A sudden chime pierced the silence of Krishna's small room. The System interface glowed, displaying a new notification. "Ding! Mission: Cleanse Corruption. Objectives: Eliminate 2 mutated street cats, 1 mutated street dog, and 1 mutated street rabbit. Time limit: 3 hours. Reward: Access to Mortal Realm, First Level Cultivation. Accept? Y/N." Accept? His mind raced. Mutated animals? He had never killed anything in his life, let alone something 'mutated.' A cold knot formed in his stomach. But Suman’s face, pale and distant in the hospital bed, flashed behind his eyes. He had to. There was no other way. "Y," he muttered, his voice barely a whisper. "Mission accepted. Time starts now!" The system’s voice was crisp, unwavering. Krishna grabbed the small, utilitarian knife he kept for opening packages, its blade dull from disuse. He fumbled it, the cold steel feeling alien, heavy in his palm. Minutes later, his old bicycle hummed under him, wheels kicking up dust on the deserted backstreets of Jaipur. The night air was thick, heavy with the scent of spices and exhaust. He scanned the darkened alleyways, his heart hammering against his ribs. He needed to find them, and quickly. Near a overflowing dumpster, a flash of movement. A scrawny alley cat, its fur matted, but its eyes... they glowed faintly, a sickly yellow in the dim light. Krishna swallowed hard. This was it. His hands trembled as he dismounted, his legs feeling like lead. He approached cautiously, knife held awkwardly. The cat hissed, arching its back, its glowing eyes fixed on him. It wasn’t a normal cat. A surge of fear, primal and sharp, shot through him. Could he do this? Suman. Her face, her dreams. The word echoed, a mantra of desperation. This wasn’t for him. This was for her future. With a desperate lunge, he cornered the animal. Its mewls were pathetic, almost human. Krishna's hands shook violently as he grabbed its scruff. Its small body writhed, sharp claws scrabbling at his arm. A tear pricked his eye. He closed them, took a ragged breath. He pressed the dull blade against its neck. A sickening crunch, a final shudder. The cat went limp. He pulled back, his stomach churning, bile rising in his throat. The glowing yellow in its eyes dimmed, then vanished. A system notification chimed. "Ding! Mutated Street Cat eliminated. 1/4." Disgust warred with a grim sense of accomplishment. His hands were shaking, but less now. The first one was the hardest, he thought, a cold, clinical observation. He needed two more, then the dog. He pushed the nausea down, focusing on the mission. --- Another half hour crawled by. He found the second cat cowering beneath a parked rickshaw. This time, the hesitation was shorter, the act swifter. His movements were still clumsy, but the tremor in his hands had lessened. He didn’t cry. He just focused on the task, his jaw clenched. "Ding! Mutated Street Cat eliminated. 2/4." The rabbit was harder to find. It darted between overgrown bushes near a derelict building. Its eyes glowed a faint, unnerving green. Krishna moved with a hunter’s stealth he didn't know he possessed, stalking it, his senses unnaturally sharp. He cornered it, and in a brutal, efficient motion, ended its life. No tears this time, only a heavy emptiness. "Ding! Mutated Street Rabbit eliminated. 3/4. Only Mutated Street Dog remaining. Remaining time: 1 hour, 47 minutes." The alley deepened, the air growing colder. He could feel it, a subtle shift in the environment, a faint hum in the air. The system had also updated with new information. While eliminating the rabbit, a 'Fire Palm' technique had been pushed into his mind, rudimentary but potent. It felt like an instinct, a new limb. He entered a particularly desolate stretch, the narrow path choked with discarded junk and broken crates. A low growl rumbled from the shadows ahead. His skin prickled. This was it. This was the big one. Out from behind a rusted barrel stepped the dog. It was a street dog, yes, but twisted. Its fur was patchy, scabs covering raw flesh. But it was its eyes that seized Krishna, two fiery orbs of crimson, radiating malice. Its teeth, yellowed and long, dripped saliva onto the cracked pavement. This wasn't just a sick animal. This was a predator. Fear, cold and sharp, tried to paralyze him. He felt the knife in his hand, suddenly inadequate. This creature was larger, faster, and clearly dangerous. The thought of Suman, however, burned away the paralysis. He would not fail her. Suddenly, the dog lunged. A blur of mangy fur and snapping teeth. Krishna sidestepped, a move born of pure instinct, the dog’s jaws clashing inches from his arm. He swung his knife, a desperate, wild arc, connecting with nothing but air. The dog snarled, circling him, its red eyes glowing like embers. Krishna remembered the Fire Palm technique. He focused, a warmth blossoming in his right palm. It spread, tingling, then intensified, becoming a searing heat. He pushed his hand forward, a guttural cry escaping his lips. A small, flickering wave of heat shot from his palm, impacting the dog’s flank. The beast yelped, a sound of pain and surprise, stumbling backward. Smoke curled from its matted fur where the attack hit. The dog recovered quickly, its snarl turning into a furious bark. It charged again, lower this time, aiming for his legs. Krishna ducked, the hot air from its breath brushing his face. He felt a surge, a thrill he couldn't name, as adrenaline flooded his veins. His movements became smoother, sharper. He dodged another snap, feeling the primitive rush of battle. This wasn’t a desperate act of survival anymore. There was a raw, almost exhilarating focus. His mind was clear, his senses heightened. He saw the dog’s movements, anticipated its feints. Another Fire Palm, stronger this time, struck its shoulder. The dog howled, its movements slowing, a limp entering its stride. This was different from the cats. This was a fight. The dog lunged once more, but this time, Krishna was ready. He met its charge, not with fear, but with a fierce determination. He didn’t just survive. He fought. He aimed the knife, driven by an instinct he hadn't known he possessed, right into the creature's exposed neck. A final, gurgling gasp. The dog thrashed, then went still. Its fiery red eyes dimmed, then faded to dull, lifeless glass. Krishna stood panting, his chest heaving, the knife clutched tight in his hand. His body was singing, a strange blend of exhaustion and exhilaration. Blood pounded in his ears. He had done it. He had killed it. But the thrill... the raw, primal satisfaction that coursed through him in the heat of battle. It was unsettling. He had become something else in that alley, something colder, more efficient. Was this what the System meant by 'Cleanse Corruption'? Was this what it meant to become stronger? A tremor ran through him, not of fear, but of self-recognition. A dark mirror showing him a reflection he didn't quite recognize, yet felt oddly at home in. "Ding! Mutated Street Dog eliminated. 4/4. Mission Complete! Accessing Mortal Realm, First Level Cultivation..." He watched in horror as the decaying body of the mutated dog began to shimmer. Its flesh dissolved, melting into a shimmering mist that swirled, coalescing into a single, pulsating red pill. It hovered in the air, labelled: 'Mutant Core: Consume for Qi Enhancement.'

Chapter 3: First Tide, First Kill