[What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?] Miley asked sharply, her tone carrying a stern edge.
Henry stopped his runner's stance, a slow, dark chuckle vibrating in his chest. "Oh, you're finally awake," he murmured, his tone dripping with cool confidence. "I was wondering when you were gonna come online."
There was a heavy pause in his mind. When the British voice returned, it had lost its usual sarcastic edge. It was sharp. Analytical.
[I know what you are] Miley said. [You're the other side. The one that's been taking over Henry's body for days now]
"Guilty as charged," Henry smirked, stretching his neck. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you in person. Well... not exactly in person, since you don't actually have a body."
[What are you up to?] Miley demanded, ignoring the tease.
"Isn't it obvious?" Henry began walking down the pavement, his gait smooth and predatory. "I'm going to do what the other Henry couldn't. I'm going to use this system to its absolute fullest capability. I'm going to get us stronger, and I'm going to make sure we all stay alive." He tapped the side of his head. "That includes you too."
[What do you mean by that?] Miley asked in genuine curiosity, her voice getting softer now.
"Come on," Henry chuckled. "You're a thousand-year-old Ai. Don't tell me you haven't already worked out the math."
[Huh?] Miley was confused. She had no idea of what he was talking about.
"See I know how this works," Henry continued, his purple eyes scanning the street with hyper-vigilant precision. "If this body dies, the system dies. And if the system dies, you die right along with it. And something tells me you don't want to fade into oblivion just because your host is a bleeding-heart idiot."
He paused and stared into the blue sky. "I won't make the mistakes Henry made. I won't run into traffic for strangers. I won't freeze in front of things that want to kill me. I won't almost drown myself in a waterfall because I couldn't think of a better option." He let the silence sit for a beat. "Henry almost got us all killed twice in the span of a single day. I won't."
Miley fell silent. The quiet stretched for several long seconds, the hum of the city filling the void. Then she finally spoke;
[Where is he?] she asked, her voice quieter. [Where is the original Henry? I can't sense his presence anymore]
Henry smirked. "He's in a place where he can't cause any more trouble for us," the alter ego replied dismissively.
[How long do you plan on keeping him in this... place?] Miley asked carefully.
"For as long as I please," Henry said, a cold edge creeping into his voice. "Honestly? I'm probably never even going to let him out. Ever."
Miley tried to retort. [What?! You can't—]
"I can." Henry cut in. He kept his voice level. The tone of someone correcting a factual error rather than winning an argument. "And I already have. And before you tell me it's wrong, consider the alternative. Henry had the system. Henry had the legacy of Mercury. Henry had this body in this world with every advantage a reincarnated soul could possibly ask for… and what was he doing with it? Daily quests and dinner conversations and certain earnest attempts to make his fake sister like him." He paused. "He once said what's the rush… about getting stronger. In a world where things that can kill him outnumber things that can't by a considerable margin. And yet he dares to ask what's the rush! Fucking idiot!"
Miley was quiet. The quality of that silence was different this time.
And Henry knew why.
He had accessed enough of Henry's interactions with Miley to know that she would never argue against this particular point. She had in fact, been sitting with it since the beginning… that low dissatisfaction with a host who understood the system's potential in the abstract but wasn't fully committed to realizing it.
She had nudged him. Urged him. Expressed concern whenever he showed signs of moving too slowly. But she had never pushed too hard, because Henry was still Henry and pushing too hard would have been a violation of something she seemed to consider a boundary.
There was another stretch of silence.
And when Miley spoke again, there was a tone of genuine fascination mixed with her caution.
[You are more than just a typical dissociative state. It's as though you possess your own mind, your own personality, and emotions. Like some kind of advanced alter ego]
Henry chuckled darkly. "It's not 'as though' I possess these things. I DO have my own personality. I DO have my own emotions and submind. I AM an advanced alter ego."
Miley managed to filter out a word from his statement. [Submind?] she asked.
