To say it's confusing and disturbing won't give it much accurate description. Witnessing two identical black dragons battling each other, many questions formed in Aron's mind—questions he dreads answering.

The mere act of questioning confirms the doubts swirling within him.

For the first time since his awakening in that dark cave, a first real lead about his past, the first full clear memory he had. However, it turned out that this memory adds even more complexity and mystery on top of the already existing ones.

Two dragons, one is clearly on the 'good' side, shown through acts of helping the humans and other races, as they are... well alive compared to the other side, which is mostly undead and twisted horrifying beasts of flesh.

Aron's vision kept shifting constantly between the two dragons as they fought. This constant shifting affected his mind, and for some reason, he felt his thoughts splitting in two.

Each time the vision shifts, Aron instantly and outside of his control, develops a hatred for the other dragon in the vision. When the vision shifts again, he will hate the other dragon instead. This happened many times, making Aron's mental state unstable.

Closing his eyes, Aron was trying to deal with the headache he was feeling, but then he heard a strange sound—the sound of something sharp cutting through flesh.

The shifting stopped, and Aron's vision was stable. Opening his eyes, he immediately noticed two things.

One, the two dragons changed to humanoid forms. The second thing that gave him the shock of his life.

Aron—or rather the owner of this vision—was stabbing the other man with a sword in the chest, a man who bears a striking resemblance to Aron but younger.

"!!!" Aron's heart skipped a beat the moment his eyes fell on this man. Every fiber in his being recognized him. He knew this man—the word was on the tip of his tongue, but Aron refused to say and acknowledge it. However, that word coming from the man's mouth was the final nail in the coffin.

The man glanced at Aron as if he could see him, displaying a small bloody smile.

"Thank you, brother."Then he fell to the ground with the sword in his chest.

The revelation unfolds, and before Aron can process it, darkness envelops his vision, forcefully pulling him out of the memory.

Returning to the real world, Aron fell to the ground gasping for air. It felt like he was stuck in a tight place for so long without air.

"No, no, no, this isn't true, it's a fake, it has to be." Aron refuses to believe it. How could he? Based on just the last part, Aron may have a brother, but that brother probably was killed by him.

Aron tried to activate the memory core again, but to no avail—the core was a one-time use. Multiple notifications started appearing, but he didn't pay much attention to them. His mind was focused on the things he saw.

"A brother! I had a brother, and I killed him?"

Aron's mind was in turmoil, a storm of emotions raging within him. The revelation he had just witnessed was too much to bear. He couldn't wrap his head around the fact that he might have a brother, and worse, that he might have killed him.

Aron clenched his fists, forcing himself to stand up. His legs began walking without direction, leading him to an unknown fate.

He walked and walked for how long? Aron didn't know. Lowering his head and staring at the ground, Aron didn't care. The only thing in his mind was the image of that man with a sword to his chest.

"Work faster, worm! I'm losing time here, and time is money." A few steps ahead down the road, a person was shouting. A wagon was in the middle of the road with a broken wheel. Someone was trying to fix it, but this angry man towering above him and his constant shouting didn't help at all.

Closing the distance, Aron didn't see them at all, and with his tall figure, he bumped with his left shoulder against the angry man, causing him to fall and hit his face on the wagon's side.

BONK!

"UGHH! My nose, Grrrr, who dares to push me." He turned around and saw a tall man in black armor walking away.

"HEY! Scum, get back here and apologize!"

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However, Aron didn't hear him at all and just kept walking, which caused the man to boil in more anger.

In his hand was a whip which he didn't hesitate to use against Aron, something he shouldn't have done.

The whip has at the end of it three small blades in the shape of claws to inflict the most pain in each hit. The man targeted the ground inches away from Aron; the moment the whip touched the ground, it bounced in a strange way and slashed Aron's left cheek.

The unexpected sharp pain snapped Aron from his daze; he instinctively touched his bleeding cheek. Seeing the blood on his hand, Aron's vision suddenly overlapped with his hand covered in the blood of his supposed brother.

Aron's heart skipped a beat as the lines between the memories and reality blurred. The sensation of blood on his hand felt all too real, triggering a wave of conflicting emotions.

He almost fell to the ground, his mind in turmoil, struggling to distinguish between the past and the present.

"Turn around, Scum, NOW!" The voice was loud and demanding.

Aron glanced back and saw a man holding a whip in his hand. The man was a beast-man, a goat to be specific—brown fur, a pair of curved pointed horns on the top of his head, two yellow eyes with a black vertical-slit pupil.

