My Werewolf System - JKSManga - E-Book

My Werewolf System E-Book

JKSManga

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Beschreibung

From the creator of My Vampire System comes the action-packed story of a young man struggling to survive—until he learns to unleash the animal within . . . Gary doesn't have all that much going for him. He's a teenage boy who lives in a Tier-3 town that's barely hanging on, and his family's just a rung above dirt poor. Which is why he's taken the very dangerous step of becoming an errand boy for the savage Underdogs gang. He doesn't like what they do, but if he tries to get out, he's pretty sure he'll get very dead. Then, a delivery goes wrong when he's ambushed and injured. Even worse, his "package" somehow gets loose—and into Gary. To his shock, he finds himself the wielder of a Werewolf System. It allows him incredible power, strength, and healing. Unfortunately, when the full moon strikes, he might not be able to control his bloodlust and could wind up hurting somebody he cares about. Now, Gary must somehow explain his sudden "improvement" to his friends while trying to survive a pack of vicious hunters out to eliminate him. Because if he can figure out how to harness his new abilities, he just might make a difference in this town—and the first thing on his to-do list is put the Underdogs underground . . . The first volume of the hit progression-fantasy series—with almost five million views on WebNovel—now available on Audible and wherever ebooks are sold! 

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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

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JKSMANGA

To my wife, Wandong Chen.

After we met, my writing journey began. None of this would have been possible without you buying me a new laptop when we had just met.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without prior written permission from Podium Publishing.

This a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living, dead, or undead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2023 by Kawin Jack Sherwin

Cover design by Podium Publishing

ISBN: 978-1-0394-1794-6

Published in 2023 by Podium Publishing, ULC

www.podiumaudio.com

CONTENTS

Chapter 1 An Obsession

Chapter 2 The Game of Rugby

Chapter 3 The Underdogs

Chapter 4 The System

Chapter 5 What Am I?

Chapter 6 Werewolf

Chapter 7 White Rose

Chapter 8 Fight Back!

Chapter 9 My Heartbeat

Chapter 10 How to Make Money (Part 1)

Chapter 11 How to Make Money (Part 2)

Chapter 12 The Girl of Your Dreams

Chapter 13 The Gym

Chapter 14 Curious Tom

Chapter 15 Top Dog

Chapter 16 Green Fang

Chapter 17 Round 1

Chapter 18 Round 2

Chapter 19 BPM Rising

Chapter 20 He Did What?

Chapter 21 Rabid Dog

Chapter 22 Charging Heart

Chapter 23 The Test

Chapter 24 Red Sick

Chapter 25 The Truth

Chapter 26 A Bond

Chapter 27 Forced Bond

Chapter 28 Eton High

Chapter 29 Surrounded

Chapter 30 Here to Fight!

Chapter 31 Honorable Fight!

Chapter 32 Lover Boy

Chapter 33 Xin’s Skills

Chapter 34 Altered Hunter

Chapter 35 The New World

Chapter 36 A Leader

Chapter 37 Turf War

Chapter 38 The Power of the Moon

Chapter 39 Breaking News

Chapter 40 Omega Wolf

Chapter 41 Omega, Beta, Alpha

Chapter 42 An Unusual Gift

Chapter 43 Crossed the Line!

Chapter 44 A.I.F.

Chapter 45 Boiling Point

Chapter 46 Anger

Chapter 47 Follow the Mist

Chapter 48 Don’t Fight!

Chapter 49 Gray Elephants

Chapter 50 The Letter

Chapter 51 Perfect Time

Chapter 52 Illegal Weapons

Chapter 53 Survive!

Chapter 54 Targeted

Chapter 55 New Skill

Chapter 56 Billy’s Targets

Chapter 57 Get Him Before Me!

Chapter 58 Low on Energy

Chapter 59 First Kill

Chapter 60 The Hunting Target

Chapter 61 A Deal

Chapter 62 Kill Again

Chapter 63 Alternative

Chapter 64 Bring It On!

Chapter 65 Double Trouble

Chapter 66 Omega vs. Omega

Chapter 67 Who Is He?

Chapter 68 The Kings

Chapter 69 Waiting for the Day

Chapter 70 A Bad Liar

Chapter 71 A Main Quest

Chapter 72 Replacement

Chapter 73 The Big Game

Chapter 74 The Rugby Match (Part 1)

Chapter 75 The Rugby Match (Part 2)

Chapter 76 Visions

Chapter 77 Wolf’s Howl

Chapter 78 The Full Moon

Chapter 79 Transform

Chapter 80 Nightmare in Cipen Park

Chapter 81 Help the Werewolf

Chapter 82 The More, the Merrier?

Chapter 83 A Bird?

Chapter 84 Turning Back

Chapter 85 Friend or Enemy?

Chapter 86 Escape

Chapter 87 Kind Stranger?

Chapter 88 Surviving the Night

Chapter 89 Best Friends

Chapter 90 A Gang Name

Chapter 91 Altered Hunter Ranks

Preview: A Real Leader

Acknowledgments

About the Author

CHAPTER 1

AN OBSESSION

“Hey, Gary, get your butt over here and check out the highlights from yesterday’s Altered fight!” a boy yelled from his seat.

The sound of the school bell rang out through the halls, signaling that it was time for lunch. Immediately opening the drawer under his desk, the boy pulled out an object. However, it wasn’t a packed lunch like one would expect; instead, the boy took out a tablet and put it on the table, propping it up, tilting it so he could comfortably watch the video.

The immediate destination: PouTube, the number one video-sharing platform. Soon there was a crowd of classmates around him, all with their eyes glued to the screen.

“If you’re not here in five seconds, I’m starting the video without you,” Tom warned. But Gary was focused on playing with something under his desk, moving his knees up and down, and he had made sure to cover his actions from the eyes of others. Tom was starting to think his friend was doing something that could get him in serious trouble.

