Chương 3: Assassin’s Awakening

Luke jumped without seeing the bottom. Cold clamped around his stomach like an iron hand, squeezing his guts as open-air vertigo took over. He kept himself straight, legs down, arms tight at his sides, betting his life on the answer to a riddle he barely believed in. No choice now. The fall lasted only a few seconds, but every heartbeat stretched time until it nearly snapped. Then he hit the water. The impact swallowed him whole. Pain detonated through every nerve as the crushing cold ripped the air from his lungs.

Luke tried to swim upward, but the current seized him before he could find his bearings, spinning his body like a rag in a storm. Something cracked. His leg. Pain spiraled upward, brutal and blinding, while survival instinct fought against a body already starting to break. Spinning, sinking, dragged along by the underground river, Luke finally broke the surface for a single instant and dragged in air like a starving man. Long enough to see the truth. No banks. No safety.

Only a narrow tunnel of slick, wet, dark stone, like the throat of some ancient creature. Then the current dragged him under again. The ground vanished beneath him. Ahead, Luke saw the edge of another drop. The water dragged him toward it like an execution. Another waterfall. Another drop. Nothing to grab. His fingers bent the wrong way when he slammed into a submerged rock. Luke tried to scream, but the river stole the sound along with what little strength he had left.

His broken leg hit something sharp, and pain cracked through him like dry branches under a boot. The current did not stop. It dragged him without mercy through hidden bends, every turn promising more pain and delivering. Luke ricocheted off the cave walls. Stone tore his skin. Impacts bloomed bruises across his body. Little by little, he grew heavy. Limp. Too slow. His lungs burned. Every second underwater drove the panic deeper. Luke tried to rise, tried to move his arms, but they no longer answered right.

Blood leaked from his wounds and vanished into the dark water as if it had never existed. Then came another impact. His shoulder crashed into an uneven curve of stone, and a sharp edge opened his side. But the worst part was not the pain. It was the reflex. Luke tried to breathe. The last air left his mouth in silent bubbles. His vision flickered. His body wouldn't obey. His mind was still screaming, but his body had stopped listening. Darkness closed around him. The water pulled. And Luke sank.

When he was seconds from giving up, still sinking, still thrashing weakly against the pull, Luke simply accepted it. Death wasn't coming. It was already there. Then something changed. He fell again. The impact threw him back into the water, his body loose and exhausted. But something was different. Small. Subtle. Crucial. The current was gone. Something inside him sparked back to life. Luke swam upward with everything he had left. His limbs shook. Every movement burned like hell.

Still, he forced his arms to push through the water, forced his lungs to wait just a little longer. He was not finished. Turbulence surrounded him. Whirlpools tried to drag him down. The waterfall above pressed down like a liquid wall, crushing everything beneath it. To escape, Luke had to do the opposite of what instinct demanded. He sank on purpose. He dove deep, slipping beneath the zone where the water crashed down with brutal force. Only then could he rise.

When he broke the surface, he sucked in air like he was stealing his life back.

"Land..." He barely got the word out. Luke swam even as his muscles started to fail. His legs barely responded. Blood ran from the cuts the falls had opened across his body. When he finally reached the rocky edge, he grabbed the stone and dragged himself out. He did not stand. He just lay there, every part of his body throbbing, his vision blurred, the deafening roar of the waterfall filling the entire cavern. If someone found him like this, he would not have the strength to lift a hand.

Luke looked down at himself. The broken leg. The swollen, twisted fingers. The cuts scattered over his body. The blood. The exhaustion. That was when it hit him. He could not keep going. He might never walk again. Around him, the cave stretched out like a tunnel carved through the marrow of the earth. Purple crystals glittered along the walls, casting strange reflections over the wet stone. Luke stared at that light for a few seconds, then closed his eyes.

[You have completed the challenge: The Leap of the Brave] A glowing notification appeared in front of him. The metallic chime cut through the fog in his head. [Reward: 1x Small Healing Potion] Luke blinked, barely believing what he was reading. [An item has been added to your inventory] He frowned. Inventory? How do I— He had no idea how to access it.

[Assassin Class has successfully awakened] [You have acquired a Class Skill: Basic Blade Handling (Common)] Luke closed the notifications almost without reading them, desperate for any hint about the inventory. Two more messages appeared in quick succession. [An item has been added to your inventory] [An item has been added to your inventory] When the last message flashed and vanished, a small square appeared on the interface. Inside it was an image. His face. Luke touched the icon, and a new screen opened.