He was wearing a rather elegant purple suit, a top hat, and a golden monocle. However, the suit wasn't covering all of his lower parts, reaching just to his knees, leaving his goat-like legs exposed.

"Get on your knees and apologize," he shouted again as he smashed his whip, leaving a mark on the ground.

This goat-man, whoever he is, probably did the worst thing in his entire life. He tried to command and act superior over an emotionally unstable dragon, and that was a mistake.

In the next second, Aron began approaching the goat-man, his eyes burning with crimson flame, dark-red mana gathering on his fingertips as he shaped them like claws. Aron didn't notice it, but black scales appeared on his arms; they were small in size, mostly on his forearm with one or two on his hand.

"!!!" The goat-man sensed the danger. Seeing Aron's bloodthirsty eyes fixed on him, he took a step back but regained his composure. Confident in his skills, he tried to slash Aron again with his whip—tried, that is.

Aron raised his left arm, blocking the whip. The whip wrapped around his arm, and Aron used it to pull the goat-man with force toward him.

"WHAT!" he was stunned and unable to react. The amount of force that Aron used was too much for him, leaving him defenseless as he flew in the air, meeting Aron's grip.

Aron grabbed him by the throat, digging his fingers deep and cutting his breath. The goat-man instantly went limp, unable to move at all, his body completely surrendered to his captive.

Aron's intentions were perfectly clear; he wanted to choke this goat-man. He started to squeeze hard little by little, cutting his life support, however.

"Stop! Don't kill him."

A voice came from the side, grabbing Aron's attention. A short man with a long gray beard, short messy hair in the same color, blue eyes, a big old nose, and a rugged appearance that is a sign of hard work.

'A dwarf' Aron immediately recognized the man's race, but that didn't matter much to Aron. Instead, he shifted his sight to the dwarf's arms.

Multiple slash marks covered his forearms, and by the looks of it, many more on his back. Aron frowned and questioned the dwarf. "Why not kill him? It's clear to me that he was slashing you with his whip."

"Yeah, but if you kill him, then I won't get paid, and I need that money, lad."

"Make sense."

"Aye, after I take my money, you can do whatever you like with him. I don't care. In fact, I do wish you would beat him to death; that whip bloody hurt."

Aron glanced at the goat-man again before deciding to use something new.

[Analyzing]

[Power level: E]

'So, this is how it works…this will be useful.'

After his encounter with Number 3, Aron asked the system for a way to measure someone's powers.

After the system analyzed the corrupt data that he could access, he found out that there was a skill that could accomplish that, but unfortunately, it was sealed.

As an alternative, the system offered to use his 'Analyzing' function to try to determine the power; however, this function has two major flaws.

One, it needs physical contact to work, which can put Aron in unfavorable situations.

Secondly, the analysis itself isn't accurate. What the system will do is measure the overall power of a person at that time, so any ability that can boost the power, the system can't calculate that into the overall power level.

The levels are simple and go like this, starting from the lowest [F.E.D.C.B.A.S]

The reason for S is the highest is because of the masked man in the mercenary guild. The system measured his power level at A, but he's probably S.

Aron is D, by the way. He still has a long way to go.

"Hmm... Weak," Aron thought for a moment before bringing the goat's face close to him. He lessened his grip on his throat.

"Hey, you! Pay that dwarf."

"HAAA!" That goat-man didn't hear what Aron said as he felt brief relief to be able to breathe again.

"NOW!"

The goat shivered under Aron's bloodthirsty gaze. He immediately pulled out a small pouch from his pocket and threw it to the ground close to the dwarf.

The dwarf grinned. "Pleasure doing business with you."

Aron then moved his hand above the goat man, grabbing one of his horns.

"This is your punishment for hitting me."

"AHHHH!!" The goat-man screamed in agony because of the sudden unimaginable pain. Aron didn't just break his horn. No, he pulled it out completely, separating the base of the horn that is connected to the skull. The result?

A fountain of blood leaked out of the goat-man's head where his horn used to be.

Aron released his grip, leaving him twitching and screaming on the ground. He ignored him completely and approached the dwarf while searching for something in his pocket.

The dwarf instantly raised his guard, seeing Aron's approach. He tightened his grip on his hammer. However, what Aron did shocked the old dwarf.

Aron pulled out a healing potion and presented it to the dwarf.

"Here for your wounds."

"I…" The dwarf was dumbfounded. The man in front of him literally just pulled someone's horn out of his skull, and that same man is giving him a healing potion for his wounds?

'Does he have two faces? Or is he just like this?' he thought but didn't hesitate to accept the potion.

"Thank lad, I appreciate it."