IV
Charlie Stone strode through the gleaming corridors of Works Amway, his footsteps echoing in rhythm with his anticipation. His future felt as if it were stretching out before him, golden and full of promise. Few could access the SYSTEM—Strategic Yield Synchronization and Tactical Engagement Matrix—but he was one of the chosen. That fact alone set him apart, a mark of providence.
No one really understood how the SYSTEM chose its wielders. Was it genetics, luck, or perhaps something more ethereal? Charlie didn’t care. What mattered was that he had it, and the power that came with it.
He opened his SYSTEM interface with a practiced flick of his hand, the familiar holographic display shimmering before him.
Player: Charlie Stone
Level: 5
Health: 100%
Power: 100%
STATS (Points: 0):
Willpower: 6
Freedom: 6
Fortitude: 6
Empathy: 2
SKILLS (Points: 0):
Fake-Out (Level 3)
Appraisal (Level 2)
Charlie frowned as he stared at his stats. Level 5. It felt embarrassingly low for someone like him, someone who had been trained and groomed for greatness.
His father had insisted on restraint. “Patience,” his father had said countless times. “You’ll level up when the time is right. For now, you must learn to hide you have the SYSTEM for our enemies might target you..”
It was maddening. Charlie hated holding himself back, but he obeyed his father’s wishes. That included mastering Fake-Out, a skill he found useful but unremarkable. It allowed him to mask his level, projecting a facade that fooled even skilled observers.
The Level 1, Owen Hart, had fallen for it without hesitation.
Well, not like pretending to be a Level 4 was particularly deceiving.
The memory of the encounter brought a flicker of unease. Why had his father insisted on involving Owen? Charlie couldn’t see the purpose in such an elaborate deception.
Sighing, he closed the SYSTEM and checked his smartwatch. 5:30 PM. Right on time.
His father had summoned him to his office, the one place in Works Amway where even Charlie tread cautiously. It wasn’t just an office—it was a fortress, a reminder of his father’s immense power and influence.
Straightening his jacket, Charlie made his way to the private elevators that led to the 86th floor. The doors slid open with a soft chime, revealing the sleek interior. He stepped inside, pressing the button for his father’s floor.
As the elevator ascended, Charlie allowed himself a rare moment of reflection. His father’s expectations were crushing, but they were also a source of pride. He would fulfill them. He would become the person his father believed he could be.
The doors to Kristof’s office slid open without hesitation, as if sensing Charlie’s arrival. Stepping inside, Charlie’s eyes briefly flickered to the janitor—no, the Cleaner—who stood off to the side. Despite the gap in their ranks, Charlie nodded respectfully. The Cleaner had been the one to teach him Fake-Out, a skill that had proven invaluable.
Though the Cleaner was technically subordinate in the hierarchy, his presence carried an air of authority. His level was far higher than Charlie’s, and Charlie knew better than to let his pride blind him to the gap in power.
“Father,” Charlie greeted, his voice steady but tinged with excitement. “How may I help you?”
Kristof, seated in a high-backed chair that resembled more of a throne, turned to face his son. The CEO’s youthful visage betrayed nothing of his true age or the immense power he wielded. “A little experiment,” Kristof said with a sly smile, “and an initiation ritual for you.”
The Cleaner stepped forward, his movements deliberate, and handed Charlie a small vial filled with a shimmering blue liquid. Charlie took it hesitantly, holding it up to the light. The liquid inside seemed to glimmer and shift, almost alive.
“What is this?” Charlie asked, his nerves evident despite his best efforts to sound composed.
Kristof leaned forward slightly, resting his chin on interlocked fingers. “A way to raise your level without venturing into the dangerous world outside. Efficient, isn’t it? This method minimizes risk while ensuring growth. Awakening the SYSTEM is rare, Charlie. We cannot afford to waste potential.”
Charlie turned the vial over in his hand, studying it with growing apprehension. Something about it felt... strange. “And you’re sure this is safe?”
Kristof’s gaze sharpened, a subtle but unmistakable warning. “Drink.”
Taking a deep breath, Charlie uncorked the vial and tipped it back. The liquid was sweet and tangy, coating his throat as it went down. Warmth bloomed in his chest and spread outward, filling him with an invigorating sensation.
