Chapter 33: The New Assassin Class

The third and final option appeared before Luke’s eyes.

[Demonic Assassin]: Your blood carries the lineage of tyrants. As you evolve, your touch will drain life, and your blade will consume souls. You will not simply kill—you will devour. The demonic power in your veins awakens something beyond mere stealth. You will sap the essence of your victims, growing stronger with every death. Your weapon becomes an extension of your hunger, stealing energy with each strike and granting you regeneration. Your body will harden, your instincts sharpen, your presence become lethal. You will not be a mere assassin. You will be a predator—one that grows stronger with every battle.

Attribute Bonuses per Class Level:

+5 Perception, +4 Strength, +4 Agility, +3 Vitality, +2 Intelligence, +3 Free Points

Luke read every word, and for a moment, all he could do was stare. Unlike the first two options, this one felt like it was speaking directly to him—no, it was made for him. This wasn’t just a class evolution; it was a reflection of his bloodline, a mutation born of his heritage. He was almost sure the other two paths were standard mutations, options any skilled assassin might eventually unlock. But this… this one existed because of him—and the stats were insane.

The Phantom and Shadow paths gave fourteen attribute points per class level. This one? Twenty-one. With three free points to place wherever he wanted. At higher levels, that kind of growth would snowball into something monstrous.

Luke pulled a kukri from his inventory and checked the passive skill: Magnetic Return. It scaled with Perception. And this path gave him more Perception per level than any other option.

But it wasn’t just about stats. The real weight of the decision came from the abilities that would unlock. Dozens—maybe hundreds—of hidden skills were waiting behind these paths. The system wasn’t telling him what they were; it was asking him to choose a philosophy—a future. And he couldn’t afford to choose lightly.

He’d survived by inches against the convicts. If there had been two Williams at the end, he wouldn’t be standing here now.

The Tutorial might not be anything close to what he’d just endured—but there was no guarantee it would be easier. There were rumors. Hushed stories passed between survivors. Tutorials where players hunted other players, slaughtering the weak to farm XP.

Luke had no way of knowing what he’d face next. But he knew this much: he would not be unprepared.

His eyes locked on the Demonic Assassin class again. Choosing this meant embracing his demonic side. It wasn’t just a combat style—it was a path without return. But then again, he’d already passed the point of no return.

I can’t remove the bloodline, at least not that I know of.

What mattered now was using it—turning it into something he could control, something that wouldn’t control him.

Luke exhaled slowly, silencing his thoughts.

This wasn’t about power for its own sake. This was survival. And in a world where the strong preyed on the weak, he would not be prey.

“The predator of predators…” Luke whispered. And made his choice.

[Class Selection Complete]

**You have become a [Demonic Assassin]**

A pulse of heat surged through his chest—sharp but brief.

Then, his system screen began to flicker.

[Your demonic bloodline has strengthened.]

[Your demonic bloodline has corrupted certain skills.]

[Evolving affected skills…]

“What…?”

Luke reached to check the changes—and froze as Princess Charlie suddenly dropped to her knees. Her jaw opened in a silent scream.

“Princess Charlie!” he shouted, rushing toward her.

Before he could reach her, her body began to rise—levitating off the ground. Her skeletal form shimmered, then began to melt, like wax under flame.

“Stop!” Luke yelled, trying to will her back into his bond—but nothing worked.

Her body unraveled into a swirling black mist. The darkness condensed into a massive, obsidian-colored egg, pulsing with faint light. Cracks spread across the surface. And then—shatter.

A wave of dark energy exploded outward. And when the mist cleared, something landed on its feet with a heavy thud.

It was her. Princess Charlie. But… not the one he knew.

Luke’s breath caught.

The old Charlie had been short, lightly built, her bones yellow-white and human-sized. But the figure before him now was towering—easily over two meters tall. Broader. Thicker. Built like a warrior carved from shadowed stone.

Her bones had changed from faded ivory to a grim steel-gray, lined with sharp cracks—not from damage, but as if her very existence had fractured under pressure and reforged into something new. Her eye sockets burned darker, like they held a living shadow deep within.

“Princess Charlie… is that you?” Luke asked, carefully.

The skeletal figure tilted her head. Then nodded slowly.

She stepped toward him—now a full head taller—and looked down at him with eerie curiosity.

Raising one massive hand, she gently tousled his hair with her long fingers, tilting her skull in a playful gesture that said: ‘Now I’m taller than you.’

Luke chuckled despite himself.

“Alright. Still you.”

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She turned and picked up her sword from the ground. Only now—she didn’t need two hands to wield it.

With one arm, she swung the blade through the air effortlessly, the steel slicing through the silence as if testing her new strength.

Luke watched, stunned. That version of Charlie… anyone would run at the sight of her, especially under a black hood.

He exhaled, his voice quieter now. “I don’t know what just happened… but if it hurt, I’m sorry. It was probably because of me.”

Charlie glanced back. She tilted her skull slightly, then gave a calm shake of the head—a silent, familiar motion that said: ‘It’s fine. It’s over now.’

Suddenly, Luke’s system window snapped open.

**Some of their skills evolved due to their demonic bloodline.**

He blinked. “It’s not over yet?”

More notifications popped up, scrolling down one by one.

[Knife Throwing (Common)] -> [Profane Knife Throwing (Uncommon)]: Thrown blades now pierce more efficiently, reducing enemy dodge chance upon impact. Additionally, there is a small chance to inflict Bleed, causing the target to lose HP over time.

Luke raised an eyebrow.

His throwing technique hadn’t changed… but the system had pushed it beyond normal limits.

“So my throws hit harder and can cause bleeding now?” he muttered, gripping his kukris.

He was ready to test them— But another notification slammed onto the screen.

This one made him freeze.

[Assassin’s Dash (Uncommon)] -> [Basic Dark Dash (Rare)]: You cloak yourself in pure darkness and surge forward, becoming briefly intangible. While dashing, weak ranged attacks pass harmlessly through you, and weak obstacles are ignored. A warped trail of dark energy lingers behind you, disorienting enemies and making your true position harder to track.

The system window faded. No more updates.

Luke stared, stunned. “You’ve got to be kidding me. That’s insane!”

Basic Dark Dash.

The dash had already saved his life more times than he could count. During the fight against the convicts—and especially against William—it had been his lifeline. And now it was even stronger. More evasive. More unpredictable. More… deadly.