[Optimization complete.]
[Acquired new trait: "Vitalization."]
[Vitalization: Flesh is not weak. Touch an object, unleash the power of flesh, and control it through vitalization.]
Staring at the result of the optimization, Riku wasn't sure what to make of it.
It didn't solve his "eating" problem or his "sunlight" issue. Should he be disappointed?
But this new trait, "Vitalization," sounded… kind of intriguing.
"Touch an object, unleash the power of flesh, and control it." The description was straightforward enough, but he'd need to test it to understand its real potential.
Riku extended his hand, his subdermal armor retracting to reveal his bare, fleshy palm. He drew his katana.
He wasn't about to experiment on his pricey cyberware—too risky. But this old blade, already due for a replacement, seemed like the perfect guinea pig.
"Flesh Vitalization."
Gripping the katana, Riku activated his new ability.
Under his gaze, the flesh on his hand began to slough off, flowing toward the blade. His hand regenerated instantly, only for more flesh to peel away and merge with the katana, wrapping it entirely in writhing tissue.
"That's it?"
Riku studied the blade. The flesh had stopped moving, suggesting it had absorbed all it needed. The tissue squirmed across the katana's surface, as if consuming it—or fusing with it. It was eerie.
"Kind of slow," Riku noted. The vitalization process was sluggish, probably too slow to be useful mid-combat. Vitalizing an enemy's weapon on the spot? No chance. Nobody's dumb enough to let their gear stay coated in wriggling flesh.
"Let's set it aside for now."
He placed the katana down, letting it continue its creepy transformation, and turned to his daily training.
He didn't forget about his new attribute point either. Without hesitation, he dumped it into Constitution.
"Hm?"
Right after allocating the point, Riku had a flash of insight. The "Vitalization" trait was tied to his Constitution stat. The size of objects he could vitalize and the speed of the process were directly linked to it.
With his Constitution bumped up, he could sense the flesh on the katana wriggling faster now.
Checking the time, he started a timer. About an hour later, the flesh finally stopped moving.
"Done?"
Riku felt a spark of understanding. He picked up the katana, and it was like looking at a completely different weapon.
The blade had transformed. Once a plain, unadorned samurai sword, it now gleamed blood-red, etched with intricate patterns that radiated an unsettling, almost demonic beauty.
Riku twirled the blade, testing its new properties. He could manipulate its shape—sprouting sharp spikes from the blade or extending its length, though only by about twenty centimeters.
Shink!
At his command, the blood-red blade sprouted jagged spikes, and its length stretched slightly.
Swinging it felt natural, like an extension of his own body.
If the blade broke, he could channel more "flesh power" to regenerate it—as long as he was holding it. Subdermal armor blocked the connection, since the ability relied on direct flesh contact.
"Does the quality of the object affect the vitalization's power?" Riku mused, sensing feedback from the ability. A higher-quality blade would gain stronger abilities post-vitalization.
"So, I still need a better katana."
The vitalized blade's quality hadn't improved—it wasn't any sharper. Riku could feel that clearly.
"Too bad it can't be used in daylight."
The downside was obvious: like Riku himself, the vitalized blade was vulnerable to sunlight. It was, after all, an extension of his flesh.
Vitalizing his subdermal armor or cyber-eyes was a non-starter. Sure, they'd retain their durability, fire resistance, EMP shielding, optical camo, and temperature regulation—maybe even gain new abilities. But they'd also inherit his sunlight weakness.
The whole point of his cyberware was to let him function in daylight. Vitalizing it would defeat the purpose. Riku scrapped the idea immediately.
"Guess I'll need two blades now—one normal for daytime, one vitalized for night."
He chuckled. He could barely afford one good katana, and now he needed two?
"Padre, any decent blades for sale on the market? Something budget-friendly."
Thinking of his empty wallet, Riku shot a message to Padre, the all-knowing fixer who dabbled in everything. Maybe he had some secondhand gear.
"Don't be so stingy, Devil. Go buy a new blade. You're about to make bank," Padre replied, his tone teasing.
"Oh? Got a job lined up?" Riku perked up. The only thing that could make him "bank" right now was his interdimensional meat imports.
"Ten kilos of venison, 20,000 eddies. Sound fair?"
As expected, Padre had sold the meat. But the price… 1,000 eddies per kilo? For something you couldn't even find on the market, something only the ultra-elite could afford? Was that really fair?
"No choice. Nobody dares use your meat commercially. Without a brand, it won't fetch a high price, and if they advertise it, they'll get investigated," Padre explained.
"Only a few thrill-seekers are willing to buy, but since the meat's untraceable and lacks safety guarantees, they won't pay more."
Padre knew the price wasn't great, but he'd done his best. Buyers were only willing to go so high.
If it was legit meat hitting the market, he could've sold it for ten or twenty times the price—a status symbol for the elite.
(End of Chapter)