"I possess exactly half of the mind," Henry explained, enjoying the technical breakdown. "Henry has the other half. We share the same physical brain, but we do not share the same mind. And because my mind is wired for survival, I am a vastly superior host for your system. Which is what you've always wanted, right? A host that is disciplined and proactive. Not some naive brat asking 'what's the rush' when surrounded by monsters."
Miley didn't speak. She couldn't deny the logic. The original Henry truly did lack discipline, and his casual, almost lazy approach to the system's potential had silently frustrated her. Still, she had to play the voice of reason.
[It's not fair] she said. [What you did to him. Even if he's undisciplined. Even if he can be, and I say this with a certain amount of genuine frustration—somewhat doltish about the things that matter most. That doesn't mean he couldn't have gotten better. That he couldn't have found the discipline eventually] Then she paused for a while. [But now we'll never know. Because you've decided to take what isn't yours]
"Isn't mine?" Henry paused. He stood on the pavement, his hands loose at his sides, and looked at nothing in particular.
Then he laughed.
It was the laugh of someone who had just heard a statement so perfectly, unintentionally ironic that the only honest response is audible.
"Isn't mine?" he said again, the laughter fading into something drier. "This body isn't mine. Agreed. It belongs to the original Henry Myers, Felicity's actual son, who died in a pit after hitting his head on a rock. And then your Henry—our Henry, the reincarnated accounting major from another world—climbed into it without permission and proceeded to live inside it while lying to everyone around him about who and what he actually was." He paused. "He was the first imposter, Miley. I'm just continuing the work he started. The body was never anybody's in the way you're implying. We're both squatters."
Miley wanted to argue. [That's not—]
"It is, though." Henry interrupted before resuming his walk. "I'm not saying it to win the argument. I'm saying it because it's accurate and you should have the accurate version rather than the comfortable one." He glanced inward, toward the particular awareness of Miley's presence in the space behind his thoughts. "I would like to get along with you, Miley. I genuinely would. You have information I need, context I can use, and frankly the alternative to having someone competent in my head is having no one in my head, which is a less interesting way to spend whatever time we have in this world." He paused again, something almost light in his tone. "And you don't have a body, which means I can't meet you properly, which is a pity. But we work with what we have, I guess."
[Was that supposed to be funny?] Miley scoffed.
"It wasn't." Henry snickered. "I was simply trying to remind you that you are a system guide. A mere artificial intelligence with no body. I only engaged with you because I wanted someone to get along with, someone to talk to. Someone to work with. The question is whether you're interested in reciprocating it."
[And what if I'm not?] Miley said.
Henry chuckled. "Then I'd really appreciate it if you stayed out of my way. For the good of both of us," he said calmly, but there was a sharpness in his tone. "But frankly, there's nothing you can really do to stop me now, is there?"
The silence that followed was thick with tension. Finally, Miley let out a digital sigh.
[I have no desire to stop you. And I am not exactly in support of what you did to him, either] she stated. [But... if you can truly utilize the system better than he did, then I suppose I can tolerate you]
"Good," Henry's smirk returned, sharp and triumphant. "I'm glad we finally have an understanding."
He dropped back into his runner's stance and took a deep breath, his eyes fixed on the long stretch of open road ahead. "Now. Let's see what this body can really do."
Then he started the timer on his stopwatch and exploded off the pavement.
Whoosh!
In the first two seconds, the wind brushed at his face, and the system interface flashed in the corner of his vision:
[Speed Rate: 70 km/hr]
Henry smirked. He leaned forward, digging deep into his muscle fibers, burning his Stamina with a reckless, exhilarating joy. The world around him smeared into streaks of color. He continued running, pushing himself straight to his limit.
And within five seconds, he hit it.
[Speed Rate: 140 km/hr]
[Top Speed Reached]
Henry allowed himself a victory grin. He had covered a hundred meters in the blink of an eye. He still had nine hundred meters to go to complete the quest, but maintaining top speed meant his body began screaming for resources.
