[Devoured Experiences: 1]
[Feral Instinct: 10%]
[Grants the user the latent instincts, reflexes, and combat behavior of a wild predator.]
[Mastery increases through further consumption.]
’There it is.’
Everything made sense now. He finally knew what had made his instincts so sharp all of a sudden.
This was what he had extracted from devouring the Goreboar.
He had been carrying a single, nagging question around ever since he woke up, and it had nothing to do with his legs moving. It was about the four seconds right after his legs responded.
He remembered crossing the ruined lab and not running across it upright, but staying low and fast.
He had pounced onto the boar’s back like a rabid animal and caved its skull in with a stomp.
Max had never fought like that in his entire life. The idea of throwing himself body-first at a wild beast was completely foreign to him.
’Well, that half-solves my combat problem,’ Max thought, feeling an unnatural, primal heat beneath his skin. It was already coursing through his veins.
He also noted the distinction: these were Experiences, not EXP.
EXP was awarded directly by the System for killing a beast, so it wouldn’t make sense if devouring yielded standard EXP as well.
Memories, on the other hand, would represent the creature’s actual life, whatever fragmented existence a Goreboar had.
But Experiences weren’t intellectual knowledge at all. Experiences were the physical body’s own record of having done something.
It was pure muscle memory, stripped clean out of one creature and installed directly into another.
And at ten percent, it meant the trait stacked. Nothing in the description implied it would degrade over time.
’So the ceiling isn’t on the skill,’ Max realized with a smirk. ’The ceiling is on how much I’ve eaten.’
His gaze drifted down to the bedside table. Resting on a plastic tray was a tube of standard hospital nutrient paste.
It resembled a grey candy bar, engineered to deliver basic caloric survival requirements, but it tasted like wet chalk.
Out of pure spite and curiosity, Max unwrapped it, popped a bite into his mouth, and focused on using Devour.
A brief notification flashed before his eyes.
[Nothing of value obtained.]
"Even the System agrees," Max said out loud, shaking his head.
He dismissed the screen and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He was completely done with this room.
The hospital staff had held him here to monitor his mental state after the incident, not because his body was injured.
His head was fine. In fact, his head was arguably the healthiest it had ever been.
A status panel could tell him he possessed ten percent of a beast’s instinct, but it couldn’t show him what that actually felt like in motion.
There was only one instrument on Earth that measured combat capability, and that was a real fight.
His first step was getting his official Player identification card from the Association.
Max walked into the adjoining bathroom, took a quick, hot shower, and dried off. On the counter lay a fresh set of clothes arranged by the hospital.
It ass a simple, grey light-wear outfit typically issued to government workers. It wasn’t flashy, but he didn’t have much of a choice.
He pulled the clothes on, stepped up to the mirror, and checked his reflection. His distinct white hair was clean, and his eyes carried a bright focus like a predator now.
It was then Max remembered something.
’My glasses!’
They had gotten destroyed during his awakening incident. But surveying the room now, he observed he didn’t really need them anymore.
Another perk of being a Player...
Max flashed a broad grin at his reflection in the mirror, turned on his heel, and walked out the door. Time to get his license.
***
By the time Max stepped out of the academy hospital complex, the sun was already dipping below the horizon.
The evening air felt cool against his face. Streets around the campus were quiet, with most students having already cleared out for the night.
He set his sights on the regional office of the Player Association, located just a few blocks from the main campus gates.
The Player Association was the supreme administrative organ for all awakened individuals across the country.
It handled everything from issuing official Player licenses to managing Gate permits, regulating guild territories, and overseeing the legal sale of harvested monster cores.
It was similar to the national military in a way.
When Max walked through the doors of the main hall, the massive building was nearly deserted.
He approached the front reception, where a sleepy-looking woman glanced up at his hospital-issued outfit.
"Registration for a new Awakening?" she asked with a tired voice.
"Yeah."
She nodded, tapped her screen, and pointed down a wide, brightly lit hallway to her left.
"Room 104. Testing Officer Marcus is still inside finishing paperwork. He’ll get you set up."
Max nodded and walked down the quiet corridor until he reached the door labeled
104: INITIAL VERIFICATION & REGISTRATION.
He knocked once and stepped inside.
Behind a cluttered desk sat an older officer with graying hair and a stern face. He gestured for Max to sit on the metal chair opposite him.
"Full name," Officer Marcus asked after Max took his seat.
"Max 79UG03."
Marcus typed it in, checking the hospital transfer notice.
"Alright, Max. Before we run the core diagnostic, we go through the standard privacy disclaimers. Under USA law, you have the option to keep your public registry profile anonymous or operate under a pen name. Your official Player card will carry your legal ID, but guild searches and public databases won’t reveal your full records unless you explicitly consent or commit a felony."
Max nodded along, though his mind drifted for a moment as he processed the form. He really was lucky to be in America.
In a country like this, the law gave Players an extraordinary amount of personal freedom and legal protection.
Other nations weren’t nearly as forgiving. In North Korea, for instance, awakening was entirely nationalized.
The regime dictated who was permitted to attempt Gate exposure, and anyone who awakened by mistake without state authorization was treated as an unregistered threat; forced into military labor camps or executed on the spot to prevent unpredictable powers from disrupting the government.
Here, at least, a guy could keep his mouth shut and keep his secrets to himself.
"Max? You with me?" Marcus asked and Max nodded.
"Anonymity option."
Marcus wasn’t really surprised. He stood up from his desk and walked over to a heavy door at the back of the room, keying in an access code.
"Follow me into the chamber."
Max followed him inside. The room was empty save for a pedestal standing in the exact center of the floor.
Resting on top of the pedestal was a smooth, translucent glass orb. It was an Earth AI diagnostic node used to register mana signals.
Marcus stepped back and pointed to the pedestal.
"Place your hand on the orb to begin the test."