boy's conviction. "A noble ambition, Steve. Your determination will take you far, I am sure of it."

As they spoke, a figure entered the alley. He was tall and broad-shouldered, wearing his olive drab U.S. Army service uniform, which included a neatly pressed jacket adorned with military insignia, matching pants over polished brown formal boots, a khaki dress shirt with a tie, and a garrison cap perched at a slight angle. His demeanor exuded confidence and strength. This was James "Bucky" Barnes, Steve's closest friend, as Alfred remembered from the memory.

Bucky looked concerned as he approached. "Steve! Are you alright?" He glanced at Alfred, his eyes wary but not hostile.

"I'm fine, Bucky," Steve assured him. "This gentleman helped me out."

Bucky extended a hand to Alfred. "Thank you for looking out for him. I'm Bucky Barnes."

Alfred shook his hand firmly. "Alfred Pennyworth. It was my pleasure to assist. Your friend here has quite the spirit."

Bucky smiled, pride evident in his eyes. "That he does. He just needs to learn when to pick his fights."

Alfred chuckled softly. "A lesson many of us need to learn. But sometimes, it is the smallest of us who teach the greatest lessons."

Bucky, still holding onto Steve's shoulder protectively, said, "Well, Steve, let's get you out of here before you find yourself in another scrap."

Steve nodded, but his eyes were still fixed on Alfred, filled with gratitude and curiosity. "Thanks again, Mr. Pennyworth. I won't forget this."

Alfred gave a small nod. "Take care, Steve. And remember, it's not the size of the man in the fight, but the size of the fight in the man."

Bucky, sensing the conversation was winding down, gave Alfred a respectful nod. "Thank you, Alfred. You've done us both a good turn today. We won't forget it."

Alfred watched as the two friends walked away, Steve limping slightly but still holding his head high. Bucky's arm was around Steve's shoulders, a protective and brotherly gesture that spoke volumes about their bond.

Alfred felt a pang of nostalgia, thinking of Bruce Wayne and the similar sense of duty and protection he had once felt towards the young master in his care.

As they disappeared into the bustling streets, Alfred turned his attention back to his mission. He glanced around the alley one last time, ensuring no one else was lurking in the shadows before stepping out into the daylight.

The sun was beginning to climb higher in the sky, casting long shadows across the buildings and adding a golden hue to the morning. The city was fully awake now, the sounds of car engines, vendors shouting, and people conversing creating a symphony of urban life.

Alfred straightened his posture, smoothing out the wrinkles he had deliberately put in his shirt earlier. He adjusted his grip on his morning coat, now folded neatly over his arm, and set off down the street with purposeful strides.

As he walked, he mentally reviewed his plan. The encounter with Steve and Bucky had been a detour, albeit an enlightening one, but now it was time to focus on gathering information and resources.

A/N: How was this? Was the interaction between Alfred and Steve upto standards?

Comment guys…

Ch-14: Acquisition of Estate and Engine

After walking for some time, Alfred finally spotted a small, discreet sign for a jeweler's shop tucked between a tailor and a bakery. The shop's windows displayed an array of glittering items, from rings to pocket watches, and the sign above read "Briggs & Sons Jewelers."

Alfred approached the shop, noting its modest but respectable appearance. He entered, and a small bell above the door chimed softly, announcing his arrival. The interior was dimly lit, with glass cases showcasing the shop's wares.

An elderly man behind the counter looked up from a magnifying glass, his eyes squinting slightly as he assessed Alfred.

"Good morning, sir," the jeweler greeted, his voice gravelly but polite. "How can I assist you today?"

Alfred offered a courteous nod. "Good morning. I have some items I wish to have appraised and potentially sell."

The jeweler gestured for him to approach the counter. "Of course. Let's have a look, shall we?"

Alfred placed the pieces of jewelry on the counter, one by one.

The jeweler's eyes widened slightly as he examined each piece, the quality and craftsmanship clearly impressive.

He picked up a necklace, holding it up to the light to inspect the gemstones.

"These are exquisite," the jeweler remarked. "Where did you acquire such fine items, if I may ask?"

Alfred smiled slightly, a practiced and nonchalant expression. "They were inherited. Family heirlooms, you might say. But circumstances require that I part with them."

The jeweler nodded, seeming to accept the explanation without further inquiry. "I understand. Well, I can offer you a fair price for these. Give me a moment to tally up the price."

As the jeweler worked, Alfred took the opportunity to glance around the shop, noting the security measures in place and the layout of the room. It was a habit ingrained in him from years of service and training, always assessing his environment for potential risks and exits.

A few minutes later, the jeweler returned with a figure. "I can offer you this amount," he said, sliding a piece of paper across the counter with the total written on it.

Alfred glanced at the amount, noting that it was a considerable sum, given the value of gold during the war.

"Due to the war, the price of gold is touching the skies," the jeweler explained, his tone almost apologetic. "However, I must admit, being a small shop, I don't have the full amount in cash on hand. Perhaps we can discuss some alternatives?"

Alfred raised an eyebrow slightly. "Alternatives?"

The jeweler nodded, looking thoughtful. "Yes, well, I could provide part of the payment in cash and the rest in goods or services. We could offer store credit, or perhaps something else that might be of value to you?"

Alfred considered this for a moment. "Would you be able to assist in procuring a house? I'm looking for something modest, but it must be away from the hustle and bustle of the city. A place with privacy and security."

The jeweler's eyes lit up. "I believe I can help with that. My brother-in-law is a real estate agent who specializes in properties just like that. We could arrange for you to see a few options. How soon would you like to move?"

"As soon as possible," Alfred replied. "Privacy and security are of utmost importance."

"Very well," the jeweler said, jotting down a few notes. "I will contact him immediately. In the meantime, I can provide you with half of the payment in cash today, and once you've selected a property, we can finalize the remaining amount."

Alfred reviewed the offer, finding it fair and suitable for his needs. "That will be acceptable," he agreed.

The jeweler smiled, visibly relieved. "Excellent. Please, take a seat while I prepare the cash for you."

As the jeweler busied himself with the preparations, Alfred allowed himself a moment to relax. The transaction had gone smoothly, and soon he would have a secure place for Master Ethan.

After a few minutes, the jeweler returned with a stack of bills and a receipt for the transaction. "Here is half the amount in cash, as agreed," he said, placing the money on the counter. "And here is a note for the real estate agent. His name is Thomas Reed, and he will be expecting you."

Alfred took the cash and the note, offering a polite nod. "Thank you for your assistance. I appreciate your promptness."

The jeweler smiled warmly. "It's no trouble at all. I hope you find the property you're looking for. If there's anything else you need, don't hesitate to ask."

With the transaction complete, Alfred tucked the cash and the note securely into his pant pocket. He offered the jeweler a final nod of thanks before stepping out of the shop and into the bustling street. The sunlight was brighter now, reflecting off the windows of the surrounding buildings and creating a warm glow.

Alfred glanced at the note again, noting the address of the real estate office. It wasn't far from his current location, just a few blocks away. As he made his way through the city streets, he remained vigilant, continuously assessing his surroundings and the people he passed.

Then he spotted a cloth shop. Looking at the coat hanging off his arm and the slight stink wafting off himself, Alfred decided to change into a new set of clothes, choosing a practical yet stylish ensemble that would make him look appropriately rich enough for the money he held.

After changing into his new outfit he walked out of the establishment with the shopkeeper asking him to visit again in the future.

Arriving at the real estate office, Alfred noted its professional appearance. The sign above the door read "Reed & Associates Real Estate," and the windows displayed various property listings. He entered the office, the doorbell chiming softly.

Inside, the office was well-appointed, with dark wood furniture and tasteful decor. A receptionist looked up from her desk, offering a welcoming smile. "Good morning. How can I help you today?"

"Good morning," Alfred replied, approaching the desk. "I have an appointment with Mr. Thomas Reed. My name is Alfred Pennyworth."

The receptionist checked her appointment book, then nodded. "Yes, Mr. Pennyworth. Mr. Reed is expecting you. Please, have a seat, and I'll let him know you've arrived."

Alfred took a seat in one of the comfortable chairs in the waiting area, taking the opportunity to observe the office and its clientele. After a few moments, a tall, well-dressed man with a friendly demeanor approached.

"Mr. Pennyworth?" he greeted, extending his hand. "I'm Thomas Reed. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Alfred stood and shook his hand firmly. "The pleasure is mine, Mr. Reed. Thank you for seeing me on such short notice."

"Not at all," Reed replied, gesturing for Alfred to follow him. "Let's step into my office, and we can discuss your requirements in detail."

In the privacy of Reed's office, Alfred explained his needs: a discreet, secure property away from the city's hustle and bustle. Reed listened attentively, taking notes and occasionally asking questions to clarify specific details.

"I understand perfectly," Reed said once Alfred had finished. "I have a few properties in mind that might suit your needs. One in particular is a small estate on the outskirts of the city. It's secluded, with ample privacy and security features."

"That sounds promising," Alfred said. "Can we arrange to see it today?"

"Of course," Reed replied, standing up. "Let me gather the necessary paperwork, and we can head out immediately."

Soon, Thomas Reed gathered the necessary paperwork and keys for the properties he had in mind. "All set," he said, giving Alfred a reassuring smile. "Shall we?"

Alfred nodded, following Reed out of the office. They walked to a nearby parking lot where Reed's car was parked, a sleek black 1941 Buick Roadmaster, a convertible version. "I hope you don't mind a bit of a drive," Reed said as he opened the passenger door for Alfred.

"Not at all," Alfred replied, appreciating the comfort and style of the vehicle.

As they drove, Reed filled the time with pleasant conversation, discussing the city and its history. Alfred listened attentively, occasionally offering his own observations. The drive took them out of the bustling city center and into the quieter outskirts. The landscape gradually changed from urban to suburban, then to a more rural setting.

After about an hour, they arrived at a gated estate. Reed stopped the car and got out to open the gate, then drove up a long, winding driveway flanked by tall trees. The estate itself was a large, two-story house with a wraparound porch, surrounded by lush greenery and high hedges providing natural privacy.

"This is the property I mentioned," Reed said as they stepped out of the car. "It's quite secluded, as you can see, and it has several security features already in place."

Alfred surveyed the property, noting the sturdy construction of the house and the extensive grounds. It seemed ideal for their needs. "May we take a look inside?" he asked.

"Of course," Reed replied, leading the way to the front door. He unlocked it and gestured for Alfred to enter first.

The interior of the house was just as impressive as the exterior. The foyer opened into a spacious living room with high ceilings and large windows that let in plenty of natural light. The house was furnished tastefully, with a mix of modern and antique pieces that added character to the space.

Reed led Alfred through the house, showing him the various rooms and features. There was a well-equipped kitchen, a formal dining room, several bedrooms, and a study. Each room was impeccably maintained, and the overall feel of the house was one of comfort and security.

"There's also a basement that could be used for storage or additional living space," Reed said, opening a door that led down a set of stairs. "It's quite spacious and could be adapted to suit your needs."

Alfred followed Reed down into the basement, noting the solid construction and the potential for various uses. "This is excellent," he said, already envisioning how the space could be utilized.

They returned upstairs, and Reed showed Alfred the back of the house, which opened onto a large, private garden. The garden was enclosed by high walls, adding an extra layer of security.

"What do you think?" Reed asked, watching Alfred's reaction.

Alfred nodded approvingly. "This property is quite suitable. The seclusion and security are exactly what I'm looking for. What are the terms?"

Reed smiled, pleased with the positive response. "The owner is willing to negotiate, given the current market conditions. With the cash you've provided and a reasonable payment plan, I believe we can come to an agreement."

"Excellent," Alfred replied. "Let's proceed with the arrangements."

Reed led Alfred back inside to the study, where they went over the necessary paperwork. Alfred appreciated Reed's efficiency and professionalism as they finalized the details. However, a challenge soon became evident: Alfred did not possess any form of identification in this world. As Reed began filling out the forms, he glanced up, a question forming on his lips.

"Mr. Pennyworth, I'll need some identification to finalize these documents."

Alfred hesitated only a moment before responding with practiced calm. "Mr. Reed, I find myself in a rather peculiar situation. Circumstances have brought me here without the benefit of my usual credentials. Perhaps there's a way we can resolve this matter discreetly?"

Reed raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "Unusual circumstances indeed. Without proper ID, it could be complicated. But, given the substantial cash payment and your respectable demeanor, I might have a solution. It won't be entirely above board, but I can introduce you to someone who specializes in such matters. Of course, it will require an additional fee."

"Of course," Alfred replied smoothly, "I'm prepared to meet whatever conditions are necessary."

Reed nodded, making a quick phone call. After a brief conversation, he hung up and turned back to Alfred. "We can meet my associate this afternoon. In the meantime, let's complete what we can."

They proceeded with the paperwork, leaving the identification details blank for the moment. By the time they finished, Reed had received confirmation that his contact was available.

They drove to a nondescript building on the edge of the city. Inside, they met a man introduced simply as Mr. Smith, who specialized in obtaining and producing high-quality forged documents.

Mr. Smith examined Alfred with a scrutinizing eye. "Mr. Reed vouches for you, so I'll do the job. It'll take a few hours. You can wait here, or come back later."

"I'll wait," Alfred decided. Reed excused himself, promising to return once the documents were ready.

As Alfred waited, he observed the meticulous process Mr. Smith used, appreciating the man's skill and attention to detail. It was clear that this wasn't Smith's first time creating identities for individuals in unusual circumstances.

After several hours, Smith handed Alfred a set of documents: a birth certificate, a driver's license, and a social security card, all bearing the name Alfred Pennyworth and details that would withstand casual scrutiny.

"These should serve you well," Smith said. "But be cautious. They'll hold up to most inspections, but if someone digs too deep…"

"I understand," Alfred replied, taking the documents. "Your work is much appreciated."

Reed returned shortly after, and they finalized the paperwork for the property using the newly minted identification. With everything in order, Alfred finally had the keys in hand.

As they stood on the front porch, Reed extended his hand. "It's been a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Pennyworth. I hope this estate serves you well."

Alfred shook his hand firmly, his grip steady and confident. "Thank you, Mr. Reed. Your assistance has been invaluable. Before we part ways, might I ask-will these documents suffice for purchasing a vehicle?"

Reed nodded thoughtfully. "They should. The quality is excellent, and unless someone has a specific reason to doubt them, you'll be fine. Are you in need of a vehicle immediately?"

"Indeed, I am," Alfred confirmed. "Would it be too much trouble to ask if you could give me a lift to a reputable car dealership?"

Reed smiled, gesturing towards his car. "Not at all, Mr. Pennyworth. It would be my pleasure. Let's get you set up with a proper vehicle."

The drive to the dealership was smooth, with Reed providing helpful tips on navigating the city and the local market. They arrived at a well-established dealership, its lot filled with a variety of cars. A large sign read "Harrison's Auto Sales."

Reed parked and accompanied Alfred into the dealership. A salesman, a middle-aged man with a broad smile and a distinctly American accent, greeted them warmly. "Good afternoon, gentlemen! Welcome to Harrison's. How can I help you today?"

Alfred stepped forward, his demeanor calm and composed. "Good afternoon. I'm interested in purchasing a vehicle. Specifically, a 1942 Lincoln Continental."

The salesman's eyes lit up. "Ah, an excellent choice! We happen to have a few in stock. Follow me, please."

They were led to a section of the lot where several Lincoln Continentals were parked. Alfred's eyes roved over the sleek, elegant lines of the cars, appreciating their classic design.

"This model here," the salesman said, patting the hood of a dark green Continental, "is in pristine condition. Low mileage, well-maintained. It's a beauty, isn't it?"

Alfred nodded, inspecting the car closely. "Indeed, it is. May I take it for a test drive?"

"Of course!" The salesman beamed, quickly retrieving the keys. "I'll ride along to answer any questions you might have."

Alfred settled into the driver's seat, appreciating the craftsmanship and comfort. He started the engine, and the car purred to life. The test drive was smooth, the car handling beautifully. Alfred asked a few pointed questions about the vehicle's history and performance, all of which the salesman answered confidently.

Returning to the lot, Alfred parked and turned to the salesman. "I'm satisfied. Let's proceed with the purchase."

Back inside the dealership, the paperwork was swiftly completed. The salesman's enthusiasm never waned as he guided Alfred through each form, explaining the terms and conditions with the practiced ease of a seasoned professional.

"And that's the last of it," the salesman said, handing Alfred the keys. "Congratulations, Mr. Pennyworth. You're the proud owner of a 1942 Lincoln Continental."

Alfred accepted the keys with a small nod. "Thank you. Your assistance has been most helpful."

Reed, who had observed the process from a distance, approached Alfred. "It seems you're all set. Do you need any further assistance?"

"No, thank you, Mr. Reed. You've been more than generous with your time and help," Alfred replied, his tone appreciative but firm.

Reed chuckled, but there was a hint of curiosity in his eyes. "You know, it's a bit unusual for someone of your stature to suddenly need so many things at once. Or, Did you rob a bank or something?" He joked, though Alfred could sense a flicker of genuine doubt behind the humor.

Alfred's mind raced as he crafted a believable story. "Ah, a fair question, Mr. Reed. The truth is, I recently returned from an extended stay overseas, managing some rather remote family estates. Upon my return, I found that my old possessions had been, unfortunately, lost in a fire at our family home. It's been a rather hectic process trying to rebuild, as you can imagine."

Reed nodded, the explanation seemingly satisfying his curiosity, though a trace of doubt lingered in his eyes. "I see, that does make sense. Rebuilding after a tragedy can be quite an ordeal. I hope things go smoothly for you from here on out."

"Thank you, Mr. Reed," Alfred said, shaking his hand. "Your understanding and assistance have been invaluable."

With their final handshake, Alfred parted ways with Reed, who watched him drive off with a mix of admiration and residual curiosity.

Alfred slid into the driver's seat of the Lincoln Continental, the leather seats a reminder of the luxury he had secured.

Driving through the bustling streets, Alfred's mind was already strategizing the next moves. He needed to gather more information about this world, establish a network of contacts, and ensure that his master, Ethan, was well-protected and informed.

The cityscape, a mix of old-world charm and wartime austerity, passed by in a blur as his thoughts raced ahead.

After driving for some time, Alfred pulled over at a small tailor shop and proceeded to purchase a few more outfits, ensuring he had appropriate attire for various occasions.

Along with clothing, he acquired other essential items needed to settle into the new house-basic provisions, household goods, and a sturdy torch.

Satisfied with his purchases, Alfred resumed his journey, his car now laden with the necessities for their new home.

He soon reached the alley where it had all begun, a stark contrast to the bustling city around him. The narrow, dimly lit passage seemed almost unchanged, a silent witness to the start of his mission.

Alfred parked the car discreetly and approached the manhole cover. With practiced ease, he lifted it, the metal scraping softly against the pavement.

He climbed down into the darkness, the torchlight cutting through the pitch-black surroundings. Each step echoed ominously, the only sound in the otherwise silent sewer.

A sudden chill crept up his spine, causing him to shiver uncontrollably. Despite his years of training and experience, a veteran of countless challenges, this unexpected fear pervaded his senses…

Ch-15: Embracing the Darkness

Alfred closed the manhole, cutting off the light and plunging Ethan back into the familiar dull monochrome of the sewers.

As a skeleton clad in slime-based clothes, with blue flames burning in his eye sockets, Ethan had grown accustomed to the darkness.

Yet, there was a peculiar comfort in the few moments of light that had pierced his subterranean world. It was the doorway to this brand new world that he had yet to explore.

Suddenly, a notification rang in his mind.

[New mission has been issued, check the mission description for details.]

'Now what's this?' Ethan mused. 'Is this what the guide mentioned about receiving missions based on my plans?'

He opened the description with a mental command.

{Optional Mission}: Acquire a house and a personal means of transportation.

{Rewards}: 50 coins

'That's pretty convenient,' Ethan thought. 'A 'personal means of transportation,' huh? The jewelry I gave Alfred should be enough to mortgage a house and buy a car. Then I'll get another spin of the gacha, hopefully, to acquire something useful.'

Then, Ethan's mind drifted back to the extra ingredients that could be used in his evolution, as the guide had suggested.

He leaned against the damp wall near the stairs of the sewer exit, his skeletal form casting eerie shadows in the faint light from his eyes.

Opening the [Evolve] panel he decided to investigate what extra ingredients could be added.

'I still have the corpses of an Orc and the Shaman. Maybe I can use them as ingredients? Let's see.'

He clicked on the empty box next to the ':' sign in the panel, causing his inventory screen to pop up. Selecting the orc corpse, the screen automatically closed, and the empty box filled with a pixelated image of the orc. A new set of information appeared on the panel underneath the boxes.

- Slight Increase in Strength

- Slight Increase in Endurance

- Slight Understanding of the Goblin Language 'Ghukliak'

Ethan looked at this new set of information in front of him. 'Wow! That's amazing. This will definitely help me choose better ingredients for my evolution,' he thought.

His gaze then shifted to the '' sign near the orc-filled box. 'That plus sign must add an extra box. I wonder how many ingredients I can use as extra ingredients in a single evolution.'

Thinking so, Ethan clicked the '' sign, causing another box to appear beside the first one.

:

He clicked on the newly appeared box, this time adding the corpse of the goblin shaman. The information updated immediately.

- Slight Increase in Strength

- Slight Increase in Endurance

- Slight Increase in Mana

- Slight Increase in Understanding of Elements

- Increase in Understanding of the Goblin Language 'Ghukliak'

'Ghukliak, that name feels familiar somehow… Still, if I get another chance to meet goblins, I will be able to understand them. But then, would I still be able to kill them without a second thought?… That's a thought for later, I guess.'

After leaving behind the moral dilemma, Ethan clicked the '' sign again, and another box appeared. However, this time the '' sign at the end was gone, indicating he had reached the limit for additional ingredients.

'So three item's the limit. I will have to choose the extra ingredients with some thought, as I can't just spam evolve. So, for the last one let's add the staff. Let's see what it gives.'