Name: Luke Level: 0 Race: Human Rank: F Class: Assassin (Lvl 0) Profession: – Titles: – Health Points (HP): 38/100 Mana Points (MP): 70/70 Stamina: 3/60 Stats: Strength: 8 Agility: 10 Endurance: 6 Vitality: 10 Perception: 8 Intelligence: 7 Free Points: 1 Inventory: [Small Healing Potion (x1)], [Throwing Knife Holster], [Smoke Bomb (x3)] Class Skills: [Basic Blade Handling (Common)] Luke ignored most of it. One word mattered: Inventory.

When he touched the potion icon, a small glass vial filled with red liquid appeared in his hand, as if it had always been there, only waiting to be called. He did not hesitate. He brought the vial to his lips and drank. The taste caught him off guard. Sweet. Somewhere between strawberry and a faint hint of raspberry. Not that it mattered. It could've been poison. Could've been a trap. Same difference. He was already basically dead.

The moment the liquid slid down his throat, a burning sensation spread through his body. But it was not ordinary pain. It was something else. The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Healing. It rushed through every wound like liquid fire. Luke's back arched on its own when the real pain began. Deep. Raw. Barely bearable. His bones cracked back into place. His broken fingers moved by themselves, snapping into alignment with dry pops.

In his leg, he felt the bone shift, align, reconnect with absurd precision. Every fracture. Every rupture. Every broken piece of him. All of it was being rebuilt. [Health Points (HP): 38/100 -> 100/100] The health bar rose before his eyes. Luke had no idea how much a "small" potion was supposed to heal, but this one had healed more than enough. He tried to stand, waiting for the pain to return and knock him back down. It did not. Only exhaustion remained. Heavy. Bone-deep.

His muscles felt drained, but no longer broken.

"What the hell did I just fall into?" He looked around. The rocky tunnel stretched in only one direction. Purple crystals pulsed softly along the walls, illuminating patches of moss and roots hanging from the ceiling. The cool mist from the waterfall mixed with the smell of damp earth. No other paths.

"I'm resting. No more flirting with death today." Luke sat on the ground and leaned his back against the cold wall. Now that the adrenaline was fading, the chill cut like a blade. His body trembled, but he was alive. Then he remembered the skill he had received. He touched it. [Basic Blade Handling (Common)]: A true assassin's blade must be quick, lethal, and precise. You now possess basic proficiency with daggers, short swords, and other one-handed light weapons, allowing for more accurate and efficient strikes.

The instant he finished reading, knowledge crashed into him. Luke knew. He knew how to hold a knife properly. How to turn it in the air to improve the cutting angle. How to drive it into the exact point that would kill with the least effort. It felt like he had trained for years, then someone had shoved all of it straight into his head.

"This is insane..." If someone had told him this would happen, he would have laughed. The same way he had laughed the first time he heard stories about people "awakening" with the System. But now there was no denying it. The comparison hit him instantly: The Matrix. That was exactly what it felt like. Like someone had downloaded a skill pack straight into his brain. Just like Neo. Luke touched the next item. [Smoke Bomb]. Three small black spheres materialized in his palm.

[Smoke Bomb (x3)]: A crafted tool that releases a dense smoke cloud when activated, obscuring vision and enabling strategic escapes or stealth attacks. Luke returned two to his inventory and slipped one into his pocket. Just in case. The last item was the holster. He did not even need to move. The equipment appeared on its own, already strapped to his right thigh. [Throwing Knife Holster (Common)]: A specialized holster designed to store throwing knives. It can conjure common-rarity blades when infused with mana.

Enchantments: [Mana Knives (Common)]: By channeling mana, the holster can generate up to 6 throwing knives, instantly materialized and ready for deadly precision. A faint tingle ran through Luke's fingers. The moment he thought of a blade, a knife appeared. Small. Perfectly balanced. Real. He spun it between his fingers with natural ease, as if he had done it a thousand times. The weight was ideal. The center of gravity, flawless.

"So this thing makes knives whenever I need them... as long as I have mana." Luke lifted the weapon under the crystal glow, studying the dull metal and thin blade. Built to kill. Nothing else.

"This is basically magic. If I'd picked Archer, I bet the quiver would work the same way, making arrows with mana." Even now, Luke knew he'd make the same choice again. In the moment, it had been instinct. Now, calmer, he could see the advantages. Mage spells consumed mana and vanished after being cast. An Archer's arrows were probably made of mana too, but once fired, they were gone. And if an enemy got too close, an archer with no room to move was just a corpse waiting to happen. His holster was different.

