Kill to evolve: A system that demands blood
Chapter 34: S rank threat.

Chapter 34: S rank threat.

Chapter 34

Ronan stared into the mirror, droplets of water slipping from his jaw as his mind spun with everything the system had just dumped on him.

Level 50. Stage II. Blood evolution.

What did that even mean for him now? Was he still even human? He needed to find out more, maybe...just Maybe that man had the answers he needed.

"System," he whispered again, towel clenched in his hand, "what happens in Stage II?"

Stage II Evolution grants enhanced perception, faster muscle regeneration, and adaptive combat memory. Future traits may include genetic alterations and partial transformation depending on host exposure to higher-tier blood.

"Transformation?" he repeated slowly. "Into what?"

Data insufficient. Adaptation varies per host. Outcome is unpredictable.

Ronan muttered a curse under his breath. Of course. Why give him answers now?

A knock on the door snapped him out of it.

"You done in there or should I call a priest?" Dean’s voice came with a note of sarcasm, but there was tension under it.

Ronan grabbed his shirt and pulled it back on quickly, covering the mark, though it felt like it was burning under the fabric now. "Yeah. Coming out."

He stepped into the hallway and found Dean leaning against the wall, arms crossed.

"Alright," Dean said, pushing off. "Time to talk."

"Talk about what?" Ronan asked, feigning ignorance.

"You know exactly what I’m talking about."

Ronan hesitated. "It’s complicated."

Dean scoffed. "Everything’s complicated with you. You suddenly awakened with a system that granted you superpowers, got a job I don’t fucking know what the hell it’s about, then you vanish for a whole day only to come back looking like you’ve been fighting bears, and now you’ve got some kind of demon-dragon tattoo growing out of your spine."

"I didn’t get it. It... happened."

Dean’s brow lifted. "It happened? Ronan, tattoos don’t just happen. Did someone drug you? Are you in a cult now? Should I be worried for Noah?"

That last part hit a nerve.

Ronan took a step forward, voice low. "Don’t bring Noah into this. He’s safe. Always will be". Why did that hurt? Maybe because he was also afraid, afraid that his system might take over one day and hurt the thing most beloved to him.

Dean didn’t back down. "Then start talking. Because I don’t know what kind of crap you’re mixed up in, but it’s changing you. Physically. Mentally. And don’t tell me it’s that system you awakened because last I remembered, systems doesn’t give extra muscles or freaky tattoos."

Ronan clenched his jaw. Part of him wanted to tell Dean everything, about the missions, the nature of his system, the kills. But how do you explain to your best friend that you’re evolving by spilling blood?

"Dean..." he began, running a hand down his face. "There’s something different about my system. I was kept under surveillance for the same reason. It’s different, other system users aren’t able to use more than one ability, but I can use multiple...and that’s not all...it’s...." Ronan paused... Contemplating wether to continue.

Dean stared at him like he was trying to decide whether to believe him—or call for psychiatric help.

Then he said, "Prove it."

Ronan blinked. "What?"

"Whatever multiple abilities you just mentioned, show me something. Not a tattoo. Not a dramatic monologue. I want to see something real."

Ronan hesitated. Then, slowly, he extended his hand and focused.

At first, nothing.

Then the photo frame on the shelf gave a faint rattle. It twitched once, twice... and then, as if pulled by invisible threads, it lifted smoothly into the air.

Dean’s eyes widened.

With a sudden whoosh, the frame zipped across the room and landed perfectly in Ronan’s outstretched hand.

No stumble. No effort. Like it belonged there.

Veins in Ronan’s arm pulsed with faint, electric-blue light for just a second before fading.

Dean took a step back, staring like he didn’t know whether to call the Avengers or an exorcist. "Dude... what the hell was that?" he had heard about system abilities, but this was the first time he was seeing one in action, which felt weird.

Ronan flexed his fingers around the frame. "Telekinesis. But that’s not all..."

Dean took a cautious step back, eyebrows raised. "What next? Gonna sprout wings?"

"This one might scare you," Ronan said, holding up both hands in a calm, don’t-panic gesture. "But trust me... I won’t hurt you."

"That’s exactly what people say before doing something terrifying."

Ronan smirked faintly, then focused. He slowly lowered one hand, palm aimed toward the ground beneath Dean.

At first, nothing happened.

Then Dean’s knees buckled slightly—his body sagging like someone had thrown a weighted blanket over him. His stance widened as he tried to steady himself.

"Dude... what the hell?" Dean said, voice strained. "Why do I feel like I weigh 500 pounds?"

"Gravity suppression," Ronan said casually. "Localized. I’m just increasing the pressure a bit. You’re not gonna flatten out or anything."

Dean groaned, wobbling. "Yeah, I’m so reassured right now."

Ronan chuckled, then snapped his fingers—and just like that, the weight vanished.

Dean straightened up fast, swaying like he’d just gotten off a rollercoaster. "Bro... friendly demonstration or not, that was deeply uncomfortable."

"But kinda cool, right?"

Dean gave him a long stare. "You’re turning into some kind of sci-fi monster and you want me to rate it on a coolness scale?"

"C’mon," Ronan said, half-grinning. "Like you wouldn’t want to mess with people using that."

Dean opened his mouth to argue... then stopped. "Okay... maybe a little. But seriously, Ronan, this stuff is nuts."

Ronan’s grin faded just a bit. "so, wanna see more?"

Dean was quiet, his gaze fixed on Ronan’s hand like it might explode. "I think I’m fine now....I believe you. So, how does it feel? To have all this abilities to yourself?"

Ronan didn’t have the chance to reply when a sudden sharp pulse jolted through his skull.

Warning: High-value target detected. Level: S rank 0.3 km radius. Threat Level: Critical.

Ronan’s eyes snapped upward. "Can you identify the target?" He wanted to question why the hell the system would inform him of someone who didn’t concern him, but he knew it was nothing new for the system to suddenly pick targets for him to kill.

Target: Subject Harlan Vex. Known for mass civilian experimentation and organ trade. Confirmed kill list: 94.

Dean noticed the change. "What’s going on?"

Ronan’s expression darkened. "Nothing important." He lied... I’ll be back."

Dean blinked. "What, now?"

Ronan didn’t answer. He was already heading for the door.