NOVEL NEXT Chapter 6: Chapter 6: Nowhere to go
Lukas walked through the endless maze of Zaun's undercity, feet dragging against the cracked stone, his mind a tangled mess of exhaustion, adrenaline, and raw, numbing disbelief.
Everything still felt surreal.
The weight of the blood on his hands lingered like a sickness in his stomach.
He had killed three people.
And the worst part?
It didn't even feel real.
Not yet.
Maybe it was the system numbing him to it. Maybe it was the fact that he hadn't had a single second to process anything before his survival instincts kicked back in.
Or maybe… maybe it was something worse.
Maybe he was already changing.
He exhaled, running a shaky hand through his messy brown hair.
It didn't matter.
Not right now.
Right now, he had a bigger problem.
Where the hell was he supposed to go?
Zaun was a fucking death trap. He was a scrawny orphan with no home, no money, and barely any resources. The moment someone figured out what he did, they'd come looking for him.
He needed to disappear.
Somewhere safe.
Somewhere he could think.
His brain flipped through options, scanning everything he could remember from Arcane—even though he had only half-watched the show while browsing his phone back in his old world.
The Last Drop.
Vander.
The guy had taken in Vi, Powder, Claggor, and Mylo. Maybe—just maybe—he had room for one more.
…But, no.
Lukas shook his head.
Vander wasn't made of money. Sure, he ran the Lanes, but that didn't mean he was rich. The guy was practically struggling to keep his own kids safe, let alone feed a random-ass orphan that came knocking on his door.
If Lukas showed up like some pathetic stray dog, all he'd get was a pat on the head and a plate of food—if that.
He needed security. Stability. Not a handout.
Next option.
Benzo.
The old shopkeeper that ran a little business in Zaun, and more importantly—Ekko lived there.
That was worth considering.
Maybe if he played his cards right, he could get a job there.
…But how the hell was he supposed to just walk in and be like:
"Hey, old man! You looking for a new grandson? I eat very little and only commit mild homicide!"
Yeah, no.
Weird as fuck.
But still, worth keeping in mind.
"Okay, okay, think… think…"
Before anything, he needed to sit down.
Lukas sighed, rubbing his aching forehead.
His body was sore.
His mind was fried.
His fingers still tingled from the plasmid injection.
Before anything else, he needed to sit the fuck down.
---
He found a quiet corner—not completely hidden, but not out in the open either. Just enough to keep him safe without making him a sitting duck.
With a heavy sigh, he slumped against the cold metal wall, letting his head tilt back as he exhaled.
For the first time since he got to this shitty world, he let himself breathe.
His heart was still beating too fast.
His arms still felt heavy.
His ribs still ached from the beating he took.
His brain was screaming at him to sleep, but he couldn't.
Not yet.
He had to think.
What's my next move?
Because one thing was very fucking clear.
He wasn't going to be just another fucked-up orphan in Zaun.
Not anymore.
Not ever again.
Lukas sat there in the dim glow of Zaun's ever-flickering neon lights, his back pressed against the cold metal wall, eyes half-lidded as his body screamed for rest.
But his mind wouldn't let him.
His thoughts kept spinning, looping through the events of the past few hours, over and over again.
He had woken up in a new body.
In a new world.
He had been hunted. Attacked. Beaten.
And he had killed three men.
All of that in just one fucking day.
He let out a dry, humorless chuckle, rubbing his face with both hands.
"Jesus Christ…"
This was his life now.
A street rat in Zaun. A nobody with nothing but a crowbar, a lightning ability, and a system that wanted him to kill.
His fingers twitched slightly, sparks flickering between them.
The Electro Bolt plasmid.
His first real taste of power.
But it had a cost.
Not just in points—in energy.
Lukas exhaled sharply, pulling up the blue screen in front of him.
---
[STATUS]
Health: 85%
EVE: 100%
He swiped through the system, pulling up the store.
---
[STORE]
→ Plasmids
→ Weapons
→ Equipment
He tapped on Plasmids first, just to see his options.
Most were still locked behind absurd price tags.
Winter Blast – LOCKED
Incinerate! – LOCKED
Insect Swarm – LOCKED
No surprises there.
his gaze wandered lower in the store.
And he saw it.
The weapons tab.
He scrolled.
And his eyes widened.
---
[WEAPONS]
Revolver (10 Bullets) – 500 Points
Shotgun (5 Shells) – 1,000 Points
Machine Gun (30 Rounds) – 2,500 Points
---
A gun.
He could actually buy a gun.
For 500 points, he could own a revolver.
His stomach twisted.
A knife was one thing.
A crowbar? A tool.
But a gun?
That was different.
That was commitment.
He hesitated.
Then, he noticed something interesting.
At the bottom of the screen, a small window popped up.
---
[NOTICE: Materials can be used to reduce item cost.]
---
Lukas's eyes narrowed.
So the system would take materials as payment?
If he found scrap metal, broken weapons, or old machinery, he could trade it for a discount?
That was… useful as hell.
He tapped the revolver option again, and a new prompt appeared.
---
[Current Cost: 500 Points]
[Cost with Scrap Metal: 400 Points]
---
So if he found enough junk, he could shave down the price.
His mind raced.
Zaun was littered with scrap. The whole fucking city was built on discarded machinery.
If he gathered enough, he could arm himself for free.
That was big.
Lukas let out a slow breath, leaning his head back against the wall.
He had options.
Not good ones, but options.
And for the first time since arriving in this shithole, he felt like he had something resembling control.
His lips curled into a smirk.
"I think I'm starting to get the hang of this."
---
Then he kept scrolling.
And then—
His heart stopped.
Because he saw something insane.
---
BIG DADDY – LOCKED (REQUIREMENT: SYSTEM LVL 10)
---
Lukas's entire body froze.
Wait.
Wait.
WAIT.
THE BIG DADDY WAS IN THIS STORE?!
His pulse spiked.
If he could unlock that—if he could get his own Big Daddy—
He'd be unstoppable.
He tapped on it, and a new requirement screen popped up.
---
[SYSTEM LEVEL: 1]
[NEXT LEVEL: 1000 POINTS REQUIRED]
---
So every 1000 points, he'd level up.
And once he hit level 10…
His grip on the crowbar tightened.
A slow, dangerous grin spread across his lips.
This system was more than just a survival tool.
It was a ladder.
And he would climb it.
Higher than anyone in Zaun. Higher than anyone in Piltover.
Higher than any fucking chem-baron or topsider.
He let out a breathless chuckle, the weight of everything suddenly lighter.
"Hextech? Pfft. Who needs that?"
Piltover thought they were untouchable. That their technology made them gods.
They didn't realize that there was something greater.
Something older.
Something stronger.
A system built not on progress—but on power.
A city lost to time.
His smirk widened.