Ethan clicked on the last box and decided to add the staff he had acquired from the goblin shaman. The information updated once more:

- Slight Increase in Strength

- Slight Increase in Endurance

- Slight Increase in Mana

- Slight Increase in Understanding of Elements

- Slight Increase in Elemental Control

- Increase in Understanding of the Goblin Language 'Ghukliak'

Looking at the given information in front of him, Ethan thought, 'So using magic-related items and monsters gives me control and understanding of Elements along with increased mana. And monsters with high physical stats give me physical increases. That's good.'

With time on his hands, Ethan decided to experiment with different combinations of items from his inventory. Though limited, he tested the potential benefits of various objects. Jewels and gold offered nothing. Potions provided slight increases in mana and health, depending on their type. Weapons, to his disappointment, didn't add anything either.

"Seriously? Not even a boost in attack power? Great," Ethan muttered, rolling his non-existent eyes. 'Guess I'm not hacking my way through evolution as I did with San Andreas.'

In the end, Ethan settled on the prior combination: an orc, the goblin shaman, and the staff. 'Potions can be useful in the future. Maybe I can give some of them to Alfred to use. And since I have no other use for corpses and the staff, let's stick with the classics,' he thought, looking at the trio of items in the evolution panel. 'An orc, a shaman, and a magical stick. Sounds like the start of a bad joke.'

Now came the hard part: waiting for Alfred to complete his tasks and earn a gacha spin. The hours dragged on, but finally, a notification chimed in Ethan's mind.

[Mission Complete: Acquire a house and a personal means of transportation.]

[Rewards obtained: 50 coins.]

'Looks like he did it,' Ethan said to himself, a sense of satisfaction creeping in.

'Way to go, Alfred. You have pleased your master,' sometimes being a little chuunibyou did no harm.

Excitedly, Ethan accessed the gacha spin. Using his 50 coins, he spun the wheel of fortune. And moments later, the result appeared before him: [Vial of captured shadows].

'Captured shadows? Sounds… ominous,' Ethan thought. 'But ominous can be good.'

But before he could even click to check the item's description, a notification followed:

[This item can be used for evolution. Do you wish to use this item for evolution?]

He didn't have to think before he tapped 'Yes.' He had been waiting for this moment since the day he killed the shaman. It had been 6 days since then and his wish was finally granted.

'Seems like my Luck stat is coming in handy,' Ethan mused silently.

'Finally, I can evolve. Hell yeah, baby!' Ethan lifted his hands up in the air, his jaws parted in an expression of silent scream.

All the boxes in the evolution panel were now filled, and a glowing [Evolve] button had appeared near the bottom of the screen.

Ethan moved to click it but hesitated, looking down at his outfit. He decided to store it in his inventory before proceeding. The slime armor outfit was too valuable to risk being destroyed or absorbed during evolution.

'Can't lose my slime suit,' he thought, shaking his head. 'It's too… stylish.'

With that done, he tapped the button, his non-existent heart filling with excitement.

[Evolution starting in 3, 2, 1… Evolution in progress.]

As soon as the countdown ended, Ethan was struck by a soul-stinging pain. He didn't even have the time to react before the darkness surged toward him like a tidal wave, threatening to drown him.

It seemed like the surroundings themselves were compressing in from all sides, putting pressure on his body and soul.

'This isn't fun,' Ethan thought, trying to grit his teeth and hold on. But it didn't seem like any of his species' traits were helping during the evolution.

He couldn't budge a single bone as he fell down, the clatter of bones drowned out by the ever-increasing darkness.

The darkness enveloped him entirely, and then he lost consciousness.

In his unconscious state, Ethan began to dream. He felt as though he was floating in a vast, comfortable void. 'Okay, this is weird,' Ethan thought. 'Floating in darkness. Pretty on-brand, though… SHIT!'

However, the surroundings gradually darkened, and waves of darkness broke through, engulfing him even in his mind.

As the evolution progressed, Ethan's ivory skeletal body began to change. His bones darkened, turning from bone-white to obsidian black.

A swirling cloud of darkness started to congregate within his ribcage, pulsing with a sinister energy.

After what felt like hours to Ethan, the soul-stinging pain subsided, replaced by a profound sense of something new within him.

[Congratulations on completing your first Evolution! Your level cap has increased.]

[You have gained new skills.]

Ethan slowly regained consciousness, feeling a new, potent energy coursing through his form. His skeletal frame, now black as the void, exuded an aura of shadow that flickered and danced around him like living flames.

He looked down at his hands-or what was left of them-and saw that they were covered in dark swirling shadows. The shadows moved with an almost sentient quality, wrapping around his fingers and then dissipating into the air.

'Okay, this is definitely an upgrade,' Ethan thought, flexing his fingers and watching the tendrils of shadow that followed his movements. 'I feel like a walking shadow… Wow, Ethan, always the one to state the obvious.'

Taking a moment to assess his new form, Ethan noted the strength and control he now seemed to possess. The darkness inside him felt alive, responding to his every thought. 'This power… it's like the darkness itself is part of me now. Let's see what else I can do with it.'

As he continued to explore his new abilities, Ethan noticed something else: his vision seemed to have improved. Not just his actual sight, which did get better, allowing him to see even farther in the dark tunnel, but now he could also 'feel' his surroundings.

'The darkness around me acts like a domain,' Ethan mused. 'I can sense things moving through it within a certain range. It's like I have eyes all around me.'

He could feel the skittering rats, not hear or see them, but feel them, even with his non-existent eyes closed. It was hard to describe this sensation in words; Ethan had never experienced anything like it before.

'Alright, time to try something else,' he thought. 'Let's see if I can control the darkness.'

He focused, trying to manipulate the shadows around him. The tendrils of darkness responded instantly, wrapping around him completely. Ethan felt that he had become one with the night, as if his presence had diminished significantly.

'This is… incredible,' Ethan thought, flexing his fingers as shadows flickered around them. 'I can meld into the shadows like Dracula from the Castlevania games. If I had this skill when fighting the shaman, I could've taken him out in one go.'

For a moment, he allowed himself to revel in his new form. But soon, the practical part of his mind took over. He needed to test his abilities, figure out exactly what he was capable of now.

'I think I heard some notifications for new skills. Let's see how much I've improved,' Ethan thought as he let go of his control, and the darkness receded, releasing him from its embrace.

Ethan opened his status panel first looking at his stats.

[STATUS]

Name: ETHAN BLACKETT

Level: 5 (EXP: 5300/10000)

Health (/R per hour): 230/230 (23)

Mana (/R per hour): 190/190 (19)

STAMINA (/R per min): N/A (N/A)

STR: 19

AGI: 20

END: 23

INT: 19

WIS: 16

DEX: 20

CHA: 01

LUC: 10

…

'Looks like the increase from the extra ingredients gets added to stats. That's good, keeps things comprehensive.' Ethan mused, as he clicked on the [Skills] tab, intending to review the new skills he had gained:

[Passive Skills]

{Dark Vision}: Darkness is like light to you granting you Increased range of sight.

{Aspect of Lynx}: Increases movement speed by 10%. Increases Critical strike chance by 15%. Increases accuracy by 10%.

{Swordsmanship/HEMA}: Level 1

You are an initiate in the uses of a sword.

[Active Skills]

{Bone Shield}: Level 1

Cost: 10 mana

Duration: 1 hour

Cooldown: 5 min

Summon a temporary shield made of bones to block attacks. It can absorb 50 points of damage before it disintegrates.

{Skeletal Repair}: Level 1

Cost: 10 mana

Duration: Instant

Cooldown: None

Use mana to repair minor damage to your bones. Exchanges 10 mana for 10 health.

{Sharpen}: Level 1

Cost: 10 mana

Duration: 1 minute

Cooldown: 5 minutes

Applies a layer of mana on the sword, making it sharper than normal. Decreases durability of non-mana recipient swords.

{Dash}: Level 1

Cost: Saps N/A stamina

Duration: 1 second

Cooldown: 1 minute

Saps a part of the user's stamina to boost speed up to 500 percent for a second.

{Fortify}: Level 1

Cost: 20 mana

Duration: 5 minutes

Cooldown: 1 minute

Applies a layer of mana on the body to act as a shield with 20 health points.

{Shadow Meld}:

Cost: 5 mana/second

Duration: Depends upon the total mana

Cooldown: None

Become one with the shadows, making yourself nearly invisible in dark environments.

{Shadow Sense}:

Cost: 1 mana/30 seconds

Duration: Depends upon the total mana

Cooldown: None

Sense movement and presence within a certain radius using the darkness around you.

[Species Traits]

Doesn't Breathe; Unlimited Stamina; Doesn't Eat or Drink; Doesn't Sleep; High Pain Threshold; Immunity to Disease; Immunity to Mind Control; Immunity to Poison; Indomitable.

[Perks]

1. Evolutionary: Special beings with the power to create custom evolutionary paths, not available for normal monsters.

2. Calm Mind: Able to make calm and calculative decisions in almost any circumstance.

…

'Nice,' Ethan thought, a grin forming on his skeletal face. 'These are awesome. And I must have used 'Shadow Meld' earlier, when I tried controlling the darkness. Alright, let's try 'Shadow Sense' then.'

He closed his eyes and focused, feeling the darkness around him. Instantly, the earlier feeling of sensing things expanded and the outlines of the sewer tunnel and the creatures within it came into sharp relief in his mind.

He could sense the rats, the water flowing through the tunnel, even the slight breeze from a distant entrance.

'This is amazing,' Ethan thought. 'It's like I've got echolocation, but with shadows. I can see everything without actually seeing.'

Content with his evolution, he cancelled the skill. 'This is… beyond anything I imagined. I feel like Skeleton Batman.'

---

A/N: After asking meta ai on how to improve my writing, I got the suggestion that I should add more monologues to make the character more relatable. I tried it, tell me if it's better than earlier.

Last edited: Jul 9, 2024

Ch-16: Abandonment of the Birth Place

The sound of boots hitting the concrete and a ray of light tearing through the darkness pulled Ethan out of his contemplation.

'What's that?' he thought, instinctively focusing on the noise. 'Alfred must be back.'

Earlier, while testing his abilities, he had moved some distance away from the sewer entrance. He focused, trying to envision where Alfred was, and "Shadow Vision" activated.

Through the darkness, Ethan saw Alfred's outline. The man was dressed in a suit, complete with an undershirt and formal shoes. He had returned after completing his objectives, just as planned.

Ethan reeled in his heightened senses, the echoes of the darkness retreating as his perception returned to normal.

Retrieving the Armor-Slime from his inventory, Ethan willed it to change into an outfit similar to Alfred's. 'Must be from the current era,' he thought. 'It'll help me blend in. Not that a skeleton can blend in much in the first place.' He chuckled to himself at the absurdity of the idea.

His eerie chuckle seemed to be swallowed by the shadows surrounding him, not echoing at all despite the enclosed space of the tunnel. 'That's new,' Ethan marveled at his abilities.

But before he could delve deeper into contemplating his abilities, a sound cut through the darkness, echoing down the tunnel.

"Master Ethan! Are you there?" Alfred's voice carried a note of concern, which struck Ethan as unusual. There was a difference between loyalty and genuine care.

Summons were created to be 100% loyal, but they didn't typically exhibit emotional attachment to their masters.

'What's up with Alfred?' Ethan wondered. 'Why does he sound… worried? Maybe he's an exception, or something's changed.'

Reeling in his thoughts, Ethan called out, "I'm here, Alfred."

Ethan paused for a second, at the sound of his voice. It seemed to have changed from the earlier ghost-like raspiness to a deeper, slightly more human-like tone.

He only heard the changes because it was the first time he spoke out loud after his evolution.

Letting go of that thought, Ethan focused on Alfred's presence and moved towards him. 'Let's see what Alfred has found out.'

As he drew closer, he could see the relief in Alfred's eyes. However, he also noticed that Alfred was shivering slightly, and as Ethan moved closer, Alfred seemed to shiver more.

"Master Blackett, you're… different," Alfred remarked, his eyes scanning Ethan's new form.

"Yeah, you could say that," Ethan replied, flexing his fingers and watching the tendrils of shadow swirl around them. "Had a little makeover. What do you think?"

Alfred's eyes widened slightly as he took in Ethan's new appearance. "It's… impressive, Master Ethan. Your transformation seems quite powerful."

Ethan noticed Alfred's continued trembling. "Why are you shivering, Alfred? It's not that cold down here."

Alfred hesitated for a moment before replying, "It's not the cold, Sir. It seems to be… you. More accurately, your new form. There's an aura around you that seems to amplify fear. It's as if the darkness itself is pressing in, increasing the fear inside me."

Hearing this, Ethan quickly tried to control the darkness surrounding his body and the tendrils of shadow receded back into the swirling mass of darkness in his chest. "Better?"

Alfred exhaled slowly, his shivering subsiding. "Yes, sir. Much better. Thank you."

'My new powers give me an edge, but I need to be smart about how to use it. I can't afford to make mistakes, especially with beings like the ancient one and Heimdall keeping an eye on everything.'

Perhaps one day he would be strong enough to not care about anyone but until then, he had to be careful.

"Good to know I can tone it down," Ethan said, a hint of relief in his voice. "Guess I'll have to be careful with this new form. Now, tell me what you found."

Alfred straightened, adopting his usual professional demeanor. "I've gathered a few pieces of information that might be of interest. For one, today's date is May 23rd, 1943."

"1943?" Ethan echoed, his voice tinged with surprise. "That's quite a leap back in time. We need to be cautious about interacting with this era, considering that anything we change can cause such a massive butterfly effect that our future knowledge might become useless." (A/N: Don't worry, that's just his current thought, of course the plot's gonna change.)

"Indeed, Master Ethan," Alfred agreed. "I also encountered a young man named Steve Rogers. He seemed quite determined and spirited, though physically unimposing. We crossed paths in an alleyway where he was defending himself against some bullies."

Ethan's eyes narrowed in thought. "Steve Rogers… Captain America before the serum, I presume. Did you interact with him?"

Alfred nodded. "Briefly. I intervened before things could escalate. It seemed wise to ensure he remained unharmed."

"Good call," Ethan said. "Making allies with a future member of the Avengers can be helpful. What else?"

"I managed to pawn the jewelry you provided. With the funds, I purchased a car and a house in a secluded area," Alfred continued. "The house should provide a safe base of operations for now."

"Excellent work," Ethan replied, nodding approvingly. After pausing for a second to think, he continued "What kind of car did you get?"

"A 1942 Lincoln Continental," Alfred responded. "It should blend in well with the current era."

Ethan smirked. "Nice choice. Always had a soft spot for vintage cars. Anyway, how's the house?"

"It's modest but comfortable," Alfred said. "Far enough from prying eyes to ensure our privacy, but close enough to the city for convenience."

"Perfect," Ethan said. "We'll need a secure place to strategize and plan our next moves. By the way, did you have any issues during your mission?"

"None significant," Alfred replied. "I took care to avoid drawing unnecessary attention."

"Good," Ethan said, a thoughtful look crossing his face.

Ethan glanced around the tunnel, the flickering shadows casting eerie patterns on the walls. "Let's head to the house. We can plan our next steps there. I need to test my new abilities in a more controlled environment."

"Very well, Master," Alfred said, gesturing for Ethan to lead the way.

After less than a minute of walking and climbing, they emerged from the sewer into the cool night air. Ethan felt the fresh breeze of this new world for the first time.

Although he didn't have the sense of smell, he could still tell that the air was much fresher than the damp and stale sewers.

"Well, this is a refreshing change," Ethan remarked dryly. "Even without a nose, I can tell this air is better than the sewer's."

"Indeed, Master. The sewers are hardly a place for anyone, let alone someone of your… caliber," Alfred replied with a hint of humor.

They walked to the newly bought car, a dark green 1942 Lincoln Continental. Ethan couldn't help but admire its beauty.

The car's sleek lines and elegant curves spoke of a different era, a time when craftsmanship and style were paramount. The chrome accents gleamed under the streetlights, and the dark green paint had a deep, rich luster.

"This is a beauty," Ethan said, running a bony hand along the smooth surface. "They don't make them like this anymore. Pure elegance on wheels."

Alfred opened the door, and Ethan slid into the back seat. As he settled in, he caught a glimpse of himself in the rearview mirror-his obsidian face and the blue flames flickering in his eye sockets. He sighed inwardly.

'Great job, Ethan. Trying to blend in with a stylish outfit but leaving your face looking like a Halloween mask. Brilliant move,' he thought sarcastically.

He concentrated, and the Armor-Slime extended into a mask that completely covered his face. The mask, with a matte black finish, bore subtle, realistic features that mimicked a human face.

Dark, opaque lenses made from manipulating the density of the slime covered the eye areas, hiding the eerie blue flames that flickered beneath, ensuring they remained unseen even in the dimmest light.

He also covered his skeletal hands in black gloves which extended from the overcoat.

Alfred entered the driver's seat and glanced at Ethan through the rearview mirror. "A most effective disguise, Master. I daresay, it even adds a touch of mystery. Shall we proceed?"

Ethan chuckled softly. "Let's go, Alfred. I'm eager to see our new abode."

Abode. Ethan repeated the word in his mind, smiling to himself. Spending time with Alfred was clearly influencing his vocabulary. His refined manner of speaking was rubbing off on him, and he didn't mind it at all.

Alfred started the car, and they began their drive to the newly bought house. As they cruised through the city, Ethan was engrossed in the sights. It was his first time seeing New York in 1943. Roaming through New York City was an entirely new experience.

The city was a blend of bustling urban life with a wartime atmosphere.

The streets were filled with the sounds of street vendors, trolley cars, and the occasional rumble of elevated trains.

As the car moved forward, Ethan saw people were constantly on the move, whether commuting to work, running errands, or participating in war efforts such as scrap drives and bond rallies.

Military personnel were a common sight.

'It's probably due to New York serving as a key departure point for soldiers heading to the European front,' Ethan remarked inwardly. It seemed that some of his historical knowledge finally came into play.

"New York… so alive, so different from the boring and monotonous past life I had," Ethan muttered under his breath as he watched the cityscape pass by.

Manhattan was a hub of activity, with its crowded sidewalks, towering skyscrapers, and iconic landmarks like Times Square and the Empire State Building. The sidewalks were crowded with people in military uniforms and stylish attire of the era.

While Brooklyn offered a more residential feel, with neighborhoods like Williamsburg and Coney Island providing a mix of industrial and recreational spaces.

The streets were lined with a mix of elegant shops and vibrant neon signs advertising theaters and jazz clubs.

Vintage cars of various makes and models shared the road, their headlights piercing the night.

Public transportation was packed, and rationing of goods like gasoline and rubber meant that bicycles and walking were common ways to get around which seemed to be the reason why Ethan saw a lot of pedestrians through the drive.

Despite the war, Ethan noted, cultural life thrived; theaters, jazz clubs, and restaurants were lined with people, providing a sense of normalcy and escape from the stresses of wartime.

The drive continued, and Ethan found himself captivated by the scenes unfolding outside the window. He saw couples walking hand in hand, children playing, and groups of friends enjoying the night.

The architecture ranged from towering skyscrapers to quaint brownstones, each building telling its own story.

Alfred glanced back at him. "Enjoying the sights, Master Blackett?"

"Absolutely, Alfred. It's… remarkable. I've never seen anything like it," Ethan replied, his voice filled with genuine awe. "It's like watching history come to life."

"Indeed, Master. New York is a city like no other, especially in these times. Full of life, full of promise," Alfred said with a knowing smile.

As they drove further, the cityscape began to change, and they entered a quieter, more secluded area. The hustle and bustle of the city gave way to tree-lined streets and larger, more opulent homes.

"We're almost there, Master Ethan. Your new residence awaits," Alfred announced.

Ethan nodded, feeling a sense of anticipation. "Alfred, which area did you say the house was in again?"

"Westchester County, sir," Alfred replied.

Ethan acknowledged with a simple, "Alright." He gazed out the window, watching as the scenery continued to transform.

The urban sprawl of Manhattan and Brooklyn had long been left behind, replaced by the serene suburbs of Westchester.

The streets became less crowded, and the buildings more spread out. Elegant shops and vibrant neon signs were replaced by picturesque houses and well-manicured lawns.

After some time, Alfred finally parked the car in front of a gated estate. He stepped out, opening the gate before driving up a long, winding driveway flanked by tall trees.

The estate itself was a large, two-story house with a wraparound porch, surrounded by lush greenery and high hedges providing natural privacy.

"This is the property, Master Blackett," Alfred said as they stepped out of the car.

Ethan surveyed the property with keen interest. The sturdy construction of the house and the extensive grounds made it appear ideal for their needs. "What are we waiting for? Let's go inside."

"Of course," Alfred replied, leading the way to the front door. He unlocked it and gestured for Ethan to enter first.

As Ethan stepped inside, he was immediately struck by the grandeur of the foyer. It opened into a spacious living room with high ceilings and large windows that let in plenty of natural light.

The decor was tasteful, with a blend of modern and antique furnishings that added character to the space.

Alfred proceeded to show Ethan through the house, highlighting its various rooms and features.

Currently, Alfred noted, he seemed to have changed places with Thomas Reed.

"There's also a basement," Alfred mentioned, opening a door that led down a set of stairs. "It's quite spacious and could be adapted to suit your needs."

Ethan followed Alfred down into the basement, noting the solid construction and the potential for various uses. "This is excellent," he said, already envisioning how the space could be utilized.

They returned upstairs, and Alfred guided Ethan to the back of the house, which opened onto a large, private garden. The garden was enclosed by high walls, adding an extra layer of security.

It was a tranquil space, with well-tended flower beds and a small fountain, providing a perfect retreat from the outside world.

Ethan took a deep breath, appreciating the serenity of the place. "It's perfect, Alfred," he said with a smile appearing on the mask's face. "I think this will do nicely."

A/N: The slime isn't sentient, it's Ethan showing emotions using the mask.

Ch-17: Trying to Conquer the Light

A week had passed, and Ethan had settled into the comforts of his new home. Even as a skeleton, he found the queen-sized bed with its quality mattress to be godly and comfortable.

