Ability Stealer

Andrew wiped his hands on the coarse grass, the scent of monster remains still lingering in the air. He thought about accessing the system, focusing his mind on it. Instantly, the interface appeared before him—several floating circles.

His gaze fell on the one labeled 'Inventory,' and he hesitated for a moment, then pressed his finger against it. The circle seemed to shift, expanding outward as though he were looking into another dimension.

Andrew threw the cores into the inventory.

They all vanished into the space beyond, as though being absorbed into another dimension. He repeated the action with the remaining cores, each one disappearing with the same satisfying pull. He watched, fascinated, as they disappeared.

He looked up at Mella, who seemed completely unbothered by the gore-streaked ground beneath her feet.

"So," Andrew asked, brushing himself off. "What's next?"

Mella stretched lazily. With a flick of her wrist, she made a quick, practiced motion in the air, and a curved sickle materialized in her hand. The transition was seamless, as if the weapon had simply coalesced from the surrounding atmosphere.

"We collect cold-pol," she said, testing the weight of the sickle. Its metal glinted faintly, catching the dim sunlight that filtered through the tree canopy. "It's a plant that releases cold pollen. Barely worth the effort, but since we're here…"

Andrew raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He followed her as they made their way through the forest, the crunch of twigs and leaves beneath their boots filling the silence. They passed towering trees whose thick trunks were clawed and gouged—evidence of beasts marking their territory. In the distance, Andrew caught glimpses of some of these creatures. Feral shapes moved among the shadows, their movements quick and predatory.

"We got lucky finding monsters earlier," Mella remarked without looking back. "This area's close to the city, so it gets picked over pretty fast."

When they reached a small clearing, Mella gestured to a cluster of plants. They looked like cotton bushes but with tufts of soft blue fibers instead of white. She swung her sickle with precision, cutting at the base of the stems and catching the pollen-heavy bundles as they fell.

"Like this," she handed her sickle to him, while holding up her harvest for Andrew to see. "Don't let the pollen get into your face. It's cold, not cold enough to give you frostburn though."

Andrew nodded, summoning his own sickle. The process felt more awkward for him; the sickle's weight was strange in his hand, and his swings were clumsy in comparison to Mella's smooth movements. Mella glanced over at him occasionally, offering small corrections.

"No, not like that," she said at one point, her voice laced with a mix of impatience and encouragement. "Use your wrist more—less force, more finesse."

Andrew adjusted his grip, trying to mimic her movements. "Like this?" he asked, giving it another attempt. The sickle bit cleanly into the base of the plant, and he managed to catch the pollen-heavy bundle before it fell.

Mella nodded approvingly. "Better. You'll get the hang of it. Just keep practicing."

Andrew couldn't help but smirk, a hint of pride sneaking through despite his earlier struggles. "You make it look easy," he muttered.

"Well, I've done this for a while," she said with a shrug. "Don't worry. You're doing fine."

Still, he managed to collect a decent number of the cold-pol plants without too much trouble. As each bundle was harvested, he stored it in his inventory, the system interface making the process as simple as dragging and dropping files on a computer. Mella watched as he carefully placed each bundle into his inventory, raising an eyebrow.

"You're getting used to the system, huh?" she commented.

Andrew shrugged. "It's... different. But yeah, I think I'm getting the hang of it."

"Good," Mella said, giving him a small smile. "You'll need that kind of efficiency out here."

Once their work was done, they headed back toward the sea. The forest began to thin, the trees giving way to rocky ground and the sound of crashing waves. Andrew and Mella walked side by side, Mella occasionally pointing out landmarks or small creatures that scurried away at their approach.

"See those claw marks on that rock? Probably a Ridgescale trying to sharpen its claws," Mella remarked, nodding toward a boulder with deep gouges carved into its surface.

Andrew glanced at it, raising an eyebrow. "Ridgescale? Sounds dangerous."

"Not really. They're more territorial than anything else. As long as you keep your distance, they'll leave you alone," Mella replied with a shrug.

Andrew smirked. "Good to know. I've had enough trouble for one day."

