The two twins finally got off the bus after almost two hours.
They were now in Section D of the Walls.
At first glance, it didn't look all that different from their own section. The same dirty streets. The same rundown buildings. Cracked concrete, peeling paint, and broken windows were everywhere.
But there was one major difference.
People.
Way more people than usual.
They weren't just walking around, either.
They were living there.
Men and women sat against walls, lay under broken awnings, or curled up in doorways. Some had makeshift beds. Others had nothing but the clothes on their backs.
Jordan swallowed.
"They're homeless," he whispered.
"Yeah," Riven replied quietly. "I can see that."
The two walked up to one of the nearby houses. Riven stepped closer and peeked through the window.
"Hey, Riven—get out of there," Jordan warned.
Riven didn't listen.
A moment later, he stepped back and walked over to his brother.
"No one's inside," he said. "The house is completely empty."
They kept walking, not really knowing where they were going—but making sure no one paid too much attention to them. Jordan rubbed his chin, deep in thought.
"I think I've got a good idea of what's going on," he said suddenly.
Riven looked at him. "Yeah?"
"Section D is ruled by gangs. Not just one—multiple rival gangs. They're probably fighting each other more than the guards. Either that, or the guards barely get involved at all."
"What are you trying to say?" Riven asked.
Jordan exhaled.
"Every army needs soldiers. Soldiers need to get paid. Same thing with gangs. The higher-ups have to pay their subordinates if they want control."
Riven's eyes narrowed as he followed the logic.
"But they can't afford to pay taxes and keep paying their people," Jordan continued. "So they had to find another way."
"They took an illegal route," Riven deduced.
Jordan nodded. "Exactly. They probably forced people out of their homes—or charged them just to stay. Protection fees. Steady income."
"Good," Riven said quietly as they reached an empty alley.
Jordan stopped. "Good?"
"Yeah," Riven replied flatly. "Means I don't have to feel sympathy for them."
Jordan reached into his inventory and pulled out a hoodie and a mask. Riven did the same—slipping on a black hoodie and pulling a tiger mask over his face. Jordan chose a gorilla mask, matching his brother's dark clothing.
Without another word, they climbed up the side of a building, heading for higher ground.
Once they reached the rooftop, Riven looked over.
"So now what?" he asked.
Jordan shrugged. "I guess we look around. Think you can jump from building to building?"
Riven stared at him.
"Wait—are you telling me you didn't have a plan for finding gang members?"
He nearly yelled, but stopped himself at the last second.
"That's why we're scouting," Jordan shot back. "Unless you've got a better idea?"
Before Riven could respond—
BOOM.
An explosion went off in the distance.
Both of them ducked instantly.
Another blast followed.
Then another.
"I think that's a good place to start," Riven said with a short chuckle—until more explosions rang out.
The two exchanged uneasy looks.
"Alright," Jordan said. "We stay up here. Keep quiet. I don't know what's happening, but we need to be careful."
Riven nodded.
They began jumping from rooftop to rooftop, store to store, house to house. They moved as quietly as possible. Riven missed a landing once, slipping dangerously close to the edge—but Jordan grabbed him just in time.
"Oh, this is just great," an annoyed voice muttered nearby. "I'm trying to keep you safe from a gang, and you walk straight into a gang war. Fantastic."
The man vanished into thin air.
After two more jumps, the twins finally reached the source of the explosions—and froze.
Below them was pure chaos.
Men and women clashed in the middle of the street. Swords slammed together. Whips wrapped around arms and legs. People brawled openly, fists flying, blood splattering the ground.
"What the hell…" Jordan whispered.
Only one word echoed in his mind.
Chaos.
He glanced at Riven—who was scanning the battlefield intensely.
"Are you looking for someone?" Jordan asked.
Riven shook his head.
"No. Don't you get it? This is perfect."
Jordan frowned.
"People are injured," Riven continued. "We swoop in, knock out one or two, take a piece of their Evolution ability, and get out."
He didn't want to stay any longer than necessary.
Especially after he noticed him.
At the front of the street stood a man wearing a black and gold uniform. Others wore orange and white—or purple and black. Their colors clearly marked their allegiance.
The man in black and gold raised his hand.
Something sparkled in his palm.
Tiny explosions began forming—stacking, building—
"GET DOWN!" Jordan yelled.
He grabbed Riven and slammed them both flat as a massive explosion erupted.
When they looked back up, bodies were scattered across the street. Some were injured.
Some weren't moving at all.
A house that once stood nearby was completely gone—erased.
Riven swallowed hard.
"Let's… avoid him."
"Good idea," Jordan replied.
Riven looked around at the scattered bodies littering the ground after the explosion, activating his Lock-On skill. The problem was that he could only use it on one person at a time. That left him no choice but to go through them one by one—or two at a time, thanks to Jordan also using Lock-On to check abilities alongside him.
