°~[Initiating inheritance...]~°
A golden cup materialized in his hands. E999 recognized it instantly – the vessel from his encounter with Lucifer. He stared at the deep gold liquid swirling within, uncertainty clouding his features. What am I supposed to do with this? he wondered, his brow furrowing.
°~["Please proceed by consuming the inheritance," the screen instructed, its cold, mechanical voice devoid of inflection.]~°
E999 glanced from the screen to the cup, a flicker of defiance in his eyes. "Oh, come on," he scoffed. "How do you expect me to drink this? Do you want to turn my stomach into a gold bar? And how the hell hasn't it mold yet?"
°~[10 seconds left to instant death," the screen warned, the countdown appearing in bold, red numbers.]~°
For the first time, E999, the Hollow, felt a tremor of fear. He had just arrived in this infernal realm, and now he was being threatened with instant annihilation. He stared at the cup, the countdown ticking down to two. With a grimace, he tipped the cup back and gulped down the golden liquid, bracing himself for the unknown.
Nothing happened.
Or so he thought. The taste was… extraordinary. A symphony of flavors, sweet and intoxicating, danced on his tongue. It was a sensation unlike anything he had ever experienced, a taste of pure, otherworldly bliss.
Then, it hit him.
A crack, like the shattering of glass, echoed within his skull. It multiplied, a cacophony of fractures spreading throughout his body. His face contorted, his skin tightening and stretching, his hair withering into dust. He collapsed to the floor, his body wracked with unimaginable pain. He had no mouth to scream, no voice to express the agony that consumed him. His bones twisted and reformed, his eyes bulging, then bursting, leaving empty sockets. His body shifted and contorted, a grotesque symphony of flesh and bone, morphing from a solid form to a quivering mass of… something.
Then, silence.
A new face emerged from the chaos, eyes forming in the empty sockets, limbs reshaping, skin knitting itself back together. It was a gruesome rebirth, a metamorphosis both terrifying and awe-inspiring.
A yawn broke the silence. E999, or rather, the being that was once E999, opened his eyes. He felt… renewed. His body thrummed with power, a boundless energy coursing through his veins. It was as if he had been reborn, forged anew in the fires of some infernal crucible.
He blinked, his gaze drawn to the screen, where a series of notifications scrolled across the surface.
°~[Congratulations! You have consumed the first fragment of our lord, your father.]~°
°~["Congratulations! A title has been received."]~°
°~[Congratulations! Your body has been cleansed of all impurities.]~°
°~["Congratulations! Tabs have been unlocked."]~°
°~[Congratulations on your first evolution!]~°
°~[Congratulations! You have received some of the traits of your lord.]~°
°~[Welcome, The Emissary of our lord, your father.]~°
bewildered by the barrage of notifications, decided to ignore the screen. He didn't understand how to operate it anyway. Leaving it hovering in front of his face, he headed out to the communal bathing hole designated for his section. As he passed through the cell gate, he noticed he had to duck – a minor detail he dismissed as he continued towards his destination.
The stares of the other gladiators, both male and female, were intense, their eyes wide with a mixture of awe and apprehension. He quickened his pace, wondering what could be the cause of such scrutiny. Reaching the bathing hole, he jumped in and turned on the hose. As he stripped off his rags, he caught sight of his reflection in the water pooling on the floor.
He froze.
His body was no longer the malnourished, scarred husk he remembered. His skin glowed with an unnatural vitality, his blue eyes now a vibrant crimson. His hair, once dull and lifeless, was now a striking combination of red and white. He reached out, his fingers tracing the lines of his newly defined abs, his touch confirming the reality of his transformation. He was… beautiful. More than beautiful. He was breathtaking, his features possessing an ethereal quality that surpassed even the most striking of human females.
Then, he saw them. Tattoos. A series of intricate skull-like patterns adorned his left pec and snaked down his arm to his wrist. A wave of shame washed over him, a strange, unfamiliar emotion. He quickly finished washing, donned his rags, and scurried back towards the cafeteria, his head lowered, his newfound beauty a source of both wonder and confusion.
Foods were served in trays, and everyone was eating, including E999. A frail, blonde guy, around the same age as him, approached with his tray and slid a folded paper towards E999's tray, then left the surrounding area, leaving his food behind.
E999, oblivious to what had just transpired, picked up the paper and read aloud, "Meet me at the females' ward if you survive in the arena." He stared at the note, shrugged, and then took the extra plate of food, attracting the attention of everyone nearby. It was rare for a gladiator to eat twice.
