An Outing

As Atticus left the underground ring, the cheers and bloodthirsty roars of the crowd still echoed in his ears. His steps were steady, his expression calm, but beneath the surface, his body thrummed with a strange energy. The soul essence of the Bone Crusher, the life force of his defeated opponent, lingered within him, fueling his every step.

The system was doing its work, absorbing the essence and converting it into raw power. His mind was flooded with the sensation of strength—a heavy, suffocating weight that both thrilled and disturbed him. The Reaper Points tally flashed in his vision, now at a staggering 50,000.

"All that from one fight," Atticus muttered to himself as he crossed through the dark, winding corridors. The weight of the negative emotions he had absorbed—the fear, the hatred, the malice of the crowd and the Bone Crusher—pressed down on him like a suffocating cloak. It had fueled his victory, his current profit. It was a dark, addictive power, one that came at the co
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