NOVEL NEXT Chapter 11: Thirty-one Days Later
One Month Later.
Dane had been hospitalised, though he had healed faster than expected.
His recovery was meant to take three weeks, yet within a mere seven days, they had already reinstalled his missing limb.
And the panel healed his internal injuries.
Advanced medical technology made limb regeneration possible, though the process remained slow.
A healer or reverser could have accomplished the task in mere hours, but Seekers with such a Special Sense were exceedingly rare.
This world was highly advanced, achieving in a mere century what should have taken six in his previous world.
'Damn it. Another bloody week to go…'
Dane scowled, reclining on the glass-like bed.
His gaze was fixed on the holographic glass wall, facing sideways.
Beyond it, the city unfolded in seamless motion—transport lines weaving through the skyline, cube-like flying cars gliding along their designated paths in perfect synchrony.
Towering skyscrapers of sleek, futuristic design pierced the artificial sky.
This was the real world.
Now he was free from his misery.
An artificial sun, suspended beneath the vast expanse of the Large Country Dome, cast its unwavering light over the Kingdom.
The city was fortified by colossal defensive citadels, each armed with turbo laser cannons and protected by the Knights— some elite warriors drawn from the few Seekers willing to defend the Kingdom.
Beyond the walls lay the Shores, a realm of darkness and madness, where nature had long since fallen and reason had no dominion.
The Kingdom itself sprawled across an immeasurable expanse, its population was little.
More than 900 Seekers and 17,000 Imperial Knights stood as its last line of defence.
Despite being fully healed within a week, Dane was still confined to his bed for a month and a week.
The hospital he remained in was the largest and most advanced in Neil Kingdom.
His medical expenses were, of course, covered by Soul Academy—the most prestigious Seeker training institution in the land.
The Academy's board had taken a keen interest in him.
He was the sole survivor of the latest First Night Shift, an event now regarded as one of the deadliest ever recorded.
What they did not realise was that he was already at the Top-Level.
Their power-scaling tool stubbornly placed him at Fang-Wrought rank.
It was a believable assessment, fitting well with his miraculous survival.
However, the global news had spread like wildfire.
A newly emerged Seeker, below the age of seventeen, had ascended to a remarkable level of power after enduring his first Night Shift.
More significantly, he had been the only survivor.
Invitations poured in from prestigious academies across the Kingdom, each one desperate to claim him.
They offered exclusive privileges, wealth, and power.
Yet, Dane accepted only one—Soul Academy's.
Its reputation spoke for itself.
Seeker academies had no age restrictions.
A forty-year-old could undergo their First Night Shift and still be eligible to enrol.
Upon graduation, Seekers could align with any faction or become a Knight, dedicating their strength to the city's defence.
Factions, however, had no range limitations.
Their members hunted beyond the Kingdom's gates, venturing into the Shores to face horrors unimaginable.
Though lucrative, it was not without risk.
For many, the real wealth lay in Night Shifts.
Dane smirked.
Here, he was known as Vorden. The name still felt foreign, but he was adjusting.
Academy officials visited frequently, monitoring his condition.
It was unnecessary—he was fine.
Once his stay ended, he would be granted a week of freedom in the city before formally joining Soul Academy.
The game's protagonist was the son of the Academy's Head.
A noble figure in public.
Kind. Compassionate.
Especially to the weak.
Behind closed doors, however, was another matter entirely.
Vorden rose from the bed, his bare feet meeting the holographic floor.
With each step, his footprint pulsed blue before fading, leaving no trace as he crossed the expansive medical suite.
As he neared the bathroom, the door responded instantly, dispersing like fragmented glass before reforming behind him.
The bathroom was sleek, almost unnervingly pristine.
The walls were seamless, a smooth silver-grey alloy that shifted in texture at a mere thought.
A single tap of a palm would adjust the lighting, temperature, or even the scent of the room.
The floor, translucent and cool, illuminated beneath his steps.
Beneath the surface, faint streams of water-like energy pulsed, adjusting to his presence.
To his left, a gravity-shower hovered above a recess in the ground.
It required no pipes, just a seamless downpour of purified water, temperature-controlled to perfection.
Next to it, a cleansing pod—capable of sterilising the body in seconds without the need for water at all.
The sink extended from the wall as he approached, a deep metallic basin that adjusted its height automatically.
No visible taps.
Water simply obeyed commands.
The toilet?
A compact, near-invisible construct that only appeared when needed.
Waste was molecularly disintegrated, not stored.
Minimalist. Advanced. Designed for efficiency.
He stepped towards the mirror.
Previously dormant, it flickered to life as he drew near, displaying his reflection.
The ninth time he had seen this face.
And still, it was striking.
White hair, thick and untamed, swept back at the crown yet left loose in uneven layers.
A sharp contrast to his deep blue eyes—clear, piercing, with a near-glacial intensity.
High cheekbones. A defined jawline. Features cut with the precision of a sculptor's blade.
His skin was flawless, neither too pale nor too tanned, an effect of his bloodline's unnatural resilience.
A face built to draw attention.
And he knew it!
He grinned.
Enough to captivate the female lead. His only target.
She was unmatched in beauty and dangerously overpowered, outclassing even the protagonist.
A Lurker.
And completely indifferent to romance.
'I'll figure something out…'
He was still in the medical attire—deep blue, patterned with white streaks, both comfortable and sterile.
He took a quick piss, sighing in relief as he finished, then walked back out into the main room.
Arms folded, he stood before the holographic wall.
Outside, the city pulsed with movement.
Pedestrians passed in shifting streams, some boarding airborne transport-liners, others gliding onto rail systems that wove through the towering skyline.
"Phew…"
Vorden had spent his time here piecing things together.
Of course, he had also been getting used to his first Special Sense — Black Ice, which was at its Third Formation.
This psychopathic character—the one who had chosen to start anew just to gain Special Senses and exploit the panel—was also heir to a hidden fortune.
The secret grandson of the late David, a Top-Level Seeker and, once, the wealthiest man in the Kingdom.
Vorden's bloodline was one of monsters. Top-Level and Lurker-ranked Seekers, every single one.
Weakness did not exist in his lineage.
He had siblings.
A younger brother and sister.
Both enrolled in a lesser-known Seeker academy, feigning mediocrity while hiding their true power.
His brother wielded a Chainsaw Attribute that allowed him to transform into a Chainsaw Man—a nightmare incarnate.
His path was hidden.
His sister?
A Water Demon Attribute. A living conduit to the darkest creatures of the sea and the ocean's will itself.
Both overpowered.
Both unknown threats.
And then there was the final, unavoidable truth.
One that had been lurking.
Waiting. Very annoying little bitch.
"Daddy Vorden! You're up!"
'Fuck.'