It made knives. Smaller than swords, sure. Made for throwing. Still lethal up close. And if he needed to, he could simply conjure one and hold it. [Mana Points (MP): 70/70 -> 65/70]"Five mana per knife, huh..." Exhausted, Luke finally allowed himself to rest. He leaned his head against the cold stone and closed his eyes, but he did not let go of the knife. For some reason, his mind stayed sharp. Sharper than usual. Luke slept for a few hours. When he left the tunnel, he finally saw where he was.

The cavern opened up around him. An underground field stretched ahead, swallowed by forest and dark green grass, all of it sickly and half-dead. Purple crystals shone between trees and rocks, casting the only light in the area. There was no enormous artificial sun this time, only the faint, scattered glow of gems embedded throughout the cavern. A cave. An entire biome buried under the earth. And yet, he felt a breeze. Luke did not know where it came from, but the air moved. It was real. Natural. He took a step.

Then he saw it. A huge rat, as big as a grown dog, crept through the grass. Its fur was filthy and matted, its eyes gleaming with pure hostility under the crystal light. The instant it noticed Luke, the creature growled.

"Grrr!" And charged.

"Shit!" Luke raised the knife, heart hammering. Even though he knew how to hold it, even though his body felt faster, sharper, part of him still hesitated. The beast leaped. Luke rolled aside, dodging by a hair. His body moved differently now. Lighter. More efficient. He could control his breathing, shift his weight, read the flow of his own body. He stepped in, close enough to drive the blade into the rat's face. His hand snapped toward the creature's forehead like it had been pulled by a magnet.

But Luke pulled back. He still couldn't bring himself to kill. The rat snarled, twisted around, and whipped its tail into him. Luke was hurled sideways and hit the ground hard, the air knocked out of him. The monster pounced on top of him, fangs bared. Then everything went silent. The world vanished without a sound. Luke could see the rat above him. Feel the creature's weight on his chest. Push against its body with both hands. But no sound reached him. Except one thing. His heart. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

The fear disappeared. Something rose inside him. A thread in the dark, like a hidden line woven through cloth. When Luke touched it with his mind, something ignited. A raw flame. Instinctive. Sharp. Clear. Luke kicked the creature hard, broke free, and rolled backward. The rat staggered. He did not wait. He lunged, the knife spinning between his fingers, and struck. The blade punched through flesh and struck bone. Luke felt the resistance. Then the break. The knife sank deep.

[You have slain Cave Rat - Lvl 2] Luke stood there, breathing hard.

"What... was that?" He stared at his own bloodstained hand. By instinct, he spun the knife and slipped into a combat stance. The creature was dead, but his body still moved like the fight was not over. That was when he understood.

"An assassin's instinct..." The class did that too? He knelt and wiped the blade clean on the dark grass. His hands still trembled. His first kill. The shock of ending a life. But underneath it all, there was peace. An inner silence. For some reason, Luke felt terrifyingly clearheaded. As if, in that instant between life and death, his mind had aligned perfectly with what needed to be done. That thread was still there for one second. Then it disappeared into the darkness of his thoughts. That was... weird.

Luke moved in silence, body low, eyes alert. He crept ahead, studying the space before him. The area was wide and cavernous, poorly lit, with darkness blending into scattered points of light. Farther ahead, he spotted two separate areas, both lit by weak torches. One was too far to risk right now. The other wasn't. Ahead, partly surrounded by crystals and short trees, stood a small stone structure. Circular. With a roof.

It looked like a gazebo, but in that strange underground world, the building looked completely out of place. Luke watched carefully. Inside was a simple wooden table. A chair. But that was not what caught his attention. It was what patrolled around it. Three creatures circled the area. Humanoid lizards. Tall. Nearly his size. Their thick tails dragged through the dirt as they walked with heavy, cautious steps. He slowly backed away and slipped behind a large rock.

He sat there, muscles tight, heart pounding in his chest. Three enemies. He was outmatched. Luke looked around. This place had to be part of the dungeon's depths. Maybe an alternate route. The mission statue had offered two paths: the traditional one, step by step, and the [Path of the Brave], which required jumping into the abyss. He had jumped. He'd chosen the insane route. No going back now. If the key's in there... that's my only shot. Luke peeked again.

The structure looked too important to ignore, and there was a real chance the portal key was inside. It was the only way to climb back up through the dungeon and activate the statue to start the tutorial. He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. Then he brought his hand to the holster and channeled mana. A second blade materialized against his leg. [Mana Points (MP): 65/70 -> 60/70]"I can't waste time here. If I miss the tutorial window, I'm screwed."

And missing the window meant being disqualified from that year's Integration. If that happened, Luke would be trapped in this dungeon for an entire year with the prisoners. He knew what that meant. He wouldn't last.