Pink wolf instantly blurs forward with her 'wolf lunge' ability, appearing right infront of him in an instant, she swipes her claws at his face with the intent to finish him off instantly.
Due to her small stature, she was, very, very quick. In his eyes at least. 'Shit' Immediately jumping back just in time, her claws left a deep wound on his cheeks as blood flows from the wound. Dex immediatly felt a sharp burning sensation traveling through his body as he grits his teeth in frustration.
Yes he knew how to fight and defend himself, hes been in a couple of fights and even hurt alot of peaple as well, but that was IRL. This chick was as fast as a lighting, he couldn't keep up with her. He protects his face with his hands as she keeps slashing at him, leaving ugly claw marks on his arms, meanwhile, his brain keeps thinking fast, of a million ways to make use of his useless trash skills but nothing came to mind. At all. And the fact that the system messages kept popping up made him panick even more. In dreamscape whenever you die, you lose a level.
He didnt want that, and also the fact that every hit caused him real pain also remained. [-2 hp, -5 hp, YOU HAVE BEEN DEALT A CRITICAL HIT. -20 HP]
[HP: 30/100]
The pain was real—every claw slash lit up his nerves like live wires. Dex's vision swam as Pink Wolf circled him, her vibro-claws purring.
"Pathetic," she mused, licking pink plasma off her blades. "Valentina overhyped you."
'She knows Valentina? does she also work for her?' He pondered.
Dex forced his trembling hands into his pockets. 'agony' and smirked. "You're, what, twelve? Shouldn't you be bullying kids on Roblox instead?"
She froze. Confusion flickered across her face.
"I mean, those claws?" He nodded at her arm. "Compensating for height, maybe—"
SCHWING.
Her punch launched him into a pile of scrap metal. [HP: 10/100]
"Ow. Fuck." Dex spat blood, watching his last sliver of health pulse red. "Plan B, then. Spectre! Any fucking time now—" He muttered.
Pink Wolf's boot pressed on his throat. "Plan B?" Her claws whirred. "Let's hear it."
Dex grinned weakly. "Uh… distraction?"
A soda can bounced off her head.
Spectre's voice echoed from the rafters: "That'll be 200 CR, dumbass."
Dex's vision blurred as a black-clad figure dropped between them, kicking up dust.
Spectre glanced down at him, cybernetic eye flickering. "200 CR. Remember that."
"You told me to come here," Dex coughed, wiping blood onto his already ruined jacket.
"I said tomorrow, shit-for-brains." She nudged a glowing soda can toward him with her boot. "Drink." Pink Wolf snarled, her vibro-claws twitching. "Who the hell—?"
She immediately lunges at spectre.
Spectre's fingers danced mid-air, typing on an invisible keyboard. Three seconds later—
"What did you do to my arm?!" Pink Wolf's cybernetic limb went limp, claws retracting with a pathetic whirr.
Spectre ignored her, sizing up Dex as he chugged the soda. [+30 HP].
"Huh," she muttered. "Potential. Skills still useless, though."
Grabbing his collar, she dragged him toward the exit. "Wait—what about the kid?" Dex gestured at Pink Wolf, now furiously kicking a trash can. "Won't you fix her—"
"I'M NOT A KID!" Pink Wolf's scream chased them out of the junkyard.
The streets of Neo-Tokyo Prime pulsed around them, a symphony of flickering holograms and distant hovercar engines. Neon signs painted the rain-slick pavement in streaks of electric blue and poison green, their reflections warping in the oily puddles underfoot. Dex kept pace with Spectre, his boots splashing through the urban runoff as he stole glances at his HUD.
[LEVEL: 3]
The number glared back at him, a mocking reminder of his helplessness. Three levels. Three pathetic upgrades. How was he supposed to stand against the Lucianos when he could barely survive a back-alley brawl?
He exhaled sharply, watching his breath fog in the chill air. "I've been meaning to ask," he said, his voice cutting through the hum of the city. "Why did you help me?"
Spectre didn't slow. Her black combat boots struck the pavement with mechanical precision, the buckles on her jacket clinking softly with each step.
Dex pressed on. "I mean from the very beginning. You don't just swoop in and save some stranger being hunted by the Lucianos. Not unless there's something in it for you." He eyed her profile, searching for a tell. "So what's your angle? You got some kind of history with them?"