Bro, we’re in the middle of class, come on! At least go to the bathroom if you’re that desperate, Tom thought.

“Just give me a sec, okay?” Gary shouted back. “Can’t you see I’m in the middle of something?” Underneath his own desk, Gary was staring at his phone. He had received a message and wasn’t sure how to reply. It was already the fifth time he had typed out his response but ended up deleting it because it seemed insignificant.

Be there this evening at 6, the message read.

Duuuuun nun, dun, dun na na!

With the sound of the opening theme song playing, Gary understood they had really started without him. He had given up coming up with a proper response, and in his haste, he wrote one letter. K.

“K? . . . K? Who does this kid think he is?” a man shouted in frustration as he received the message on his end.

Meanwhile, Gary had gotten over to the others by shoving his way through the crowd, allowing him to stand directly behind his friend Tom. Just in time, for the fight was about to begin.

Two men stood opposite each other in nothing but tight shorts. Their muscles were on full display. They were proud of all the hard work they had put in for the fight this day.

In one corner, weighing in at 200 pounds, undefeated for thirteen fights in a row, stood Kirk Summerfield, a man with a small goatee and black spiked-up hair that was short on the sides.

His opponent, weighing in at 190 pounds, with a record of ten straight wins, was Sam Dillpickle. He was a shorter, bald-headed man with a creepy smile.

“Hey, don’t you think these two look a bit like Tom and Gary?” one of the students suddenly mentioned.

“Holy crap, you are right! They totally look like those two!”

The students in the crowd laughed together at this discovery. Everyone but Tom and Gary themselves. Unfortunately, it was hard to deny the similarities between the two friends and the fighters.

Although Gary didn’t have facial hair, even though he was sixteen, he never could grow a single hair on his face, torso, chest, or legs. He was hairless.

It was the genes that some women wished they had. Although he did have hair in one area, he promised, and made sure everyone knew that.

It was an incident many of his male classmates wished to forget. Having been teased so much about it, he decided to show everyone proof. Of course, flashing your fellow classmates wasn’t the best way to prove it, and it had cost him a week’s worth of detention.

At least he made sure it was during the boys’ PE class; otherwise, it could have been worse.

Still, he did have the same hairstyle as Kirk, only his hair was green. It wasn’t his natural hair color but a decision he had made over the summer. Everyone was initially surprised when he had come to class looking like that, but at the same time, it wasn’t that strange for Gary to do something like that. He already had a reputation for doing absurd things.

As for Gary’s best friend, Tom, he looked like the spitting image of the other man in the video. He wasn’t exactly bald, but he always got a number one when going to the barber.

When Gary asked him about his hairstyle choice, Tom explained that it was low maintenance to keep it so short. That was pretty much his goal in life. He liked things like computers, games, TV shows, and books. Things that couldn’t talk back to him.

Tom hated interacting with people so much that he refused to go to anything but the self-service scanner at supermarkets. The idea that someone would try to make conversation with him about something he didn’t like was enough to send shivers down his spine.

Given their complete differences in character, it was odd that these two boys had become friends in the first place, but it had somehow worked out.

While their classmates were all busy laughing away, the fight had started.

As soon as the bell had rung, the appearance of both men in the ring had started to change slightly.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it looks like our Altereds are starting at full throttle right off the bat!” the announcer said, hyping up the crowd.

The most notable changes in Kirk were his grown-out nails as well as his skin color, which had slightly yellowed. Black spots started to appear up and down his arm, and small patches of fur showed up on his face.

On the other side, Sam’s cheeks had puffed up, and his legs appeared to be slightly webbed after his change.

“As you can see, Kirk is an Altered based on a cheetah-like beast, while his opponent Sam is based on a frog type. It’s going to be an interesting matchup if I do say so myself!” the announcer shouted.

The transformations took less than a second, and the first one to make a move was Sam. He whipped out his toadlike tongue and grabbed onto Kirk’s forearm.

The look on Kirk’s face just screamed DISGUSTING! He tensed up his arm, making his huge biceps grow even larger. The veins were visible, practically bulging out, and with a single slash of his claws, he managed to cut off the tongue of his opponent.

“Yes!” Gary shouted. “Come on, Kirk!”

Sam had leapt up, jumping higher than any normal person could thanks to his frog-powered legs. Alas, he just wasn’t quick enough. Kirk managed to grab him by the leg before he slammed his opponent to the ground.

It didn’t take long for the referee to declare Kirk the winner of this match and also the winner of this Altered fighters’ rookie tournament.

What everyone was watching was known as an Altered match. It was currently the most popular combat sport globally, mostly because it featured a new breed of humans called the Altered, although some argued whether they could even be called humans anymore.

Humans had discovered fossils of the ancient beasts that used to roam the earth. They were undoubtedly the progenitors of today’s animals, only fiercer, larger, and more powerful.

In the end, a scientist had made a major breakthrough and discovered a way to alter humans by injecting a fossil’s DNA into a human, thereby creating what people now knew as an Altered.

These “special humans” possessed the ability to shift their appearance, changing parts of their body to mimic the beasts they had been infused with. They were stronger and faster and even aged slower than normal humans. If one was ever struck with a disease, it could change its human composition to the point where it felt like it had a new body, ridding itself of such a thing.

But not everyone could become an Altered. The fossils discovered were limited in number, and although new fossils would be unearthed every so often until science found a way to re-create them artificially, they were valued at absurd prices. Only the rich and powerful could afford to turn themselves into Altereds.

Even the contestants they were watching right now had only received this opportunity because they were sponsored by big corporations.

Nearly every boy looked up to the Altered. In a way, they were like real-life superheroes. But the two biggest fans in the room were undoubtedly Tom and Gary. They were the ones who had gotten everyone hooked on the sport in the first place.

