The street was a mess of glass and silence.
The SUV's tires had left black smears on the concrete, curving away from the scene like a signature. The air still buzzed faintly with the heat of headlights, old smoke, and the copper tang of fresh blood. Broken bottles shimmered under the flickering light. Someone's sneaker sat in the gutter, still upright, like it hadn't realized its owner had fled.
Lex stood there, hoodie torn at the elbow, shoulder aching, knuckles sore. The box cutter hung loose in his right hand, edge smudged. It looked smaller now—less like a weapon, more like a tool he'd just happened to use the right way. He didn't open his mouth. Didn't blink. Just breathed through his nose, slow and even, letting his body catch up to what had happened.
Kevlar was a few feet away, crouching by Tone, who was cussing with every breath, his ribs clearly fucked. Another 16th kid sat with his back against the grocery gate, head tilted, dazed but upright.
The others were already talking like it was a story.
"Yo, that kid with the hoodie—Lex, right?—he went right for the leg, yo. Rico's boys weren't ready for that."
"Nah, nah, he ain't even flinch. Hit dude twice."
Lex didn't respond. He didn't need to. He just watched Kevlar wipe blood from his brow with the inside of his sleeve and walk toward him.
No rush.
No big movements.
Just steady steps and that same unreadable stare.
Kevlar stopped a few feet away, still breathing heavy. His nose was swollen, bottom lip split clean in the middle, one knuckle skinned raw.
"You ever fight before?" he asked.
Lex shook his head once.
Kevlar didn't nod. Didn't disbelieve either. He just squinted, studying Lex like a mechanic checking a new engine. Something too quiet to be safe.
"You moved like you seen it all before," he said.
Lex didn't answer. The System pulsed again, behind his eyes.
[DIALOGUE FLAGGED: Key Interaction – Kevlar]
Possible Outcomes:– Shrug it off (Low XP)– Lie: "I've been in scraps" (Neutral)– Partial Truth: "I see things quick" (XP Bonus)– Ask a Question: "You always lead like that?" (Triggers Social Bond flag)
Selected: Partial Truth
Lex tilted his head just a bit, locking eyes.
"I see things fast," he said quietly. "I react."
Kevlar sniffed, blood dripping from his nostril. "Yeah. I saw."
He reached into his pocket, pulled out a crushed pack of Newports. Tapped one out, lit it with shaking fingers, took a long drag.
"You in anything?" he asked.
Lex knew what he meant.
"No."
Kevlar exhaled smoke slow, watching it curl. "You will be."
A pause.
Not a threat. Not a question. Just… something in the air.
Then Kevlar pointed at the blood on Lex's hands. "You should clean up. But keep that energy. You moved smart. Quiet. We need more of that."
Lex nodded once.
Kevlar didn't wait for a reply. He turned and walked back toward Tone, muttering something about getting him to Corey's before the cops circled back.
Lex stood there one more second.
Then turned and walked.
The sidewalk felt different under his shoes now. He noticed the rhythm of his steps. The way his footfalls echoed off building walls. The subtle twitch in his shoulder from where the bat had grazed him. It wasn't pain—it was information.
He passed a bus stop with shattered glass in the bench frame. Ads for Boost Mobile and stolen-tax services flapping loose in the wind. A man stood there wearing a polo three sizes too big, talking into a broken phone, not realizing—or not caring—it didn't work.
Lex walked past a fire hydrant still wet from last night's uncapped rinse. He dipped his hands into the runoff, let the cold sting into his cuts, watched blood swirl into the grime.
He let the box cutter rinse too, then tucked it into his waistband behind his back. Still cold. Still useful.
The System shimmered.
[Combat Summary – Updated]
XP Gained: +87Current Level: 2XP: 144 / 200
HP: 24 / 27
Skill Progress:– Close Quarters I → (93% to II)– Pain Resistance I → (72% to II)– Combat Awareness I → (63%)– Precision I → Unlocked
New Perk Opportunity AvailableWould you like to assign a Perk?→ YES | NO
He blinked. The window faded. Not yet. Not here.
Lex passed under the overpass, tagging the edge of a chain-link fence with his shoulder. The neighborhood shifted as he moved. Less light, more silence. Past the used tire shop with no cars, the bodega where the window was always cracked, the barbershop with the "$7 Fades" sign written in two different handwritings. The city held him like a glove, and now it fit better than ever.
He cut across the corner by the basketball courts, heard a whistle and distant sneakers on concrete. A game going, late-night run, voices echoing with that mix of joy and hunger only real players had. But he didn't stop. He didn't even glance.
He reached the back entrance to his building.
No lights in the stairwell.
Perfect.
He climbed slow, careful to avoid the creaky step on the third landing. Passed Mrs. Cotto's door—still smells like Vicks and gossip. Then 6C.
He knocked once, soft. Then again.
The door opened a crack. The chain didn't.
His abuela peered through, hair wrapped, eyes tired.
"Malek?"
"Yeah."
"You're bleeding."
"Not bad."
She unlocked the chain and let him in. The hallway light hummed overhead. TV still on. Rice smell lingering from hours ago. Novela rerun playing to no one.
She pointed at his arm. "You get jumped?"
"No."
"You jump someone?"
"No."
"You lie worse than your father."
She shuffled off before he could say anything.
He ducked into the bathroom, turned on the cold tap, ran water over his shoulder, then peeled off the hoodie. The cut was shallow, already clotting. Purple bruise forming. He rinsed it anyway. Winced, once.
The mirror was fogged at the edges. He caught a glimpse of his face—blank, quiet, eyes rimmed red from wind and tension. He didn't look tough. He looked awake.
The System whispered again.
[Perk Selection – Available]
Choose One:
Urban Predator: +10% to Perception during night. Reduces detection chance in city environments.
Instinctive Counter: First enemy melee attack each fight has a 25% chance to trigger an automatic dodge.
Steel Nerves: Immune to panic effects. Moderate resistance to fear-based skills or crowd pressure.
Lex stared at the options. They glowed soft blue in the mirror, hovering over his shoulder like a reflection that didn't belong to the room.
No fanfare. No sound effects.
Just truth.
He thought: Instinctive Counter.
[Perk Assigned: Instinctive Counter]
A real fighter doesn't think first. He moves.– Your first dodge in any fight may now trigger automatically.– +2% to dodge baseline.
Lex exhaled through his nose.
He grabbed a rag, wiped his hands, and left the bathroom light on behind him.
Out in the living room, his abuela had already nodded off in her chair. Remote in her lap. Blanket sliding down her legs.
He pulled it back up gently, careful not to wake her.
Then he sat on the couch, staring at the ceiling fan that hadn't spun in months.
The block had changed tonight.
Or maybe it was always like this—and he was only just now seeing it right.