Steven continued to struggle against the thin rope that strangled the life out of him. He kicked erratically, swaying as much as his weakening body allowed, fingers clawing desperately at his own neck, nails digging into his skin as he tried to get a grip on the rope. But the more he struggled, the more the cursed thing burrowed deeper, sliding cruelly into his throat and cutting off what little air he had leftin his lungs.

In the next moment His breathing quickly devolved into hoarse groans, as his eyes shot blood-red from the strain. Spots danced in his vision, and a terrifying clarity struck him like a hammer.

He was truly going to die... Hanged like an animal.

However, by some twisted miracle, the rope suspending him in the air suddenly snapped under the strain of his erratic movements. Steven’s body plummeting downward, crashing back-first onto the hard, wet bricks of the floor with a sickening thud that jolted his entire being.

"Gaarhh!" he groaned, coughing violently as he struggled to breathe. His chest rose and fell in frantic, uneven heaves as air burned its way back into his lungs. His eyes darted wildly, unfocused at first, before refocusing as it landed on the rope that coiled tightly around his neck.

"Damned shit!" Panicking, he wrapped his trembling hands around it and pulled with all the strength he had left, tearing it loose before flinging it away in raw resentment.

He sat up abruptly, clutching his bloodied neck, the skin raw and torn, as a horrifying thought surfaced within him... The cannibalistic man was still alive and he would be coming to finish the job.

Steven spun around sharply, his heart hammering as he prepared for what came next with Clenched fists, but instead of another attack, he froze.

The man was nowhere near him.

Rather, the hunched figure sat at the opposite side of the cage, his head tucked tightly between his tighs, arms wrapped around his neck as though trying to disappear, like a beast hiding from a greater predator.

Steven continued to gasp, lingering for a moment before tearing his gaze slowly from the man, to scan around the cage frantically searching for other monsters lurked in the shadows with him aside from the hunched man. His gaze swept through the dimly lit corners, every crevice, every dark edge of stone.

Apparently, all of them were empty. It was a cage meant for just two prisoners.

Prisoner?

Steven’s breathing gradually steadied with the rush of adrenaline that slowly ebbed away, his thoughts finally beginning to organize themselves.

’What the hell is this?’ he asked himself.

He raised his frail, bone-like arms in front of his face, staring at them in disbelief. They looked rather strange as they had no flesh at all... though they did. Only that the skin clung tightly to his none bone, highly malnourished, with veins faintly visible beneath the surface.

Panic surged through him at this discovery.

Steven hurriedly grabbed his ragged clothes and lifted them in haste, dread pooling in his stomach as he his gaze met with his body. His mouth fell open at the sight before him. His gut was so shrunken in, it sloped inward unnaturally, like a hollowed cavity rather than a stomach. His ribs jutted out sharply, no different from the rest of him, as though he possessed no flesh at all.

"Who the hell is this monster?" Steven muttered bitterly.

Irritation mixed with horror in his demeanor as he ran his fingers across his face, the last deciding factor of his gate....

No, not my face, My skull.

His lips desiccated felt cracked and dry, eyes sat deep within their sockets like dark, sunken caves, his cheek bones visible. Making him wonder if he was really human or skeleton.

Surely, there wasn’t much difference between him and the malnourished man who had tried to eat him.

’Come to think of it, why did he even try eating me in the first place? I don’t even have that much meat on me either,’ Steven thought, his demeanor sinking further into despair.

Another cruel stroke of callous luck from the Cursed Mark.

Growing up, Steven had heard countless stories of how people entered the Realm of Entry; becoming avatars, completing tasks, returning stronger. Even if most of those stories were fabricated nonsense, one thing was certain.

None of them started like this.

"Fucking cursed Realm!"

Why, in all of hell, did he appear hanged to death, trapped inside a body so malnourished that he wasn’t even sure food existed in this version of the realm?

"Even slaves have more privileges than this shitty body," he complained throwing a fist into the air in anger.

Shaking his head, he tore his attention away from the cell and focused inward, concentrating on summoning his system.

{Welcome to the Fated Colosseum}

{Name: Rat... No surname}

{Identity: Prisoner}

{Memory: Ready to integrate}

Steven frowned deeply at the notification.

First of all—Rat? What sort of twisted name was that supposed to be?

But considering how frail the body was, Steven could only assume this person had been an orphan. Probably named "Rat" as an insult by the high-class scum in society. Someone who stole scraps to survive and eventually got caught, thrown into this cell to rot until death claimed him.

Well unfortunately he didn’t die.

Steven pushed himself to his feet and began pacing the cage slowly, trying to assess his surroundings more carefully. The bricks were uneven and ancient, worn down by time and neglect. The bars were rusted, bent in places meaning there were usually struggles here or so and also the fact that this place was old... Really old.