It was normal for people to wish to one day become an Altered, and it was the same for these two. Only the reasons for them wanting to become one differed greatly.

“A big round of applause for our winner, Kirk Summerfield!” the announcer called out at the end of the show.

When a beautiful woman came onto the stage to deliver the oversized check for ten million dollars, Gary’s eyes practically turned into dollar signs. The young boy was obsessed with money, and watching the Altered fight, especially the large check, he couldn’t think of an easier way to quickly become rich and famous.

Ironically, this obsession with money would soon take him down a dark path. A path from which he wouldn’t be able to turn back.

CHAPTER 2

THE GAME OF RUGBY

A loud, piercing whistle served as a reminder to everyone out on the school field that it was time for their daily warm-up, meaning they had to run two big laps around the school field.

School lessons might have ended, but that didn’t mean it was the end of the school day.

Staring off into the distance, Gary watched the large clock on the front of the school building. He was squinting hard, trying to make out where the two hands were on the dial, not because the clock was too small but because his eyesight had gotten terrible.

Still, Gary had always refused to wear glasses. He felt like if he did, it was only admitting to himself that he had bad eyesight. He was afraid that it would only deteriorate quicker if he gave in, and it would prove that he had bad genes. Something Altered did not have.

After placing his hands on the sides of his head, he pulled slightly, narrowing his field of vision, allowing him to focus—a technique he had learned when trying to see the screen at the back of the class.

“Three thirty, I still have a lot of time left.”

“Get a move on, broccoli head, unless you want my size-twelve shoe in your backside!” Mr. Root shouted. He was a large man who towered over not only the students but also all the other adults.

His last name was very fitting. If Gary didn’t know any better, he would have sworn that his teacher’s genes must have been mixed in with some giant ancient tree. He was that large and sturdy.

Not wanting to anger his teacher further, he joined the rest of the students trotting along at the back of the pack. There he ran side by side with his friend Tom, who was huffing and panting away.

“Why . . . do . . . they . . . want . . . to . . . kill . . . me?” Each time Tom uttered a word, he had to take a deep breath before being able to say the next.

“Did you know that it’s easier to breathe if you don’t speak and run at the same time?” Gary pointed out. He was doing just fine and could have passed his friend, yet he still chose to stay at the back.

It was the same every day, and this didn’t go unnoticed by Tom. He was aware that Gary was staying behind because of him.

In the end, Tom decided to give up keeping up with the rest of the class and started to slow down his pace. “That’s better. According to the internet, when you’re jogging, you should jog at a pace where you can still talk.”

“Yeah . . . but I don’t think they meant this.” The two of them were now moving so slowly that they were practically walking. Trying to make their loss of tempo less obvious, they were swinging their arms backward and forward, imitating those running in front of them.

Unfortunately, this didn’t get past Mr. Root, and the rest of the students were now busy waiting for them.

“Just get over here, you vegetables!” he commanded.

Once the students were all lined up, Mr. Root placed a rugby ball on the ground right in front of him. Out of the lineup, he selected the largest student, a boy named Blake.

He was the pride of their class, the type who was too good to be true and usually only appeared in movies as the main character. However, this wasn’t a movie, and he was right in front of his fellow students.

Blake had golden tanned skin with wavy brown hair that had just the right amount of curls. To top it off, his body was that of a naturally lean muscle builder, seemingly designed to excel in sports.

“You know, they say ten percent of the boys match with ninety percent of the girls,” Tom whispered to Gary while looking at Blake. “On Binder, I mean. Not that I’ve used that app myself. Seriously, what’s the point when I know nobody would swipe for me. That’s why I go on the app, just to swipe the other direction. That way, I’ve rejected all of them before they could ever reject me.”

“I thought you just said you didn’t use the app?”

Looking at his buddy and then looking at himself, Gary was a little disheartened. It wasn’t because someone like Blake must have girls lining up to be his girlfriend. No, it was because people like Blake were the perfect candidates to be chosen to become an Altered. As long as there were people like Blake in the world, how would he ever get selected?

“I won’t mince words. We all know that Blake here is the best on our team. Too bad for you all that there are hundreds of Blakes out there on other teams as well,” Mr. Root said, giving a very “motivating” pep talk. “What this team lacks is a good line of defense. People who can tackle. We’re here to find our tacklers.”

The aim of today’s training was to try to either (a) get the ball off Blake while he was running toward you, stopping him from reaching the white try line, or (b) tackle him to the ground.

After everyone watched the first few students attempt and fail, it became clear that it was an impossible task. Eventually, it was time for Gary to have his go at it.

Mr. Root clearly didn’t really have any high hopes for Gary, but everyone deserved an equal chance according to school regulations. He blew the whistle, and Blake started bulldozing his way toward Gary, gripping the ball tightly as if it were a newborn baby.

Hey, hey, can’t you go easy on me? Gary thought. My weak little hands aren’t ever going to be able to rip the ball off him. The only thing I can do is go for a tackle.

Charging forward, Gary summoned the will to face Blake. If there was one strong point making Gary stand out from the rest, it would be his lack of fear, something even Mr. Root had to admire.

When they were closing in on each other, Gary bent his knees slightly to get into a lower position. Although it might have looked like he wasn’t paying attention to the others, Gary had picked up on multiple details and habits.

Whenever Blake feints, he does so with his right foot first. You can see his extra weight shifting to that side. The field is soft today, and his feet are sinking deeper than usual. That helps him push himself forward, spinning his body over to the right side.

Knowing all of this, Gary went along with his feint, aiming to go in for the tackle, but stopped at the last second and went to his own right. Just like he had predicted, Blake’s plan was to spin around to avoid the tackle, but Gary knew where he would end up.

Going low, he saw Blake’s legs and was ready . . . only to see Blake’s colossal knee slam toward his face and whack him right on the nose, followed by a loud crack that even the onlookers probably heard.

