35. Advancement and Rewards

Page 1 of 3

“Mm…am I in…a hospital room?”

Dean awoke on a bed that cradled him like a baby’s cradle. Opening his eyes, he saw a stretch of spotless white ceiling and, at its center, a slowly spinning fan. Mounted on the wall, a television was broadcasting scenes from the cordoned-off shores of Lake Mead: a voluptuous blonde reporter, a cluster of policemen, and a dozen SUV police cars in a dramatic formation. Above the television, a clock’s hands pointed to 8 p.m.

Dean drew a deep breath. The pungent scent of disinfectant rushed into his nostrils, jolting his senses awake.

“You’re finally awake!”

“Rust, Britney, Caroline?”

Three familiar faces sat on chairs by the hospital bed, their weary expressions lit with joy and gratitude.

“How long have I been out?”

“It’s the evening of the 22nd now. You were unconscious for a day and a night, and even had a mild fever in between.”

Propping himself up with both hands, Dean leaned against the bed’s headboard. Caroline, ever considerate, rushed to tuck a pillow behind his back, her small hands massaging his arm as she smiled and explained, “But the fever’s gone now. The doctor checked you over—you’re perfectly healthy. Apart from your abdominal injury that needs rest, you’re stronger than a lion!”

Dean glanced at his three companions by the bedside. “Is everyone all right?”

“It’s a miracle! Every member of Morning Band, including Liam, Kadi, Noah, and their girlfriends, followed your advice and hid behind the barbecue grill. Not a single one of them was hurt, though the gunfire left them traumatized—they’re now receiving counseling,” Caroline said. “Oh, and Dean, I tried every way to contact your uncle, but couldn’t reach him. Instead, your neighbors Jacob and Tanya came to look after you for a night. The doctor said you were out of danger, so they went home.”

Dean nodded. “I’m fine, no need to trouble my uncle.”

“Still, man,” Rust and Britney got up, visibly moved, “if you hadn’t stepped up, I’d probably be dead now, never to see Grace again!”

“Grace will bring you your favorite roast ribs in a few days to say thanks.”

“I can’t wait,” Dean said with a laugh, swallowing hard as his stomach rumbled.

Caroline hurriedly handed him a peeled apple, which Dean finished in a few bites, and then grabbed a hot dog from the shopping bag by the table.

“You’re a real hero, a warrior, the living Clark Kent! Vazell from the baseball team saw your bravery and is telling everyone at school,” Rust went on, his eyes shining with admiration. “It’s unbelievable—one man against fully armed gunmen, saving everyone from rifles and grenades… In a few days, the school, the mayor, and the LVPD chief will definitely award you a medal of honor!”

Dean’s expression darkened. The ham in his mouth suddenly lost its flavor. In the chaos of the attack, everyone had been scrambling for their lives—why would someone have the sense to watch him?

If this became widely known…

How would he handle the ensuing investigation?

And his beloved Colt M1911A1 had been left on the beach, likely picked up by the cops—yet another headache.

“What did Vazell say?”

“He said you threw a dart that badly wounded the gunman, then rushed over and broke all their necks.”

A dart?

He mistook the gun for a dart? Dean’s lips twitched, but at least the guy hadn’t witnessed his powers.

“Vazell was seeing things. I’m just an ordinary high school student. Sure, I know a bit of wrestling, but there’s no way I could take down three shooters alone. In fact, others helped too…” Dean spoke earnestly. “They were even braver than I was—risking their lives to tackle the gunmen, giving me a chance to shoot. They were shot and wounded for their efforts—I don’t even know if they survived.”

The three listened, slowly coming to an understanding. “I knew that guy was exaggerating just to show off!”

Taking the opportunity, Dean repeated his story: six others had helped him kill the gunmen, but he didn’t know who they were.

Once the trio accepted this, albeit with some skepticism, he changed the subject.

“What about everyone else? Are the students and teachers all right?”

The mood in the room shifted instantly from joy to heaviness. The three lowered their heads, their faces clouded with sadness.