'Who would've thought I'd still find a bed so comfortable,' Ethan mused, rising from the bed. 'Guess some habits die harder than others.'

He willed his Armor-Slime back into his inventory before walking towards the bathroom.

Walking into the bathroom, he appreciated the sensation of cold water cascading over his skeletal form as he turned on the faucet.

The relief of still being able to feel sensations through his bones was amplified in these situations.

The cold water invigorated him, each drop a symphony of sensation against his skeletal frame.

'Hot and cold, life and death-funny how the simplest things can remind you of what you once had,' Ethan thought, a wry smile forming on his lipless face. 'Who knew a skeleton could appreciate a good shower?'

He chuckled to himself as the water washed away any grime. 'It's the little things in unlife, I suppose.'

After his shower, he willed the Armor-Slime to form into a crisp black shirt, trousers, and boots, feeling a sense of normalcy in the routine. The clothes clung to his frame perfectly, enhancing the human silhouette he projected despite his true nature.

Stepping out of his room, he saw Alfred already dressed and ready. Alfred was clad in a sharp, three-piece suit that exuded an air of polished elegance. His black woolen blazer, matching vest, and trousers fit perfectly, hinting at his refined taste.

Beneath the vest, a crisp, white dress shirt was buttoned up neatly, complemented by a silk tie in a slightly lighter shade of black.

"Good morning, Master Blackett," Alfred greeted, his voice a calm and steady presence.

"Morning, Alfred," Ethan replied, admiring his servant's impeccable dress. "You look as dapper as always."

Alfred bowed his head slightly. "Thank you, Master Ethan. I aim to uphold a standard of excellence."

"So, what's on the agenda for today?"

Alfred adjusted his tie and replied, "I'm planning to open a bank account today, and I have to attend the auction where your jewelry is being sold, Master Ethan."

"How will you open a bank account? You don't have any legitimate documents," Ethan asked, curious about what Alfred had in mind.

Alfred smiled lightly. "In the past few days, while pawning the jewelry you brought from the dungeon, I developed some much-needed connections. Today, I am going to get my documents legitimized through a corrupt official I came to know while selling a piece of jewelry."

Ethan agreed. "Good thinking. Focus on things that will increase your reputation and social circle. Politicians, especially."

Ethan paused for a second, thinking, then said, "That reminds me, we need to find a senator named Brandt. He'll be the key to getting the last vial of the Super Soldier serum."

Alfred raised an eyebrow. "The last vial, Master Ethan? Do you not intend to rescue Dr. Abraham Erskine?"

Ethan sighed, shaking his head. "Saving Erskine will bring unnecessary attention and risk to us. Stealing the serum from Kruger while he's running away with it will be far more subtle and hidden."

Alfred nodded in understanding. "A wise decision, Master Ethan. But don't you think having Erskine alive could benefit us in other ways?"

Ethan considered this for a moment. "It's a risk we can't afford. Erskine's survival could change the timeline in unpredictable ways. Our priority is to remain unseen and secure what we need without altering too much."

Alfred's gaze softened. "A prudent approach, Master. I shall proceed with your instructions."

"Thank you, Alfred," Ethan said, appreciating his servant's unwavering support.

Alfred gave a slight bow. "As always sir, I am at your service. I shall take my leave now."

"Good luck, Alfred," Ethan replied, watching as Alfred turned and left the room, his footsteps echoing through the hallway.

As the door closed behind him, Ethan felt a sense of determination settle over him. The path ahead was fraught with challenges and that meant he needed to become stronger.

'Unfortunately, I can't jump into a dungeon right now. I will have to find another way to get stronger for now. Maybe, I could jump into the war, take out Nazis, see if they give me any EXP to level up,' Ethan thought, looking at the notification panel in front of him.

[{Initiate Dungeon Delve} - Wait 358 days to refresh.]

Ethan sighed, making his way to the garden in the back.

In the past week, Ethan had gained good control over his new abilities. He could now use his two primary skills almost instinctively.

However, he found that his skills were far less effective in sunlight, where shadows and darkness were scarce. This limitation frustrated him, and he spent considerable time in the garden practicing, hoping to find a way to use his powers even in the bright light of day.

The garden, with its high hedges and dense foliage, provided a decent environment for practice. Ethan stood in a shaded corner, feeling the coolness of the shadows around him.

He extended his hand, watching as tendrils of darkness swirled around his skeletal fingers. In the dim light, the shadows moved fluidly, responding to his thoughts with ease.

'This is good, but not enough,' he mused. 'I need to find a way to harness this power even when the sun is at its peak.'

Ethan stepped into a sunlit area, immediately feeling the strain on his abilities. The shadows weakened, the tendrils becoming faint and sluggish. He focused harder, trying to pull the darkness from the minimal shade provided by a nearby tree.

The effort was exhausting, but he managed to form a weak tendril that flickered in and out of existence.

'There must be a way,' he thought, pushing himself to maintain the tendril. 'If I can control the shadows even in daylight, I won't have to rely solely on the cover of night.'

The hours passed, the sun moving across the sky, casting shifting patterns of light and shadow.

After practicing for hours, Ethan came to realize that forcefully using his abilities in sunlight rapidly depleted his mana. He still wasn't able to activate his skill to cover his body in darkness and meld into the shadows.

However, he noted that perhaps with far more mana and greater control over darkness and shadows, he could achieve that level.

For now, as a Shadow Skeleton, his skills were those of an assassin. Only when he advanced to a Shadow Skeleton Mage would he be able to reach the potential of controlling shadows and darkness more freely.

'It's a matter of patience and growth,' he thought, wiping imaginary sweat from his brow. 'For now, I need to work with what I have.'

His mind raced with strategies, potential uses for his skills in different environments, and ways to maximize the shadows he could find or create.

One idea was to use the shadows cast by everyday objects. Even in bright daylight, there were always small patches of shade under trees, cars, and buildings.

He could use his Shadow Meld skill to momentarily blend into these small shadows, making quick escapes or hiding from enemies for brief moments.

'If I can train myself to instantly identify and jump into these micro-shadows, I could move almost undetected even in broad daylight,' he thought, a smirk forming on his bony face.

Another tactic involved his Shadow Sense. By sensing the presence of shadows, he could anticipate the movement of others.

For example, he could use the shadow cast by an approaching enemy to sense their presence before they even saw him. This would give him a critical edge in ambush scenarios.

'Using Shadow Sense as an early warning system is a pretty good idea, kinda like Haki but a lot different, I guess,' Ethan considered, feeling a surge of confidence in his plan.

With renewed resolve, Ethan continued his training. Now that he had clear plans in mind about what to achieve, his training speed increased significantly compared to the earlier, aimless efforts.

His movements became more precise, his focus sharper, as he honed his skills with an almost obsessive determination.

Ethan first worked on his Shadow Meld skill, concentrating on the small patches of shade cast by various objects around the garden. He practiced slipping into the shadows of trees, the gaps between hedges, and the darkened corners of the garden walls.

Each time he melded with the shadows, he felt a slight tug on his mana reserves, but he persisted, determined to extend the duration and effectiveness of his concealment.

'If I can master this,' he thought, slipping into the shade of a garden bench, 'I can evade detection even under the harshest light.'

He spent hours moving from shadow to shadow, forcing his body to adapt to the rapid transitions. It was exhausting, and his mana reserves dwindled quickly, but he could feel himself improving with each attempt.

His transitions became smoother, his control more refined. The shadows seemed to welcome him more readily, embracing him as one of their own.

'Good,' he mused, wiping a non-existent bead of sweat from his brow. 'This will be invaluable in the field.'

Next, he focused on his Shadow Sense. He closed his eye sockets and extended his awareness, feeling for the subtle shifts in light and darkness around him. He could sense the presence of birds flitting through the trees and the insects scuttling along the ground.

The ability to sense these minute changes in his environment gave him an almost supernatural awareness of his surroundings.

'An early warning system,' he thought, smiling to himself. 'I'll know they're coming before they know I'm there.'

He practiced this skill until he could maintain it without conscious effort.

Once activated, it would become a natural extension of his senses, a silent sentinel alerting him to any potential threats until he eventually canceled it.

Ethan also experimented with creating his own shadows. He fashioned cloaks and umbrellas from his Armor and weapon slimes.

By casting shadows where none naturally existed, he gave himself more opportunities to meld and hide. It was a rudimentary solution, but it worked, providing him with a portable source of darkness to augment his abilities.

'Simple, yet effective,' he thought, manipulating the slime into a dark cloth over his head and feeling the cool embrace of the shadow it cast.

The hours flew by, and as the sun began to set, casting longer, deeper shadows across the garden, Ethan felt a surge of energy.

The tendrils of darkness responded more readily, wrapping around his arms and flowing from his fingertips like extensions of his own will.

He practiced manipulating the shadows, shaping them into tendrils, forming them into cloaks, and using them to conceal his skeletal form.

'Progress,' he thought with grim satisfaction, watching the shadows dance at his command. 'I'll conquer the light, just as I've conquered the dark.'

As twilight descended, Ethan stood in the garden, surrounded by the shadows he had tamed. He looked up at the darkening sky, a sense of determination burning within him.

'Whatever comes next,' he vowed, clenching his skeletal fists, 'I'll be ready.'

And with that, he retreated back into the house, sensing Alfred's arrival.

---

[Alfred's POV]

12 hours ago…

Alfred turned around and walked out of the villa, his footsteps echoing softly in the early morning stillness. He carried a suitcase filled with the documents he had forged with Mr. Smith's help.

Settling into the driver's seat of the Lincoln Continental, he started the engine, the car purring to life, and drove out onto the road.

His destination was Manhattan, where he would meet with Commissioner Regan, a corrupt officer he had recently come to know. He had met Regan while selling a piece of jewelry, and their mutual interests had quickly aligned.

As the cityscape of New York blurred past him, Alfred's mind buzzed with thoughts and plans. 'Increasing my influence and expanding my circle of acquaintances is paramount,' he mused. 'In times like these, it's not just about wealth but about connections. Friends in high places can open doors money cannot.'

He then considered the importance of finding Senator Brandt. 'Brandt will be essential,' Alfred thought, his hands steady on the wheel. 'His connections and influence could grant us access to critical resources and information. He's also the key to getting the last vial of the Super Soldier serum, which Master Ethan has emphasized as crucial.'

Then, Alfred's thoughts drifted to the idea of investing in war efforts. 'The money from the jewelry sales could be funneled into supporting the war. Not only would this build a positive public image, but it would also align us with powerful individuals who appreciate such contributions. Reputation is everything, and in these tumultuous times, aligning oneself with the right cause can open many doors.'

The drive through New York was relatively smooth, and soon enough, Alfred reached the office of Commissioner Regan. The building was unassuming, a stark contrast to the bustling life of Manhattan outside. Alfred parked the Continental and walked inside, carrying the suitcase confidently.

Inside, Commissioner Regan's office was dimly lit, the smell of stale coffee lingering in the air. Regan, a stout man with a balding head and sharp eyes, looked up as Alfred entered.

"Ah, Mr. Pennyworth," Regan greeted with a sly smile, leaning back in his chair as Alfred entered. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Alfred gave a polite nod. "Commissioner Regan, it's good to see you again. I have a small matter that requires your assistance."

Regan's eyes gleamed with interest. "Does it now? And what might that be?"

Alfred placed the suitcase on the desk and opened it, revealing the documents. "I need these documents legitimized. I trust this will not be an issue?"

Regan raised an eyebrow. "What kind of documents?"

"Titles, deeds, and identification papers. All quite… valuable, I assure you," Alfred said, his voice dripping with persuasion.

Regan's eyes narrowed. "Let me see them."

Alfred handed over the forged documents, and Regan scanned them carefully. His eyes widened, and a greedy glint appeared in his eye.

"Very well, Mr. Pennyworth. I can help out a friend. Just $1,000, and we'll call it a deal," Regan said, his voice firm but eager.

Alfred smiled, his eyes never leaving Regan's face. "I expected as much, Commissioner. Here's the payment, and a little extra… for our continued friendship."

The transaction was swift. Regan signed off on the forged documents, legitimizing them with his authority. Once the papers were in order, Alfred handed over a bundle of cash as the agreed fee.

"Pleasure doing business with you, Commissioner," Alfred said, closing the suitcase and standing up.

"The pleasure is all mine," Regan replied, pocketing the money. "And remember, if you need anything else, you know where to find me."

Alfred nodded, leaving the office with a sense of accomplishment. The documents were now legitimate, another step forward in their plans. He returned to the Continental and started the drive towards the Antique auction.

As he navigated through the busy streets, Alfred's mind was already on the next phase of the plan.

Ch-18: The Unexpected Connections

On his way to the auction, Alfred made a deliberate stop at the Bowery Savings Bank, one of the most reputable financial institutions in Manhattan during 1943.

The grand façade of the bank, with its imposing columns and ornate detailing, exuded an air of stability and trust, qualities Alfred valued as he prepared to establish his financial presence in New York.

Entering the bank, Alfred was greeted by the cool, marble interior and the soft murmur of business being conducted. He approached the reception desk, where a neatly dressed clerk looked up with a professional smile.

"Good afternoon, sir. How may I assist you today?" the clerk asked.

"Good afternoon," Alfred replied, his voice smooth and confident. "I'd like to open a new account."

"Of course, sir. If you would please take a seat, one of our account managers will be with you shortly," the clerk said, gesturing towards a plush seating area.

Alfred nodded and took a seat, observing the bustling activity around him. Within a few minutes, a distinguished-looking gentleman in his fifties approached him.

"Sir, welcome to Bowery Savings Bank. My name is Mr. Thompson, and I'll be assisting you today. If you'll follow me to my office, we can get started."

Alfred followed Mr. Thompson to a spacious, well-appointed office. The walls were lined with dark wood paneling, and the desk was an impressive piece of mahogany. They sat across from each other, and Mr. Thompson began the formalities after asking Alfred's name.

"So, Mr. Pennyworth, what type of account are you looking to open today?" Mr. Thompson asked, adjusting his spectacles as he prepared to take notes.

"I'd like to open a personal account with options for future business transactions," Alfred replied. "Additionally, I'd like to make a substantial initial deposit."

"Very well," Mr. Thompson said, visibly pleased. "We have several options that might suit your needs. I just need to see some identification and the necessary documents."

Alfred handed over a folder containing his newly legitimized documents, which Mr. Thompson examined with care.

"Everything seems to be in order, Mr. Pennyworth. How much were you planning to deposit today?" he inquired.

" Fifty thousand dollars," Alfred stated calmly, watching as Mr. Thompson's eyes widened slightly in surprise.

"That is indeed a substantial amount," Mr. Thompson said, quickly composing himself. "We'll ensure that your funds are securely deposited. If you'll excuse me for a moment, I'll process this immediately."

Mr. Thompson left the room briefly, returning with a cashier who carried the necessary paperwork. The cashier set the documents on the desk, and Mr. Thompson guided Alfred through the signatures and details.

"With this deposit, your account will be fully established, and you'll have access to our full range of services," Mr. Thompson explained. "Is there anything else we can assist you with today?"

"Not at the moment," Alfred replied, "but I do anticipate engaging in significant transactions in the near future. I'll appreciate any assistance your bank can provide in facilitating these."

"We look forward to serving your needs, Mr. Pennyworth," Mr. Thompson said warmly, shaking Alfred's hand. "Welcome to Bowery Savings Bank. Your account is now active."

---

Soon, Alfred arrived at the auction house and he was greeted by a mix of familiar and unfamiliar faces. The cream of New York society had gathered to bid on tonight's auction.

He knew that this was his chance to shine, to build connections that would be helpful in the future.

With that thought in mind, he navigated through the crowd, exchanging pleasantries with the ladies and firm handshakes with the gentlemen.

His eyes locked onto a group of influential collectors, and he made a beeline for them. Tonight, he was here to establish himself as a wealthy and philanthropic individual.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen," Alfred said, his voice smooth as silk. "I'm Alfred Pennyworth, and I'm delighted to make your acquaintance."

The group turned to him, their faces a mix of curiosity and interest. There stood Vivian Van Der Meer, a renowned art collector; James Parker, a wealthy businessman; and Emily Taylor, a philanthropist and socialite.

Alfred had done his research on New York's most influential figures, ensuring he was well-versed in their backgrounds and interests.

Vivian was the first to speak. "Mr. Pennyworth, it's a pleasure. I hear you've just returned from England?"

The last few days of meticulously visiting pawn shops and pawning jewelry had garnered attention, especially given the substantial amounts involved-enough to purchase multiple estates with ease.

This deliberate maneuver, known only to Master Ethan and himself, had successfully put Alfred on the radar of New York's elite.

"Indeed," Alfred replied with a gracious nod, delivering the carefully crafted backstory he had developed. "I've been abroad for many years, ever since my parents passed away. I've recently returned to manage the family estate and explore new ventures. Parting with some heirlooms has become a necessity to fund these endeavors."

James Parker leaned in, his interest piqued. "And what kind of ventures are you considering, Mr. Pennyworth?"

Alfred smiled, recognizing the opportunity he had been waiting for. "I'm looking to open an investment firm. Given the current economic climate, there are numerous opportunities to support the war effort while ensuring substantial returns."

Emily Taylor's eyes lit up with interest. "That sounds fascinating. And what brings you to tonight's auction?"

"I have listed some jewelry, heirlooms from my family," Alfred replied smoothly. "They've been in my family for generations, and I'm hoping to find them a worthy home." Skills developed from years of working as an actor came into play at these moments as he lied without missing a beat.

As they chatted, Alfred effortlessly steered the conversation towards their shared interests-art, business, and philanthropy. He discussed his various charitable endeavors, his support for the war effort, and his deep appreciation for the arts.

Each word was carefully chosen, each phrase practiced to perfection to win them over and build valuable connections.

"I must say, Mr. Pennyworth, you're quite the cultured gentleman," Vivian said, her voice tinged with admiration.

Alfred chuckled softly, "I try to stay informed, my dear. Knowledge is power, after all."

James nodded thoughtfully, chiming in. "Your approach to balancing business with philanthropy is quite impressive, Mr. Pennyworth."

"Thank you, Mr. Parker," Alfred agreed. "It's about making meaningful contributions while ensuring sustainable growth. Supporting the war effort not only helps our troops but also stimulates our economy. For instance, investing in war bonds provides immediate support and promises future returns, creating a cycle of prosperity."

Emily smiled warmly. "Your perspective is refreshing, Mr. Pennyworth. We could use more like you in our circles." She then looked around, casting a look of disdain at some of the others present at the auction. "At least, you are much better than those who just want to exploit the poor to fatten their pockets."

Alfred followed her gaze and suddenly spotted a familiar figure in the auction. The charismatic young man was mingling with a group of women, making them laugh and snicker as he talked away.

Alfred identified the man as Howard Stark from his acquired memories.

As if sensing his gaze, Howard Stark turned towards their group. He glanced at Alfred briefly before his eyes moved on and fell on Emily.

Immediately, he was all smiles and started moving towards their group. As he approached, he picked up a glass of champagne from a passing waiter.

"Good evening, everyone," Howard said smoothly as he neared, his focus entirely on Emily. "I'm Howard Stark. May I offer you this champagne, Miss…?"

"Taylor," Emily replied with a polite smile, accepting the glass. "Emily Taylor."

Howard grinned, his charm in full effect. "A pleasure to meet you, Miss Taylor. I've heard much about your philanthropic work. It's rare to find someone so young making such a significant impact."

Emily blushed slightly, flattered by his attention. "Thank you, Mr. Stark. I believe it's important to give back, especially in times like these."

Howard's eyes sparkled with interest. "Absolutely. The world needs more people like you. Philanthropy has always been close to my heart as well. Stark Industries supports numerous charitable initiatives, especially those benefiting war veterans and medical research."

James and Vivian watched the interaction with interest, clearly impressed by Howard's effortless charisma. James chimed in, "Your work with prosthetics for injured soldiers is particularly admirable, Mr. Stark."

Howard nodded, his expression earnest. "Thank you, Mr. Parker. It's a cause I'm deeply passionate about. These men have given so much for their country; it's only right we do everything we can to help them rebuild their lives."

Vivian added, "It's inspiring to see someone in your position using their influence for such good."

Howard's smile broadened. "Well, I believe in using my resources to make a difference. Speaking of which, Miss Taylor, I'd love to hear more about your latest projects. Perhaps we could discuss it over dinner sometime?"

Emily seemed momentarily taken aback by his directness but quickly recovered, smiling graciously. "That's very kind of you, Mr. Stark. I'd be delighted to share more about my work."

As the conversation continued, Alfred watched with a measured gaze, noting Howard's effortless charisma and the way he skillfully navigated the social landscape. When a lull in the conversation presented itself, Alfred saw his chance to intervene.

"Mr. Stark," Alfred said, stepping forward slightly, his voice calm and clear. "A pleasure to finally meet you in person. I've admired your work from afar for some time."

Howard's expression turned slightly guarded, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features as he turned to face Alfred. "And you are?"

"Alfred Pennyworth," Alfred replied, extending his hand. "I've recently returned from England and am exploring new ventures here in New York."

Howard shook his hand, albeit briefly, his grip firm but dismissive. "Ah, another aspiring investor. Well, New York is the place for it, that's for sure."

Alfred maintained his composure, his smile unwavering. "Indeed. I was actually hoping to discuss potential investments in Stark Industries," he said, his tone courteous but firm. "I believe there's a great deal of potential for collaboration, especially given the current economic climate and the opportunities to support the war effort."

Howard raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued despite himself. "Stark Industries is currently under contract with the Strategic Scientific Reserve. We're focused on projects directly supporting the war effort."

"Of course," Alfred acknowledged, inclining his head slightly. "And I wouldn't dream of interfering with such important work. However, I think there are opportunities for private investment that could further bolster your efforts. A small portion of shares, perhaps, to start. It would be an honor to support your groundbreaking work."

Howard looked thoughtful for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly as he considered Alfred's words.