Blood started to pour down in an instant, and Gary lay there on the cold grass field.

Shit. So what if I figured out where he would go? It’s not like I have the body to do anything about it.

From his years of watching Altered fights, Gary was great at seeing how people’s bodies moved before they did. He could see patterns that maybe even the person themself didn’t realize they had.

Alas, it was all useless.

“Hey, man, I’m so sorry. Are you all right? Let me take you to the doctor,” Blake said as he helped Gary off the ground to see if his nose was okay.

As Gary touched his nose lightly, blood started to gush down even more. “I think it’s broken,” Gary said, more to himself.

“Oh, man, I’m so sorry. Let me take you to my family’s clinic. I’m gonna tell them what happened so that they won’t charge you.”

The worst thing about Blake in Gary and Tom’s collective minds was that despite being so popular and seemingly having been handed everything in life, he was actually a nice guy. At least in movies or TV shows, someone who was this perfect would have a bad side and act arrogant, probably even bullying the geek in class, but in real life, that wasn’t the case at all.

No one hated Blake; everyone loved his gentle, soft side. Including Gary and Tom, who were merely jealous.

“Don’t worry about it. It wasn’t your fault,” Gary muttered under his breath as he walked off toward Tom on the sideline. “It was my fault for trying anyway.”

Blake heard Gary’s words. Out of everyone who had tried to tackle him today, Gary was the only one who had managed to predict where he would be going. This classmate of his obviously had talent, and Blake wanted to tell him that, but he had already gone off with Tom, who was accompanying him to the nurse’s office.

“You should have seen your head fly back!” Tom teased, all excited. “You know, when I first saw you after the summer break, with your hair all dyed green and that, I thought you had changed, but it turns out you’re just the same idiot as always.”

Usually, the two would laugh about something like this, but it seemed like today, Gary wasn’t in the mood to be joking around. He didn’t respond.

“Why do they even make us do this sport, anyway? Oh, that’s right, because our country has an obesity crisis. So they made it mandatory for every student to take part in a sports club every day, so we don’t turn into pigs like most of the adults who came up with that stupid idea,” Tom continued, yet this didn’t get a response out of Gary either.

“Hey, so how’s your sister doing?” Tom asked, trying to change the subject.

“You can’t date her,” Gary replied instantly, still holding pieces of tissue up his nose.

“What? I didn’t mean it like that. Although truth be told, she is growing up to be quite the beauty. I can already picture it; in a couple of years, she’ll be embarrassed to be hanging around her big brother. She won’t be like she is now. You should treasure these days.”

A picture started to form in Tom’s mind, of a slim-waisted but curvy girl with short brown hair and perfectly shaped large eyes. Only his vision was slightly altered in a particular area. Instead of mere melons, they were the size of watermelons.

“I know.” Gary sighed in defeat, aware that soon enough he might have to fight off his sister’s suitors.

After he arrived at the nurse’s office to have his nose looked at, she told him what he had already guessed himself. His nose was indeed broken. The nurse recommended that he visit the hospital if he didn’t want it to remain crooked. It was possible to do surgery to fix it later on, but it would be easier to do it before it healed crookedly.

That was when he noticed the time, and Gary rushed out of the room.

“Thank you, I’ll promise to have it looked at!” he called back.

But he wasn’t rushing off to the hospital. Instead, he was running back home.

Leaving school, he rushed outside the gate. It was a small town, so it was quicker for him to run than to take the bus. Not to mention, there was another reason why he wanted to avoid using the bus. He didn’t really want to spend any money, especially since he could be back home within ten minutes if he hurried.

Litter filled the streets of his neighborhood, and there were patches of graffiti near the apartment buildings. He was aware that their area wasn’t the greatest compared to others.

It was by no means the worst place to live, but it certainly wasn’t the best either. Eventually, he reached his own apartment building. The buzzer lock attached to the side of the door had been broken a long time ago and had never been fixed, allowing anyone to come in as they pleased.

The only thing left was the grueling task of walking up five flights of stairs. The building had no elevator, and Gary’s family was “lucky” enough to live on the top floor.

When he finally made it to the top, he felt like someone was reaching into his stomach and trying to pull out all his organs. He was huffing and puffing louder than Tom had been out on the field.

He waited a minute to catch his breath before entering apartment 604.

“Welcome back, darling. You’re just in time for dinner, although I’m gonna need a couple of minutes. Do you want me to leave it out for you tonight as well?” his mom shouted from the kitchen.

“Yes, Mom. I’ll be going out with Tom tonight too,” he shouted back, rushing into his bedroom.

Their apartment was relatively small, consisting of only two bedrooms and a kitchen that was simultaneously the dining area and the living room when not in use. It was all his family could afford, and since there were only two bedrooms, it meant . . .

“Gary, what the hell happened to your nose?” His sister, who had been lying on her bed, was still in her school uniform and listening to music on her phone. Just moments ago, she had been singing away until a certain someone had bulldozed into the room.

“Amy, don’t worry about it; I’ve got to go,” Gary replied as he quickly changed out of his school uniform. “And please don’t tell Mom.”

That was right; the two of them shared a room, even though he was sixteen and she was fifteen, only a year younger. Of course, both of them kept this a secret from their friends. If people found out, they might spread rumors about them being in some sort of a freakish family who got up to some strange things.

But it wasn’t like they had much choice. Their family situation wasn’t the best, and they both knew that. They had never once complained about their situation to their mother, since the poor woman was raising her teenage children to the best of her ability while working multiple jobs.

After changing clothes, Gary left the apartment. Along his way, he constantly looked at his phone to check the time, and it was now almost five thirty.

I made it, with time to spare.

He had arrived outside a well-known nightclub. Above him a sign read Basement. It was in the town center, and he wasn’t here to meet Tom. He had lied about that part.