“Sarah’s gone… Dora’s gone,” Britney sobbed, clutching the bedsheet, reciting a long list of names in a broken voice: “Bonnie, Cherry, Bobby, Jeff, Ariel, Alex…”

“I hardly slept last night. I dreamed they were weeping and begging me for help, and I couldn’t do a thing… sob…”

Britney’s crying grew softer, barely audible. Rust wrapped his arms around his girlfriend’s trembling shoulders, choking up.

“And Coach Tom from the baseball team, Ms. Cardale from math, her husband and daughter… Of the hundred or so at the barbecue party, almost a third didn’t make it. I heard… their deaths were horrific. Even more were injured—some are still comatose, fighting for their lives.”

Dean bowed his head, joining the trio in a silent tribute to the victims.

In truth, having only been here a month, he didn’t feel much for classmates who had always ignored him. But he was human—he felt a pang of regret.

So many young lives, gone before they could even bloom.

“How much grief must their families and friends feel,” Dean sighed.

“Some mothers just couldn’t accept it—fainted from grief. It’s surreal, like a horror film,” Caroline said, clutching his arm, her gaze distant, as if playing out some grim scenario. “Since I was born, there’s never been such a terrifying attack in Las Vegas. Why yesterday? Why our school?”

Britney and Rust were equally shaken, unable to comprehend how what was supposed to be a celebratory barbecue had turned into a bloody nightmare.

Dean pondered the question, falling into deep thought.

…

The three stayed in the hospital room for another half hour, fussing over Dean and repeating their reminders.

By nine o’clock—

“Buddy, get some rest… We have to go, or our families will worry.” Rust stepped forward, giving his best friend a firm hug and a light punch to the chest. “We’ll visit you in the morning!”

“There are fruit, cookies, all kinds of bread, and yogurt in the bag…” Britney hugged him as well. “By the way, the school is covering all your medical and ambulance bills—so you don’t have to worry.”

With a look from Caroline, the two quietly left the room.

Dean was left alone with the rock girl in her oversized hoodie.

He could hear the girl’s quickened breathing and the pounding of her heart.

A waft of fragrance drifted over.

Caroline buried her face in his chest, arms wrapped tightly around his waist.

She was scared; her petite frame trembled like a frightened rabbit.

Dean gently reached out to stroke the silky, golden ponytail he’d long been curious about, patting her back until the trembling ceased.

“I really thought I was going to die,” Caroline looked up, gazing into his eyes. “I kept imagining myself trapped in a coffin, clawing at the lid, unable to push it open.”

“All I could do was cry—how shameful and embarrassing!”

“That’s a normal reaction,” Dean comforted.

“When I calmed down, do you know what was the first thing that crossed my mind?” Caroline asked.

Dean obligingly lowered his head, adopting a pose of attentive listening.

Page 2 of 3

There was a special note in Caroline’s voice, her delicate, pale face filled with a sense of defiance. “I’m still so young, I’ve never even had a boyfriend, never won a singing contest, never become a world-famous star! How could I die now?”

Dean grinned, flashing his white teeth. “The danger’s over—there will be plenty of chances ahead. You’ll achieve your dreams, I’m sure.”

“At that moment, everyone was running, screaming, crying, losing their minds!” Caroline’s voice and gaze softened further. “But you comforted me. You were the only one who ran toward those bastards for our sake!”

“Uh.” Dean rubbed his nose, offering no protest.

“I think I’m sick… I can’t stop picturing you charging into danger.” Caroline touched her flushed cheeks, then suddenly stretched up and kissed Dean on the left cheek.

It was ticklish and warm.

She climbed onto the bed and nestled close to him.

Dean wrapped his arm around her waist, feeling her softness and resilience, his palm unconsciously caressing her smooth, milky-white skin.

She was light, her bones delicate, but her figure was graceful.

Her fair, refined face bore none of the freckles so common among Westerners.

Caroline tucked her hair behind her ear, savoring his touch, a shy smile coloring her face.