For a long moment, Spectre said nothing. The neon glow from a nearby noodle stall washed over her face, highlighting the sharp angles of her cheekbones, the faint scar that traced her jawline. Then, with a sigh that sounded more like a surrender, she finally spoke.
"What if I saved you just because you were cute?"
A smirk played at the corner of her lips as she pushed open the door to the Sky Inn. The lobby was a study in controlled chaos—flickering holoscreens advertised hourly rates, while a bored-looking android clerk buffed its metallic fingers behind the counter. The air smelled like synthetic lavender and stale cigarettes.
Dex followed her inside, rolling his eyes. "Understandable," he deadpanned. "But bullshit." He leaned against the reception desk, ignoring the way his ribs protested the movement. "What's the real reason? You've been tailing me since I logged in. That's not a coincidence."
Spectre tossed a keycard at him. It landed against his chest with a soft tap before he caught it.
For the first time, she hesitated. Her cybernetic eye—a sleek, golden implant that constantly flickered with submenus and data streams—dimmed slightly, as if she'd momentarily shut off its feed. When she spoke again, her voice was quieter, stripped of its usual razor-edge sarcasm.
"Valentina stole something from me," she said. "Something important."
Dex raised an eyebrow. "Credits? Tech?"
Spectre's fingers flexed at her sides, the leather of her gloves creaking. "Something alive."
The words hung between them, heavy with unspoken meaning. Dex felt the hair on the back of his neck rise.
"And me?" he asked slowly. "Where do I fit into this?"
Spectre's smirk returned, but there was no warmth in it. "You're her new favorite chew toy. That makes you leverage."
"Using me as bait?" He inquired.
"Yes." She replies a second later.
The elevator doors slid shut with a hiss, sealing them in neon-lit silence. Dex studied the keycard—scratched, slightly bent—then flicked it against his palm. "To your room, I'm guessing?"
"A gift," Spectre said, smirking as the elevator lurched upward.
"That'll be 400 CR."
"I'd rather sleep in a dumpster," Dex scoffed. The numbers above the door ticked past 2… 3…
A beat. Then, casual as a knife twist: "So what'd she steal? Your dog or something?"
Spectre's gloved hand stilled on the elevator rail. For three agonizing seconds, the only sound was the hum of machinery.
When she finally spoke, her voice was softer, rawer—like she'd ripped the words from somewhere deep:
"My little sister."
Floor 4. The doors opened.
They both walk towards door and a frown immediately appears on Spectres face as she stood infront of the door. "Someones inside...Step back.. "
The door to Room 407 swung open, revealing Valentina Luciano perched on the edge of Spectre's bed like a panther lounging on borrowed territory. Her fingers traced idle patterns in the air, pulling up holographic screens that cast a sickly green glow across her sharp features. She didn't bother looking up as they entered.
"Dex Maldito Morales," she mused, rolling the name like a curse. "Stealing five million from my family and still breathing. Impressive."
Spectre's knife was in her hand before the door finished closing. She lunged—
BZZT.
The blade passed clean through Valentina's throat, scattering pixels. A hologram, flawless in its rendering except for the faint static curling at the edges.
Valentina's laugh was a blade of its own. "Still predictable, Spectre." She flicked her wrist, and Dex's HUD glitched violently:
[WARNING: SKILL LOCK INITIATED]
[REMAINING HP FROZEN AT 32]
"Now," she said, crossing her legs. "Let's negotiate."
Dex forced his voice steady. "You want me dead. Why talk?"
"Because dead thieves don't pay debts." She leaned forward. "Steal something for me, and I'll… delay your execution."
A new hologram bloomed between them: a black-market data chip, pulsing red in a vault under Neo-Tokyo's central tower.
"The Sung-Jin Cartel stole this from us. Bring it back, and I'll pretend I didn't see you for… oh, a week."
Spectre snarled. "That chip's in a level 60 zone. You're sending him to die."
Valentina's grin was all teeth. "Ding ding."
Then—the cruelty shifted. With a tap, the hologram changed: a small figure, curled in a digital cell. A child's face, glitching at the edges.
Spectre's breath hitched.
"Or," Valentina murmured, "bring me the chip, and I'll consider telling you where I buried this code."
Silence.
Dex exhaled. "…Where's the vault?"
Valentina vanished, leaving three words burned into their HUDs:
[TRY THE SEWERS. BRING A GAS MASK.]