Howard glanced at his watch, a finely crafted piece that gleamed under the soft lights of the auction hall. "If you'll excuse me, I have some matters to attend to. But it was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Pennyworth."

"Likewise, Mr. Stark," Alfred replied smoothly.

Howard turned back to Emily, a playful glint in his eyes. "Miss Taylor, it would be a shame if we didn't continue our conversation. Perhaps I could get your contact information? I'd love to hear more about your projects."

Emily smiled, a hint of color rising to her cheeks. "Of course, Mr. Stark." She took a small card from her purse and handed it to him. "I look forward to our future discussions."

Howard accepted the card with a charming grin. "Please, call me Howard. And I promise I won't keep you waiting too long." He winked, his expression making Emily blush slightly.

With that, Howard excused himself, weaving his way through the crowd with the same ease he had approached them, the group watched him go. His departure left a slight void, a reminder of the charisma he exuded.

"Quite the character, isn't he?" James remarked, breaking the brief silence.

"Indeed," Alfred agreed, his tone thoughtful. "He certainly knows how to make an impression."

Emily nodded, her eyes still following Howard as he moved through the throng of guests. "He's brilliant, really. A bit arrogant, perhaps, but undeniably brilliant."

"That's Howard Stark for you," Vivian said with a wry smile. "Always the center of attention, always on the move."

As the group resumed their conversation, Alfred couldn't help but feel a sense of slight accomplishment. The interaction with Howard had gone well.

It was a small victory, but in the world of high society and business, even the smallest advantages could lead to significant opportunities.

The group soon turned their attention back to the auction and made their way to the auction room, where rows of chairs faced a raised platform, the items for bid displayed prominently.

Their earlier conversation had flowed seamlessly into the auction's proceedings, and now they shared occasional comments and observations as the event unfolded.

The soft hum of conversation and the occasional clink of champagne glasses created a backdrop of refined anticipation and crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over the richly adorned space, illuminating the eager faces of New York's elite.

On the raised platform at the front of the room, the auctioneer, a distinguished man in a tailored tuxedo, began the evening's proceedings.

He rapped his gavel for attention and then spoke with a voice that carried authority and excitement.

"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to tonight's auction. We have a splendid array of items for your consideration. And without further ado, let us begin with Lot Number One: a rare Ming Dynasty vase, estimated to be worth over $100,000."

Alfred watched as the vase was carefully brought out and placed on display. The delicate blue and white porcelain gleamed under the spotlights.

"Shall we start the bidding at $50,000?" the auctioneer called out.

"Fifty thousand!" came a quick response from a man seated near the front, his voice confident and clear.

"Sixty thousand," countered Vivian Van Der Meer, lifting her paddle with a graceful flick of her wrist.

"Seventy-five thousand," added a portly gentleman in a pinstripe suit, his gaze fixed intently on the vase.

The bids continued to climb, each new offer punctuated by the auctioneer's rhythmic chant. Alfred observed the scene with mild interest, appreciating the artistry but feeling no compulsion to participate. His mind was focused on other matters.

As the evening wore on, various items were brought forth: a diamond necklace that sparkled like captured starlight, a set of antique silverware with intricate engravings, and a painting by an obscure yet talented artist. Each piece was introduced with flourish by the auctioneer, his enthusiasm undimmed.

"Next, we have Lot Number Fifteen: a stunning diamond necklace from the Belle Époque period. This exquisite piece features over fifty carats of flawless diamonds. Shall we start the bidding at $200,000?"

"Two hundred thousand," a voice rang out, and the competition began anew.

"Two hundred fifty thousand," James Parker joined in, his eyes glinting with determination.

"Three hundred thousand," declared an elegant woman with a jeweled hairpin, her expression calm but resolute.

The auctioneer's cadence quickened, "Three hundred thousand, do I hear three fifty? Three fifty, anyone?"

Emily Taylor leaned over to Alfred, her eyes twinkling with curiosity. "Are you not interested in these items, Mr. Pennyworth?" she asked in a low voice.

Alfred smiled, shaking his head slightly. "Nothing has quite caught my eye yet," he replied, his tone light and unbothered.

Vivian, overhearing their exchange, laughed softly. "We'll have to see what does catch your eye then, Mr. Pennyworth. I'm sure it will be something remarkable."

Despite the beauty and rarity of the items, Alfred found nothing that captured his interest. He leaned back in his chair, allowing his mind to wander slightly. His purpose tonight was not to acquire objects but to solidify connections.

"Next, we present Lot Number Twenty: an original painting by Henri Rousseau, a captivating jungle scene estimated at $500,000. Shall we begin at $400,000?"

The bids started high and escalated quickly. Alfred listened to the auctioneer's energetic patter and the rapid-fire responses from the bidders, noting the fierce determination in their eyes.

"Four fifty," shouted a distinguished gentleman, his voice rising above the murmurs.

"Five hundred," countered James Parker again, his gaze unwavering.

As the auction progressed, Alfred maintained his composure, engaging in polite conversation with those seated near him and offering occasional nods of approval at particularly spirited bidding wars.

"Lot Number Thirty: an antique silver tea set from the Georgian era, exquisitely crafted and in pristine condition. Bidding starts at $30,000."

The bids for the tea set were brisk, with several participants eager to claim the elegant pieces. Alfred noted the competitive glances exchanged across the room, the subtle gestures that conveyed a world of unspoken rivalry.

"Forty thousand," Vivian called out, her voice steady.

"Forty-five," came another bid from a different corner of the room.

The auctioneer's voice rang out once more, "Fifty thousand, do I hear fifty-five?"

Emily Taylor leaned in again, her smile warm. "Still nothing that piques your interest, Mr. Pennyworth?"

Alfred chuckled softly. "I'm afraid not, Ms. Taylor. Perhaps I'm waiting for something truly exceptional."

James Parker, catching the exchange, grinned. "Then we'll all be waiting to see what catches Alfred's eye. It will certainly be worth the wait."

As the auction neared its conclusion, the items grew more varied and unique, each with its own tale and history. Alfred's interest remained largely academic until the final lot of the evening was announced.

"Lot Number Fifty: an ancient relic of uncertain origin, believed to be an artifact from an early civilization. This intricately carved stone tablet has been the subject of much speculation among historians and collectors alike. Bidding starts at $10,000."

The auctioneer's voice resonated through the hall, drawing murmurs of curiosity from the attendees. The artifact, placed on a velvet cushion, was a small, weathered tablet inscribed with cryptic symbols.

It appeared unassuming to the untrained eye, but Alfred recognized its potential significance.

He had spent countless hours with Ethan, who had imparted knowledge about various rare and obscure artifacts, including those connected to ancient civilizations like Asgard and Atlantis.

This tablet, Alfred knew, might not be merely an antiquity but a key to understanding more about these lost cultures and their secrets. It could potentially help Master Ethan in ways yet unforeseen.

"Ten thousand," came the first bid, uncertain yet hopeful.

"Fifteen," Alfred called out, his voice steady and assured, causing heads to turn in surprise.

Vivian, James, and Emily exchanged puzzled glances. Vivian leaned in, her curiosity piqued. "What is it about this piece that interests you, Alfred?"

"Just something that caught my eye," Alfred replied with a serene smile. "And, I didn't want to leave empty-handed."

"Twenty thousand," another bidder interjected, trying to match Alfred's confidence.

"Twenty-five," Alfred countered without hesitation.

The bidding war was brief but intense, with Alfred emerging victorious. As the gavel came down, the auctioneer's voice rang out, "Sold to Mr. Alfred Pennyworth for twenty-five thousand dollars."

James Parker chuckled, clearly intrigued. "You must see something in that tablet the rest of us don't, Alfred."

Emily nodded in agreement. "Indeed. What's so special about it?"

Alfred maintained his composed demeanor. "Sometimes, an object speaks to you in ways others might not understand. It felt like something I should have."

As the auction concluded and the crowd began to disperse, Alfred secured the tablet and exchanged final pleasantries with his newfound acquaintances. He could sense their curiosity but knew it was best to keep the true nature of his acquisition a well-guarded secret.

Stepping out into the crisp night air, Alfred felt a surge of satisfaction. The tablet, while seemingly obscure, could be something potentially helpful.

For Alfred, the evening had been a resounding success. He had cemented valuable connections, secured a deal with Howard, and acquired an artifact of perhaps an ancient civilization. The night had proven fruitful.

Last edited: Jul 12, 2024

Ch-19: Fortunes of War: Foundations and Frontlines

As the night air filled with the chirping of insects, Ethan sat on his queen-sized bed, his eyes fixed intently on the transparent blue screen in front of him. The soft glow of the screen cast a faint blue light on his dark, skeletal face.

"[{Initiate Dungeon Delve} - Wait 356 days to refresh," the screen read.

Ethan felt like the screen was taunting him with its slow countdown and his fingers drummed impatiently on the bedspread.

"I can't just sit around and wait a year to start grinding. I need to level up, and fast. Especially my Charisma - I can't convince anyone of anything with a score that low." Ethan muttered under his breath.

He sighed, glancing around his dimly lit room. 'Alfred's got the finances and connections covered, so I don't have anything to do other than train, and I've already done all I could with my skills. But my mana is still the limiting factor.'

His mind raced, seeking alternatives. 'I need to find a way to level up without the dungeons or the monsters… Guess I'll have to find the monsters hidden among humans then.'

At that thought, his mind went to Red Skull and the Nazis, along with their multiple concentration camps about which he had read in his history classes. The horrors of those camps were etched in his memory, although they did nothing like awakening pity within him. But they did remind him of a wonderful chance.

'If I remember correctly, and if there are mutants in this universe, then maybe I can find him there,' Ethan mused, his eyes narrowing with calculated determination.

Ethan's gaze drifted to the array of weapons spread out on his bed-swords, throwing knives, axes, bows and arrows, and guns. He had ordered them a few days ago through Alfred, who had made sure they were the best money could buy.

"If I have to join the war, I can't just fight with melee weapons," he muttered, picking up the sleek, black M1911A1 Colt. 'Although the slimes are quite versatile, having multiple weapons feels better and more reliable. And you can never be too careful, especially in a war.'

The gun, although very familiar due to the video games he had played, felt foreign in his hands, as he had never used a gun before in either of his lives. He examined it closely, noting its weight and balance.

'I'll learn to use these in tandem with my skills,' Ethan thought, as he twirled the pistol with ease, his excellent dexterity making the action look effortless.

Ethan then thought about the man who had been working day and night since being summoned. Alfred, with his years of experience as a SAS and MI5 operative, would be the perfect teacher. 'Once he is free, maybe Alfred can teach me about guns, and the rest… well, I'll figure it out myself.'

Ethan lay back on his bed, feeling his bones sink into the godly coziness of the Simmons Beautyrest mattress. The plush surface cradled his body, offering a rare moment of comfort amidst the race to become stronger.

Now, he just had to wait until Alfred was a little free. Until then… well, even the dead need rest.

---

[Alfred's POV]

[The Next Morning]

Alfred Pennyworth adjusted the collar of his crisp white shirt, smoothing out the lapels of his dark, tailored suit. The sleek, formal attire was completed with a perfectly knotted silk tie and polished black Oxfords. He glanced at himself in the mirror, making sure every detail was in place before heading out.

He paused at Ethan's door, knocking gently before entering. The sight before him still took some getting used to-a skeleton lounging on a soft mattress. Despite the surreal image, Alfred had grown accustomed to the oddities of his new life.

"Good morning, Master Ethan," Alfred greeted.

Ethan's skeletal head turned slightly, his jaws parted and a human-like voice emerged. "Morning, Alfred. We need to discuss something once you're free."

Alfred nodded, though he couldn't help but feel a pang of pity every time he saw Ethan in this state. He remembered the vibrant Howard Stark and then looked at his master, who would never know the simple joy of holding a woman's hand.

"Very well, sir," Alfred replied. "I shall be back later this afternoon."

As he walked out of the room, he sighed, thinking about the cruel twists of fate. His master, a brilliant mind trapped in a skeletal body, was deprived of the simple joys of human interaction. Shaking off the melancholy, Alfred focused on the task at hand.

He made his way to the garage and got into the Lincoln Continental. The sleek black car roared to life, and Alfred guided it out of the driveway, heading towards Manhattan from Westchester County.

During the drive, Alfred's mind wandered to the investment firm they were planning to open. He and Ethan had discussed it in detail, finally settling on the name "Blackrock" It had a ring of prestige and reliability, essential qualities for attracting high-profile clients.

The drive into the heart of New York City was familiar yet it was impressive as always. The bustling streets, the towering buildings, and the energy of the city invigorated Alfred. He navigated through the traffic with ease, eventually arriving at his first destination: the New York State Department of State office.

Alfred stepped into the grand, marble-floored lobby of the New York State Department of State office. He approached the reception desk, where a woman in a sharp, navy suit greeted him with a professional smile.

"Good morning. How may I assist you?" she asked.

"Good morning," Alfred replied smoothly. "I am here to file the necessary paperwork to establish an investment firm, Blackrock."

She nodded and handed him a clipboard with a stack of forms. "Please fill these out, and once completed, take them to Room 305 for processing."

Alfred found a nearby table and began filling out the forms with meticulous precision. The paperwork required details about the firm's structure, initial capital, and key personnel. He filled in his own name for everything, as Master Ethan didn't exist in the official papers-something Alfred thought they needed to rectify in the near future.

With the forms completed, Alfred made his way to Room 305. Inside, a bespectacled clerk looked up from his desk, his eyes narrowing slightly as he assessed Alfred.

"Good morning," Alfred began, placing the forms on the desk. "I am here to file these documents for the establishment of an investment firm."

The clerk took the papers, flipping through them with practiced efficiency. "Everything seems to be in order, Mr. Pennyworth. We'll process these and notify you within a few days."

"Thank you," Alfred said, offering a polite nod. "We look forward to your confirmation."

Next, Alfred moved on to securing an office space. He had his eye on a building in the financial district, a prime location that would position them among the elite of New York's business community. The address he was considering was 120 Wall Street, a prestigious location known for its impressive architecture and proximity to other major financial institutions.

Alfred met with a real estate agent named Ms. Evelyn Carter, a sharp-eyed woman with a no-nonsense demeanor. She greeted him with a firm handshake as they stood in the lobby of the building.

"Mr. Pennyworth, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Evelyn Carter," she said, her voice crisp and professional.

"Likewise, Ms. Carter," Alfred replied with a polite nod. "I appreciate you taking the time to show me the property."

"Of course," she said, leading him towards the elevators. "120 Wall Street is one of the most sought-after addresses in the financial district. It offers both prestige and convenience."

As they rode the elevator to the 10th floor, Evelyn briefed Alfred on the building's amenities. "You'll have access to a modern security system, fast elevators, and a rooftop terrace that offers a stunning view of the city. The building also houses several prestigious law firms and financial institutions."

The elevator doors opened, revealing a spacious, sunlit office space with large windows overlooking the bustling streets below. Alfred walked around the office, taking in the layout and envisioning how it could be transformed into the headquarters for Blackrock.

"This space offers 5,000 square feet, which should be more than sufficient for your needs," Evelyn continued. "It's currently unfurnished, allowing you to customize it to your specifications."

Alfred nodded, pleased with what he saw. "This is exactly what I had in mind. What's the leasing process like?"

Evelyn handed him a folder with the necessary paperwork. "It's fairly straightforward. You'll need to sign a lease agreement, provide proof of your business registration, and submit a security deposit. We can arrange for the lease to start immediately if everything is in order."

"Thank you, Ms. Carter," Alfred said, taking the folder. "I'll review the documents and get back to you shortly."

After securing the potential office space, Alfred's next stop was the Bowery Savings Bank.

He walked into the grand, marble-floored lobby, the polished brass fixtures gleaming under the soft light. The bank had an air of old-world elegance, a stark contrast to the modern financial institutions springing up across the city.

He approached the teller, a middle-aged man with a kind smile. "Good afternoon. How can I assist you today?"

"Good afternoon," Alfred replied. "I'd like to speak with the branch manager regarding the establishment of a new investment firm account."

"Certainly, sir. Please have a seat. I'll notify the manager immediately."

A few moments later, Alfred was ushered into the office of Mr. Thomas Reynolds, the branch manager. Mr. Reynolds stood to greet him, extending a hand. "Mr. Pennyworth, welcome. How can we assist you today?"

"Thank you, Mr. Reynolds," Alfred said, shaking his hand. "I'm here to notify the bank that we are opening an investment firm by the name of Blackrock and to complete the necessary proceedings."

Mr. Reynolds gestured for Alfred to sit. "We're honored to have you choose Bowery Savings Bank for your business needs. Let's get started. We'll need to set up a business account for Blackrock and ensure all the legal and financial requirements are met."

Alfred handed over the necessary documents, including the business registration and initial capital deposit slip of $50,000.

Mr. Reynolds reviewed them carefully. "Everything appears to be in order. I'll just need your signature here," he said, sliding a form across the desk.

Alfred signed the document with his usual precision. "Excellent. Is there anything else I should be aware of?"

"We'll need to complete the process by setting up your account, which will take a few days. In the meantime, you'll receive a temporary account number. Your official account details will be mailed to you once the setup is complete."

"Thank you, Mr. Reynolds," Alfred said, standing to leave. "I appreciate your assistance."

"Not at all, Mr. Pennyworth. We look forward to serving your investment firm. If you have any further questions or need additional services, please don't hesitate to reach out."

By mid-afternoon, Alfred had completed the necessary steps. He got back into the Lincoln Continental, feeling a sense of accomplishment. As he drove back to Westchester, the city's hustle gradually gave way to the serene, tree-lined streets, his thoughts returning to Ethan. The tasks of the day had been taxing, but knowing he was making progress for his master gave him a quiet satisfaction.

Pulling up to the house, Alfred parked the car and made his way inside, the familiar weight of duty settling back on his shoulders. He found Ethan still in his room, a sense of purpose evident in his skeletal form despite the lack of flesh and expression.

"I'm back, sir," Alfred announced, his voice carrying the calm assurance of someone who had seen and done much in service. "What did you wish to discuss?"

Ethan sat up, his eye sockets fixed on Alfred. "I've been thinking about our next steps. If I'm to join the war effort, I need to be better equipped. I'll need you to teach me how to use some of the weapons I've acquired."

Alfred considered this, his brow furrowing slightly. "Master Ethan, joining the war is a commendable thought, but I must remind you of the potential dangers. War is unpredictable and merciless. Have you weighed the risks?"

Ethan nodded, a resolute determination in his stance. "I have, Alfred. But I can't stand idly by while atrocities are committed. I have to do something, especially if it means liberating those suffering in concentration camps."

A flicker of concern crossed Alfred's face, though he quickly masked it with his usual composed demeanor. "Liberating the victims is a noble cause, indeed. But I must point out the significance of your presence here. Your strategic mind and abilities are crucial in our current operations."

Ethan's skeletal features softened, his determination unwavering. "I appreciate your concern, Alfred. But this is something I feel compelled to do. I can't let innocent lives be extinguished if I have the power to help."

Alfred sighed, the weight of responsibility heavy on his shoulders. "Very well, Master Ethan. If this is your decision, then I shall support it to the best of my ability. I can train you in the use of firearms and other weapons. However, might I suggest a more covert approach? A skeleton on the battlefield might draw unwanted attention."

Ethan chuckled, a dry sound echoing in the room. "Indeed, Alfred. Subtlety is key and I have grand plans on how to be subtle."

Alfred's gaze was steady, "And what of the training? There is much to cover, and time is of the essence."

Ethan nodded, his skeletal frame exuding a sense of readiness. "We'll start with the basics. I need to be proficient with both modern and improvised weaponry. And there's also the matter of physical conditioning-well, as much as a skeleton can be conditioned."

Alfred allowed a small smile, a rare moment of warmth breaking through his usual stoic demeanor. "Of course, Master Ethan. We shall begin immediately. I'll prepare the necessary equipment."

Ethan acknowledged Alfred's wisdom with a nod. "Thank you, Alfred. Your support means more than you know. But for now, we focus on preparation."

Alfred bowed slightly, understanding the urgency in Ethan's voice. "As you wish, Master Ethan. Let us waste no time."

Right now, Alfred had a newfound respect for his Master. He knew that Master Ethan was powerful, way beyond the measures of any human. Still, the decision to join the war and his wish to liberate the victims of those accursed camps had shown that even in his monstrous form, his human heart was still present.

Alfred himself had seen the horrors of war and he didn't wish it inflicted upon any other, whether a soldier or a victim. The screams, the blood, the senseless loss-it all haunted him still. But he couldn't stop Master Ethan. In his position, he himself would have jumped in to save as many as he could.

Sighing, Alfred focused on the task ahead, to train Master Ethan to the best of his abilities. Right now, his imparted skills would be the support that Master needed, more than his presence on the battlefield…

---

A/N: if you noticed Alfred's growing affection or whatever you wanna call it towards Ethan and thought, "How? This mf (Ethan) got no charisma."

Then I don't fault you for not connecting it with an info given long ago, "The stats influence each other."

Ethan's Luck is holding up his charisma and Alfred not being able to read his thoughts via body language or facial twitches helps immensely in creating a different persona of Ethan in Alfred's mind.

And you can see that with the POV changes when Ethan thinks of the war, he doesn't care about the victims, just thinks about the opportunities.

While Alfred does care about them and thinks Ethan does too, and is willing to risk his life to save em. And Ethan words his thoughts that compliments Alfred's way of thinking, because he knows that Alfred is a good person and he is trying to manipulate him into staying loyal and friendly.

Last edited: Jul 12, 2024

Ch-20: Heist for Power

[June 4th, 1943]

The glass door of The Brooklyn Antiquities was flung open following the sharp report of gunfire. A man dressed in a three-piece gray suit, though now slightly disheveled, burst out of the door, clutching a Walther P38 pistol in one hand and an MP40 submachine gun in the other.

His eyes darted frantically, searching for the black 1936 Dodge Touring Sedan that was to be his escape vehicle.

For a second, he was baffled by the absence of Hydra agents except for the driver, a man wearing a paper boy cap that obscured half his face. This moment of confusion was cut short as gunfire erupted from behind him.