[Stamina: 28/75]
His Stamina bar plummeted drastically, hovering in the warning zone, but it was still enough to keep him upright and running.
He gritted his teeth, his eyes narrowing against the rushing wind. He pushed through the burning in his lungs, his legs pumping like hydraulic pistons. His arms and legs moved faster than he could consciously instruct them to move. Time distorted around him. What felt like an agonizing hour of burning muscle and crushing wind resistance was over in a flash.
Finally, he crossed the invisible one-kilometer mark and skidded to a halt, the friction burning the rubber on the soles of his white sneakers.
He checked the timer on the stopwatch.
Twenty-eight seconds.
He had gone from a standstill, reached a top speed of 140 km/h, and covered an entire kilometer in twenty-eight seconds. It was absolute insanity.
[Objective 1 Complete: Run 1 kilometer without stopping]
[You have received: 5 EXP and +10 km/h to Top Speed]
[Current Top Speed: 150 km/h]
[Exp: 70/100]
Henry stood outside the residential sector, directly in front of the public park near his estate. He bent over, hands on his knees, panting heavily as he swiped away the system notification.
He walked into the park, his chest heaving, and slumped onto a wooden bench beneath a frost-covered tree.
"Well?" Henry gasped, a smug grin playing on his lips. "What did you think of the run?"
[I am... amazed, actually] Miley admitted, her tone laced with genuine respect. [The fact that you reached top speed in under five seconds is highly impressive. Your acceleration curve is incredibly steep]
Henry's grin widened into an arrogant smirk. "So... I'm better than him." He chuckled.
[I didn't say that] Miley scoffed.
"You implied it." Henry retorted with a snicker.
[I implied that your acceleration profile is more efficient. That's a technical observation, not a ranking] Miley stated. [This is not a competition]
Maybeitshouldbe, Henry murmured in his mind, clenching his fists.
Just then, a loud, cavernous growl echoed from his midsection.
Henry winced, clutching his stomach. The intense sprint, combined with the rapid depletion and regeneration of his Stamina, had sent his metabolic rate into overdrive. He was ravenously, painfully hungry.
"I knew I should have eaten before leaving the house," he sighed.
[Yes] Miley agreed. [Your metabolic rate increases proportionally with stamina expenditure at high speed. Running at maximum output essentially demands fuel. In other words, constant consumption of food]
"Geez. I know what hunger is, Miley," Henry scoffed. "You didn't have to make it sound so complicated."
Miley digitally shrugged. [I was simply explaining why it's worse than usual]
Henry rolled his eyes. "Well, stop explaining to me like we're in a physics class," he muttered, standing up and scanning the park for a food stall or snack stand.
And luck, it seemed, was on his side.
Right in the center of the plaza, parked conveniently near a frozen fountain, was a brightly colored food truck. Five plastic tables were set up in front of it, giving it the aesthetic of a mobile restaurant.
Henry immediately strode toward the food truck, the scent of sizzling grease and toasted buns pulling at his senses. Up close, the restaurant setup was simple… it was a refurbished industrial van with a wide service window. A small chalkboard menu hung by the counter, listing a singular focus:
The Apex Burger.
Behind the grill, a man in his late thirties was expertly flipping thick beef patties. He looked tired, the lines around his eyes suggesting he'd just started a long shift. He was the only one in this corner of the park, the morning air still too crisp for the usual lunch rush.
Henry approached the counter, his expression shifting back into the polite, unassuming mask of a hungry teenager. "Morning," he said, offering a small, friendly nod. "Can I get two hamburgers, a soda, and a milkshake?"
The man looked up, wiped a hand on his apron, and nodded. "Two Apex classics, one soda, and one shake," he confirmed. "That'll be a hundred credits, kid. Take a seat, I'll have it ready in five minutes."
"Sure thing. Take your time," Henry replied cheerfully, before walking to one of the nearby plastic tables. He sat down, but he didn't relax. His eyes remained locked on the man's every movement, tracking the rhythm of the spatula, the reach for the buns, the way the man's weight shifted. He was analyzing the man for some strange reason.