I promise I will make our lives better, Gary thought as he walked through the doors.

Inside, a group of men in suits greeted him. Sitting on one of the sofas was a man with a cigar in his hand. Two more men stood close to him, obviously acting as his personal bodyguards.

“I’ve been waiting for you, kid,” the man said with a smile as he let out a puff of smoke.

Gary had a deep, dark secret that he had been hiding from everybody. Not just his family, but his closest friends too. There was a reason for the sudden change in his appearance over the summer.

Unbeknownst to them all, he had joined a gang.

CHAPTER 3

THE UNDERDOGS

The summer break had been an eventful time for Gary. It was not just because he had chosen to dye his hair and get a new look, but because he had decided to join a gang. He had kept it hidden from his friend, his mother, and even his sister.

“Had you been late, I was thinking of chopping one of your toes off, so you wouldn’t forget,” the seated man told him.

It was only five thirty, so the nightclub had a few hours before it would officially open. However, the club itself was actually just a front, run and used by the gang known as the Underdogs. The smoking man who was talking to Gary was the leader of the Underdogs, Damion Hawk.

The gang members mostly wore suits, making each one look like an average businessman or someone who worked for the Secret Service. This included their leader, although even a student could tell he wasn’t a businessman. He had a look about him that was just too wild for someone who supposedly sat in a cubicle all day. He had a black Mohawk and a hoop earring in his right ear.

Yet the man’s most prominent feature was his eyes. They were the eyes of a madman. Usually, Gary was fearless for someone his age. If he hadn’t been, he would have never gathered the courage to join a gang in the first place . . . But these people scared him.

Gary gulped a little, not saying a word. The palms of his hands were starting to sweat a little.

“Hey, I’m just kidding.” Damion laughed. “Why don’t you head to the back while the grown-ups do a bit of talking? I’ll get someone to fetch you when we need you.”

As Gary went back, he was shaking a little. It was hard to tell whether Damion had actually been joking about this sort of punishment. There had been times when he had been forced to watch the leader actually cut off one of his own men’s limbs.

Before joining this gang, Gary had decided to do some research into gangs. Unfortunately, he had only ended up reading a few comics and manga books here and there, and to be honest, this had led him to the conclusion that it wouldn’t be too much trouble. Even his internet searches and movies had romanticized gangs.

Alas, being in a real gang had turned out to be nothing like in those comics and manga books. The members of the Underdogs did anything to make a profit. They didn’t shy away from selling drugs, killing, stealing, or extorting others. There were many times when Gary had wished he could just leave, but there were two things keeping him there.

One of them was the fear of leaving the place. Would they even let him? After everything he had seen and heard? It was a question he didn’t dare ask out loud.

Come on, Gary, you can do this! Just think of the money, man, come on!

And that was the second reason.

Pushing the door open, Gary entered the back of the nightclub, where there was a large staff room. Inside were some other teens who were not too far apart in age from him, sitting on a sofa. He sat down beside them, but not a single one spoke a word.

Gary had seen them a few times before, but from what he could tell, none of them went to his school. He wondered about their reasons for being here. Not why they were here today, he knew that, but why they had decided to join a gang. Most people his age only joined out of necessity.

The world was a tough place to live in at the moment. The economy had been greatly affected ever since the introduction of autonomous machinery. It had created new jobs but at the same time gotten rid of many old jobs. Gary’s own family had suffered the aftermath.

His mother had lost her job as a factory worker sorting out parts, but she wasn’t the only one. Mass unemployment had ruined many families.

The government’s solution to all of this had been to offer retraining in the new skills and departments that the world now required: cybersecurity, programming, engineering, mechanics, and so on. But it had proven to be too hard for her to go through any type of training with the little time she had, since she was stuck doing odd jobs.

All of this had created a tiering system within the towns and cities, making the divide between the rich and poor even more evident. Tier 5 was the lowest, while Tier 1 was the highest. These tiers were based on how high their monthly productivity was. Quality of life, technology, medical care, all of these things were better the more cash a town or city generated.

However, one sector had started to boom because of this, and that was organized crime. It was highly profitable for them, as they fed on the truly desperate, who were clinging onto anything they could in the Tier 5 cities while also serving the very top people in the higher tiers. Gangs existed in all of the tiered cities and often worked together as middlemen.

The Underdogs were one such group. They weren’t a huge gang, being in a small town, but they were widely known and feared there. Gary was aware of the bad things they had done, but he had chosen to ignore them.

The town was a Tier 3, so the quality of life was okay, but Gary’s family had to make sacrifices to stay here, forced to live in a small, run-down place with little room. Still, they were barely hanging on, and both children knew that, despite their mother’s best attempts at hiding it from them.

Gary had seen the bills that came in the mail. If this carried on, it would just be a matter of time until they would have to move to a lower-tier city. The education would be worse, and crime rates would be higher.

He wasn’t going to let this happen. Their life had already turned to crap as it was, and he didn’t want it to deteriorate. No, he wanted a better future for his mother and his little sister . . . even if he had to pay the price for it.

He was the older sibling, the only man of the house, and he wished to return the favor to his mother, who had been looking after them even when times had been tough. He did not wish to run like that man!

Suddenly the double doors opened again. When Gary saw who it was, his eyes lit up with excitement.

“Hey, kiddo, you’re here again.” The man greeted him with a smirk.

“Kirk, I just saw your fight this morning! Congratulations,” Gary said, jumping up from the sofa.

Most Altered worked for some type of organization, and Kirk was no different. He worked for the Underdogs as well. They were his sponsor, or at least they owned the corporation that Kirk was part of. Gary didn’t know many details about the relationship between them. Still, he couldn’t imagine how much money the Underdogs must have put into Kirk for him to become the Altered semi-superstar he was today.