He ducked instinctively, spinning around and squeezing the trigger of his MP40, sending a burst of bullets toward the two agents in pursuit. Without wasting another moment, he lunged into the front seat of the waiting sedan.

The car sped away, the tires screeching against the pavement. Kruger, the man in the gray suit, fired another burst from his submachine gun, aiming at the agents who continued to fire at him.

However, his aim was interrupted by the sudden braking and acceleration of the limousine, throwing him off balance.

Gritting his teeth, Kruger pulled himself back into the car, glaring angrily at the driver. "What was that just now?" he demanded, his voice edged with fury.

The driver, eyes still on the road, muttered a hurried excuse. "Had to avoid some debris, sir. Didn't want to risk hitting anything that could slow us down."

Meanwhile, Agent Peggy Carter burst out of the antiquities store, her determination palpable. She stood firmly, taking careful aim at Kruger's retreating car with her pistol.

Kruger, seeing Carter aiming at him, reached into his pocket and pulled out a remote-like device. With a cold, calculated look, he pressed a button. Behind Carter, another car exploded in a fiery blast, the shockwave and debris momentarily disturbing her aim.

The explosion caused Carter to shield her face and stagger, but she quickly recovered, her resolve unshaken. She took aim again at the speeding limousine.

The driver glanced up at the rearview mirror, spotting Carter taking aim. Instinctively, he ducked just as a bullet whizzed through the windshield, leaving a jagged hole.

Seeing this, Kruger attempted to lean out of the window to return fire, but as he moved, he was abruptly elbowed in the face by the driver. The blow stunned him, and he fell back into the seat, blood streaming from his now broken nose.

Before he could comprehend what was happening or recover from the attack, the driver struck again. With precise accuracy, he delivered a karate chop to Kruger's carotid artery, the pressure point causing immediate loss of consciousness. Kruger's head lolled to the side, his body going limp against the leather seat.

---

[Flashback]

[The Night Before]

Alfred Pennyworth adjusted his cufflinks, ensuring they were perfectly aligned before stepping out of the Dark green Lincoln Continental.

The night was brisk, a cool breeze flowing through the streets of Manhattan as he approached the grand entrance of the Metropolitan Club.

Tonight's gala was an exclusive affair, attended by the city's elite, including politicians, businessmen, and influential socialites.

Among them was Senator Brandt, a key figure in Alfred's plan.

Alfred's recent generous donation to Brandt's re-election campaign had secured him a private audience with the Senator.

The aim was simple: get Brandt drunk and make him reveal the location of Project Rebirth.

Entering the opulent ballroom, Alfred quickly scanned the crowd. The air was filled with the murmur of polite conversation, the clinking of glasses, and the soft strains of a string quartet playing in the corner.

Chandeliers cast a warm glow over the elegantly dressed guests. Spotting Senator Brandt near the bar, Alfred made his way over.

"Senator Brandt," Alfred greeted with a charming smile, extending his hand.

"Mr. Pennyworth! Good to see you," Brandt replied, shaking his hand enthusiastically. The Senator was a tall, portly man with a jovial demeanor and a penchant for fine whiskey. "I must thank you again for your generous contribution to the campaign."

"Think nothing of it, Senator. I'm simply investing in the future of this great nation," Alfred said smoothly. "Shall we have a drink?"

Brandt's eyes lit up. "Now you're speaking my language. Bartender, two glasses of your finest bourbon."

The bartender obliged, pouring the amber liquid into crystal glasses. Alfred took his, raising it in a toast. "To the future."

"To the future," Brandt echoed, clinking his glass against Alfred's before taking a hearty sip.

Alfred watched as the Senator downed the drink, barely savoring its rich flavor.

'This might be easier than I thought,' Alfred mused.

The two men found a quiet corner of the room, settling into plush armchairs. Alfred kept the conversation light, discussing politics, the war effort, and mutual acquaintances. With each topic, he made sure Brandt's glass was never empty.

"So, Senator," Alfred began after several drinks, leaning back in his chair. "I've been hearing whispers about a new military project. Something groundbreaking."

Brandt chuckled, his face flushed from the alcohol. "Oh, you wouldn't believe the things we're working on. Truly remarkable stuff."

"I'd love to hear more about it," Alfred said, his tone casual but his eyes sharp.

Brandt waved his hand dismissively. "Oh, it's all top secret, you know. Classified."

"Of course, of course," Alfred replied, nodding understandingly. "But you know how it is. A man gets curious, especially when investing in the future. Besides, a little knowledge never hurt anyone."

Brandt took another sip, his resolve weakening. "Well, there's this one project…"

Alfred leaned in, his interest piqued. "Go on."

"It's called Project Rebirth," Brandt whispered, looking around as if expecting someone to overhear. "Revolutionary stuff, really. But that's all I can say."

"I understand, Senator," Alfred said, his voice calm. "But surely you can tell me where it's taking place? Purely out of curiosity, of course."

Brandt hesitated, his drunken mind trying to cling to some semblance of caution. "I can't just go telling anyone about it, Pennyworth. It's sensitive information."

Alfred took a deep breath, offering a disarming smile. "Senator, think of it this way: knowing won't hurt anyone. In fact, it might even help me to further invest in the nation's future. I'm sure you can see the benefits of that."

Brandt's eyes narrowed slightly as he considered Alfred's words. "You've got a point there. But still, it's…"

Alfred leaned in closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Brandt, between us, I've heard whispers that some of these so-called 'classified' projects don't even exist. Just budget bloat, you know? You telling me where this one is wouldn't compromise anything-it'd just prove its legitimacy to a potential ally."

The Senator's face softened slightly, and he looked around the room again before taking another sip. "Well, I suppose…"

Alfred seized the opportunity, gently but firmly pressing. "Look, Senator, I'm not asking for the project's secrets. Just the location. So I know where my investments are going."

Brandt sighed, finally giving in. "Alright, alright. It's at Brooklyn Antiquities, 45 Dale Street, Brooklyn, NY. But keep that to yourself, Pennyworth."

"Your secret is safe with me," Alfred assured him, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.

Not willing to take any chances, Alfred made sure Brandt's glass was always full. "Another drink, Senator? To celebrate future successes."

Brandt laughed, a bit more boisterous now. "Why not! Another round!"

To ensure Brandt wouldn't remember their conversation, he'd kept the drinks flowing, leaving the Senator in a state where the details would be hazy at best by morning.

Alfred was confident that Brandt wouldn't suspect anything when things started happening at Brooklyn Antiquities.

[Flashback End]

---

Alfred took off his cap, revealing a meticulously made-up face that looked strikingly different from his own. The disguise was flawless: a false mustache, a subtle wig, and carefully applied prosthetics that altered the contours of his face. Even the most observant would struggle to recognize him. His foot remained steady on the pedal as he rifled through Kruger's suit pockets, his gloved hands moving quickly and efficiently.

His fingers soon closed around a small vial filled with a translucent blue liquid, nestled in an inner pocket. Without missing a beat, Alfred replaced it with a similar-looking vial he had prepared beforehand. The real vial, with the Super Soldier serum, was safely tucked away in his own jacket.

Finding a secluded spot on the roadside, Alfred slowed the car and then quickly exited the sedan, moving with practiced precision into a nearby alley.

The alley was dimly lit, a perfect place for a quick change. He shed the suit jacket and tie, replacing them with a casual shirt and trousers pulled from a hidden compartment in his bag.

With swift, practiced movements, he peeled off the false mustache and wig and wiped away the makeup with a cloth.

Now dressed as an ordinary civilian, he exited the alley on the other side, seamlessly blending into the crowd of people on the bustling street.

Alfred glanced back once, ensuring no one had followed him, before disappearing into the throng.

A few moments later, Heinz Kruger woke from his stupor, a dull pain throbbing in his head. He searched for the serum in his pocket and sighed with relief when he found it.

But that relief quickly turned into a sea of questions: Who had attacked him? What was their motive?

His thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the sight of a figure in the rearview mirror: the newly transformed super-soldier, Steve Rogers, sprinting towards him with alarming speed. Kruger wasted no time in taking the wheel and flooring the pedal.

Steve Rogers ran at jarring speeds, easily overtaking cars as he chased Kruger through the streets. The people he passed by were left stunned, seeing a blur of a man in a white vest moving faster than any human should. Cars honked and swerved, drivers shouting in confusion and fear.

Kruger maneuvered the black sedan with reckless abandon, narrowly avoiding collisions as he made his way towards the harbor. The sign "Brooklyn Piers" loomed above the entrance as he careened through the gates.

Abandoning the sedan, Kruger sprinted towards the spot where his submarine was docked. He fumbled with a remote control, pressing the button to surface the submarine.

But Steve had already caught up, thanks to his newly attained superhuman physique that surpassed mere humans.

Shots rang out as Kruger fired at Steve, who took cover behind a steel pillar. Steve's massive physique couldn't be completely shielded, and a bullet grazed his arm.

Unperturbed, he lunged out from cover, sprinting towards the submarine and leaping just as it began to submerge. With a single punch, he shattered the submarine's conning tower glass and tore it off with ease.

Kruger, inside the submarine, tried to fire at Steve, but the super-soldier swatted the pistol away effortlessly. Steve pulled Kruger out and threw him back onto the dock.

Kruger landed hard, the impact breaking the vial inside his pocket, the glass shards wounding him. Steve jumped back onto the harbor, and Kruger, desperate, lunged at him with a knife. Steve dodged and kneed him in the face, planting him to the ground.

Grabbing Kruger by the collar, Steve demanded, "Who the hell are you?"

Kruger, bloodied and defeated, replied, "The first of many. Cut off one head," he then bit down on a capsule fashioned like a tooth and pressed it, "two more shall take its place." Foam started appearing in Kruger's mouth as he uttered his final words with a grunt of effort, "Hail Hydra."

Steve let go of Kruger's collar, watching as the life drained from the spy's eyes. He stood there, breathing heavily, the weight of the past few hours bearing down on him. He had become a super-soldier, witnessed the death of his friend and mentor Abraham Erskine, and now faced a dead spy who had killed himself with a poison capsule. The world seemed to have changed in a day, and so had he…

---

A/N: Hope this was a little fast paced than earlier chapters.

Ch-21: Anomalous Upgrade

[Back at the Mansion]

A notification flashed before Ethan, causing him to nearly jump in joy.

[Mission Complete: Acquire the Super Soldier serum.]

[Rewards obtained: 100 coins.]

"Hahahaha, mission complete! Alfred, you bloody genius! I knew we had a solid plan, but this is just fantastic! I've been waiting all morning for this moment, and it's finally here."

The tension of whether the mission would succeed or not was non-existent. This was due to the meticulous planning he and Alfred had done prior and Alfred's skill.

Ethan quickly opened the Gacha, 'Hope I get something good. Something that would be useful while fighting the Nazis, at least.'

With that thought, he pressed [Spin x2, and the wheel churned. After spinning for some time, it slowed down, and after a few clicks, it stopped.

With a similar animation to his earlier spins, the rewards appeared before him.

[Congratulations, you have obtained a "Random Skill Upgrade" card.]

[Congratulations, you have obtained "SCP-914 (limited use)" item card.]

Ethan scanned the item descriptions, 'Yes! [SCP-914, the Clockwork! I can't believe my luck. I've read about this thing on the SCP wiki, and it's a pretty good item for upgrading or degrading things. Limited use, but still, this is huge, literally.'

Excited about the item he got, Ethan scanned his memory, finding everything he could about it.

[SCP-914, known as the Clockwork, was a machine capable of refining or altering any object placed within it. The machine had five settings: Rough, Coarse, 1:1, Fine, and Very Fine. Through various experiments, it was discovered that 'Fine' produced improved versions of items placed within, while 'Very Fine' often yielded unpredictable, albeit potent, results. The danger lay in the fact that 'Very Fine' sometimes produced unstable or hazardous outcomes, rendering it a risky option.

'The safest use of [SCP-914] would be to put in some useful items and turn the dial to Fine. I could get slightly upgraded versions, which would be a lot better than what I put in. Very Fine is too dangerous, but still, I could try it, maybe once. For now, I'll wait till Alfred gets back home with the serum. Maybe I can upgrade the serum to see if I get something better,' Ethan thought, his mind racing with possibilities about the items he could potentially upgrade.

His thoughts then drifted to the other reward, a [Random Skill Upgrade card]. 'Does upgrade mean leveling up, or does it actually make the skill itself more advanced? If it's the latter, I hope it's either {Dash} or my shadow-related skills. Then again, the shooting and hand combat skills I learned from Alfred could evolve into something truly formidable.'

His excitement grew as he imagined the possibilities. Deciding to take the plunge, Ethan activated the Random Skill Upgrade card. The card dissolved into light, enveloping him briefly before fading away.

'Let's see what I've got,' he thought, opening his skill menu with eager anticipation.

At first glance, nothing seemed to have changed, but when he looked carefully, Ethan saw a slight change in one of the skill names and its description. {Swordsmanship/HEMA} had changed into {HEMA}, with the new description reading: an initiate in ways of HEMA (Historical European Martial Arts).

That's weird. Is just {HEMA} different from {Swordsmanship/HEMA}? How so? Ethan wondered. He focused on the skill and summoned a one-handed arming sword from his inventory.

The sword was newly acquired, crafted from high-carbon steel, meticulously heat-treated, and tempered to achieve both flexibility and edge retention.

It was a modern smithing masterpiece, requiring a substantial investment and considerable patience, but the blacksmith had delivered nothing short of excellence.

Ethan swung the sword around, relying on his muscle memory. The movements felt familiar, practiced. He frowned, expecting to feel something different, some new connection or understanding. But it felt the same.

He was puzzled and slightly frustrated as to why there were no changes despite the change in skill description and name.

But then he decided to test another weapon.

A dagger appeared in his hand out of thin air, its blade gleaming under the light, a perfect balance of weight and sharpness.

The moment his hand wrapped around the hilt, the skill upgrade kicked in. His skeletal body moved on its own, fluidly and precisely. Ethan found himself going through a series of motions.

He executed a perfect Oberstich, a downward thrust aimed at an opponent's head or shoulder, followed by an Unterstich, a rising thrust from below. The movements were swift and fluid, showing an understanding of angles and leverage.

He transitioned into a thrust, extending his arm fully while maintaining a balanced stance, and then finished with a Krumphau, redirecting an imaginary opponent's strike to the side.

As he stopped, Ethan understood that the upgrade had enhanced his skill beyond just swordsmanship.

Maybe… just maybe, {HEMA} gives me the skill to use every martial art that falls under its domain, he thought, excitement creeping into his mind.

Although it was still at level 1, the versatility this upgrade provided was immense. His combat options had increased significantly, and he could now wield a variety of weapons with newfound proficiency.

His earlier frustration melted away, replaced by a sense of satisfaction. The skill upgrade was indeed very good.

[A few hours later]

The door to the villa creaked open, and Alfred stepped in. He was still in the same attire he had left in: a tailored three-piece suit that exuded an air of sophistication.

His appearance was impeccable, as if he had just returned from a high-profile business meeting, not a daring mission to steal one of the most sought-after items by the US military.

"Good evening, Master Ethan," Alfred greeted with a subtle bow. "I trust you've been keeping yourself occupied."

Ethan sprang up from his sofa, a wide grin spreading across his skeletal face. "Alfred, you did it! I knew you would. How did it go?"

Alfred's eyes twinkled with a hint of mischief. "Quite uneventfully, actually. I completed my mission without any complications." He reached into his coat and produced a small, insulated container.

Opening it with a practiced flick, he revealed a vial filled with a translucent blue liquid. "Here it is, the Super Soldier Serum."

Ethan's eye flames shimmered brightly as he took the vial, examining it closely. The liquid inside seemed to shimmer, its azure hue captivating.

Intrusive thoughts flitted through his mind: What if he accidentally dropped it? What if it shattered against the floor? He quickly shook his head, dispelling the thoughts, and handed the vial back to Alfred.

"Alfred, this is incredible. But, listen, I got something that might make this even better," Ethan said, his voice steady but filled with interest. "I got a card from the Gacha, an [SCP-914]. It can upgrade items, potentially even this serum."

Alfred's brows furrowed in confusion. "[SCP-914, you say? I must admit, Master Ethan, I'm unfamiliar with such a device."

Ethan nodded, understanding the confusion. "It's a fictional object. [SCP-914, also known as 'The Clockwork,' can refine and upgrade items. It's like a machine that can take something ordinary and turn it into something extraordinary."

Alfred's eyes narrowed in thought. "I see. Quite the intriguing notion. However, might I suggest we proceed with caution? We should study the serum in its current state, understand its properties, and then upgrade it. This way, we can compare and learn from both versions."

Ethan nodded, realizing the wisdom in Alfred's words. "Yeah, you're right. I was being too hasty. Besides, it's not like I have a use for the serum right now."

The two settled into the room, the air thick with the scent of aged wood and leather from the furniture. They began to discuss other potential upgrades.

"What items should we upgrade first?" Ethan pondered aloud, pulling out the [wrist-mounted rope dart]. He inspected the device, recalling its similarities with the one in Assassin's Creed games.

Alfred observed the weapon with a keen eye. "A fine choice, Master Ethan. Practical and versatile. I would also recommend we consider upgrading some automatic rifles, perhaps silenced ones. They could prove invaluable in your upcoming operations. And RPGs, along with other powerful explosives, could greatly benefit from enhancements."

Ethan nodded thoughtfully. "Good idea. And remember, if two items are put together in [SCP-914, they can merge and the results usually depend on the user's intentions."

Alfred gave a small, approving smile. "If that's so, our priorities should be on the most critical tools first. Let's make a list, shall we?"

Soon, a list was created, and the first item to be upgraded was the "Wrist Mounted Rope Dart."

Now, all he had to do was to summon [SCP-914] and commence with the upgrades.

Deciding that the basement would be the ideal location due to its size and seclusion, Ethan led Alfred downstairs. The basement was a cold, expansive space, its stone walls and floor emanating a chill that seemed to seep into one's bones.

The only light came from a few scattered bulbs hanging from the ceiling, casting long shadows that danced with every movement.

Ethan produced the item card and summoned [SCP-914]. With a soft glow, the card dissolved, and a massive clockwork device materialized before them.

A notification blinked in Ethan's vision, indicating the item's limited use of five times. He dismissed it with a thought, his focus on the impressive machine before him.

[SCP-914] was a marvel of mechanical complexity, a large device covering an area of eighteen square meters. Its myriad components-screw drives, belts, pulleys, gears, and springs-created a symphony of intricate movements. The clockwork was composed mainly of tin and copper, with occasional wooden and cloth elements woven into its structure. Despite its size and complexity, there were no electronic assemblies or power sources evident, save for the "Mainspring" under the "Selection Panel."

At the center of this intricate device were two large booths, each measuring three meters by 2.1 meters by 2.1 meters, connected to the main body of [SCP-914] via copper tubes. One booth was labeled "Intake," the other "Output." Between them, a copper panel with a large knob and a small arrow caught Ethan's eye.

The knob had labels positioned around it: Rough, Coarse, 1:1, Fine, and Very Fine. Below the knob, a large key protruded, waiting to be turned to wind the mainspring.

Ethan's eyes lit up with a keen interest as he gazed at [SCP-914, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. He reached out a hand, his fingers tracing the device's intricate mechanisms with a sense of fascination.

Ethan approached the "Intake" booth, carefully placing the [Wrist Mounted Rope Dart] inside. The door slid shut with a mechanical precision, followed by the resonant sound of a bell. With a steady hand, Ethan turned the knob to "Fine" and then grasped the key, winding it with deliberate care.

Now, all they had to do was wait. The basement was filled with the sounds of [SCP-914] at work, its gears clicking and whirring, a hypnotic rhythm of mechanical labor. Ethan and Alfred stood in quiet anticipation, their breath slightly visible in the chilly air.

After about five minutes, a ding signaled the completion of the process. The door of the "Output" booth slid open with a smooth, practiced motion. Ethan stepped forward, his skeletal fingers reaching for the upgraded item. As he lifted it from the booth, he marveled at the transformation.

The wrist mount, once made of leather, was now sleek steel, padded on the inside to protect the user's hand. The rope, formerly a coarse jute, had been replaced with a strong, flexible metallic cord. At the base of the device, a sophisticated pulley system had been integrated, ensuring smooth and efficient operation. The dart at the front gleamed with a polished finish, its aerodynamic design promising improved accuracy and speed.

Ethan turned the enhanced weapon over in his hands, appreciating the craftsmanship. "This is awesome. It really got upgraded, I mean it was expected but still…"

Alfred nodded, his eyes reflecting a blend of admiration and respect. "Indeed, Master Ethan. The transformation is quite impressive. This device will undoubtedly prove invaluable in your endeavors."

Next in line was an idea Ethan considered radical. The thought of combining the precision and long range of an M1903A4 sniper rifle with the automatic fire capabilities of an M1 Thompson submachine gun was quite thrilling.

With both weapons in hand, Ethan approached the Intake chamber of [SCP-914]. The sniper rifle, with its long, slender barrel and wooden stock, contrasted sharply with the bulkier, shorter M1 Thompson, its iconic drum magazine and metallic finish giving it a rugged appearance.

He placed them side by side within the chamber, the door sliding shut with that familiar mechanical precision. Ethan turned the knob to "Fine," his anticipation building with each click.

Five minutes felt like an eternity, each second stretching out, the rhythmic clinking of the clockwork device blending with the low hum of the machinery. Then, with a sharp ding, the Output chamber's door slid open, revealing the fruit of the machine's labor.

What lay before Ethan was a weapon unlike anything he had ever seen. The gun was an amalgamation of both the M1903A4 and the M1 Thompson, yet it transcended both in form and function. Its sleek, black metal frame exuded a menacing elegance, the long barrel extending from the body reminiscent of a modern sniper rifle. The precision engineering was evident in every detail.

Ethan's eyes traced the weapon's length, noting the elongated magazine positioned in front of the trigger mechanism. The magazine was designed to hold an impressive amount of ammunition, promising sustained firepower.

