The Skills Perfector

Jay stood outside Jenn's bedroom door, his hand hovering over the knob. His heart pounded so hard it felt like it was trying to escape his chest. Every rational part of his brain screamed at him to stop—to turn around, to forget this madness before he ended up flattened against the floor again.

But his other instincts, the ones that had grown sharper since awakening, whispered differently. They told him power didn't wait for permission.

He took a deep breath, listened to the sound of water running in the bathroom down the hall, and turned the knob as carefully as he could.

The door creaked open with an agonizing slowness. Jenn's room smelled faintly of clean linen and some sharp herbal oil she must've used on her gear. Sunlight filtered through half-closed blinds, casting long stripes across the floor.

Jay slipped inside, pushing the door just enough to keep it from shutting completely—he didn't dare risk the latch clicking.

Inside, the room was orderly in a way that screamed Jenn. Her bed was perfectly made. A small nightstand held a clock, a half-finished cup of tea, and a stack of field reports with neat annotations in her sharp handwriting.

Jay moved toward the closet first. He found a few sets of combat uniforms, boots polished to a dull shine, a row of belts and weapon harnesses. No hidden compartments. No small locked chests. Just a soldier's wardrobe.

He felt sweat bead on his forehead. The water was still running. He didn't have much time.

Next he checked under the bed—just spare boots and a steel lockbox that rattled faintly when moved. It was locked tight, no obvious key nearby.

He nearly gave up then. The minutes felt like seconds slipping through desperate fingers.

But as he turned to leave, something caught his eye. A large canvas painting hung on the wall—an old landscape of their family home before the demon invasion had torn it down. Jay frowned. The painting was slightly crooked.

He stepped closer, heart racing. With a careful tug, he lifted it off its hook. Behind it, half hidden in the wall, was a small metal door—barely the size of a backpack.

Jay's breath hitched. He pressed his ear against it, listening for any hum of alarms. Nothing. Then he tried the handle.

It turned easily.

Inside was a narrow metal compartment, dark and lined with foam. Several items sat tucked neatly within: a small sealed medkit, two vials of faintly glowing liquid, and—most importantly—a black velvet pouch. The shape was unmistakable.

Jay's hand trembled as he picked it up. He loosened the drawstrings and peeked inside. A faint crimson light shimmered back at him. A Skill Stone.

His pulse roared in his ears. He didn't even know what kind of skill it might contain. It could be anything. But it was a chance to grow stronger, to stop being helpless. Maybe even to stand on equal ground with Jenn someday.

He swallowed hard, trying to ignore the fresh wave of guilt and fear.

Just take it. Get out. Before she—

The water in the bathroom cut off.

Jay froze. Every instinct screamed at him to run.

Jay's hands shook as he pulled the glowing Skill Stone from the velvet pouch. Its crimson light was dimmer than the one Nathan had swallowed in the lab, more like a smolder than a burn. Still, it pulsed with hidden power—power he needed desperately.

The water stopped running. A faint thump followed, maybe Jenn closing the shower door. Panic crawled up Jay's throat. If she caught him here, rummaging through her private stash—

He didn't let himself finish the thought.

Instead, he popped the Skill Stone into his mouth. It was surprisingly smooth, almost slippery, and slid down his throat before he could reconsider.

For a terrifying heartbeat, nothing happened.

Then it hit. A burst of icy energy shot through his chest and limbs, so sudden and intense he doubled over, clutching his ribs. His vision fuzzed out, his ears roared, and he dropped to one knee on Jenn's spotless carpet. He barely managed to stifle a groan, terrified she might hear.

A moment later, a familiar translucent blue screen blinked into existence.

[Skill Stone analyzed…]

[Skill type: Different from current skill path. No Enhancement Points gained.]

Jay's heart sank. Damn. I needed points for Weapon Mastery—

But the next lines made his eyes widen.

[New skill acquired: Invisibility (F)]

[Status: Invisibility (F) - Locked]

[Unlock requirement: Reach Level 10]

Jay blinked, panting, a wild grin breaking across his face despite the sweat beading on his brow.

Invisibility.

He hadn't even known that was possible outside specialized stealth-enhancers. Even if it was locked now, it was his. A promise of something enormous waiting just a few levels away. Much more unique than merely becoming better with swords.

He stuffed the velvet pouch back exactly where he found it, repositioned the other items carefully, then closed the small wall safe and re-hung the painting with trembling fingers.

His pulse raced the entire time he tiptoed out of Jenn's room. The hallway was empty, but he felt hunted, as though her aura might snap the moment she sensed what he'd done.

He shut her door softly behind him, then practically sprinted the last few steps to his own bedroom.

Jay shut his door, leaned against it, and exhaled shakily. His entire body buzzed with adrenaline. He half-expected Jenn to suddenly burst in, eyes blazing, demanding to know what he'd taken.

But the hall remained silent.

He staggered over to his bed and collapsed onto it face-first, breathing in the familiar scent of old laundry and sun-warmed sheets. His muscles finally loosened, the tension bleeding out in waves.

Then he pulled up his system again, eyes scanning over the new addition with a feverish excitement.

[Name: Jay Orlen]

[Level: 1]

[Improvement Points: 0]

[Skills:

Weapon Mastery (F)

Invisibility (F) - Locked (Unlocks at Level 10)

]

[Inventory: Healing Potion x10]

Jay stared at the line about invisibility for a long moment. The thrill was almost too much to contain. He let out a small, breathless laugh, then another—until soon he was laughing outright, one hand covering his mouth to keep from alerting the entire house.

Whoever said "nothing ventured, nothing gained" had been absolutely right.

He'd risked everything—his sister's wrath, maybe even his life—and now he had the start of something incredible. Something that could make sure he'd never be helpless again.

Just as he was wiping tears of half-crazed relief from his eyes, the doorknob behind him turned.

Jay froze, every muscle snapping tight.

The door creaked open. Light spilled in from the hallway.

"Jay?" came Jenn's voice, low and suspicious.

His heart nearly stopped.