“When the frog man jumped up like that, and you used your raw power to smash him to the ground, it all seemed too easy for you,” Gary said excitedly.

“It might have looked easy, but most of the things I did today, I only managed because I was an Altered. Don’t go around trying to do things like that yourself; otherwise, you will just end up hurting yourself,” Kirk cautioned his overeager fanboy.

“I know,” Gary replied, a little depressed as he thought about how different his life would be if he could be an Altered himself.

As Kirk saw the strange look on Gary’s face and noticed something else about him, a lightbulb lit up above Kirk’s head.

“I know, you should have some time before you have to do your thing, right? Come with me,” Kirk ordered. “And don’t worry, if Damion calls for you, I’ll say you were with me.”

Gary didn’t know what was going on, but he trusted Kirk and decided to follow him. Ever since he had joined the gang, everyone had seemed a bit scary to him, rough around the edges, all but Kirk. With the Altered, everything just seemed to click.

The good thing was, Kirk was treated as a valuable asset to the group, so he could get away with things the others couldn’t. If Kirk said he wouldn’t get in trouble, then he should be safe.

The two of them left the staff room and went over to one of the empty clubrooms. It was quite a large club, with three rooms that featured different music types. Right now, they were in what was known as the cheese room. It usually featured favorite hits from the time Gary’s mother had been his age.

Still, during the day, it looked completely different. The lights were on, so there were no fancy colored lights, and the disco ball above looked less than special.

“What are we doing here?” Gary asked. “You’re not going to ask me to dance, are you?”

Kirk started to laugh; Gary seemed to have a talent for making him laugh.

“No, you idiot. I’m going to teach you how to fight.”

“How to fight? Why would I need to learn that?”

Kirk pointed to his own nose, and that was when Gary remembered that his nose was broken from rugby practice.

Huh, wait, I think he has the wrong idea. Does he think I’m getting bullied or something?

“No, wait, this is—”

“You don’t have to explain yourself. I’m sure the other guy looks even worse. Anyway, it will be good just to show you a few basic things. With the line of work you’re doing, who knows when it will come in handy,” Kirk said.

Gary didn’t say anything else. He decided it would be stupid to try to clear up this misunderstanding. Besides, since one of his idols had offered to give him a personal lesson, he would be silly to try to get out of it.

Kirk started by showing him a basic punch, a jab in boxing. Punching the air, he demonstrated it a few times. The major point that Gary took from this was that Kirk’s right hand was always covering the side of his face, even when throwing out the punch.

His left foot would twist slightly while he was throwing the punch outward; at the same time, his hip would move in as well. Rather than a push, the punch was more of a snap.

Next it was Gary’s turn, and he repeated all the steps in his head. He punched a few times, and it looked good and felt right.

“It looks like I have a talent for this. Maybe I should join a boxing club instead; what do you think?” Gary asked, but turning his head he saw the look of disappointment on Kirk’s face.

“Sorry,” Kirk said, rubbing the back of his head. “Your punch is good, the movements are perfect, and you did everything right . . .”

Gary had a feeling a huge but was coming.

“But . . . your punch is so slow. Is that as fast and hard as you can go?” Kirk asked.

Gary would have loved to tell him it wasn’t, but unfortunately, that would be a lie. He had been trying his hardest without holding back. Things always seemed to end up this way for him. He understood the theory, understood how things worked, yet for some reason, it was impossible to perform the way he pictured it in his head.

The doors to the cheese room opened, interrupting their training session. One of the men in suits walked in. “There you are. The boss has been looking for you.”

When Gary returned to the first clubroom, he saw Damion still sitting on the sofa. Opposite him were five kids, including Gary, all standing up straight and waiting for orders. On the table were five metal briefcases, each one locked with a unique combination.

“Time for you guys to get to work,” Damion said.

This was Gary’s job in the organization. He worked as a transporter, and tonight his job would be to deliver whatever was in one of these briefcases.

While Damion explained the job details, something caught Gary’s eye. It was just for a brief moment, so he was unsure if his eyes might have played a trick on him, but he felt he had seen something very odd . . .

Did that briefcase just move?

CHAPTER 4

THE SYSTEM

Damion continued his explanation of today’s special task. There were five briefcases in front of five people. Each person was to deliver the briefcase in front of them to the correct location, safely; naturally, they had all been given different locations.

Damion was describing some other details, but Gary was not paying much attention, still focused on the briefcase in front of him, waiting for it to move again. Gary was smart enough to figure out the reason for there being five briefcases. A few had to be dummies, mixed in to confuse whoever might plan to steal them.

If his intuition was right, the one in front of him was the real one. That and the fact that he could have sworn he saw it move, although ever since he had started staring at it, it had behaved like a normal briefcase.

Am I imagining things? Gary started to doubt himself.

He looked at the suited man who was closest to the case. The two of them made eye contact for a brief second before Gary looked away. If he kept up eye contact for any longer, he was worried he was going to get hit.

“All right, are there any questions?” Damion asked.

One of the students raised his hand. He was a tall, weak-looking boy with curly hair. He hadn’t been in the organization for long, and Gary had only seen him a couple of times.

“What’s in the package?” the boy asked.

Immediately Gary clenched his fist and looked down at the floor, as he knew what was coming next. Just as expected, a few seconds later, he heard a whack and saw the student tumble from the corner of his eye.

The man looked like he was about to hit him again, but Damion interrupted him. “Stop. The boy is still new, so I’ll forgive him.” Damion then looked at the others before stopping at Gary. “Greeny, tell him the rules of being a transporter.”

“Yes, boss,” Gary answered, turning to look down the line of people. “Never take the package, never ask what’s in the package, and never look inside the package!”

“Excellent,” Damion replied with a slow clap. “Break one of these rules and . . . let’s just say you don’t want to break these rules. I can proudly tell you that we never had anyone break the rules twice. Make of that what you will.”