"What a man can't fight in an empty stomach
he muttered .
Gladiators gathered in the arena. Today was a battle. A free-for-all. The last man standing would live another day.
This was the arena where E-ranks fought—or survived. No one knew how the higher ranks battled. But they knew one thing: it was more brutal than before.
Potty looked around. Graham was nowhere to be found. That meant only one thing—he wasn't in the colosseum today. Potty saw his chance. He would finally kill the gladiator he hated with all his soul.
Then, an announcement echoed through the arena.
"A special game of tag! According to your species, you will play. The head of E999 marks the end of the game. Any survivors will return to their cells."
E999 was shocked. The demonic audience roared with joy. He glanced at Potty. The demon grinned.
Before he could react, a dagger flew toward his skull. At the last moment, he turned. The blade grazed his cheek, leaving a deep slash.
He started running. He needed time. His potential was god-level, but right now, he was weak. He ran at an average speed, knowing he couldn't fight them all at once.
Focus, man. Focus. You're a fucking assassin.
Before he could think further, a system notification rang in his head.
°~[DING!]~°
°~[QUEST INITIATED]~°
°~[Kill all gladiators in the arena. (0/6)]~°
°~[PENALTY: Failure leads to death.]~°
°~[REWARD: Unknown.]~°
E999 didn't understand what was happening. But he ignored it. He had to focus. Survival was all that mattered.
He grinned, sensing his advantage. He was much faster than the other gladiators. They were slow, their movements heavy. But he was light, agile.
He moved fast, a blur. Not charging, but weaving, darting. He grabbed loose bones and broken weapons, hurling them with precision. Eyes, tendons—his targets were weak spots. The larger gladiators expected a head-on attack. They were wrong. One screamed, clutching his bleeding eye. Another stumbled, a shard buried in his cheek.
E999 used their confusion. He slipped behind them, a phantom among giants. He found a femur, its jagged end sharp from the arena's brutal past. Silent and swift, he drove it into a gladiator's knee. The man collapsed, screaming.
Five remained, now enraged. They closed in. He couldn't be surrounded. He shoved the fallen gladiator into a charging brute. An axe whooshed past him, missing by inches.
Blood ran down his arms and legs—shallow cuts. He barely felt them. Adrenaline drowned the pain. The battlefield was his weapon. A pile of ribs became a trap. A protruding bone, a point of leverage. He struck vital points: the throat, the belly, the tendons.
He was a storm of deadly strikes. A sharpened rib bone to the neck—one gladiator collapsed, gurgling. A jagged skull shard stabbed into another's throat—blood sprayed the sand.
Three left. They hesitated now, fear creeping in. But he was slowing too. His limbs heavy, his vision blurred. He had to finish this. Fast.
He found a broken gladius, still sharp. He didn't aim to kill immediately—he crippled. A tendon cut, a hamstring severed. He danced between them, a bloody phantom, moving with raw survival instinct.
Pain flared as an axe grazed his side, leaving a deep gash. He ignored it. He twisted with the axe's momentum, driving the gladius deep into a man's chest. The blade sank between ribs.
Two left. They were terrified. Their courage shattered. He was a monster, a ghost made of blood and bone. He lunged. The gladius slashed upward, gutting one gladiator. The man screamed, intestines spilling onto the sand.
The last gladiator tried to run. Too slow. E999 tackled him. The gladius plunged into his throat. A twist. A crunch. Silence.
E999 stood, panting. The arena was a crimson canvas. His body, a bloody testament to survival. He had bathed in their blood, a grim victor in a brutal arena. A frail vessel of death.
°~[DING!]~°
°~[Congratulations!]~°
°~[You outwitted two Level 15 gladiators. +25 EXP]~°
°~[You killed two Level 15 gladiators and a Level 10 gladiator. +50 EXP]~°
°~[You insulted the pride of a Rank One Lesser Demon. +25 EXP]~°
°~[Level Up!]~°
°~[Free Atribute points:5]~°
A rush of energy flowed through E999. His body felt lighter, his pain dulling. He watched as his wounds slowly healed. It was slow, but it was happening. He smiled.
Across the arena, Potty's face twisted in anger. But then, his expression changed. The anger melted into amusement. He clapped, his voice dripping with mockery.
"Congratulations," he said. "But the match has just begun."
With a wicked grin, he raised his hand and signaled the guards. The beast gate creaked. Heavy chains rattled. Something massive stirred behind the iron bars.
Potty clapped again, his eyes gleaming with excitement.
"Let's see if you can survive this."