Healing System

He took a breath, cracked his neck, and leisurely walked toward the alley.

As he got closer, the sound of struggling got clearer, grunts, shouts, a few glass bottles smashing against the walls.

When he turned the corner, he saw three guys ganging up on a single kid, who looked like a teenager, maybe sixteen at best, curled up on the ground trying to protect a small bag clutched to his chest.

It was a classic back on his world.

"Yo," Michael called out, hands in his pockets. "Is this one of those 'beat up the orphan for fun' type of things, or are we pretending he owes you money?"

The three thugs turned to face him. One of them even had the nerve to sneer.

"Fuck off. This doesn't concern you."

Michael raised a brow. "See, now I gotta intervene just on principle. You messed up your one-liner."

Another bigger guy, with a scar running down his face, stepped forward and cracked his knuckles. "You looking to get hurt?"

Michael smiled, and then let out a chuckle.

"Nah. But you are."

He didn't even move.

Chaos burst from under his feet like a ripple in the air, and the three men froze mid-step, their eyes going wide as their bodies locked up.

Michael walked over casually, knelt beside the kid, and tapped his shoulder. "You good?"

The teen stared at him with widened eyes, then nodded quickly. "Y-Yeah... thanks, mister."

Michael stood back up, glanced at the frozen thugs, then snapped his fingers. Just like that, the chaos receded.

The three men collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

Michael nudged one with his boot. "Consider that your nap for the week."

He turned back to the kid, who was still shaking. "Go home. Don't hang around alleys unless you're into some real weird shit."

The kid scrambled to his feet and took off without a word.

Michael didn't blame him. He would've run too if he saw someone knock people out without lifting a finger.

Back on the street, the air smelled like meat and sugar. Something between smoked ribs and candy apples.

Michael figured he had time for one more snack before heading back.

He spotted another stand that was selling something on skewers, some mix of meat and vegetables slathered in sauce. Smelled good, looked better.

He bought a few, munching as he wandered past a line of dancers forming a circle near a large fire pit.

Still, even with the food, the festival was starting to wear thin. It was loud, crowded, and everyone looked way too happy, like they didn't know a giant purple tower could pop them like grapes if it felt like it.

Michael moved through the crowd, occasionally brushing past someone or ducking a twirling arm from a drunk noble doing a poor excuse for dancing.

"Watch it," he muttered as a lady in heels nearly stumbled into him.

She just laughed, didn't even hear him. Or didn't care.

Eventually, he found a quiet corner of the festival, right near the edge of a building with a view of the rest of the city.

Leaning against the wall, he let out a breath and finally just stopped.

Wasn't often he got to do that.

No fighting. No betrayal. No system messages yelling at him for taking a piss too long. Just... quiet.

Didn't last, of course.

A notification appeared in the corner of his vision, causing his eyes to widen in shock.

[Chaos Absorption: Passive effect activated.]

[Nearby ambient mana detected. Minor power gain.]

[+0.01% Core Sync Progression.]

What the fuck? I thought... nah, nevermind. I didn't even expect something like this to happen, Michael thought with a sigh. Though a core? What fucking core?

He had grown pretty damn confused ever since he got this thing, and these notifications didn't help.

But if he was being honest, the Chaos affinity was starting to feel a bit too comfortable. It responded to him faster than the other affinities ever did.

Still, he couldn't help but wonder if it was messing with him in ways he hadn't noticed yet.

Nonetheless, that could wait.

He turned his attention back to the street just as a group of musicians passed by, followed by what looked like a bunch of kids wearing oversized masks shaped like animals.

One of them stumbled and dropped his mask, revealing a pale, sweaty face underneath. Michael caught a glimpse, kid didn't look sick. He looked scared.

But then he put the mask back on and kept marching with the rest, pretending nothing was wrong.

Michael frowned.

Odd. But not his problem. There were a bunch of other healers that could help him.

He pushed off the wall, dusted himself off, and started walking again. He figured he might as well check the east side of the Gala before heading back to the inn.

He passed by more stands. More food. More weird mask parades. One guy was selling glowing worms in jars and calling them "fortune bugs." Another was juggling axes while shouting about free drinks.

Same vibe. Same chaos. But it felt... stretched, like the city was trying a little too hard to act normal.

Michael didn't like it.

But whatever. He had his food. He had his peace. He wasn't about to ruin it just because something felt off.

Still, just in case, he reached into his jacket and quietly summoned a shard of Chaos into his palm. The small orb pulsed like a heartbeat before disappearing into his coat sleeve.

A precaution which he had begun to take ever since earlier. Just in case.

Then, from somewhere behind him, a loud crash echoed through the alley he'd just passed.

Michael froze as It didn't sound like a cart tipping over. More like… stone cracking.

He turned his head slightly. People around him didn't react. They either didn't hear it, or pretended not to.

He looked over his shoulder.

The alley was dim, partially blocked by stacked crates and a cloth tarp fluttering in the breeze.

Another crash followed. Then silence.

Michael let out a slow breath.

"Every damn time," he muttered, already walking toward it.

He stepped into the alley, his footsteps quiet. The air shifted a little, colder here, probably just the shade, but his instincts flared anyway.

As he got closer, he saw the crates had been pushed aside. Something had barreled through them.

More scuff marks on the ground. Dragged footprints. One deep crack across the stone wall.

And then he heard it.

Breathing that didn't belong to a human.

Michael crouched and peered around the last corner.

There was something hunched over near the far end of the alley, back turned to him. Covered in a rough cloak, its frame was bulky, too bulky to be anything normal.

It sniffed the air.

Michael didn't say anything. He just summoned another Chaos thread between his fingers.

But before he could act, the creature, whatever it was, turned its head.

Half its face was melted.

Not burned. Melted. Like it had been dipped in acid and frozen halfway through the process.

Its eye twitched, and then it stood up slowly.

Since its figure was so lanky and, it looked like it wasn't used to standing upright.

Michael stepped into full view, ready to act.

The creature growled.

"You've got five seconds to walk away," Michael said flatly. "Otherwise, I'm taking your other half too."

However, he received no response.

Instead, the creature reached into its cloak.

Yet before anything drastic could happen, Michael snapped his fingers.

The alley flared with silver-black energy as Chaos burst outward. Everything within ten meters of him froze in mid-motion, like time had been yanked to a stop.

Except the creature kept moving.

Michael blinked. "Oh."

That was new.

The thing charged, lurching forward with unnatural speed.

Michael ducked low, rolled under its swing, and fired a blast of Chaos point-blank into its side.

It screamed, if that noise even counted as a scream, and was thrown into the wall.

Chunks of stone cracked behind it, but it didn't fall.

Instead, it started laughing.

Michael's eyes narrowed.

"You're not from around here, are you?" he muttered, gathering more energy into his palm.

The thing didn't answer. It just rushed again.

This time, Michael didn't dodge.

He reached out and touched it.

For a split second, Chaos surged through the thing's body, and then unraveled it.

Like thread being pulled from a sweater.

It didn't explode. Didn't vanish. It just… stopped existing. Piece by piece.

And then it was gone.

Michael stood alone in the alley, surrounded by bits of broken wall and scattered crates.

He waited. Listened.

Nothing else came.

He exhaled.

"Definitely not from here."

After a moment, he walked back out into the street, brushing dust off his shoulder.

Everyone was still dancing. Laughing. Pretending like the world wasn't crawling with weirdos and monsters just a few steps away.

Michael didn't bother warning anyone.

If something else showed up, he'd deal with it then.

For now, he had more food to try.