Just above the magazine, an ejection mechanism was situated on the right side, designed for efficient discharge of spent casings.

Further inspection revealed a switch on the side of the gun, its function immediately clear. With a simple flick, the firing mode could be changed from automatic to single fire, offering versatility in combat situations.

The gun also sported a high-quality scope, its lenses glinting faintly in the basement's dim light, promising unmatched accuracy over long distances.

The weapon was imposing, nearly 4.5 feet in length, a testament to its strength. It was both a sniper rifle and a submachine gun, a hybrid designed for a new kind of warfare.

"Wow! This looks so cool." Ethan said, running his bony fingers along the metal surface, feeling the cold, smooth texture.

A name inscribed along the side of the gun caught his eye: "Hunt Industries." Below it, a model designation added a touch of identity to the creation: [Model VX-9]. The name was unfamiliar but he didn't give it much thought and moved on.

As he hefted the gun, feeling its weight and balance, he knew it was a game-changer. Deciding to test it out later, he handed it to Alfred, who inspected it meticulously.

Alfred began, his eyes narrowing as he examined the rifle. "The craftsmanship is exquisite. Quite the blend of firepower and precision… Hunt Industries, never heard of them."

"Neither have I," Ethan replied, watching as Alfred continued to scrutinize the weapon. "But this combination… it's remarkable."

Alfred flipped the switch between automatic and single fire modes, testing the mechanism with a practiced hand. "Versatile. Could be a game-changer in the field, indeed."

Ethan nodded, his thoughts aligning with Alfred's assessment. "We'll have to test it out, see how it performs under different conditions."

"Indeed," Alfred agreed, handing the rifle back to Ethan with a satisfied nod. "But for now, I suggest we move on to the next item. We have a list to work through, after all."

Putting the rifle in his inventory, Ethan nodded and then brought out a crate full of dynamite sticks along with its detonator. The old wooden crate was hefty and cumbersome, its rough surface worn from years of storage. He placed it carefully into the intake chamber of [SCP-914] and, with a practiced motion, turned the knob to "Fine." The machine whirred to life, the clockwork mechanisms churning with precise determination.

As the minutes ticked by, Ethan and Alfred waited in silence, the mechanical symphony of [SCP-914] filling the room. Finally, after six minutes, the output chamber's door slid open with a soft chime. Inside, the wooden crate had been replaced by a sleek, metallic box, its surface smooth and polished. Ethan grabbed its handle, noting that the crate was noticeably lighter than its predecessor. He pulled it out of the chamber and set it on a nearby table.

With Alfred by his side, Ethan opened the box to inspect its contents. Inside the metallic box, nestled amidst protective black foam, were multiple cubes wrapped in clear plastic, each nearly a foot in length and breadth. The cubes had small electrical components attached to them, including what appeared to be digital screens displaying timers. Alongside the cubes, there was a small device that looked like a remote control.

Ethan's eyes lit up with curiosity as he picked up one of the cubes. "Interesting. These aren't just simple dynamite sticks anymore."

Alfred leaned in, examining the cube closely. "Indeed, Master Ethan. These modifications… it appears they've been transformed into some sort of advanced explosive device."

Ethan turned the cube over in his hands, noting the compact design and the intricate wiring of the electrical components. "The timers suggest these can be set to detonate at specific intervals. And this," he gestured to the remote control, "likely allows for remote activation. A significant upgrade from traditional dynamite."

Alfred nodded, his expression thoughtful. "I see. So, not only do we have a more efficient explosive, but also one that offers greater control and flexibility in its deployment."

"Exactly," Ethan agreed. He placed the cube back in the crate and picked up the remote control, examining it closely. "This remote seems to be able to control all the cubes simultaneously or individually. The digital screens on the cubes should make it easy to set precise timers."

"Quite the advancement," Alfred remarked, a hint of admiration in his voice. "This could be exceptionally useful for your operations. Setting charges and coordinating explosions from a distance adds a significant strategic advantage."

Ethan nodded, his mind already racing with possibilities, of which, the first of many was already decided.

Finally, Ethan closed the box and transferred it into his inventory with a thought.

After all these successful upgrades, Ethan was starting to feel confident-perhaps overly so. His next target was more ambitious: his weapon and armor [Slimes].

In Ethan's mind, this idea was perfect. After all, there were only two more upgrades left, one of which he had to save for future use, specifically for upgrading the serum.

'This is going to be interesting,' Ethan thought. 'I've seen what [SCP-914] can do with regular items. Let's push the boundaries a bit and see what it can do with something magical.'

He carefully removed both [Slimes] from his body, feeling a strange sense of vulnerability as their protective and offensive capabilities left his frame. The [Slimes, one for weapons and the other for armor, jiggled and shimmered as he placed them in the intake chamber.

Ethan's trepidation grew as he turned the knob to "Fine."

'What if this doesn't work? What if it ruins them instead?… But I have to know. If it works, it could give me a significant edge in my future fights.'

The machine whirred to life again, the familiar hum filling the room. Ethan stood back, watching with bated breath. His mind raced with possibilities and concerns.

'Come on, don't let me down now. You've done wonders so far. These [Slimes] are crucial-my primary defense and offense. If they come out better, I'll be unstoppable. But if they come out worse…'

Minutes stretched into what felt like hours as the machine continued its work. Ethan's mind flickered back and forth between hope and doubt.

'It's risky, but that's what this is all about, isn't it? Taking risks to get stronger, to be prepared for whatever comes next. I need to be ready. I need every advantage I can get to fight what's out there.'

Finally, after 9 minutes, the output chamber door slid open with a soft ding. Ethan stepped forward, his heart pounding in his chest despite his skeletal form.

'Here we go,' he thought, peering into the chamber to see the results of his daring experiment…

Ch-22: To England

'Here we go,' he thought, peering into the chamber to see the results of his daring experiment.

Ethan saw a blob of slime before him. At first glance, it wasn't much different from the smaller blobs he had put in before, except now it was a single, larger mass.

He picked it up and willed some mana into it, establishing a connection. As his mana entered the blob, he felt the changes brought about by [SCP-914].

The [Slime] responded instantly to his will, able to take any shape or form he desired, limited only by his imagination.

Additionally, the [Slime] could expand and increase its size by 50% more than its original mass when supplied with mana. Its mana-conducting property allowed him to use {Sharpen} without any fear of decreasing its durability.

Additionally, the [Slime] was now incredibly durable, especially when infused with mana. Although Ethan hadn't tested it yet, he could sense its resilience through their connection.

'This is perfect,' Ethan thought, feeling a rush of satisfaction. 'A versatile item that compliments my skills flawlessly.'

Without wasting a moment, he willed the [Slime] to cover his body in a full-body suit and helmet. The [Slime] moved swiftly, enveloping him in less than a second. The suit felt like a second skin, flexible yet protective.

Then he added some details to the suit, making it look more like being made from normal materials than slime. He also added holsters and a utility belt for grenades and other miscellaneous items.

Thinking some more, he decided to give the suit a more modern look by adding dynamic armor panels on shoulders and chest.

And of course, the whole suit and helmet were black in color to complement the aesthetics of his powers.

Ethan turned to Alfred, a hint of excitement in his voice, "How do I look, Alfred?"

Alfred studied him with a critical eye, then nodded appreciatively. "Quite formidable, sir. If I may say so, you look ready to take on an army."

Ethan smiled under his helmet, feeling a surge of confidence. He then turned his attention to The Clockworks, carefully taking it back into his inventory. With the final preparations complete, he felt a sense of readiness settle over him.

'Everything's set,' Ethan thought, his mind turning to the mission ahead. 'Now, it's time to join the war.'

---

[Third person POV]

[Two days Later]

Ethan sat in the study, the flickering flames in his eye sockets casting an eerie blue glow on the walls as he reviewed his plans. The door creaked open, and Alfred entered with a stoic look on his face.

"Master Ethan, I've gathered intel on the Nazi's concentration camps. The largest one is Auschwitz, in Poland," Alfred announced, his voice steady.

Ethan looked up and the intensity of his blue flames flared slightly, "Excellent, I had been waiting for you. What's the layout of Auschwitz, Alfred?"

Alfred stepped closer, pulling out a folded map from his coat pocket and held it out towards Ethan, "I've managed to acquire a rough map from a reliable source. It shows the main camp, Birkenau, and the surrounding subcamps."

Ethan took the map with his gloves hand, his flames flickering with interest as he studied it intently. "Good. That's a great start. I'll need to study it carefully."

Looking up, he asked, "How did you get this exactly?"

Alfred's eyes met Ethan's, a glint of pride in them. "I have a Polish contact who has provided valuable insights into the Nazi's operations in Europe."

Ethan leaned back in his chair, the blue flames in his eyes softening momentarily. "That's quite a feat, Alfred. How did you manage to establish contact with the Polish Resistance? "

"Well, Master Ethan, I've had dealings with various businessmen and investors according to your instructions. And one of them, a Polish entrepreneur, has connections with the Resistance. He's been providing me with valuable intel," Alfred explained, his voice calm and composed.

Ethan's eye flames flared slightly, his tone slightly more calm as he spoke. "I see. And this entrepreneur, is he trustworthy?"

Alfred nodded, his expression somber. "As trustworthy as anyone in this line of work, Master Ethan. Let's just say he has a vested interest in seeing the Nazis defeated. He's lost family members to their brutality."

Ethan's flames flickered again as he nodded slightly, "I understand."

Then he remembered, "By the way, what about Max Eisendhart? Have you found anything on the kid?"

Alfred sighed, his head dropping down slightly. Then, he shook his head as he spoke, "I'm afraid not, Master Ethan. Finding information about a single child in a war-torn area is like looking for a needle in a haystack. I've tried every avenue, but so far, nothing has turned up."

Ethan leaned back, a small sigh escaping his maw, "I expected as much, but I had to try."

"I'm sorry, Master Ethan…"

Alfred looked up, "Although, I have found something about a certain Nathaniel Essex you spoke of."

Although quite intrigued, Ethan remained calm, "Oh, tell me what you found."

Alfred pulled out a folder, filled with yellowed papers and faded ink. "Nathaniel Essex… a fascinating individual, Master Ethan. Born into nobility in 19th century England, he showed a keen interest in science and prediction from a young age. His work at Oxford University was groundbreaking, but his obsession with evolution and mutation led him down a dangerous path."

Ethan listened calmly as Alfred continued, "He spoke of 'Essex Factors' and talked about the emergence of a new race of humans, but his unorthodox methods got him ousted from the Royal Society."

Ethan joined his palms, his fingers crossing together in front of him as he leaned forward intrigued, "And what of his personal life, Alfred?"

"Tragedy struck when his son Adam passed away at a young age. Dr. Essex's grief drove him deeper into his work, but it also led to his downfall. His wife, Rebecca, tried to keep him grounded, but his obsession consumed him," Alfred's expression was stoic as detailed the tragedy.

Ethan's flames flickered, "I see. And what of his current whereabouts, Alfred?"

Alfred shook his head, "I couldn't find any information on his current activities, Master Ethan. After getting kicked out of the Royal Society, he seemed to have vanished from the face of earth and is now presumed dead."

Ethan parted his gloved hands, "Thanks a lot, Alfred. That was immensely helpful."

"You're welcome, Master Ethan."

Then Alfred looked at his wristwatch, seeing that it was now 9 o'clock. "Now, let's get you to England. Your ship awaits," Alfred said, a hint of urgency in his tone.

Ethan nodded, putting all the files in a briefcase before transferring it to his inventory. They walked out to the Lincoln Continental parked outside, the cool night air brushing against them.

Alfred drove them through the dimly lit streets of New York, heading towards the Brooklyn Piers.

[Ethan's POV]

As the car moved, Ethan's mind went through the implications of the information he got.

'So, Nathaniel Essex does exist in this universe. Then, Mr. Sinister must be the one performing experiments at Auschwitz and not Dr. Klaus Schmidt.' (A/N: Klaus Schmidt was the alias used by Sebastian Shaw in the X-Men movies.)

The scenery outside passed by as he thought further, 'If I am to rescue magneto, I would have to be careful. Sinister is quite powerful right now, although not as strong as in the future, he can still easily defeat me if I fight him head on… I will have to come up with a plan to take him on.'

The whole ride went by as Ethan thought of different ideas and ways he could combat Sinister along with the fact that there were characters from Marvel comics instead of just the movies made this world far more treacherous for him.

As Ethan didn't have much knowledge about the comics characters and timelines except for some famous ones.

'I need to become stronger as quickly as I can. Otherwise, I won't be able to survive.'

[Third person POV]

Soon, the car came to a stop at the harbor, the sound of the engine died down, and the only noise was the creaking of the ship's rigging and the distant lapping of waves against the shore.

Ethan opened the door and stepped out into the night air, the cool breeze carrying the salty scent of the ocean and the faint hint of diesel fuel. Alfred followed suit, his long coat billowing behind him like a dark cloud.

Alfred handed Ethan a neatly folded paper. "Your first-class ticket, Master Ethan," he said, his voice stoic as always. "You are booked under the name Austin Brooks. I have requested that you not be disturbed during the voyage, and food will be left outside your door."

Ethan took the ticket, his gloved hand closing around it with a soft rustle of paper. "Thank you, Alfred," Ethan replied.

Alfred's eyes gleamed in the dim light of the harbor lamps. "I have arranged for your privacy, Master Ethan and you should be able to slip aboard unnoticed with your abilities." He paused, his gaze flicking around the deserted harbor. "You will be able to travel to England in a week without interacting with anyone, as per your wish."

Ethan nodded, his blue flames flickering softly in the darkness. "I appreciate your efforts, Alfred."

"Master Ethan, just be careful. The journey ahead will be treacherous."

Ethan placed a hand on Alfred's shoulder, the blue flames in his eyes flickering softly. "I will. Thanks again for everything. You've been a true friend."

Alfred's stern facade softened slightly. "May God be with you, Master Ethan. May you return safely."

"Goodbye, Alfred," Ethan said, as he turned to walk towards the ship.

"Goodbye, Master Ethan," Alfred replied, watching as Ethan turned and walked towards the waiting ship.

[Ethan's POV]

Ethan moved towards the RMS Queen Mary, its towering presence dominating the harbor. The ship, a behemoth of maritime engineering, stretched out before him with its sleek, streamlined hull painted in navy and white.

Its three tall smokestacks reached skyward, and the numerous portholes glinted in the moonlight like a thousand watchful eyes. The vessel's deck, perched 20 meters above the dock and towering even higher above the waterline, seemed almost unreachable from his vantage point.

As he neared the colossal ship, Ethan activated {Dash}, his dark form a blur as he leapt high into the air. His newly upgraded [Slime] in form of suit, propelled him higher than ever before, but even with its assistance, he couldn't quite reach the deck in a single bound. When he was just a few meters shy of his target, Ethan raised his wrist and aimed his newly upgraded [Wrist Mounted Rope Dart].

The dart shot out with precision, the metallic wire trailing behind it, and wrapped securely around the guardrail. With the click of a button, the wire began to reel in, pulling Ethan rapidly towards the deck.

The night air whistled past him as he was drawn upwards, the rhythmic clanking of the reeling mechanism a stark contrast to the silent expanse of the darkened harbor.

As he neared the deck, Ethan flicked his wrist, causing the chord to release and retract. He landed gracefully on the deck in a superhero landing as the [Slime] seamlessly absorbed the impact.

"Who are you?" A deep and commanding voice rang out, cutting through the stillness of the night. "What is your business on this ship?"

Ethan turned towards the source of the voice, finding a man clad in a worn denim jacket with a faded Navy insignia on the sleeve. The man wore a crumpled white sailor's cap, and rugged canvas pants adorned with a subtle anchor emblem on the pocket. A faded black neckerchief was knotted loosely around his neck. His eyes, sharp and unyielding, were fixed intently on Ethan, and his hand rested tautly on a utility belt hidden beneath his jacket.

Ch-23: Who are you?

[Mysterious POV]

A tall man with broad shoulders and a confident stride stood in the dimly lit hotel room, methodically packing his suitcase. His outfit, a well-tailored brown suit paired with a crisp white shirt, spoke volumes about his attention to detail and taste.

Each item was folded neatly and placed with precision, reflecting his disciplined nature. At the bottom of the suitcase, hidden beneath a false layer, lay a neatly folded navy blue outfit with red lines, a knife and a pair of revolvers.

The man then checked the clock on the wall. It was 8:30 PM, and the ship was scheduled to depart in an hour. His mission in the United States was finally complete, and he was ready to return to England. Just then, a faint rustle caught his attention. He turned to see a slim envelope slide under the door.

With a slight, nearly unnoticeable frown, he walked over and picked up the envelope. The seal was unmistakable, a sign from his handlers. Breaking the seal, he unfolded the paper inside. To an ordinary person, it would appear to be a letter from a mother to her child, but the man was no ordinary person. He quickly decoded the letter, focusing on the strategically placed words that formed the hidden message: "Hydra aboard Queen."

His brows furrowed in seriousness at the message. Then, he tore the letter into small pieces and disposed of them in the wastebasket.

He picked up the suitcase, killed the lights, and locked the door behind him.

Downstairs, he approached the front desk and handed the key to the hotel staff. "Thank you for the stay. It was quite comfortable," he said, his voice carrying the unmistakable British lilt of an upper-class upbringing, combined with the hardened edge of a seasoned soldier.

The receptionist nodded, smiling. "Glad to hear it, sir. Safe travels."

The man tipped his hat and walked out the front door, the bell ringing softly behind him. He stepped onto the bustling street, raising his hand to hail a taxi. One pulled up almost immediately, and he climbed in, placing his suitcase beside him.

"Brooklyn Piers," he instructed the driver, his tone firm and authoritative.

The driver nodded, glancing at him in the rearview mirror. "Right away, sir."

In half an hour, the taxi reached the pier where the RMS Queen Mary loomed, its three large smokestacks silhouetted against the night sky. The massive ship exuded an air of grandeur and purpose, its decks bustling with activity as crew members and passengers prepared for departure. The man paid the driver and stepped out, his eyes scanning the scene with practiced vigilance. He approached the gangway, where a uniformed officer was checking tickets and inspecting luggage.

"Ticket, please," the officer requested, his tone courteous yet firm.

The man handed over his first-class ticket with a slight nod. "Here you go."

The officer examined the ticket and glanced at him, then at his suitcase. "Everything seems to be in order, Mr. Taylor. Welcome aboard."

"Thank you," The man replied, his voice steady.

He walked up the gangway and boarded the ship, blending seamlessly with the throng of passengers. Once he reached his cabin, he quickly placed his suitcase on the bed and opened it. His movements were swift and precise as he retrieved the hidden utility belt, two revolvers, and a knife. He strapped the belt around his waist, ensuring it was concealed under his coat, and holstered the weapons.

Satisfied with his preparations, he left his room, moving with purpose through the narrow corridors of the ship. He navigated past a few guards with practiced ease, his footsteps silent on the metal floors. His destination was the workers' quarters, a less scrutinized area where he could gather more intel.

The man slipped into the locker room, his eyes searching for an outfit that would allow him to blend in. He found what he was looking for: a worn denim jacket with a faded Navy insignia on the sleeve, a crumpled white sailor's cap, rugged canvas pants adorned with a subtle anchor emblem on the pocket, and a faded black neckerchief.

Discarding his current outfit, he donned the worker's clothes, adjusting the jacket and cap to fit snugly. The transformation was remarkable; he now looked like just another sailor preparing for the voyage. Satisfied with his disguise, he checked himself in the small, cracked mirror inside the locker.

After completing his disguise, the man was ready. He moved swiftly through the ship's dimly lit corridors and staircases, making his way to the upper deck. His plan was to start his search from the top, scanning for any suspicious activity or potential Hydra operatives.

As he crossed the massive deck of the Queen Mary, the sound of metal clinking caught his attention. The noise was followed by the unmistakable sound of something being reeled in quickly. Instinctively, he turned towards the source of the noise, his senses on high alert.

Out of the shadows, a figure clad in a black suit from head to toe landed gracefully on the deck. The suit was sleek and form-fitting, with a faint shimmer that suggested advanced materials, perhaps even experimental technology. The figure's movements were fluid and precise, betraying a high level of training and skill.

The man's pupils widened in surprise and suspicion. This figure could very well be a Hydra agent, given the advanced technology and the stealthy entrance. Without hesitation, he placed his hand on the revolver holstered under his coat, ready to draw it at a moment's notice.

"Who are you? What is your business on this ship?" he demanded, his voice steady but firm.

The figure turned towards him, the black mask obscuring any facial features. For a moment, there was silence, the tension between them palpable. The figure took a step forward, raising a gloved hand in a gesture of caution.

"I'm not here to harm you," the figure replied, their voice modulated and calm.

The man's grip on the revolver tightened, his eyes narrowing as he studied the figure. "And why should I believe you?" he asked, his tone skeptical. "For all I know, you could be one of them."

"One of whom?" The figure asked, voicing his confusion.

The man replied even more aggressively, "Don't play dumb with me, mate."

The figure raised his hands in a placating gesture, the gloved fingers spread wide. "Listen, I'm just on my way to England, nothing more. The name's Ethan."

[Ethan's POV]

Even after his gesture, the man standing in front of him didn't seem to ease his grip on the revolver.

Multiple scenarios flashed through Ethan's mind. He could kill the man and store his corpse in the inventory to dispose of later, but that was a last resort. Considering the man in front of him hadn't fired immediately, Ethan deduced that he wasn't an immediate threat.

His bearing and accent suggested he might be British military or intelligence.

As Ethan's mind weighed the options, he thought incapacitating the man might work, but it wasn't feasible to keep someone unconscious for a seven-day journey.

Another possibility was to use the level-up he had been saving, allocating the stat points to Charisma and attempting to persuade the man, which was basically a gamble.

If he was successful he would be able to gain some network in the British intelligence but if he was unsuccessful, he could always kill him.

As for how to persuade him? Ethan could use the map of the concentration camps that Alfred had given him, it wasn't some special information and it could help prove his point.

