Cursed System Chapter 83: I am a monster

[Quest has been Completed]

[Kill Your Greatest Foe: Gustav]

Those words burned themselves into my vision as the system chid softly, almost gently, as if it weren’t announcing the end of a life that had once cast a long, ugly shadow over mine, and when the reward followed—ten thousand experience flooding into like a tide and a new skill unfolding itself, Silent Walker—I couldn’t help but nod slowly, a faint smile tugging at my lips as I summoned the system interface, my thoughts steady, my heart eerily calm.

The familiar panel blood open before my eyes.

[Host]

[Attributes] [Bloodline, Abilities, and Skills] [Quests: Main, Daily, System] [Shop]

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{Bloodline, Abilities, and Skills}

©Bloodline: Cursed, ?????.

»Dash - Level 2

»Cursed Regeneration - Level 2

»{Immunity to Toxin, Fire, Cold, Illusion} - Level 3

»Cursed nace - Level 1

»Cursed Charm - Level 2

[High-grade ditation technique} acquire]

»Cursed Morph - Level 2

»Cursed tamorphosis - Level 1

»Cursed Eyes - Level 2

»Silent Walker - Level 1

{Movent ability of quiet advancent}

»Earth Manipulation - Level 5

»Fire Manipulation - Level 4

»Wind Manipulation - Level 4

»Water Manipulation - Level 2

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Without hesitation, I called up Bloodline, Abilities, and Skills, and the list unfurled like a confession I could no longer deny.

My cursed bloodline, still shrouded in question marks—alongside abilities that had long since stopped feeling borrowed and had begun to feel natural: Dash, regeneration, layered immunities, nace, charm, morphing flesh and eyes that pierced far deeper than darkness, and now Silent Walker, a movent so quiet it felt like the world itself forgot I was there.

As my gaze drifted downward to the elental skills—earth, fire, wind, water—I exhaled slowly, thinking how ironic it was that these powers, so destructive head-on, were not what defined most, because even now I knew their levels were only so high because of my sub-technique, the deliberate way I had forced myself to use them again and again, carving familiarity into instinct.

What truly changed , however, was Cursed Charm.

As ti passed, my understanding deepened, and I realized it wasn’t mana that fueled it, but ntal fortitude, a frightening revelation that shifted my perspective entirely, because with enough strength of mind I could twist thoughts, guide emotions, plant impulses—temporarily, yes, but with a cost—since a permanent link ford the mont the charm succeeded.

Once linked, I didn’t need to reactivate anything; rely being within a certain range was enough for influence to seep in again, subtle and persistent like a whisper that never quite faded.

Through trial and error, I uncovered its catalysts: eye contact was the first, simple and terrifying; the second ca when curiosity pushed too far—flies, insects, wild animals—and in that mont it dawned on that everything had a mind, not equal, not the sa, but present nonetheless, waiting only for sufficient willpower to be touched or torn open.

With my ntal fortitude growing, my ambitions quietly rose with it, and yet as my fifth birthday approached and the seasons shifted, sothing began to feel wrong.

Pests fled our ho, swarming into the village as if escaping an unseen pressure, and though I was happier than I had ever been—laughing with my family, living days that felt warm and ordinary—unease crept in like a shadow I couldn’t shake, one I tried to dismiss as fatigue, backlash from constant ntal strain, or the lingering links I still held to those boys’ minds.

But the feeling only grew.

That night, sleep took as usual, and then the dream ca—fire everywhere, heat choking the air, my family bound and screaming while I stood immobilized in thick iron chains, helplessly watching as n in black garnts tortured and slaughtered them one by one, and sowhere deep inside my ntal world sothing awakened, sothing ancient, ravenous, overflowing with killing intent, reaching for , demanding control.

When I opened my eyes inside the dream, blood flooded my vision.

Villagers, my family, bodies strewn across the ground, and there—reflected in the crimson pool—stood a silhouette with six glowing red eyes and curling horns, claws where my hands should have been, dripping with blood that was still warm, and from my throat tore a shriek so sharp it split the smoke as a howl echoed through the ruined night.

Then, a voice.

"Ragna... Ragna..."

Muffled at first, growing clearer, softer, dragging back—

I gasped awake, lungs burning, to find Oge standing over , her face pale and confused, staring like she was looking at a stranger, and only then did I realize I was on the floor, drenched in sweat, my body trembling despite my calm expression.

"Are you okay?" she asked, worry cracking her voice.

"I’m fine," I lied, pushing myself up only to stumble, the certainty settling in my chest that the dream wasn’t just a dream—it was a warning, an instinct screaming of sothing terrible approaching.

I knew then that if I was ever going to tell her the truth, it had to be now.

I told her I needed to show her sothing in the woods—sothing important, sothing that couldn’t wait—and as we ran, her questions piled up, fear creeping into her steps while I refused to answer a single one, dashing ahead to ensure we weren’t followed, erasing tracks with movents I could now perform several tis a day.

Once we were deep enough, I stopped.

"First, don’t be scared," I said quietly.

"Second, don’t scream."

"Third, don’t ask questions—I don’t want attention."

I looked at her, t her eyes, and spoke the truth I had been carrying alone.

"I’m a truly a monster," I said, voice steady despite the weight of it, "and I think our lives might be in danger."

She froze.

"Wait—what?"

[Author Notes: I would like to say a big thank you to everyone for reading this novel, and our top fans,I appreciate every comnt, review, powerstones, golden tickets you guys give the book. But we need more.]

[Our hunger grows!]

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