What unsettled the boys most was the fact that many of the people caught in the battlefield hadn't evolved at all. They were just normal civilians. More explosions echoed in the distance, but the brothers forced themselves to ignore it, focusing instead on scanning people through the skill.
[SYSTEM: Lock-On skill has leveled up.]
[You can now view two targets' stats simultaneously.]
Riven exhaled quietly. Good timing.
With so many people around, the upgrade made things far more efficient. He nudged Jordan and pointed toward a man with a lightning-based Evolution—similar to Jordan's. Then he gestured toward another individual nearby who possessed a water ability.
Jordan nodded.
The two climbed down from the building and circled around to the opposite side of the street, moving carefully and staying out of sight. When they reached their targets, they grabbed the two unconscious bodies and dragged them into a nearby alley.
At least, they assumed no one noticed.
"Are they idiots?" a man in a white-and-red uniform muttered.
"God, I want to protect them, but they make it so difficult—especially with the Alto Gang showing up soon. I really wonder how they plan to get themselves out of this… or if I'm going to have to step in." He sighed, then frowned. "And how did that man even get a weapon like that?"
He paused.
"Oh?" The man chuckled as he noticed someone walking toward the alley the boys had just disappeared into—someone who had clearly seen everything they did.
Inside the alley, Riven and Jordan lined the unconscious bodies up against the wall. As Riven focused on one of the men, his eyes narrowed.
A familiar system message appeared.
[SYSTEM: Enemy defeated.]
[This enemy possesses a compatible core.]
[Would you like to absorb it?]
Riven said yes instantly when the prompt appeared, asking whether he wanted to take one-quarter, one-half, or the entire core.
He was ready to take one-quarter.
"Riven."
Jordan stopped him before he could make a choice.
"Really—and I mean really—think about this," Jordan said. "Think about the number of people he dragged out of their homes. The number of kids who are probably living on the streets right now. Mothers. Fathers. All because of his gang. Think about it, Riven."
Riven knew exactly what Jordan was trying to do.
Jordan wanted him to take everything.
No matter how weak or strong the man was, taking the entire core would give Riven a significant boost. And when Riven thought about it—really thought about it—he imagined his own parents. If they hadn't been in Section A, if they'd been stuck in Section C… or worse, Section D…
The same fate could have easily happened to them.
So Riven made a choice.
One that, if people knew what he was doing, they would probably encourage.
He took the man's entire core.
Blue light erupted from the body, flowing into Riven—far brighter and more vibrant than the last time he absorbed a core. The glow lasted longer, too. Before, it had taken only a couple of minutes.
Now?
It kept going.
Jordan frowned. Something felt wrong.
When he turned around, he saw a man standing nearby—his eyelids half-closed, skin pale and gray, nothing like its original color. He wore a black-and-gold uniform, unmistakably marking him as a gang member.
Jordan pulled out his pipe, gripping it tightly.
The man suddenly launched himself forward.
Jordan reacted instantly, swinging the pipe and smashing it into the man's face. The impact forced him back—but he charged again, moving like a feral animal.
Jordan twisted his body, his movements fluid, almost elegant. He let his stance shift, his balance flowing like a spinning current of water. The man slipped past him.
When the attacker turned to strike again, Jordan brought the pipe down—hard enough to knock him out, but not so hard as to cause serious damage.
The man collapsed to the ground.
Unconscious.
"What the hell?"
The voice echoed from behind them.
Jordan and Riven turned.
A tall, lanky man stood there, peach-colored hair falling loosely around his face. He was almost as skinny as Joey had been when they first met him—but what stood out most was his purple-and-black uniform.
Another gang member.
"So you managed to defeat him, huh?" the man said, smiling. "You must be strong. How about you join my little army?"
Jordan frowned, confused.
Riven felt the same—until he used Lock On.
⸻
[System]
Name: canin Racher
Ability: Necromancy
⸻
Riven's stomach twisted violently.
He remembered the way the man had fought—like a possessed beast. Reckless. Addicted. Like something else had been forcing his body to move.
Riven slowly approached the unconscious man on the ground.
Then he smelled it.
Rot.
Decay.
"You killed him," Riven whispered.
"What?" Jordan asked, barely hearing him.
"You killed him," Riven repeated—but his eyes weren't on Jordan.
They were locked on Nick.
Jordan swallowed and activated Lock On as well.
When he saw the ability… his gaze snapped back to the body he'd just fought.
"Oh god…"
Riven clamped a hand over his mouth, but it was too much. The smell overwhelmed him. He staggered away before dropping to his knees, retching.
This was the first time he'd ever been this close to death.
Real death.