Ethan decided to act quickly.

In less than a second, Ethan accessed the level-up stored in his inventory and allocated all 10 stat points to Charisma, bringing it up to 11. With a newfound confidence, he spoke, his voice calm and earnest.

"Look, I understand your caution. You don't know me, and I don't know you, but we seem to be on the same side. I'm here to assist the Allied forces in their fight against the Nazis. I suspect you might have similar objectives."

The man's eyes narrowed, still wary but showing a hint of curiosity. "You expect me to believe you're taking on the Nazis? Prove it, mate."

Ethan took a slow, deliberate step forward, making sure to keep his movements non-threatening. "I have information about their operations and plans, gathered from various sources."

Putting his hands in a pocket, he pulled out the map given to him by Alfred. He unfurled it and showed it to the man in front of him.

The man studied the map, his grip on the revolver relaxing just slightly. "Alright, mate, you've got my attention. But how do I know you're not one of them bloody Nazis trying to pull a fast one?"

"Because if I were, we'd already be fighting. You seem to be a capable operative, and from your stance and the way you carry yourself, I'd bet you're someone important in this war."

The man's eyes flickered with surprise as he considered Ethan's words.

Meanwhile, Ethan continued, sensing he was making progress. "My goal is to reach England and fight in the war. My family was killed by the Nazis, and I had to escape to America. I've dedicated my life to avenging them and putting an end to the Nazi threat. If you're still not convinced, then… I guess we can only fight it out."

The man narrowed his eyes, his grip on the revolver loosening just slightly. "That's quite the story, mate. But where did you get that suit? No normal bloke comes across tech like that."

Ethan took a deep breath, preparing his fabricated tale. "After escaping to the USA, I met a scientist who had also lost his family to the Nazis. I helped him rebuild, and when I proposed revenge, he built this suit for me. It's our weapon against the Nazis."

The man's gaze lingered on the suit, his expression unreadable. "I see." He paused, his eyes flicking to Ethan's masked face. "Alright then, mate, remove your mask. I need to see your face. No tricks."

Ethan hesitated, knowing that wasn't an option. "I can't show you my face because I don't trust you yet either… How about a temporary truce where we keep an eye on each other until we trust one another?"

The man's expression hardened, his jaw clenched in consideration. After a moment, he nodded curtly. "Alright, truce it is then. Name's James Falsworth, British Intelligence."

He holstered his revolver, "We've got Hydra spies onboard wanting to sabotage this ship because it's carrying supplies for the war to England. To prove you're not full of it, you'll have to help me take out these spies."

'James Falsworth', he repeated in his mind. The name felt familiar and Ethan repeated it in his mind again. Then it clicked.

'Union Jack! The British Superhero.'

His gamble of trying to convince a random British intelligence agent had worked and he had directly met a superhero.

James continued, "You can't be seen by others in a get-up like that. You'll have to hide or maybe change your disguise."

Ethan contemplated for a second on whether he should do it or not. And after a second, he arrived at the conclusion that showing the man one of his powers wouldn't be a bad idea and he could establish himself as a superhero as well, who is willing to fight for the Allied cause.

Ethan smiled behind his mask. "Oh, I forgot to show you something," he said, and then using his {Shadow Meld} skill he vanished from James's sight.

James immediately clutched his revolver, looking around in rapt attention.

A second later, Ethan emerged a few feet behind James, silently exiting the shadows.

But James instinctively aimed the revolver at him, eyes wide. "What the bloody hell was that? Some kind of magic?"

Ethan mentally commended him for catching that at the first glance but said, "No, it's not magic. It's my superpower. I can see in the dark and hide in the shadows. That's why I'm confident about taking on the Nazis."

James smirked, lowering his revolver. "Bloody hell, you're full of surprises. Alright, Shadow Man, let's see what you've got. But don't get cocky-there's more to this mission than meets the eye."

The ship's horn blared, signaling its departure from the harbor…

Ch-24: Fear is the Mind killer

James Falsworth and Ethan started moving through the ship's corridors, the thrum of the RMS Queen Mary's engines providing a steady backdrop.

Ethan, despite being a skeleton, felt a twinge of excitement. After all, this was the first time he had met a Marvel Superhero and was on a mission with him. He couldn't help but feel a bit starstruck.

"Where do we start?" Ethan asked, his tone steady but with a hint of eagerness.

James glanced at him, his expression serious. "The spies'll be disguised, mate. We can't just go around checkin' everybody to see who's who. Best thing to do is focus on their objective: sabotagin' this ship. To do that, they'll likely target critical areas - engine room, navigation systems, communications. And they could be disguised as crew members for easier access."

Ethan nodded, his mind racing. "So, the first thing to do is check the crew's identity?"

"Exactly," James replied, his voice carrying the weight of experience. "We'll have to take it one by one. Fortunately, we've got some time. The Hydra spies won't sabotage the ship near America - it'd make them an easier target and the people could be rescued easily. Same goes for near England. They'll likely try somethin' in the middle of the journey. We've got seven days of travel left, so we can expect sabotage in about two to three days."

Ethan processed the information quickly. "Maybe they have an escape vehicle. If we can find that, it might help."

James paused, considering the suggestion. "Or they're mad enough to sacrifice themselves for their cause. You know their slogan? 'Cut off one head, two more shall take its place.' Fanatical blighters, every one of them."

Ethan nodded in agreement. "True, but it's still worth checking for any hidden lifeboats or unusual equipment. It could give us an edge."

James grunted, a sound of reluctant agreement. "Aye, you might be right. We'll start with the crew and work our way through the ship. Keep your eyes sharp and your wits about you. This lot won't make it easy."

The two continued their walk, slipping past the occasional passenger and crew member. Ethan used {Shadow Meld} whenever someone passed by, before reappearing silently at James's side.

Meanwhile, James walked with the confident stride of a seasoned operative, his eyes constantly scanning their surroundings.

The interior of the RMS Queen Mary was a sight of opulence and functionality. Ornate chandeliers hung from the ceilings, casting a warm glow over the polished wood paneling and plush carpets. The hallways were lined with elegant art deco fixtures, indicating the ship's grandeur.

Passengers moved about, some dressed in fine evening wear, others in more casual attire, all contributing to the lively atmosphere of the ship.

As they neared the crew quarters, the ambiance shifted. The corridors became narrower and more utilitarian, the decorations giving way to practical design.

The walls here were plain, the lighting stark, and the floors were bare metal, designed for efficiency rather than comfort. The hum of the ship's engines was more pronounced, making it slightly uncomfortable.

James turned to Ethan, his expression serious and his voice low. "Stay close and be ready. We're about to stir the hornet's nest. These Hydra blokes are sly, but they're not invincible. We'll catch 'em with their pants down if we're smart about it."

Ethan nodded, his eyes glinting with the blue flames of his determination. "Alright."

They moved into the crew quarters, where the lighting was stark and unadorned, casting long shadows that Ethan expertly used to his advantage.

He melted into the darkness, becoming a silent wraith, while James strolled in confidently, his attire making him go unnoticed. The crew members they passed looked slightly weary but focused.

But any of them could be the enemy.

As they navigated the narrow hallways and functional spaces of the crew quarters, James's eyes were sharp, his instincts honed from years of experience. "First thing we do is find out who doesn't belong here. Hydra likes to slip in unnoticed, but anybody leaves a trail if you know where to look."

Ethan nodded, then asked, "And if we find them?"

James's grin was grim, his eyes flashing with determination. "Then we send them straight to hell, mate. No second chances."

Ethan's flames flared brighter for a moment, "Agreed. Let's get to work."

With that, they plunged deeper into the heart of the RMS Queen Mary.

As they advanced, James's sharp gaze caught the subtle signs of potential subterfuge. He stopped suddenly, pointing to a crew member whose name tag was slightly askew, as if it had been recently adjusted.

The collar of their white jacket was slightly rumpled, and the gold braid on their sleeve was slightly frayed, a tiny detail that seemed out of place among the crew's otherwise immaculate attire.

Ethan glanced over, his blue flames flickering. "Got it. What's the plan?"

James's expression was steely. "We follow him. If he's Hydra, he'll lead us to the others. If not, we apologize and move on."

They shadowed the suspect, moving with practiced ease. The crew member turned a corner, heading into a dimly lit storage area. James and Ethan exchanged a glance, then slipped inside after him, their movements silent and deliberate.

Inside, the suspect was rummaging through a crate, clearly nervous. James stepped forward, his voice a low growl. "Oi, what's in the crate, mate?"

The crew member jumped, spinning around. "Just… supplies. For the kitchen.", he said as he leaned back on the crate, his hands low.

Ethan emerged from the shadows, the eye slits on his mask shrinking as he said, "Supplies, eh? Let's see."

The crew member's eyes widened in surprise at the sight of the newly emerged figure clad in black.

Meanwhile, James moved forward, his tone hardening at the man. "Step aside, chum. Let's have a gander at those 'supplies'."

Instead of complying, the crew member hastily put his arm in the crate and pulled out a silenced pistol and aimed it at James.

But by then, Ethan had vanished into the shadows. In an instant, he reappeared behind the man, his gloved hand clamping over the man's mouth and prying it open, preventing him from biting down on a cyanide capsule hidden in his teeth.

While his other hand caught the man's wrist and lifted it up, causing a shot to go off at the metal ceiling.

In the next moment, Ethan disarmed him by twisting his wrist and breaking his arm in the process. The man's muffled screams were stifled by Ethan's grip.

James moved in close, his voice a harsh whisper. "Listen here, mate. You're gonna tell us everything, or I'll let my friend here continue his handiwork. Understood?"

The man's eyes were wide with pain, his breathing ragged, but he remained defiant. As he stared into James's eyes, James understood that breaking the spy wouldn't be easy. He glanced at Ethan. "Keep holdin' him. I'll make sure we're not interrupted."

James looked around and outside the storage room, ensuring no one else was nearby. Seeing nobody, he closed the door of the storage room and turned on the lights, making the spy squint to adapt to the sudden brightness. He then took out a stick of gum, unwrapped it, and flicked it into his mouth. "Fancy a chew?" he asked Ethan, who declined with a slight shake of his head.

James turned to the spy. "How about you, mate? Want one?" The spy remained silent, his eyes full of defiance. James smirked. "Here, take it," he said, before punching the spy hard in the gut.

The spy nearly keeled over but couldn't because of Ethan holding him from behind. His breath escaped his open mouth, now dripping with saliva due to being pried open for so long. Ethan, without a moment's hesitation, broke the spy's other arm. Tears welled up in the man's eyes from the uncontainable pain. He wanted to scream but couldn't, Ethan's hand firmly stuffing his mouth.

James crouched down to the spy's eye level, his voice icy. "You're gonna spill, mate. You can either talk now and save yourself a world of hurt, or we can keep goin'. Your choice."

The spy's eyes flickered with desperation, but he still resisted. James's eyes narrowed as he continued, his tone unwavering. "Look, Hydra's done for. You lot are just speed bumps on the road to victory. Make it easy on yourself. Where are the others?"

The spy managed a muffled, defiant grunt, his eyes filled with stubborn resolve.

James sighed, pulling out another stick of gum and offering it to Ethan with a wry smile. "Sure you don't want one? Good for the nerves."

Ethan shook his head again, his grip on the spy unwavering as he said in a serious voice, "Let's get this over with."

James nodded, putting the gum back in his pocket and turning his attention back to the spy. "Alright, have it your way." He leaned in close, his voice barely above a whisper. "We've got all night, mate. And my friend here? He's not known for his patience."

The spy's eyes darted frantically, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. The pain and fear were beginning to break through his resolve. James watched closely, waiting for the telltale signs of a crumbling will.

Ethan leaned in, his skeletal grin hidden behind the mask but evident in his tone. "Last chance. Tell us where the others are, and this ends now."

He released his aura slightly, ensuring it didn't reach James but enveloped the spy. The effect was immediate; the man trembled, a chill shooting up his spine as if death itself loomed over him.

The fear he felt was so primal that it clouded his mind, wasting away the methods to fight it engraved in his mind from years of training. It was like an instinct that couldn't be overcome.

Finally, his resistance cracked, his eyes filling with resignation and fear. He mumbled something incoherent through Ethan's hand.

James nodded to Ethan, who eased his grip just enough for the spy to speak, as he reeled in his aura.

The spy spoke quickly, stumbling over his words, the after effects of the aura evident in his voice. "I don't know much… there are four more… I don't even know their faces. We boarded at different times."

James's eyes narrowed. "How do you communicate then? Can't just be whispers and winks."

The spy swallowed hard. "We use a communicator. We can't initiate conversation, only respond. The leader starts it… a woman, I think. Her voice sounds like one."

James's gaze sharpened. "And what's the plan? What's the target?"

The spy's eyes darted nervously. "Just a few minutes ago, we were notified to get weapons from the cache. The others will be coming here soon."

James looked at Ethan, his expression grim. "We've got company coming. Right, mate. We'll deal with this lot as they arrive."

James turned towards the spy, his gaze icy, "Any other details you're keepin' from us?"

The spy shook his head vehemently. "I swear, that's all I know. Just… don't kill me."

James's voice turned cold. "That depends on how useful you stay. Mate, secure him. We'll set a trap for the others."

Ethan nodded, his blue flames flickering with intensity as he rendered the spy unconscious again. With swift, efficient movements, he tied the man up securely.

James glanced around the dimly lit storage area. "Right, we'll use this place as our hunting ground. When they come for the weapons, we'll be ready."

Ethan's voice was calm but firm. "Agreed. We should hide and wait."

James moved to a shadowy corner, his eyes never leaving the door. "Let's make sure none of these blighters get past us. Remember mate, we need at least one of them alive to get more intel. Ready?"

Ethan nodded, his hands clasping the handle of a dagger. "Ready."

They settled into their positions and the room filled with a tense silence. Time passed slowly, each second stretching out as they waited for the arrival of the Hydra agents.

The ship's faint creaks and the distant hum of the engines were the only sounds that accompanied their vigil.

Soon, footsteps echoed down the corridor, growing louder with each passing moment. Ethan and James exchanged a glance, the hunt was about to begin.

Ch-25: Crimson Eyes

The sound of footsteps grew nearer, reverberating through the narrow corridor and into the storage room where James and Ethan lay in wait. They exchanged a brief nod, muscles tensed in anticipation. The door opened with a metallic creak, revealing a shadowy figure that stepped inside in the backdrop of the faint light from outside.

In a heartbeat, they pounced.

Ethan's dagger moved towards the base of the intruder's skull with lethal precision. But suddenly, a powerful punch connected with his chest, sending him flying backward. He collided with the metal wall, the impact rattling through him before he crumpled to the floor.

---

A notification floated up in his vision, and Ethan understood that most of the damage was absorbed and dissipated by his suit. Unfortunately, Union Jack wasn't so lucky. James lay on the ground, struggling to catch his breath.

Ethan's vision focused on the figure now standing menacingly in the doorway.

Although the room was dimly lit, Ethan could see the man with the clarity of daylight. He was tall, about 6'2", with short hair. His attire was unmistakably rich: a finely tailored wool suit, complete with a crisp white shirt and silk tie, a coat draped elegantly over his shoulders, and polished leather shoes that glinted faintly in the low light.

Something felt off about the man, an aura of strange familiarity emanated from him.

'Of course he feels off,' Ethan mentally berated himself. 'He just threw you across the room with a punch. Get it together, idiot.'

The figure turned to look at him, and Ethan saw the man's piercing red eyes sparkling with malice. In that instant, Ethan knew exactly what he was dealing with and why he felt that strange familiarity.

Vampires were a creature of darkness, in most fantasy tales, they and skeletons belonged to the same category, Undead. Although almost always, vampires were higher on the tier list.

But that didn't matter to Ethan and instead of fear, he felt a surge of excitement. This creature was something he had only seen in TVs and movies, and now it was real. The prospect of defeating such a formidable foe thrilled him to his core.

James, still gasping for air, managed to push himself up slightly, his eyes darting between Ethan and the sinister figure. "Bloody hell… what are we dealing with here?" he wheezed, trying to regain his composure.

Ethan's skeletal grin was hidden behind his mask, but his voice conveyed his eagerness. "A vampire, if I had to guess. And not just any vampire, a powerful one."

The vampire's lips curled into a cruel smile. "You're not as foolish as you look. But it won't save you."

Ethan pushed himself to his feet, his blue flames flickering with renewed vigor. "We'll see about that."

Ethan's flames flickered brighter as he stepped forward. James, still recovering from the unexpected blow, staggered to his feet, drawing his revolver and dagger with a determined glare.

The vampire watched them with a predatory smirk, his red eyes gleaming with malevolent amusement.

"You're out of your league, mortals," the vampire hissed, his voice dripping with condescension. "But I'll enjoy tearing you apart nonetheless."

Without warning, the vampire moved with blinding speed, closing the distance between them in a heartbeat. Ethan barely had time to react as the vampire's clawed hand lashed out, aiming for his throat.

{Shadow Meld}

Ethan dodged by disappearing into the shadows and reappearing behind the vampire. Although this time, he had changed the dagger with a short sword. His line of thought was clear: vampires can't be killed by normal weapons, they can only be killed by silver, a stake through the heart, or sunlight. But they can be incapacitated, especially if their body parts are cut off.

With that thought, Ethan swung the sword, his {HEMA} skills coming into play as he executed an unterhau, intending to take off the vampire's entire arm from the shoulder with the upward swing.

Unfortunately, the vampire was faster, dodging the attack with a supernatural reflex, feeling the instinctive threat. "What the- What was that? Are you one of those?" The vampire's voice held a note of surprise, his red eyes narrowing at Ethan.

Meanwhile, James, having regained his balance, fired a shot at the vampire's head. The bullet struck true, but the creature barely flinched, the wound healing almost instantly. Then it turned to look at James, its mouth open in a snarl, showing its fangs.

"Bloody hell, what's it gonna take to bring this bloke down?" James muttered, frustration creeping into his voice.

The vampire rushed forward, a blur, picking James up by his neck and throwing him across the room once more. But James twisted in mid-air, landing on his feet with a growl of determination.

Seeing the opportunity, Ethan pounced once again, melding into the shadows and appearing in the vampire's blind spot. He slashed again, the blade of his short sword aimed with precision.

This time, the results were different. The blade slashed open the back of the vampire, tearing through its clothes and flesh. A frustrated growl left the vampire's throat as he twisted around and slashed at his attacker.

James, not wasting a moment, surged forward, his revolver and dagger in hand. He fired shots while closing the distance, each bullet slowing the vampire just enough for Ethan to attack again.

Ethan moved like a wraith, his short sword flashing as he struck. They alternated their assaults, ensuring that whenever the vampire focused on one of them, the other would rain down attacks.

Despite its supernatural speed and strength, the vampire began to slow under the relentless onslaught. Its movements became sluggish, the cumulative damage taking its toll. Desperation flickered in its red eyes, and it turned its gaze towards the tied-up spy.

Understanding the vampire's intention, Ethan and James shared a glance. The vampire was aiming to feed and heal. James raised his revolver to shoot the spy dead-knowing that vampires couldn't feed on the dead according to accounts he had heard from stories-but found his revolver empty. Reloading would take too long.

Ethan remained calm, his mind calculating. He threw a throwing knife, its blade gleaming with the use of {Sharpen}, aiming for the spy. But the vampire, sensing the threat, actively jumped in the way. The knife hit him and dug in deep, nearly exiting the other side before its momentum died.

The vampire screeched in pain but didn't waver from its objective. It lunged at the spy, sinking its fangs into his neck and draining him dry in seconds. As the spy's life ebbed away, the vampire's wounds began to heal.

In those precious moments, James reloaded his revolver, and Ethan retrieved an old wooden spear from his inventory and broke it into the size of a dagger.

It seemed like hoarding loot did have its benefits.

Through all this, James was focused on the vampire, not knowing that Ethan now had a way of killing the vampire.

With the spy drained, the vampire turned back to face Ethan and James, his strength renewed.

But this time, things were different.

James fired shots at the vampire, and it dodged them with ease as it dashed toward him. In an instant, James was a foot higher in the air, hanging by his throat, held by the vampire's iron grip.

This was the moment Ethan had been waiting for. He aimed the stake toward the vampire's heart and used {Dash}.

Ethan's surroundings blurred as he took a step forward, focusing on his target. In the blink of an eye, he was behind the vampire, the stake having pierced through its heart.

Weakness dawned on the vampire, and it stumbled forward, its grip weakening and James dropped to his feet, gasping for breath.

The vampire fell to the ground, its body starting to decompose. It turned its head toward them, a sinister smile spreading across its decaying face.

"There… are others… on this ship," it rasped, its voice filled with malice. "I… am not the only one. You… will definitely die…" It let out a weak laugh, then dissolved into a skeleton.

[You killed a Level 5 Vampire. You gained 10,000 Exp.]

[You have Leveled Up. 10 stat points obtained.]

Ethan looked gleefully at the notifications. It seemed like killing vampires was a good way to farm Exp.

James wiped the sweat from his brow, looking at Ethan with a mix of relief and determination. "That was bloody close. Good work, mate. But we can't let our guard down now. If a single vampire was this hard to kill, what happens if a group of them emerge?"

Ethan nodded, "Agreed. We need to get out of here and dump these corpses overboard before others come here. Also, we have made a lot of noise already, I think we need to lay low for the night."

James looked around, ensuring no one else was approaching. "Right. Let's get to it. We don't need any more surprises tonight."

They moved quickly, dragging the decomposed vampire and the drained spy to a secluded part of the ship. The night was cold and the sea dark as they heaved the bodies overboard, watching them disappear into the depths.

James turned to Ethan, his expression grim. "This isn't over, mate. We've got more work ahead. But for now, we've bought ourselves some time. Let's use it wisely."

Ethan nodded, his voice steady. "Yeah, let's retreat to our quarters and plan for tomorrow."

James gave Ethan a brief nod, his eyes reflecting a newfound respect. "You saved my hide back there. Couldn't have done it without you."

