The buildings swallowed sound differently at night.
Lex walked slow beneath rusted fire escapes and torn flags of laundry swaying in the wind. The block behind him was already folding back into its rhythm—cheap cars, muffled arguments, bass rattling windows like a heartbeat too deep to place.
But inside him, the moment hadn't ended.
He still felt it—the weight of Rico's body as it stumbled past him, the heat of blood on his fingers, the insane, impossible floating screen that no one else could see.
He adjusted the strap of his backpack.
His fingers brushed the box cutter still resting inside his hoodie pocket.
Still slightly wet.
The streetlight buzzed overhead, casting warped shadows across the sidewalk. His building loomed in front of him—seven stories of piss-yellow brick and cracked stone, crowned with a busted satellite dish that hadn't worked since Bush's first term.
He hit the intercom twice. It didn't beep. It never beeped.
He shoved the door.
It opened with the usual screech of rusted hinges and stale weed breath.
Building 412 – Morris Ave.Home.
Inside, the stairwell smelled like mop water, mold, and something sour you couldn't quite name. The light above the mailboxes flickered like a dying bug zapper.
Lex ignored the elevator. No one used it after dark. It didn't go past the third floor, and it had pissed itself too many times to trust it now.
He took the stairs.
Each one groaned under his sneakers.
On the fourth floor, someone had duct-taped a pair of foam Jordans to the hallway radiator. No explanation. Just there.
On the fifth, the words "SUCK DICK BITCH" were scrawled across the peeling wall in black Sharpie. Lex passed it like it wasn't even there.
His abuela's apartment sat near the top. 6C. The numbers were missing from the door. They had been since he was twelve.
He knocked twice. Low, soft. Then once more, harder.
A pause.
Then the chain scraped. The door creaked.
Inside: old linoleum. Faded couch. The smell of sofrito clinging to everything like smoke.
"Malek?" his abuela's voice called from inside the kitchen. Spanish, sharp and nasal from decades of cigarettes.
"Yeah, 'Buela."
"You eat?"
"Nah."
"Go get. There's beans in the pot."
He dropped his backpack by the couch. The springs groaned under the weight of it. Or maybe under the memory.
The TV was on. Too loud. Telenovela re-runs from the '90s. Some woman was crying in full makeup, slapping a man who looked like he used to be handsome.
Lex watched it for a second before turning away.
The kitchen light flickered when he stepped in. Only one bulb worked. The pot was still warm, sitting crooked on the old stove burner like it had a limp.
He grabbed a chipped plate from the drying rack, spooned some rice and beans, added a piece of fried salami that was more breading than meat.
No meat fork. Just fingers.
He ate leaning against the counter.
Didn't sit.
Didn't talk.
Didn't think.
But the System was still there. Humming behind his eyes like a second presence, quiet and patient.
He blinked.
And the screen opened again.
[STATS –MALEK (LEX) SANTIAGO – LEVEL 2]
HP: 27/27
EXP: 45/100
Class: None
Strength: 4
Dexterity: 6
Intelligence: 7
Charisma: 5
Perception: 8
Luck: 3
Unassigned Stat Points: 2
Known Skills:• Observe I• Intimidation I• Sprint I• Close Quarters I• Combat Awareness I• Pain Resistance I
Traits:– Unknown Variable– Street-Level
He stared at it, chewing slowly.
Not just at the numbers.
At what they meant.
He could change this.
This wasn't school. Wasn't probation. Wasn't "stay out of trouble" and "apply for retail jobs that pay in insults." It wasn't fate, or luck, or hustle.
It was numbers.
And he could change them.
He thought:
Assign 1 point to Dexterity.Assign 1 point to Perception.
[Stat Increased: Dexterity – 7]Movement speed, reflexes, and stealth improved.You now move slightly faster than average.
[Stat Increased: Perception – 9]Your awareness sharpens.You may now notice ambient cues others miss.
The apartment didn't react. It stayed the same: buzzing light, rice steam, novella cries in the background.
But Lex felt it.
His body. His awareness.
There was a weight in his fingertips now. A lightness in his step.
His shoes didn't creak the kitchen floor anymore. They floated.
He put the plate in the sink. Let the water run over it, just long enough to pretend he was washing.
Then moved back to the couch.
His abuela sat in her recliner, wrapped in three blankets even though it wasn't cold.
Her eyes didn't leave the TV.
"You home early," she muttered.
"Got tired."
"Your hand shaking?"
"No."
"You bleeding?"
Lex looked down.
He'd cleaned the blade. Washed his hands.
Still, he checked his hoodie sleeve.
"No," he repeated.
She didn't ask again.
Didn't say anything else.
The laugh track on the TV punched through the silence like fake joy. Lex leaned back, letting it wash over him.
But the System didn't fade.
It pulsed at the edge of his thoughts like a second heartbeat.
[NEW QUEST: Know the Game]
Learn the System's rules.Objectives:– Assign a Perk– Unlock a Class– Survive 3 Days
Rewards: Access to the Class Tree
Penalty: System Access Suspended
Lex stared at the quest line.
A Class Tree?
Like in video games?
He didn't even play those much. Bones used to talk about "RPG builds" and "stat grinding," but Lex had never cared. Never had time. Real life was hard enough.
But this?
This was real life.
He had no idea how. No idea why.
But he knew this much:
He wasn't going back to being powerless.
Not now.
Not ever again.
Outside the apartment, someone shouted. Footsteps thundered down the hallway. A door slammed on the floor below.
Lex barely blinked.
He leaned forward. Thought: Open Skill Tree.
Nothing.
Open Class Tree.
Still nothing.
He tried again. Harder.
[CLASS TREE LOCKED]
Requirement: Complete Quest "Know the Game"
He exhaled.
His abuela coughed once, dry and deep.
Then fell asleep mid-episode. The remote slipped from her hand.
Lex stood slowly, quietly picked it up, and turned the volume down two bars. Not off.
Just enough.
He walked to the window, pulled the curtain back two fingers wide.
Down below, the block kept breathing.
Same busted Civic. Same streetlight glow. A few dudes out front of the bodega throwing dice against a milk crate. A girl in UGGs laughing too loud on a flip phone.
He could see all of it now.
Every detail.
Every cue.
The System didn't just show numbers.
It sharpened the whole world.
Lex let the curtain fall and whispered, just to himself, almost smiling:
"I see you now."