Charlie instinctively opened his SYSTEM, his eyes widening as he saw the results.
Player: Charlie Stone
Level: 10
Health: 100%
Power: 100%
STATS (Points: 5):
Willpower: 6
Freedom: 6
Fortitude: 6
Empathy: 2
SKILLS (Points: 5):
Fake-Out (Level 3)
Appraisal (Level 2)
His level had doubled. Doubled! Charlie stared at the display in awe, his heart racing with excitement. The implications were staggering. He had jumped from Level 5 to Level 10 in an instant. Along with it came an increase in available stat points and skill points, a boon he hadn’t anticipated.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“Thank you, Father! Thank you!” Charlie exclaimed, unable to contain his gratitude.
Kristof leaned back in his throne-like chair, his laughter echoing coldly through the grand office. “Of course, we are family, aren’t we?”
Charlie hesitated, the warmth of his newfound power beginning to sour. “If you don’t mind me asking, Father… May I ask what role Owen plays in all of this? I did as you asked—I befriended a Level 1, even arranged for him to acquire a Skill Book for Appraisal to lure him into working for Amway.”
A flicker of amusement crossed Kristof’s face as Charlie continued, “What does befriending him have to do with this?”
Skill Books were specialized ITEMs—rare and expensive—that granted individuals the ability to learn specific SKILLs. To most of the world, gaining a SKILL was an event of chance or destiny. But in Owen’s case, the truth was far more calculated.
Charlie smirked as he recalled the deception. Owen had thought his Appraisal SKILL was the result of a natural awakening, a rare occurrence among Level 1s. The truth was that Charlie had hired a sleuth to plant the Skill Book, arranging for Owen to touch it by “accident.” Without access to the SYSTEM, Owen wouldn’t even know the difference.
In truth, people like Owen—NPCs, as players like Charlie called them—were little more than tools. The term itself was a derogatory slur, but it had grown so common in Amway and other places that Charlie hardly flinched when he thought it. Some NPCs were even tricked unaware into servitude using similar schemes. Charlie had always dismissed it as a necessary evil, a means to an end.
But nothing could prepare him for what came next.
Kristof’s smile widened, his voice dripping with cruel delight. “Of course, it was all to improve the quality of the Elixir you just drank.”
“Elixir?” Charlie’s unease deepened.
Kristof chuckled, waving a hand to summon a glowing holographic display. It showed Owen, standing frozen, his body trembling. Then, in horrifying detail, Owen began to crumble. His form dissolved into golden and blue cubes, breaking apart until nothing remained but a swirling mass of blue liquid. The Cleaner stepped into the frame, sweeping the remnants into a vial.
Charlie’s breath caught, his heart racing. “D-did I just… Did I just drink Owen?”
Kristof’s expression didn’t falter, his smile sharp and predatory. “Worth it, wasn’t it? A mere Level 1 empowered you like this! And this is just the beginning. Here in Amway City alone, we have countless others just like him. Cattle! We have so much cattle!”
Charlie staggered backward, the room spinning around him. The warmth of the Elixir now felt like fire coursing through his veins, burning with guilt and revulsion.
“But—” Charlie’s voice cracked, his words faltering. “He was my friend…”
Kristof sneered, his tone scathing. “Friend? Don’t delude yourself, Charlie. Owen was a tool, nothing more. You’ve been blessed with providence. That makes you better than him. You should be grateful.”
Charlie’s hands trembled as he clenched them into fists. The weight of his father’s words crushed down on him, the truth too heavy to bear. Somewhere, deep in his soul, something shifted—a seed of doubt planted in the fertile soil of his horror.
Kristof rose from his seat, looming over Charlie. “Remember this day, my son. This is the price of power. And in this world, power is all that matters.”
Charlie said nothing, his mind racing. He glanced at his SYSTEM, the numbers glowing mockingly back at him.
Level: 10.
For the first time, the sight of his progress didn’t bring him joy.
It brought only… disapointment…
But still ultimately in the end.
“Worth it.”
Charlie sat alone in his sleek sports car, gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white. The hum of the engine was a comforting white noise, masking the storm raging in his mind. He had always been a young master, born into privilege, power, and prestige. Life had been simple—people existed in his world as tools, assets, or obstacles. Few ever breached that boundary to become something more.
