The Survival of an Inferior

The "attack" statistic influences the power that one can exert physically. On the other hand, the "defence" statistic strengthens the body into a fortress; The "dexterity" statistic improves reaction time, flexibility, and speed.

All three stats reconstructs the body and in turn, build stamina. 

The "Magic" statistic is the strength and size of the energy core in your body. The higher the magic statistic, the more and better magic one can use. To improve the energy core, the practitioner can absorb mana from the environment or extract it from a material and then use the appropriate technique to integrate the mana. 

"Did you...not tie that rope properly?" one of the men says. 

"I-I did! You even confirmed it!" 

Both of the men back off as I walk closer. I rub my wrists. 

"W-Wait! Boss! We are from Despair...uh...we simply...uh..." 

"Fuck!" one of the men pulls out a knife as last resort. "Stay where you are! Or I will plunge this blade in your neck!"

...

The second man joins in. "Damn it! You are only a mere bastard! Follow us quietly and just let us earn an easy fortune!" 

I sigh as I gaze at the two. They are trembling but pretend to be tough. 

Looking around, I see shelves of boxes and barrels stacked. A single lantern lights the entire small room, I think I am in a storage room. 

...

I channel demonic mana to my right hand. Black mana engulfs my fingers. 

They notice it and widen their eye. "D-Demonic mana?! W-What?"

Before they could react, I am already beside the first man, my hand grasping his chest and blood appearing. 

*BAM!* 

Blood splatters on the wooden crates. My hand dug through his chest and holds a mush of bloody tissues. Blood spits out from the organ, which I assume is the heart. 

"Ngh...he...lp..." blood foams at his mouth before the body falls limp to the ground.

"D-Die!" the second man tries to penetrate the knife into my back. The blade breaks upon contact, grazing only my clothing. 

...

"I-I...am sorry...please don't kill me!" the second man drops the broken knife and backs into a wall. 

"Have you spared your victims?" I ask. 

"I-I will change...please! I will change-"

I swipe my hand across the throat to slit it. The dying man grasps his bleeding neck and holds onto the crate as support. "Ngh...ack...no..." 

*thud* 

The corpse falls to the ground, blood still oozing out. 

...

There are many elements of mana, the most common being: natural mana, fire mana, water mana, nature mana, light mana, and demonic mana. 

Life Force is a type of mana and is classified under nature mana. 

Now then, why is demonic mana deemed unorthodox yet demonic beings are considerably stronger? Because demonic mana is derived from one thing: death. 

When something dies of causes other than old age, the life force residue can be converted to demonic mana. Thus, demonic beings grow stronger when they kill something. In a world full of life, growing stronger is very easy. Just kill.

I extend my hand out. The corpses start to glow green, and the green energy flows out of the body and seeps into my body. 

----------------------

Life Force absorbed.

+0.5 Atk

+0.5 Def 

+0.5 Dex

+0.5 Mag 

---------------------- 

!!!

A rush of adrenaline fills my mind. Exhilaration invades.

I grasp my chest and lean against the bloody wall.

"Huff huff...W-What is going on..." I mumble. 

Why does it feel good?!

Fuck...what the fuck...

Ugh...

I accidentally push the door open and stumble outside. I arrive at an antique shop, full of shiny equipment and collections on display.

The owner behind the desk jolts, a man with short black hair, an untidy beard, and brown eyes.

"You! How did you-" 

He notices my bloody hand and freezes. "I-I..."

A sudden wave of emotions washes me. I get the irresistible urge to kill. 

I swipe my hand and throw a shard of black mana at the owner, barely missing and piercing the painting behind him.

"EEK! I'M SORRY! PLEASE...Don't kill me! I-I have a family! A-A son and daughter...their mother is dead, I am the only one left. Please forgive me! I am just...trying to give them a better life. Please!" the owner says. With trembling arms, he reaches into his pocket and shows me the photo of him with two kids on his shoulder, they smile happily in the breeze. 

I try to resist but my body refuses. I rush at him and punch, barely managing to miss and punch the painting.

*BOOOM!* 

The painting shatters into pieces and the tough wall behind cracks.

"I-I...please...I'm begging you. I won't do this anymore...I will stop..." The owner mumbles in fear. 

"Huff huff..."

A glass cabinet is beside me, I throw a glance and notice my sclera growing increasingly red. 

...

I regain control of my body and back off.

"Fuck..." 

I understand why Rena changed drastically after getting the skill now. When she became a demonic human, two things changed: First, she became less merciful. Second, the status ailment "Depression" came and never left. 

The instinct of a demonic human completely contradicts Rena's morality...no wonder she became depressed...

Power doesn't come without a price...

Rena knows that but she has no choice, sacrificing herself for the sake of growing stronger to protect mankind. 

I look at the terrified owner. 

...

"It doesn't matter how 'good' their lives are, once you are dead, their lives are ruined. I am speaking from experience." I say.

!

The owner stares at me and then at the photo. 

"I..."

"Stop what you are doing and repent. Live earnestly." 

...

"I understand...I will pretend I never see you and stop what I was doing." the owner says. He takes a bag of gold from under the desk and leaves in a hurry. 

"Uh...you can take whatever you want," he adds before running away, looking left and right. 

Despite the likelihood of him lying, I don't want to make another child, if it is true, go through what I had to experience. Even if he does reveal my identity, I doubt anyone will believe him for now. 

The euphoria of absorbing demonic energy felt like taking drugs. There is a way to eliminate this aftermath but that "thing" is in the demon territory.

"Hah..." I sigh.