Mella laughed lightly. "You and me both. This day's been longer than expected."

As they continued walking, the shoreline came into view, but Andrew's focus was drawn to the horizon. The permanent rift loomed ahead, a crackling storm of energy that dominated the landscape. 

Mella glanced at him, noticing his gaze fixed on the rift. "I always wonder if I'll get used to seeing these things."

Andrew shook his head. "I know I wouldn't be able. It looks like it's literally not supposed to be there."

"I'm glad I'm not the only one that thinks so."

"But... if we do these line of work for a long time, it might become more normal than seeing a tree."

"Yeah, I doubt."

A bolt of white electricity suddenly leaped from the rift, striking them

The world shifted.

"That thing never stops being weird," Andrew muttered.

Mella smirked. "Welcome to Riftwork. It's always like this. Just don't get too close unless you want to end up somewhere… unexpected."

As if on cue, a bolt of white electricity leaped from the rift, striking the ground between them. Before Andrew could react, another bolt hit him square in the chest, sending him stumbling backward.

The world shifted.

He was no longer on the shore. The landscape had transformed into a wide plain, dotted with twisted plants. Some had gnarled, bark-like stems, while others bore vibrant red flowers that pulsed faintly, as if alive. The air was heavy, thick with an unnatural stillness.

Mella appeared beside him, shaking her head in frustration. "Damn it. I knew we were too close."

Andrew glanced around. "This… isn't where we came from, is it?"

"No," she admitted, looking slightly sheepish. "It's close, though. These permanent rifts have a way of throwing you off by a few miles sometimes. Sorry—it's my first time being a teacher."

Andrew let out a dry laugh. "Yeah, I could tell."

Mella gave him a sharp look but then shrugged it off. "Come on. The dirt track to Nerthudan isn't far. We'll walk back."

Andrew frowned. "Walk? Can't the system teleport us or something?"

"Nope," Mella said cheerfully. "But if we're lucky, we might catch a ride with someone. It's not that bad."

It turned out to be that bad.

The dirt track stretched for miles under the relentless heat of the sun. Every step kicked up clouds of dry, powdery dust, and there wasn't a single carriage in sight. By the time they reached the gates of Nerthudan three hours later, Andrew's shirt was damp with sweat, and his feet ached from the uneven terrain.

Mella didn't look much better. Her normally brisk demeanor had dulled, and she moved with the sluggishness of someone who wanted nothing more than to sit in the shade and drink something cold.

At the city gates, they presented their Rift Fighter ID cards to the wall guards. The guards waved them through. 

The air was filled with the mixed scents of food, sweat, and metal.

Mella led him to the Rift Tower, a massive structure that loomed over the city. The closer they got, the more imposing it felt, casting a long shadow over the bustling streets below. On one side of the tower was an open-air shop where Rift Fighters weighed and sold their spoils.

The atmosphere was filled with the chatter of fighters negotiating prices, clerks inspecting goods.

Andrew followed Mella's lead, dumping his cores onto the scales. The clerk barely glanced at them before tallying up the weight. "Seventeen pounds," he said to Andrew, handing over a small pouch of coins. "Poor quality cores. Ten bronze per pound." 

Mella received her payment next. Her haul totaled twenty-two pounds, earning her a few more coins than Andrew. She accepted them with a satisfied nod.

"This is like my fourth time doing this," she said, pocketing the money. "Never got any quality above this."

"I'm guessing stronger monsters have higher quality cores," Andrew replied dryly, examining the modest amount of bronze in his hand. It wasn't much, but it was a start.

As they left the tower, Mella turned to him. "Do you have a place to stay?"

Andrew shook his head. "Not yet."

"I figured. Come on—I'll show you some apartments you can rent. Decent places, not too expensive."

He followed her through the winding streets, taking in the sights of Nerthudan without much interest. The city was beautiful around the edges.

By the time they reached their destination, Andrew's exhaustion was catching up to him. Now he wanted a chance to rest. Mella gestured to a row of buildings ahead, their facades worn but sturdy.

"Here," she said. "Pick one. They're all about the same price."