But what confused him the most were the puddles scattered across the ground. There was no sign of leakage from the stone ceiling above, no cracks and certainly no dripping water.

Yet, every few steps, his feet splashed into shallow pools of cold liquid.

Who really knew what they were?

He shrugged uneasily and moved to the opposite side of the cage, lowering himself against the bars. Keeping his eyes locked on the skinny man, he decided to sink back into his system.

’Show me stats,’ he commanded silently.

{Race: Marked}

{System: Limitless Undead System}

{Talent: Gain x5 upgrade from every undead slain. Copy skills from the dead and make them yours.}

{Physique: 5/20}

{Mana: 10/10}

{Skills Copied: None}

Sponsored:

Dimension Shop

Astral Chat

Steven’s eyes widened slightly as he reread the notification a few times till he was satisfied, scanning through them again and again until he was certain he hadn’t misunderstood the information.

Physique of five, that didn’t sound bad, so he was not sure how much to consider this. Mana being full was a small comfort. But the true shock lay in the Talent.

"To copy and increase a skill by five times its original strength..." he whispered.

The words ignited a feeling of Excitement and hope in his heart letting it linger for a moment before quickly suppressing it, knowing better than to celebrate too early.

Still, the condition to stealing an ability was quite was troublesome; to steal a skill, the target had to be dead, which meant killing them.

Steven frowned.

Once again, his mundane luck struck hard. Despite the power being incredible, killing someone, especially an awakened individual wouldn’t be easy. Nor was it something he could take lightly.

Also the stronger the person the stronger the ability, so that meant if he wanted to get really strong abilities he needed to fight far stronger foes. Maybe even ones much stronger than he was.

He sighed painfully and willed the system for more information. A new notification bloomed before his eyes.

{Talent: Limitless Undead System}

*Description: User may steal only one skill from any enemy they have killed. Skill selection is decided by the user. However, the time of death affects whether the skill can still be copied.

*Note: The number of skills the user may copy is limitless. Every copied skill is upgraded five-fold upon acquisition.

Steven sighed slowly, Intriguing, but not quite thrilling for the young Marked.

’Every organism wants to live. Only by choice would someone accept an easy death. To copy something truly powerful, I’d have to kill someone powerful... what a hassle.’

"Rat... y—you came back to life."

Steven’s bloodshot glare snapped away from the system and locked onto the malnourished beast of a man now crouched in the middle of the cell.

Up close, the sight disgusted him even further as he saw the man nearly causing him to gag but he restrained himself fearing if he tried to vomit, he might actually spill his guts onto the floor.

So he simply watched, his demeanor filled with cold resentment.

"You promised me... you..." the man stuttered, his hands running weakly along his lap. "You promised me I could eat you when you died... I waited... I confirmed it..."

Steven felt dread creep up his spine once again at the man’s crude words.

’Oh no... don’t tell me—’

"Can I—"

"No! You can’t eat me!" Steven shouted, his voice hoarse and warped cutting the old geezer off before he could finish.

The old man shrank back immediately, retreating into himself. Then, slowly, his lips curled upward into a strange, unmistakable smile that sent a chill through Steven’s bones.

’Why is he smiling?’ Steven wondered.

The smile lingered for a moment letting the surreal atmosphere stick to the air, then his grin twisted into soft chuckling, revealing abnormally green, decayed teeth.

"You should have just died, you wretched Rat," the man rasped. "Truly pitiful."

Steven’s brows knitted together in confusion and anger. Pitiful? How was he rather pitiful to have survived? He questioned, Why should he rather die than live?

Unfortunately, The realm answered him almost instantly.

A loud metallic sound echoing throughout the vicinity, followed by heavy footsteps reverberating through the corridor beyond the cell. Steven turned toward the sound, dread pooling in his gut instinctively.

Vile Metallic boots colliding against the floor, with each step sending a chill crawling up his spine.

He glanced back at the old man, and froze at what he saw.

The man was once again cowering in the corner of the cage, shaking violently... No, Terrified.

A loud clang struck the bars, jolting Steven back around, and then he saw them.

Two men clad in royal armor, full-body plating polished and imposing. Their faces visible beneath their helmets, twisting into mischievous glares filled with callous intent as they met Steven’s eyes.

This clearly spelt trouble.

One of them wasted no time in shoving a key into the lock of the cage’s door, twisting it repeatedly until two sharp clicks echoed through the cell. He kicked the door open with brute force the hinges screeching as it swung wide.

The first guard grinned and spoke, his voice filled with mockery. "Come on, brat. It’s time for you to entertain us in the Colosseum."

Steven’s heart plummeted jaws tightening as he whispered the word, "Colosseum?"