“I just realized you’re different from all the other immature high school boys. You’re so much more than just a songwriter, more than—”

“But promise me, okay? Next time you rush into danger, at least… write a song for me first?”

…

After another five minutes of spirited conversation, Dean watched as Caroline, cheeks flushed, left the room.

…

The hospital room was quiet once more.

Dean finally had the peace to reflect on yesterday’s gains.

Dean Lu

Character Level: 0 (90/100)
Age: 18
Physique: 11.5
Strength: 10.5
Agility: 11.5
Perception: 9
Spirit: 12.1
Willpower: 11 → 11.2

Abilities (3/5):
Combat lv1 (65/200)
Shooting lv0 (25/100)
Shadow of the Past lv0 (4/100)

Specialty:
Novice Iron Man

Events: 0/1
Completed——
1. The Death of Young Dean.
2. Mona’s Whereabouts.
3. Hunt (Reward Pending)

…

“A life-or-death battle yields far more than daily training—my willpower increased by 0.2, combat and ranged weapon proficiency rose by dozens of points, and even the perpetually stagnant ‘Shadow of the Past’ gained three points.”

“Combat truly is the best teacher,” Dean mused.

The lakeside gunfight proved that killing targets using combat or shooting was the most effective way to gain proficiency.

But Dean couldn’t quite grasp why—was it extracting the skill experience and proficiency from the dead?

In any case, killing those villains who turned their weapons on innocents gave Dean no psychological burden whatsoever.

With that in mind, he took out a carton of yogurt, drinking as he mulled over the experience.

His combat skills had been invaluable, providing him with the inspiration to handle emergencies and escape danger time after time.

But the real deciding factor had been “the Shadow”—his superpower.

This life-and-death struggle was proof—

Against ordinary people, even those with military training and combat prowess, unless they happened to use fire against the Shadow, it was an unsolvable bug for them.

“Hmm, the Shadow will remain my focus for daily training; of course, I can’t neglect combat and shooting either.”

…

Dean’s eyes fell on the event “Hunt.”

Simple difficulty, 80 experience points, slightly more than last time’s “Find Mona,” which was also simple difficulty but only gave 60.

Was it because this one was more dangerous?

Dean guessed that all simple-difficulty events would never reward more than 100 experience points.

Extract!

Personal Experience +80, Personal Level lv0→lv1 (70/200)

Whoosh—

A familiar, electric warmth surged through his body.

Dean watched as a barrage of notifications flashed before his eyes—

You have increased your personal level. You’ve taken a new step, proving your strength.

You have gained 1 attribute point.

As this is your first level up, you have also gained a system ability—

Dean glanced over.

In the system, a new section had appeared after Abilities, Specialty, and Events: System Ability—

God’s Eye View lv0

Perception: You can observe anything within a five-meter radius of yourself at will.

Physical obstacles cannot block God’s Eye View.

Recording: From now on, the system will faithfully record all images, sounds, smells, and events around you.

Page 3 of 3

You can review these recordings anytime, anywhere—scrutinizing details, analyzing, unraveling, and searching for useful clues.

Note: The system ability consumes no resources but does not grant proficiency. It levels up in sync with your personal level but does not yield attribute rewards when upgraded.

…

Dean was a little disappointed. From the description, the system ability was nothing more than a portable, round-the-clock camera.

It just didn’t occupy one of his three out of five ability slots.

“Never mind, let’s focus on getting stronger.”

Without hesitation, he directed his attention to the newly acquired attribute point.

Spirit: 12.1→13.1

In an instant, a cool breeze swept across his temples.

It was as if invisible tendrils of energy permeated the air, penetrating his skull and gently kneading, massaging his cerebral cortex. A tingling sensation blossomed.

Like a thousand tiny ants scurrying across his brain.

Hiss—

Bliss!

Dean lowered his head, clenched his eyes shut, and let out a low growl, his ten fingers and toes stretched ramrod straight.

The sensation came quickly and faded just as fast.

Gone in five seconds.

When Dean opened his eyes, it seemed as if bright flames danced in his black pupils.