It made him sick to his core.
"How could you kill a man?" Jordan demanded.
Nick just laughed.
"Judging by the fact you don't have uniforms—and the fact you care so much—you must be related to him. Or maybe you're part of the Iron Gang."
He pointed at the Man on the ground, chuckling.
"Next time, tell your friend to be careful about which side he picks."
Riven had never liked gangs or people who hurt others just for money.
But this—this was different.
What this man was doing went far beyond crime. Killing someone simply because they were on the "other side," because they wore different colors, was already sick enough. But what truly twisted Riven's stomach—what made something claw and writhe inside him—was what the man did after the kill.
He brought the body back.
Not to save it.
Not to honor it.
But to enslave it.
That feeling in Riven's gut grew sharper, like something scratching at the inside of his chest, desperate to break free. He didn't know what it was… only that he hated it.
"It's your instincts."
A voice echoed inside his head.
It wasn't his own.
It was foreign. Rough. Gritting its words like teeth grinding together.
"Your instincts are telling you to kill the man in front of you. And you should listen."
Riven shook his head violently.
"No," he muttered. "That's not real. It's just in my head."
"But you have to," the voice urged, growing more urgent.
"For your safety. And for your brother's."
That—that snapped something.
Riven's breath hitched, his hands clenching as the voice pressed harder, sensing his hesitation.
"Do you really think someone who murders people and raises their corpses as slaves won't kill you?"
"He confessed right in front of you."
"Do you honestly believe he'll let you walk away alive?"
Riven's jaw tightened.
"This is the real world, Riven," the voice hissed.
"Kill… or be killed."
"Make your decision."
Then the voice faded.
Silence rushed in, heavy and suffocating.
Riven straightened slowly and looked toward the corpse Jordan was standing near. As his eyes lingered on the lifeless body, something clicked. A faint connection—small, but unmistakable—brushed against his senses.
It was like… a whisper.
The terminal display faded from Riven's vision.
"…Fine," he said quietly. "I'll defeat him."
He lifted his head, eyes burning with resolve.
"But I won't kill him."
Killing wasn't his right.
The man hadn't wronged him personally. He hadn't hurt anyone Riven loved. Taking away someone's abilities wasn't mercy—but it wasn't murder either. The man would live.
And that mattered.
Riven stepped forward and tapped Jordan's shoulder.
"Go," he said calmly. "Get the guy's core."
Jordan hesitated for half a second, then nodded and moved away.
Riven placed himself between his brother and the necromancer.
"Tell me something," Riven said. "Why was killing so easy for you?"
He genuinely wanted to understand. Maybe the man had lived a broken life. Maybe this was survival twisted beyond recognition.
The peach-haired man laughed.
A sharp, ugly sound.
"Why?" he repeated, grinning wide. "Because it's fun."
Riven stiffened.
"I don't know what it was," the man continued, eyes gleaming. "But my ability definitely chose me. Every time I see life leave something… it fills me with joy. Watching the light fade—mmm."
The sound he made afterward sent a chill down Riven's spine.
It was disgusting.
Uncomfortable.
Wrong.
"That said," the man shrugged, "I won't kill you. I've got nothing against you."
Riven's gaze flicked to the corpse.
"He does," Riven said quietly.
The man blinked.
"I'll help him find peace," Riven continued. "By fulfilling one of his last wishes."
"One of his wishes?" the necromancer echoed.
"Yes." Riven's voice hardened. "I already denied the other."
The man frowned. "And what was that?"
"To kill you."
Riven inhaled slowly.
"I don't want death on my hands. I don't think I'd ever sleep again if I killed someone. Not a person." His eyes sharpened. "But if it ever comes down to my family… I will cross that line."
His stance lowered.
"Please," he said softly, "don't make tonight the day I have to."
Riven slid into his Beast Gauntlet stance.
He had discovered a flaw in the style—it was designed for claws. Natural weapons. Humans didn't have those.
So he made his own.
Electricity surged through his fingertips, crackling violently as arcs of lightning twisted and shaped themselves.
Sharp.
Solid.
Claws formed from pure lightning extended from his hands.
"After absorbing Crasfer," Riven said calmly, "controlling lightning became easier. Now I can shape it."
The claws hummed with lethal precision.
"I won't kill you," Riven said coldly.
"They want you dead. And maybe you deserve it."
His eyes locked onto the necromancer.
"But I won't be the one who does it."
⸻
[SYSTEM]
Quest Complete: Mitchell Thomas's Last Wish
Objective: Defeat the Dark Mage (Necromancer)
Rewards:
• Item Reward
• Luck Reward
• EXP +250
This was the first time Riven had ever seen a quest with multiple rewards.
And instead of excitement—
He felt focused.
Cold.
Ready.