He clicked his fingers, and one of the suited men handed each of them a small wad of cash wrapped in an elastic band. It wasn’t thick like in the movies, but judging by the size and weight, this job was the highest-paying job Gary had ever been on.

Each of them had been given five hundred dollars, which was half of the payment up front. They would get the other half when they returned upon completing the job. Seeing the amount of money in his hand, Gary gulped. A thousand dollars was a lot of money to him—especially for someone who was sixteen—and best of all, it would go a long way to help out his family.

He was already doing calculations in his head. They could pay the electric and gas bills, and with what would be left, he could buy a new phone for his sister. This money was nothing for the gangsters, and simply put, they were taking advantage of the students; both sides were aware of that, but the students didn’t have another choice.

Where would they get a job at their age, not to mention such a high-paying one? All the supermarket and fast-food jobs had been replaced by computer screens and machinery. The construction sites were already full of manual laborers. Only technology whiz kids might get a job helping another corporation be the next new thing, and Gary wasn’t one of those people.

That type of stuff was more suited to his friend Tom.

Each of them was given a location, and the job had officially started. When he picked up the metal briefcase, it had some weight to it, but it was hard to tell if anything was inside.

Jiggling it, he tried to guess what it was, and once again, another man gave him a stare.

“Right, don’t ask what’s in the case.”

They left the nightclub and went their separate ways, including the tall, curly-haired boy who now had a bloody nose.

“Stay safe, guys,” Gary said quietly, more to himself than the others, as each of them went off. During all of this, there was one big worry at the back of Gary’s mind. This was the highest-paying job they had ever received. The gangsters wouldn’t just hand out money willy-nilly, so this also meant it was the most dangerous job that he had ever been given.

There had been no problems so far on all of his runs. It was why the Underdogs were using students in the first place. They didn’t look suspicious, and their faces were unknown. There was less of a chance for the students to rat them out to another gang, and they would be too scared to do something like that anyway.

Still, with every job, there was risk, and it didn’t get easier. On the contrary, with each successful mission, it felt that at some point his luck would run out.

It was safe to say that Gary stood out a bit. He was running around with a metal briefcase that looked too fancy for the clothes he was wearing. Usually he did his drop-offs on foot, so he was still in his sneakers and his favorite black and red tracksuit.

He didn’t care about the gawking eyes that were looking at him, and he just hurried on. When he eventually reached the location, it turned out to be a construction site. The workers had already left and gone home for the day. The foundation for an apartment building had already been built, but there were no walls or roofs yet.

Gary was to give the briefcase to a person who would meet him there. He waited in the center of the foundation, where there was nothing but the ground and a few bags of cement here and there.

Gary nervously tapped his foot as he continued to look around. When he pulled out his phone, it was 8:05 p.m., already past the meeting time.

“Hello!” Gary shouted, “I’m here.” His voice echoed slightly, but there was no reply.

Am I in the wrong place? After double-checking that he was in the right place, he sent a text to Damion.

No one here, what should I do?

It was the first time something like this had happened.

Tired of waiting, Gary started to walk around, checking to see if he could spot the person.

Then he saw it. He discovered a dark red liquid on the floor, coming from behind one of the building’s support pillars.

Please tell me that’s just paint, Gary silently prayed.

This wasn’t a movie, and Gary wasn’t dumb enough to go around the pillar when he was already sure there would be a dead person behind it.

Ding. His phone went off.

He pulled the phone out of his pocket, and there were only two words.

Run back!

Lifting his head, he saw a four-inch blade coming right toward him. Out of instinct, the only thing he could do was lift the metal briefcase up, and thankfully he heard a clanging sound as the briefcase clashed with the knife, protecting his face.

He saw the man who had thrown the knife for only a brief second, because, before he knew it, Gary was running for his life. He didn’t know where he was running; he just knew he had to get away from that psycho. He could feel his heart beating so loudly that he thought it would jump out of his chest. He also noticed that his underwear was feeling uncomfortably warm as he had released his bladder.

I’m going to die! I’m going to die! That was a real gangster, and he just tried to stab me!

Running toward where he had come from, he saw a few more men wearing suits at the gate. As soon as they saw him, they charged.

There’s more! What the hell do I do?

Dashing to the side, he left the apartment building and headed to the more gritty area of the construction site, where there were several mounds of dirt, diggers, and more. The problem was there were only two entrances to the construction site, the one that he had entered from and the other on the opposite end.

One was stationed in the north, the other south, yet in his panic, he had run west. A wall topped with barbed wire surrounded the area. Even if he didn’t care about hurting himself, scaling something like that would be impossible.

Eventually, the adrenaline in Gary’s body had lessened, and he was feeling incredibly weak after the rush. His hands and legs were shaking, and he knew he couldn’t run away for much longer. Diving in between objects, he eventually decided to hide behind a mound of dirt to catch his breath.

Peeking out, he saw three men, each with a blade in his hand.

At this point, Gary wondered if he should call the police, but if he did, then it would just be his own gang after his life.

Suddenly, the briefcase started to move about again, jiggling Gary’s hand slightly. It definitely felt like there was something alive inside.

What the hell is in there? But that wasn’t important right now.

He peeked around the corner again, planning his next move. He saw one person on his far left and the other on his far right, searching for him.

Wait, where’s the third person?

Suddenly a sharp shooting pain spread in Gary’s lower back. It throbbed and felt warm.

Gritting his teeth, Gary turned and slung the briefcase around. The corner managed to smash the top of his assaulter’s head, causing Gary to let go of the briefcase, which fell to the ground. The man appeared hurt and dizzy momentarily, but he wasn’t knocked out. More notably, Gary saw blood on the man’s hands.

Touching his back, he felt blood there as well. He had been stabbed.