Combat, shooting, the Shadow of the Past, math problems, drawing skills, ideas, and even the recent intimate moments with Caroline—all these memories flooded his mind.

A torrent of strange, uncontrolled thoughts surged and surfaced.

“Spirit represents thought, soul, emotion.”

“With higher spirit, my mind grows livelier, emotions richer and more sensitive.”

“And most importantly, with increased spirit and spiritual power, my trump card, ‘Shadow of the Past,’ will only grow stronger!”

…

Dean checked the hospital room, making sure there were no cameras—hidden pinhole devices didn’t exist in this era.

Then, with a thought, a sudden gust whipped through the peaceful room, sending the curtains flying.

The fan overhead trembled on its hinges.

A black phantom abruptly hovered around the fan, moving swiftly against its rotation.

“Power and speed have only increased slightly.”

Dean checked the clock, noting the time.

Whoosh—

Like a bird taking flight, the “Shadow” soared out the window, striving for the pitch-black night sky, only to slam into an invisible wall of air, unable to go further and circling in place.

“Hmm, the maximum distance has increased from ten to about thirteen meters—a leap, and not a linear growth.”

“And the duration?”

“From five minutes to six, with energy to spare—I reckon it could last up to six and a half.”

A single point of spirit brought a considerable improvement.

And with superpowers, even the tiniest gain could mean life or death.

Dean was pleased.

“Shadow, do you feel stronger now?” Dean looked at the shadowy, fog-wreathed figure standing in the center of the room. The latter gave him a puppet-like, vacant gaze.

“Seems Shadow’s intelligence hasn’t changed—maybe it’ll get smarter when the skill levels up.”

He withdrew the Shadow.

His focus shifted to the newly unlocked system ability, “God’s Eye View.”

Activate.

His vision went dark and spun.

When he opened his eyes, he was staring at a massive head of black hair—his own scalp, shoulders, and the pristine hospital bed beneath.

“What a strange angle. Change!”

Suddenly, Dean saw his own face. He had to admit, after the baptism of blood and fire, his features had grown more masculine, more resolute.

But his chin was still smooth—he looked, for the most part, a teenager.

Then his back, his sides, under the bed—

Dean experimented with it for half an hour, delighted.

He discovered that what God’s Eye View observed was not limited by his own senses.

Within a five-meter radius centered on him, he could observe images, sounds, smells, temperature, and other subtle details, regardless of his own hearing, sight, or smell.

Even from his bed, he could see the floor beneath.

Through the wooden hospital room door, he could see nurses passing by in the hallway and smell the rose perfume they wore.

“God’s Eye View—perceptive like x-ray vision, but only five meters.”

Even when Dean closed his eyes and blocked his ears and nose, he could still observe his surroundings through the ability.

And it could record—not just observe.

It would automatically and continuously record everything happening around Dean.

He could replay it from any angle, at any time.

“It’s more flexible than I expected—the experience far surpasses even VR games from decades in the future. Actually, God’s Eye View is a bit like the ‘braindance’ recordings from Cyberpunk 2077 in my past life: I can trigger it anytime, but I can’t zoom in or out, and if it’s too dark, I can’t see, too quiet, I can’t hear.”

“Even when I sleep, it keeps running.”

“In extremely dangerous situations, I can use this function to record my environment and monitor for spies.”

“I can covertly observe what’s behind me to guard against stalkers.”

“I can even check inside someone’s clothes to see if they’re carrying concealed weapons.”

The effects of heightened spirit were already showing.

In just a short time, Dean’s mind was brimming with inspirations for using “God’s Eye View,” and his initial disappointment faded away.

“When used cleverly, even an auxiliary function can make a huge difference!”

…

The quiet hospital room.

Dean checked his abdominal wound—stitched and bandaged. Just to be safe, he wouldn’t overexert himself.

So he continued experimenting with “God’s Eye View,” summoning the Shadow, refueling with food, and pondering how to handle the impending scrutiny from the police or FBI.

The night passed by, almost without notice.

…