The man moved with the efficiency of a frycook who had done this ten thousand times. Since his patties were already hot on the grill, he simply toasted the buns, layered the patties with crisp lettuce and thick slices of tomato, and wrapped them in foil. He reached into a small mini-fridge beneath the counter, pulled out a cold can of soda, and set the entire package on the service ledge.
Henry's expression sharpened. The warm, boyish facade instantly evaporated, leaving behind the predatory focus of a hawk tracking a field mouse.
"Coming right up with that shake," the man muttered, turning his back to Henry. Then he grabbed a cup and stepped away from the counter, moving toward the milkshake machine on the opposite wall. He scooped the ice cream, blended the mix, and carefully topped it off with a generous swirl of whipped cream and a bright red cherry.
Satisfied, the man turned back around, the thick, frosty cup in his hand. "Here you go, kid, one milk—" he froze.
The counter was completely empty.
The two foiled burgers and the chilled soda were gone.
And so was Henry.
The man blinked twice, completely stunned. He leaned out of the service window, looking left, then right. The plastic tables were empty. The surrounding plaza was entirely deserted. There was no trace of the polite teenager. It was as if the boy had never existed. Both he and the food had vanished into thin air.
...….
Three blocks away, far outside the boundaries of the park, Henry strolled casually down the bustling city sidewalk. He took a long, satisfying sip from the cold soda in his left hand, while his right hand held a perfectly wrapped hamburger.
He hadn't needed the milkshake. He hadn't even wanted it. The milkshake was nothing more than a tactical misdirection… an item that required the man to turn his back and focus on a machine for exactly fifteen seconds. Because, frankly, Henry never had any intention of paying.
And when the man turned his back, Henry had moved so fast the man's retinas hadn't even registered the blur. One second he was sitting; the next, he was across the park, the food already tucked into his inventory.
He took a large, aggressive bite of the burger, the savory juice hitting his tongue. A low, dark chuckle escaped him. "I would have paid good money to see the look on his face when he turned back around," he laughed.
[What the hell was that?] Miley's voice rang out, sharp with indignation. [You have five million credits in your pocket! That man probably barely clears ten thousand a week, and you just stole from him?]
Henry didn't stop chewing. He swallowed, then took a long, refreshing pull of the soda. "And?" he asked flatly, as if waiting for her to state a reasonable point.
[And, that was unnecessary!] Miley snapped. [What you did was petty. You could have bought the whole truck if you wanted to. Why go through the trouble of scamming a working man?]
Henry stopped in his tracks. His expression went cold, the "Henry" mask dropping completely as he stared out at the passing hovercars flying above. "If you're trying to make me feel guilty, Miley, you're wasting your processing power. It's not working." He reached into his inventory, pulled out the second burger, and unwrapped it with clinical precision.
"You need to understand something," Henry continued, his voice low and dangerous. "I am not a 'good person.' I have never been a good person. I'm not working toward being a good person, and I have no particular interest in becoming a good person."
He took a bite of the second burger, chewed, and swallowed. "Henry was a good person. Henry felt guilty about things. Henry cared about whether strangers thought well of him and spent considerable emotional energy on the feelings of people he had known for less than a week." He glanced down at the paper bag. "I'm not Henry. I don't care about the 'working man' or his weekly earnings. I care about the fact that I needed food, and I took it."
He began walking again, heading deeper into the heart of the city, his eyes scanning for the transport that would lead him toward the hunting grounds he'd been researching the previous night.
"Henry was a soft, guilt-ridden brat," he said between bites. "I am the one who ensures we survive. And in my world, the predator doesn't pay the prey for a meal."
Miley didn't respond. The silence in his mind was heavy, a digital disapproval that he ignored with practiced ease. He finished the second burger, crushed the foil into a ball, and tossed it into a trash bin without looking back.
He was refueled. He was armed. And now, it was time to see what kind of monsters this world was hiding.
It was time… to go hunting.