“Damn it, I’m just a kid in high school,” Gary blurted out.

The man looked stunned by the words for a second, as Gary’s weaving body was about to fall over from the shock and the tension of everything that was happening. As he fell toward the man, he thought about his sister’s smile and his mother’s crying face if he were to leave them now.

Before hitting the ground, he fought through the pain and placed his left foot out, stabilizing himself. He twisted his hip and back foot, and with his right hand he threw the strongest punch he could, hitting the man right on the chin. It wasn’t a jab but another punch that he had seen Kirk do. Learning the principles of the jab had set him up for this perfect punch. A straight right.

On contact, he felt it connect cleanly, with a surge through his arm.

The man fell to the ground, knocked out, as Gary fell down at the same time.

Despite his accomplishment, he felt tired and weak and just wanted to close his eyes. The only thing he could see in front of him was the briefcase. It was moving more than ever, so much so that it looked to be jumping up and down.

“I don’t want to die,” Gary whispered, with barely enough energy to speak.

Click.

He heard the briefcase opening up. The next moment his vision had gone to black. His senses were still slightly there, and he felt an even more immense pain now digging into his wrist. It was far worse than the stab wound, but he was too tired even to react or shout out.

Then, even with his eyes closed and his vision gone, something appeared in front of him.

Congratulations, you have been granted the Werewolf System!

CHAPTER 5

WHAT AM I?

Gary’s eyes fluttered open slowly as he regained consciousness. The first thing he saw was some very tall trees above him. The sky was gray, making it hard to tell if it was just about to turn to night or whether it would soon be day again. As he lifted his body, he heard a rustling sound, which turned out to come from the many leaves underneath him.

Am I in the woods? He looked around and saw nothing but trees, no sign of a pathway or road. Why did I come here? Wasn’t I jus—

“Argh!” His head started to ring with pain. When he lifted it up, he could see that his sleeves were partially torn. He tried to remember the last thing that had happened, but all that came to mind was the throbbing pain in his back.

That guy . . . he stabbed me! Lifting his shirt, he peeked over his shoulder but found nothing, not even after running his fingers over the supposed wound. For a second, he questioned himself. Could all of this be just a bad dream?

Alas, he quickly noticed something that made him think all of it had been real. Running down his trousers were signs of dried blood; they appeared to have dripped from his own wound. Something had definitely happened earlier.

He should have been in pain. There should have been a wound, yet there was nothing! In fact, his body felt far better than it had ever felt before.

Just what the hell happened after I got stabbed? How the hell did I get here? Shit, where the hell is “here” in the first place?

He had no memory whatsoever of what had happened from the construction site to where he was now, and in all his thinking, he had ignored something obvious. His vision had slightly been altered, and in more ways than one.

Even though it was quite dark now, he could make out details in the night he shouldn’t have been able to see. The leaves on the trees a distance away, the ants crawling up their trunks, passing food to each other, and then there was the moon. It was still out, suggesting that it was still the middle of the night after all.

Hang on . . . are those ants? Eventually, Gary noticed the discrepancy about his eyes. How is that possible? Could it be because of all those carrots Mom has been cooking lately? They say carrots improve your eyesight . . . Or is that just another myth? I bet Tom would know.

In the middle of his crazy thoughts, he registered something in the top left corner of his vision. It reminded him of a notification from an email or a game. He moved his head, trying to get rid of it, but wherever he looked, it stayed there.

Then he started to touch his face to see if he was wearing anything, but there was nothing. The notification appeared to be glued onto his vision.

How the hell do I get rid of this thing? As he was thinking about the notification itself, it suddenly opened, and a screen appeared in front of him, hovering in midair.

Your bloodlust has been lowered

You are no longer enraged

State has been updated to Normal

Is that . . . a system?

Gary had played a few games in the past with a similar interface. However, he wasn’t quite the gamer himself. He seldom had time for them, as he was always busy trying to come up with ways to make money. His buddy Tom would have been perfect for this, but with his limited knowledge, Gary still knew how to navigate it a bit.

The notifications looked like they could be deleted, and it looked like there were more options on the general interface. The annoying thing was it was all blocking his field of vision. Still, he couldn’t deny it was kind of cool. Like he had been turned into some futuristic robot.

Nevertheless, he didn’t like what he was reading. The word bloodlust did not sound good at all. What exactly had happened? Had he been turned into some type of vampire, now required to feed on blood? It would at least explain the wounds healing on his body. He had read supernatural stories about such things before.

Quickly touching his teeth, he felt nothing, and they appeared to be the same as they had always been.

Then there was the second half of the message: that his blood-lust had “been lowered.” Reading it again, he gulped and tried to look at himself. There wasn’t a huge amount of blood on him apart from that on his trousers. Somehow he’d managed to escape from that construction site alive while three men were chasing him; he started to consider the worst-case scenario.

No, nothing happened, stop being paranoid! Gary thought, trying to convince himself. Surely I would have remembered something like that . . . But would I really? . . . I still have no clue how I got in the woods in the first place.

Unfortunately, with his tendency to forget even menial tasks like emptying the washing machine when his mother asked him to, he was unable to rely on his memory.

After deleting the notifications, Gary decided to study the system a little. The first thing he saw was his own image looking back at him and his name on the side with a few stats.

Name: Gary Dem

Level 1

Exp: 0/100

Health: 100/100

Energy: 100/100

Heart rate: 42 BPM

State: Normal

He tried to figure out what this information meant. He was unable to open any sort of description, and there wasn’t really anything that told him what was going on.

“Health” seemed to be pretty self-explanatory, but “Energy”? The best he could come up with was that it might be something similar to stamina. As for “heart rate,” he considered that a very strange thing to appear. What worried him was that his resting heart rate had never been that low. That was a heart rate that athletes were able to achieve, and although Gary wasn’t unfit, he was far from being an athlete.