Owen had been one of those few.
Not that it changed the fact that Owen was, ultimately, a parasite. Charlie had delighted in tricking him, luring him into the web his father had spun. Befriending Owen had been easy—a fake smile, a few kind words, and Owen had practically fallen over himself to trust him. It had been amusing at first, a game to pass the time. But over the months, something unexpected had happened.
Charlie had grown to like Owen.
It was a twisted, self-serving affection, but it was real in its own way. Owen was like a pet—endearing, loyal, and utterly unaware of the leash around his neck. Charlie had thought that when the time came, Owen’s usefulness would end with some public humiliation, maybe a small punishment to remind him of his place. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined drinking Owen.
And yet, here he was.
The vial’s tangy sweetness still lingered in his mouth, clinging like a bitter aftertaste he couldn’t wash away. The guilt had been sharp at first, a cold dagger of realization that cut deeper than he expected. But guilt, like most emotions, was fleeting. The warmth of the Elixir had spread through his body, the thrill of power washing away the worst of his discomfort.
Still, it wasn’t enough.
Charlie revved the engine and drove, his foot pressing harder on the accelerator than necessary. The streets blurred into streaks of neon as he weaved through traffic, his mind a mess of contradictions. Owen was just an NPC, wasn’t he? That’s what he kept telling himself. But the truth was, Charlie had humanized him.
It was like losing a favorite pet.
When he finally pulled up to his luxurious high-rise apartment, Charlie couldn’t face the silence. He needed a distraction, something to drown out the lingering unease. Without much thought, he grabbed his phone and scrolled through his contacts, stopping at Jasmine’s name.
Jasmine, the naive co-worker who had always eyed his status with thinly veiled admiration, picked up on the first ring.
“Charlie?” Her voice was soft, hopeful.
“Meet me,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
“Of course,” she replied eagerly.
Charlie picked her up, and for the rest of the night, he lost himself in her. They drove to a secluded park and indulged in each other under the stars. Fucked like dogs they did. They found a motel, a rooftop, any place that offered a semblance of privacy. There, they mated like animals. Jasmine clung to him, worshipping the ground he walked on, and for a while, he let himself be consumed by the physical connection.
In a more colorful language, they had sex like crazy that their wet sloppy juices splattered everywhere. Moaning. Gasping. Climaxing. And everything in between.
But no matter how many times Charlie lost himself to pleasure, no matter how many times Jasmine cried his name in ecstasy, Charlie couldn’t shake the shadow looming in the back of his mind.
He had drunk Owen.
Even as he held Jasmine close, her warmth pressing against him, the thought remained.
The guilt may have dulled, but it hadn’t disappeared.
Charlie died that night.
Not because of guilt—he had long since compartmentalized that. Not because he fucked Jasmine too much either; overdosing on sex wasn’t a thing.
No, his end came from something far less poetic and far more terrifying.
The Weave had its own rules, rules few understood and fewer dared to question. Forces far beyond Charlie’s comprehension stirred in its depths. It was as though the very fabric of the Weave decided to remind him—and anyone else watching—that some things were simply off-limits.
Not even the great Kristoff who had survived for so long ever dared imagine.
One moment, Charlie was basking in the afterglow, a smirk on his lips and Jasmine curled against him. The next, the SYSTEM froze.
A blinking message appeared in his vision, glitching and stuttering:
[ERROR: ILLEGAL OPERATION DETECTED. REVERTING.]
“What the—” Charlie barely had time to react before his body seized up.
Golden and blue light erupted from within him, his form fracturing like glass. The pain was instant and overwhelming, his scream strangled as his consciousness unraveled. His level, his stats, his skills—all of it was stripped away in an instant.
If this were the old world, gamers would’ve called it a "stupid patch update" that ruined the fun.
But this wasn’t a game. This was the Weave. And the Weave didn’t care.
When morning came, there was no trace of Charlie Stone.
Instead, what was left was a husk that used to be Charlie Stone, and inside the false data that clung to the SYSTEM was a totally different person. And no, it wasn’t post-nut clarity.