Ethan's masked face remained impassive, but inside, he felt a surge of satisfaction. "Thanks. And your experience helped us gather the much needed information. I guess we make a good team."

James chuckled softly. "Aye, that we do. Never thought I'd be saying that to a bloke in a black spandex, but here we are."

As they walked back through the ship's dimly lit corridors, the thrum of the engines a constant backdrop, James glanced at Ethan. "So, how'd you come by your abilities? Must've been quite the tale."

Ethan's voice was measured. "Let's just say it was a long, painful journey. Not something I like to talk about."

James accepted the explanation with a nod. "Fair enough. We all have our secrets. But whatever it is, it works. Let's just hope it keeps working."

Ethan smirked under his mask. "It will. Now, about these Hydra spies. We know they're here, but finding them is another matter."

James's face grew serious. "Aye, Hydra's like a bloody snake, slippery and dangerous. We need to root them out before they can strike. And that vampire… if he's with Hydra, it complicates things even more."

Ethan nodded. "The vampire's presence suggests Hydra might be delving into supernatural means. We need to be ready for anything."

James rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Supernatural, eh? Well, we know the usual tricks to deal with vamps. Any thoughts on how to handle our bloodsucking friend?"

Ethan leaned in, his voice low. "Silver cutlery. The ship's kitchen must have some. We can fashion makeshift weapons from it."

James's eyes lit up with approval. "Good thinking. A silver fork in the heart should slow the bugger down. But let's not forget the classics-crosses and garlic. Never hurts to cover all bases."

Ethan allowed himself a small smile. "Looks like a few things are about to go missing from the ship's kitchen."

James chuckled, the sound rough and determined. "Aye, the chef might not be happy, but better a few missing utensils than a ship full of dead passengers. We'll need to move quickly and quietly. Gather what we need and then lay low until we have a plan."

Ethan agreed, his mind already working through the details. "I'll handle the silver. You can manage the garlic and crosses. We meet back here in an hour."

James clapped a hand on Ethan's shoulder. "Right. Let's get to it."

---

A/N:

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Ch-26: Staking through the ship

After parting ways with James, Ethan decided to sneak back to the room where they had defeated the vampire and check on the crate they had left behind in the heat of the battle.

Before reaching it, he paused in a secluded corridor and accessed his Status Panel.

He allocated all his newly acquired points to agility, making it reach 30. The surge of power coursed through him, making him elated at his progress.

Ethan grinned inwardly, That was good. Still, I need to take some time and check how my stats translate to real life.

Satisfied with his upgrade, Ethan resumed his path to the storage room. Using {Dash] and {Shadow Meld}, he reached the room in less than a minute. His enhanced agility allowed him to move with even more speed and precision, slipping through the ship's dim corridors like a wraith.

He paused at the door, using {Shadow Sense} to scan the area. It seemed like nobody was there yet. 'Perhaps the sound was muffled due to the room being closed during the fight, and the place is quite secluded too,' he thought.

Looking around once more to ensure the coast was clear, he entered the room and quickly made his way to the crate. The signs of battle were minimal, except for a bullet hole in the ceiling and the lingering smell of burnt ash from the vampire's demise.

Ethan knelt beside the crate, carefully moving aside the protective material covering the goods. His eyes widened as he found stacks of dynamite with timers attached to them, along with wires connecting them.

It seemed these explosives had been smuggled aboard the ship for an upcoming sabotage. "Hydra's handiwork, no doubt," he muttered under his breath.

Without wasting any time, he made the crate disappear into his inventory, the dynamite safely stored away from those who intended to use it. And perhaps it could be useful to himself in the future.

Ethan moved just as quickly out of the room as he had entered.

Once he was back in the corridor, he took a moment to recalibrate his senses, ensuring that no one had followed him.

He decided to make his way to the kitchen to collect the necessary materials for the upcoming fight. The RMS Queen Mary's kitchen was a bustling hub of activity, with chefs in crisp white uniforms moving efficiently between stainless steel counters and towering shelves stocked with ingredients.

Gleaming utensils hung in neat rows, reflecting the bright overhead lights.

Ethan moved silently through the kitchen, jumping in and out of the shadows as his eyes scanned for his target. After a few moments, he found the stash of silver cutlery.

He swiftly gathered a selection of knives and forks, pocketing them for future use. Satisfied, he slipped out as unnoticed as he had entered.

Meanwhile, James had his own preparations to make. Navigating the labyrinthine corridors of the ship, he made his way to the chapel, a small but beautifully adorned space with stained glass windows depicting serene religious scenes.

He took a cross from the altar, a symbol of faith and a weapon against the supernatural threat they faced.

Next, he visited the pantry, where he found a supply of garlic, an age-old repellent against vampires. He stuffed a few cloves into his pockets, feeling more prepared for the night ahead.

With their tasks complete, the two retreated to their first-class quarters.

[Ethan's POV]

When Ethan reached his quarters, he noticed a folded note resting on the small mahogany side table by the door.

Unfolding it, he read the simple message: 'Food Delivery. Please contact us if you need anything.'

'I guess they came to deliver food when I wasn't here,' he thought, tucking the note into his pocket.

He stepped into the room, his flames widening at the sight of the lavish accommodations.

It was the first time in his life that he was traveling first-class, and the experience was nothing short of spectacular. Rich mahogany furnishings exuded an air of timeless elegance, while the plush carpets underfoot were so thick they seemed to swallow his steps in silence.

Windows framed a stunning view of the moonlit ocean, the silver moonlight dancing on the gentle waves outside.

Ethan sat on the edge of the sumptuous bed as he took off [Slime, taking a moment to absorb the opulence before focusing on the task at hand.

From his inventory, he summoned the broken wooden spear and using his dagger, he expertly separated it into four 12-inch pieces.

Over the next hour, he meticulously sharpened each piece, whittling them down to deadly points. By the time he was finished, he had four stakes ready to pierce the heart of any vampire that crossed his path.

Next, he retrieved the silver cutlery from his inventory, inspecting each piece closely. The "925" stamp on the handles confirmed that they were made of sterling silver, an alloy consisting of 92.5% silver and 7.5% other metals. 'Perfect for killing any bloodsucker John Wick style,' he thought with a grim smile.

Ethan spread the cutlery out on the table, contemplating how best to utilize them in combat. While sterling silver was durable, it was not inherently designed to be weaponized.

However, with some ingenuity, he believed he could transform these dining utensils into effective tools for battle.

He considered the properties of sterling silver. It was relatively soft compared to steel, meaning it could be shaped and sharpened, though the process would be labor-intensive.

Picking up his steel dagger he began shaving and scraping the edges of the silver forks and knives, gradually creating sharper points. And using the pommel of the dagger, he pummeled them into required shapes.

It was painstaking work, requiring patience and precision, but he persisted, knowing how important it was to have reliable weapons, especially after his earlier encounter.

Hours later, with the silver cutlery sharpened and straightened, Ethan turned his attention back to the wooden stakes.

He embedded the sharpened silver pieces deeply into the tips of the stakes, ensuring that only the lethal silver edges were exposed.

This way, the stakes retained their structural integrity while gaining the added advantage of silver, capable of delivering a fatal blow to any vampire.

Finally, as the makeshift weapons lay completed before him, Ethan allowed himself a rare moment of satisfaction.

Despite his condition rendering sleep unnecessary, Ethan wanted to enjoy the little things in life, especially the first-class experience of traveling in a cruise ship.

He stretched out on the luxurious bed, the soft linens rubbing against his hard bones.

As he closed his eyes, he felt a sense of preparedness and determination and he allowed himself to drift into a light, restful sleep, sinking in the plush mattress.

[The next morning]

Ethan was roused by a soft knock on the door. He sat up straight when he heard a whisper through the door.

"It's me, James. Open up, mate."

Ethan cautiously approached the door, peeking through the peephole. Seeing James in a formal suit, he relaxed and opened the door after equipping [Slime].

"James," Ethan greeted, stepping aside to let him in, as he noted James's attire.

He wore a tailored suit, the kind that blended seamlessly with the affluent passengers of the RMS Queen Mary. His jacket was dark, with subtle pinstripes, and his tie was neatly knotted. He looked every bit the part of a gentleman on a luxury cruise.

James entered, his expression serious. "We've got work to do, mate. There's two things to take care of, Hydra spies and vampires, all mixed up in a bloody mess. We need to split our efforts to cover more ground."

Ethan nodded, fully alert. "Agreed. What's the plan?"

James took a seat, his eyes thoughtful. "I'll blend in with the crowd, keep an eye out for those Hydra blighters. They'll be minglin' with the passengers and the crew, trying to stay inconspicuous. But vampires-they won't be out in the sun. Likely hidin' away in some dark, secluded spot."

Ethan's eyes glinted with understanding. "So, I'll search for the vampires. My suit isn't exactly designed for blending in with a crowd anyway."

"Right," James said, a small smile playing on his lips. "You've got the stealth to search those spots without drawing attention."

Ethan's resolve hardened. "I know. I'll be ready."

James stood, straightening his suit jacket. "Right, then! Let's get to it! We'll meet back here in a few hours to compare notes. And remember, mate: keep your wits about you, or you'll be the one gettin' staked!"

---

Ethan moved through the shadows on the ship, scanning parts of it using his {Shadow Sense}. His objective was to find vampires hiding in the darkness, taking an uncaring nap.

The massive ship, with its snaking corridors and multiple rooms, provided ample space for any vampire to hide. He was grateful for his {Shadow Sense}; 'Without this ability, I'd be wandering aimlessly, hoping to stumble upon these bloodsuckers by sheer luck,' he thought to himself.

Still, even with the skill, the task wasn't easy. It took a few hours before Ethan felt a presence that was hidden and sleeping, its chest expanding and contracting in a weird rhythm as it breathed.

Ethan moved, his steps silent as the night due to his [Slime] suit and his inherent ability of stealth after evolving into a Shadow Skeleton. His form blended seamlessly with the dim light, slipping through the ship's labyrinthine corridors with ease.

He approached the hidden vampire, a pale male nestled in a dark corner behind some crates. Retrieving his silver-integrated wooden stake, he jabbed it into the vampire's heart.

The creature's eyes snapped open in a moment of shock before it disintegrated into ash. A notification popped up in his vision.

[You killed a Level 2 vampire. You gained 4000 Exp.]

The vampire had left behind his skeleton and clothes, which Ethan transported into his inventory. The skeleton disappeared from the ground and appeared in the inventory with a pixelated skeleton image and a blue background, implying that the item was a rare one.

Not thinking much about it, Ethan moved on, ready to find and hunt others for that sweet, sweet Exp.

---

[6 hours later]

By now, the sun was setting, and Ethan had hunted a grand total of… four vampires.

Although not much, they were successful in earning him another level up. He paused in a quiet corner of the ship to review his progress.

Looking at his stats panel:

[STATUS]

Name: ETHAN BLACKETT

Level: 8 (EXP: 1000/25000)

Health (/R per hour): 230/230 (23)

Mana (/R per hour): 190/190 (19)

STAMINA (/R per min): N/A (N/A)

STR: 19

AGI: 30

END: 23

INT: 19

WIS: 16

DEX: 20

CHA: 11

LUC: 10

…

Ethan decided that it was time he focused on his neglected stats and gained some new skills. With a thought, he allocated his points: one to STR, another to INT, four points to WIS, and the remaining four points to CHA.

As expected, three new notifications floated through his vision…

Last edited: 4 minutes ago

Ch-27: Planning their Demise

[Congratulations for reaching 20 points in STR. You have been granted the skill {Shield Block}.]

[Congratulations for reaching 20 points in INT. You have been granted the skill {Cerebral Dominance}.]

[Congratulations for reaching 20 points in WIS. You have been granted the skill {Discerning Eye}.]

Ethan looked at the notifications and wished to laugh like a diabolical megalomaniac. The happiness of getting new skills and leveling up felt quite good. 'This is quite addicting, even more so than social media and games.'

The ability to see his progression was something he had always liked in games, and now that he had it in real life, it always made him happy to look at it.

With a grin, he opened [Skills] to check the descriptions of the newly obtained skills.

---

[Passive Skills]

{Cerebral Dominance}: Increases INT by 10%. Improves magical control by 10%. Boosts mana regeneration by 5%.

{Discerning Eye}: Increases WIS by 10%. Improves detection of hidden enemies by 10%. Enhances tracking ability by 5%.

[Active Skills]

{Shield Block}: Level 1

Cost: 5 mana

Duration: 5 sec / until an attack is blocked

Cooldown: 1 sec

Block an incoming attack with your shield, absorbing up to 10 damage 2% of STR.

---

Ethan marveled at the new skills. 'Cerebral Dominance,' he thought, already feeling his control over shadows getting better. The mana regeneration in percentage was going to help him forever.

'Having a passive like this at my current level is pretty good, especially with my lack of offensive skills.'

' {Discerning Eye} is perfect for my current mission, making it easier to track and locate hidden enemies. If only I'd added points to WIS earlier, I might have found one more vampire. But no use crying over spilled milk.'

{Shield Block} provided a much-needed defensive measure, allowing him to absorb attacks and buy time to counterattack. With this skill along with {Bone Shield}, {Fortify}, and {Skeleton Repair}, his defense was pretty solid.

'With these powers, I feel like I should have a superhero name for myself. What should I call myself? Captain Batman? Capbat? American Batman?… Batman was an American, you dingus!' Ethan thought amusedly while looking at the blue panel.

Feeling the newfound power coursing through him, Ethan couldn't help but feel a surge of confidence. After all, these upgrades would make a significant difference in his effectiveness and survival, especially in the upcoming fights.

Looking at the stats, Ethan found that INT and WIS had also increased due to the newly obtained passives, both reaching 22.

After checking on his progress, Ethan looked at the setting sun and decided it was time to return to his quarters and wait for Union Jack to come back with new information.

[An Hour Later]

There was a familiar knock on the door, and Ethan, looking through the peephole, saw James standing outside. Before he opened the door to let him in, he donned his [Slime] suit.

After entering, James looked around briefly before speaking. "I found a few more of those Hydra blighters today. Trailed 'em and found out where they're bunking. What about you, mate? How many vamps did you manage to find?"

Ethan smiled sheepishly, then turned to look under the bed as he summoned four of his prepared silver-laced stakes from his inventory under the cover of the bed, hidden from James's sight. Retrieving them, he straightened up and showed the stakes to James.

James raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. "Well, I'll be damned. Look at these. Silver-tipped and sturdy. You've got a knack for makin' things lethal, mate."

Ethan grinned under his mask, "Yeah, managed to take down four of them."

James nodded, his admiration clear. "Four, you say? You've been busy. Good job, mate."

Then, suddenly, thinking of something, he asked, "Do you remember where you killed those vamps?"

Ethan nodded. "Yeah, why?"

James reached into his coat pocket and brought out a folded map. He unfurled it and spread it on the mahogany table in the middle of the room. The blueprint of the ship's structural layout was detailed, showing different locations and pathways.

Before Ethan could ask where he got it, James said, "Snagged it from the Navigation officer's quarter. Wasn't easy, but with a few disguises, I managed."

Ethan noticed that James was sharing slightly more than earlier, meaning his trust in him had increased, albeit slightly. Perhaps it was the result of the charisma stat increasing or perhaps it was natural after saving the man's life twice.

James continued, pointing at the map. "Right, now, let's mark the places where you've staked those vamps. If there's a pattern, it might lead us to their nest or somethin' more important."

Ethan leaned over, studying the map intently. The ship's structural layout was intricate, a complex set of lines and words that indicated rooms, and hidden compartments.

He pointed to the four locations where he had killed the vampires. Each mark was a small, precise dot on the sprawling blueprint.

James looked at the points and then pointed out the quarters of the Hydra agents he had found. "Here, here, and here," he said, tapping the map with a calloused finger.

They both stared at the map in silence for a moment. The points formed a rough perimeter around a section of the ship.

Ethan's eyes narrowed as he traced the lines between the points. "James, look at this," he said, pointing to the area enclosed by the marks. "The vampires' locations form a sort of protective barrier around this section. And the Hydra agents' quarters are spread out around it. It's like they're guarding something."

James frowned, considering Ethan's observation. "You might be onto somethin', mate. That area… Could be somethin' important there. Somethin' they're all keen to protect."

Ethan nodded, a thoughtful look crossing his face. "Exactly. It's too much of a coincidence. Whatever they're guarding, it must be significant. Maybe it's a hidden stash of weapons, some critical intelligence, or even a high-ranking Hydra or vampire leader."

James's expression turned grim. "If that's the case, we need to investigate tonight. We can't let 'em keep whatever it is. Too dangerous. We'll need to be extra cautious. If they're guardin' it, they won't give it up easy."

Ethan agreed, feeling excited. "Right. We go in quietly, take out any guards, and find out what's so important. But we need a plan. We can't go in unprepared."

James nodded, respect clear in his eyes. "Agreed. We move in a few hours. Till then, let's study the blueprint, see if there's a way to slip in unnoticed."

Ethan smiled under his mask, "Good idea, let's get ready then."

---

In the dark corridors of the massive ship, two figures moved quietly, their footsteps silent on the steel floors. Ethan and James had studied the ship's map extensively, memorizing the labyrinthine passages and hidden routes that would allow them to reach their destination undetected.

Now, they navigated one of these hidden paths, intent on reaching the quarters of one of the Hydra spies.

In the few hours they had, a simple yet effective plan had taken shape. They would dismantle the perimeter, taking out their targets one by one, and then advance to the center.

This way, they minimized the risk of being surrounded if an alarm was raised, and could leverage their numbers to ensure a two-on-one advantage against any Hydra agents or vampires they encountered.

They also reasoned that if there were other vampires on board, they might be lurking in this parameter of rooms and hidden spaces.

As they moved forward, the air grew cooler, the dim lighting casting eerie shadows on the walls. After a few more minutes, they reached the first room.

James stepped forward, his knuckles rapping against the door with practiced ease. "Room service," he called, his voice a model of politeness and authority.

A muffled response came from within, and a moment later, the door swung open, revealing a man of average build.

"About time," the man grumbled, as he opened the door.

His eyes were sharp, and his posture was stiff, betraying a readiness for confrontation. He wore a tailored suit, but there was something off about him, something that set Ethan's instincts on edge.

Ethan didn't waste a moment. As the door opened wider, he slipped into the shadows using {Shadow Meld}. In a heartbeat, he reappeared behind the spy, his movements silent as the night.

Meanwhile, James moved with a sudden, explosive speed. His fist connected with the spy's jaw, the force of the punch sending the man reeling. The door closed behind them with a soft click, cutting off any escape.

The spy, taken completely by surprise, crumpled to the floor, unable to even let out a scream. James grabbed him by the collar and hauled him to his feet.

"What are you hiding on this ship?" James demanded, his voice low and menacing. "What are you guarding?"

The spy's eyes widened in terror, pupils dilating until they were nearly black. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his body trembled visibly. His fear was palpable, the reaction of someone who knew the consequences of speaking out.

James noticed something unusual on the spy's neck. Holding him by the collar, he spotted two small, slightly healed puncture marks, about two inches apart. He eased the collar aside to get a better look.

Ethan, observing from the shadows, leaned in. "Looks like he's been bitten. Maybe the vampires have hypnotized him to keep quiet," he suggested, his voice a whisper in the tense silence.

Before they could press further, the spy's hand darted to his belt, pulling out a dagger with a flash of steel. In a desperate move, he thrust the blade towards James's belly. The attack was swift, leaving no time for a full defense.

The dagger's point reached James, penetrating his clothes, but it stopped abruptly with a dull thuk.

With a snarl, James twisted the dagger from the man's grip and flung it aside and then headbutted him. He tightened his hold on the spy, lifting him off the ground effortlessly. "Right, sunshine," James growled, his accent thickening with intensity. "You're gonna spill every last drop of information you've got, or I'll make sure you regret the day you signed up with Hydra."

The spy's fear was now mixed with the agony of his broken nose. Blood trickled down his face, staining his collar. Still, his body language screamed defiance. His silence, however, spoke volumes, suggesting he wouldn't talk even if faced with death.

Ethan sighed, before he spoke. "It's no use, James. He won't talk. We'll have to stick to the plan. But first, we need to deal with this one before we proceed."

James's eyes turned grim, a hard resolve setting in. He nodded and reached for his dagger, the steel glinting in the dim light. "Right, then. Let's finish this."

Ethan put a hand on his arm, stopping him. "Leave it to me," he said, his voice sounding cold and determined. "I have a personal vendetta against these Hydra scum."

Before they could move, the spy, regaining some of his senses, lashed out in a desperate attempt to fight back. But Ethan was faster. He caught the spy's hands effortlessly, twisting until a sickening crack echoed through the room. The spy's face contorted in pain, a strangled cry escaping his lips.

James stepped back, a grim look on his face. "Fair enough, mate. Do it your way."

Ethan moved swiftly, his dagger a blur as he plunged it into the spy's skull, the strike precise to avoid a messy scene. The man's body went limp instantly. A notification blinked in Ethan's vision.

[You killed a Level 7 Human. You gained 490 Exp.]

Together, they moved efficiently, dragging the body to a porthole. They removed the communicator from the spy's body before unceremoniously tossing the corpse into the dark waters below. The splash was barely audible over the ship's ambient noise.

With the first spy dealt with, they pressed on, their mission clear in their minds. Moving methodically through the ship's outer perimeter, they took out four more spies in less than half an hour. Each time, Ethan executed the kill with ruthless efficiency, and James collected the communicators.

Ethan's {Shadow Sense} scanned continuously, but he detected no vampires in the outer ring, confirming their theory that the undead were likely hiding deeper within the ship.

The outer perimeter was clear. Now, it was time to move inward, where the vampires might still lurk, even after their daytime cleanup.

"Ready for the next round?" Ethan asked, his voice low but steady behind the mask.

James tightened his grip on his weapon, a fierce glint in his eyes. "Always, mate. Let's give those bloodsuckers a proper send-off."

---

A/N: Btw, just for your info. The Evolution paths aren't fixed once saved, they can be changed in the future. Once MC thinks more about it, and as his knowledge grows.