Aiden burst out of his building’s entrance and imdiately stopped.
’A cab won’t work. They’ve got the whole area blocked off. No vehicles getting through.’
He could run. Peak Qi Gathering Realm gave him enhanced speed and stamina. While he could probably sprint the distance in ten minutes.
But there was a problem.
’I haven’t received my cultivation progress yet, i’d be extrely tired by the ti i get there.’
The synchronization. The system had ntioned it before—abilities from narrative worlds took ti to fully integrate with his physical body. He’d been back for less than an hour. His cultivation might still be transferring.
Which ant he was running on whatever physical ability his real body had. Which was... not great. Better than a normal person, sure, but not "sprint several kiloters through London while dodging traffic" good.
Aiden’s eyes drifted upward.
The rooftops.
A crazy idea ford in his head. Absolutely insane, reckless and stupid.
’Fuck it. Crazy ideas are all I have left.’
He turned and ran back into the building, ignoring the confused look from a neighbor in the hallway. He found the stairwell and took the steps three at a ti.
Six floors. His building only had six floors and he quickly got to the roof.
Aiden shoved the door open and stepped onto the roof.
London spread out before him—a sea of buildings, rooftops, streets packed with afternoon traffic. In the distance, maybe three kiloters away, he could see the dark energy of the twin dungeon breaks rising into the sky like pillars of shadow.
’Alright. Here goes nothing.’
Aiden walked toward the edge of the building. Six stories up, maybe twenty ters. The street below looked very far away and very hard.
He took a breath, centered himself, then channeled whatever qi he could access into his legs.
The energy responded sluggishly—definitely not at full strength—but it ca. His legs felt stronger, lighter.
Aiden bent his knees, coiled his muscles like a spring, and jumped.
The rooftop beneath his feet cracked. Chunks of concrete exploded outward from the force. And Aiden launched into the air like a rocket.
For three glorious seconds, he soared. The wind whipped past his face, his stomach dropped. The adjacent building rushed toward him.
Then gravity rembered he existed.
’Shit—’
Aiden’s upward montum died and he started falling. The next building’s rooftop was still five ters away.
’Phantom Step!’
His body blurred mid-air. The movent technique activated instinctively, propelling him forward those last five ters. His feet hit the next rooftop hard, his knees buckling from the impact, but he stayed upright.
’Holy shit. That actually worked.’
Aiden looked back at his building, at the cracked rooftop. The impossible distance he’d just jumped.
’I’m superhuman. I actually jumped between buildings.’
No ti to celebrate. He turned toward the location of the dungeon breaks and ran.
The next gap was narrower. He jumped without thinking, Phantom Step carrying him across. Then another building, and another.
It was crude, inefficient. He nearly fell twice when he mistid a jump. But it worked.
Aiden ran and jumped, ran and jumped, crossing London’s rooftops like so kind of budget superhero. Below him, people walked oblivious, cars honked, life continued normally.
Above them, a man parkoured his way across the city.
Three kiloters beca two. Then one.
As he got closer, Aiden pulled the black demon mask from his pocket and secured it over his face. The sa one that had gone viral after Westfield. The sa one Titan Guild was offering fifty grand to identify.
’Can’t let anyone see my face. Not now.’
The final jump brought him to a building overlooking the barricade. Six stories up. He could see everything from here.
Police barriers blocked the streets. Soldiers in tactical gear ford defensive lines, news crews fild from safe distances and pushing against the barricade, still screaming, was his mother.
Aiden didn’t hesitate. He walked to the edge and jumped.
Six stories straight down.
The ground rushed up fast, too fast, his stomach lurching.
At the last second, Aiden channeled qi into his legs and used Phantom Step to slow his descent. He hit the pavent hard—hard enough to crack the concrete—but rolled with the impact and ca up standing.
The soldiers nearest to him spun around imdiately, rifles raised, fingers on triggers.
"WHO’S THERE, HANDS UP!"
Aiden raised his hands slowly. "Easy. I’m here to help."
More rifles pointed at him. Red laser sights danced across his chest.
Then a voice cut through the tension. "HOLD FIRE!"
A man in an officer’s uniform pushed through the soldiers. Middle-aged, graying hair, eyes sharp despite the stress lines around them. His rank insignia marked him as a commander.
He stared at Aiden for a long mont. At the demon mask, at the way he’d just jumped from a six-story building and walked away.
"You," the commander said slowly. "You’re the one from Westfield. The video."
Aiden nodded once.
The commander’s expression shifted. Not relief exactly, but sothing close. He gestured to his soldiers. "Stand down. He’s not a threat."
The rifles were lowered slowly..
The commander approached Aiden directly. "You here to help?"
"I am."
"Good. Because we’re fucked." The commander’s bluntness was refreshing. No political talk or bureaucracy. Just honesty. "Twin dungeon break. E-rank and B-rank gates. Most of the major guilds declined our request for assistance."
Aiden’s jaw tightened behind the mask. "They declined?"
"Said it wasn’t worth the risk for the payout. Titan Guild wanted triple their usual rate. Silver Fang Guild said they were ’indisposed.’ The Iron Ward Guild didn’t even respond." The commander’s voice dripped with bitterness. "Thankfully Hunter Association dispatched a team, but they were inford at the last minute. Won’t be here for at least thirty minutes."
Thirty minutes. In a dungeon break, that might as well be forever.
"What about the residents?" Aiden asked.
"Most evacuated successfully. We’ve got maybe a dozen holdouts refusing to leave their hos." The commander paused. "And one man trapped inside. His wife’s been at the barricade screaming for soone to help."
Aiden’s chest tightened. He already knew who that was.
He turned and spotted his mother imdiately. She’d stopped screaming, but tears still stread down her face. Her hands gripped the barricade so hard her knuckles were white.
Aiden walked toward her, each step deliberate, careful. He couldn’t let her recognize him, couldn’t let his voice give him away.
"Ma’am," Aiden said, pitching his voice lower, rougher than normal. "I’m going to get your husband out."
His mother’s head snapped up. Her eyes—red from crying, desperate—locked onto his masked face.
"Please," she whispered. "Please, he’s still in there. He has a bad leg, he can’t run—"
"Where’s your house?"
"Whitechapel Road. Number forty-seven, red door, second floor flat." The words tumbled out of her in a rush. "Please, I’ll pay anything—"
"I don’t want paynt." Aiden’s hands clenched into fists. "I’ll bring him back. I promise."
He turned back to the commander. "I’m going in."
The commander nodded grimly. "Good luck. And be careful. The E-rank gate is manageable, but the B-rank..." He shook his head. "Sensors are picking up dozens of B-rank creatures. Maybe more. And there’s an A-rank reading near the center."
An A-rank monster. He didn’t know how to classify them to his cultivation powers.
’I’m barely at peak Qi Gathering. And that’s if my powers have fully transferred.’
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