Kill to evolve: A system that demands blood
Chapter 33: Stage II blood evolution

Chapter 33: Stage II blood evolution

Chapter 33

System initializing response... Please standby...

Ronan’s pace slowed. The night air was cool, brushing past his face as the facility behind him disappeared into the dark. The silence stretched, broken only by the faint crunch of his boots on gravel.

He frowned. "System. That wasn’t a hard question."

Clarifying query: Subject seeks explanation for autonomous lethal defense event. Confirmed.

"Yeah. That." He kept walking, but his shoulders were tense now, his jaw locked as he anxiously waited for whatever response it was gonna come up with.

Action was taken to preserve host consciousness during unstable synchronization. Blood was required. Host vitals at critical threshold. Immediate sacrifice of two viable lifeforms was determined as optimal route to ensure consciousness restoration and continuity.

Ronan stopped.

His breath caught in his throat.

"You needed... blood? To bring me back?"

Affirmative. System requires blood to evolve. To grow. To stabilize host’s neurological link. Consciousness was fading. Death was imminent. Blood of others became catalyst for survival.

He blinked, staring ahead but not really seeing anything. His voice was hoarse. "You’re saying... you used them to save me?" After the fight during the mission z he had passed out for some reason....he suddenly felt completely exhausted, like he had pushed past what his body could handle. And now, the system decided to use the blood of others to bring him back?

Affirmative.

"Goodness..." he whispered, stepping backward. The weight of that truth hit hard.

Host must understand: current evolution protocol is blood-based. With every kill, strength increases. Reflexes enhance. Neural processing accelerates. Lifespan extends. Greater power can be attained with greater sacrifice.

Ronan’s heartbeat spiked again.

"You’re... saying I survive by taking life?"

Correct.

He shook his head slowly, like he could deny it by sheer will. "That’s not how I operate. I was fine with following your orders because you’ve never made me kill an innocent, but this is different."

System understands. Innocence is not a factor. Target acquisition will adapt to host moral alignment if instructed.

Ronan gave a dry laugh. "Great. So you’re telling me you’ll just start picking people I already think deserve to die?"

Clarification: System will prioritize threats, criminals, hostile entities, and targets designated by host’s subconscious risk parameters. The cleaner the conscience, the more efficient the hunt.

He ran a hand through his hair, pacing in a small circle now.

"This is insane..." he muttered. Then, quieter: "Why me?"

...

No reply.

Ronan’s eyes narrowed. "Why me, dammit? Out of all the people in this city... why did you choose me? You should have just let me die back then!"

...

Silence.

Complete and cold.

He clenched his fists. "Don’t go quiet on me now! Answer me, System! What the hell am I?"

No reply.

Only the soft hum of digital static in his head.

Ronan cursed under his breath, rage bubbling at the edge of his voice. "You talk like a damn machine when it suits you, and now you go mute? Typical."

But there was nothing.

No sound. No data. Just a gaping silence inside his mind.

He kicked a rock off the road and turned back toward the path ahead.

"...Fine," he said, jaw tight. "Keep your secrets."

The distant lights of the city were finally coming into view. And somewhere in that city... home awaited, it’d been almost two days since he last returned home, and he was sure he was gonna get scolding from Dean.

His pace picked up, legs moving faster as he sped down the road. Anyone who managed to see him would just think it was lightening the brushes passed them, that’s how fast he had gotten.

Within minutes, he was back home.

Shit, I need to needed to get a car, this is just show off...I wonder if they’ve sent my pay for the last mission.

The house was dark when he got close, too quiet. He immediately concluded that Noah was at Dean’s place, so he headed straight for his house.

He climbed the familiar porch steps and knocked lightly, more out of habit than necessity. After moments of waiting and there was no response, he raised his hand to knock again, but then...the door opened.

Dean stood there, shirt half-buttoned, hair tousled from sleep, eyes narrowing the moment he saw who it was.

"Ronan?" he asked, surprised. Then his expression darkened. "You’ve got some nerve showing up now."

"I know, I know," Ronan muttered, raising a hand. "I was—"

"Busy?" Dean cut in. "Gone for a whole day with no word? Noah was starting to think you ran off."

Ronan winced. "Where is he?" damn that little overthinking brat, why would he run off?

Dean’s frown softened just a bit. "He’s asleep. Knocked out a few hours ago. He missed you as hell, I had to assure him that you would show up eventually."

"Thanks," Ronan said quietly, and for a second the weight on his chest lightened. "For looking after him."

"Always," Dean said, stepping aside to let him in. "But you better start talking. ."

The living room was dimly lit, cozy in a way that Ronan’s own place had never quite managed. As he stepped in, Dean gave him a long once-over, then raised a brow.

"You look different," he muttered. "What, you been working out in the woods or something?"

Ronan huffed a dry laugh. "Something like that."

"No seriously," Dean said, smirking. "You’ve bulked up. Either you hit some god-tier gym or you’re on that superhero serum diet, what the hell is going on in this new job of yours? "

"Cut it out," Ronan said with a shrug, though he avoided eye contact. He wasn’t ready to have that discussion yet.

Dean didn’t press further, but his eyes didn’t stop scanning Ronan like he was a puzzle missing half its pieces.

Ronan broke the silence. "Mind if I use your bathroom?"

Dean motioned down the hall. "Go ahead. You remember where it is."

"Thanks."

Ronan headed down the hall, pulling off his shirt as he walked, he really needed a bath, his body was starting to itch.

He was halfway to the door when he heard Dean behind him...

"Whoa—wait. What the hell is that?"

Ronan turned around, shirt dangling in one hand, confusion clear on his face. "What?"

Dean’s eyes were wide, blinking fast. "Dude. When did you get that?"

"Get what?"

"That tattoo. It covers your entire back."

Ronan froze. His brow furrowed. "It’s... just the snake, right?" he remembered the it being just behind his neck, so what did Dean mean by ’covered his entire back.’

"Snake? Ronan, this thing looks like a freaking serpent-dragon hybrid straight out of mythology."

Ronan turned back around and stepped into the bathroom, flicking on the light. He twisted toward the mirror.

And there it was.

Spanning his entire back, from the nape of his neck down to his waistline, coiled and alive with intricate lines and glowing edges, was a massive tattoo. It was one creature—but not something he’d ever seen in any book or show. The head looked draconic, with long curved horns, fangs bared, and eyes like slits. Its body wound down like a serpent, covered in dark, scale-like patterns that shimmered faintly under the light. The tail curled along his lower back like it was gripping him.

And right at the center, inked over his spine, was a strange circular glyph—like a seal. Faintly pulsing.

Ronan stared at it for a long moment.

He didn’t remember this.

"System..." he whispered. "When did this happen?"

Synchronization marking complete. Stage II of Blood Evolution unlocked. You’ve reached level 50 and your experience points have exceeded 10,000. Stage II blood evolution process has began

"What the hell is stage II Blood Evolution?" he hissed under his breath.

You evolve with blood, by killing. Strength, reflexes, abilities, resistance, lifespan, all increase proportionally. This mark represents current synchronization with the system. It will continue evolving.

Ronan’s pulse quickened. He traced the edges of the mark in the mirror, still half in disbelief.

Dean’s voice drifted from outside the door. "Ronan, what the hell is going on with you, man?"

Ronan turned off the tap and splashed cold water on his face, trying to focus. He couldn’t tell Dean everything.