Nearing three weeks since transmigration.
I sat at the kitchen table, the glow of my laptop reflecting faintly in my eyes as my banking application loaded.
"Fifteen thousand," I muttered, unable to hide the thread of dissatisfaction in my voice.
I wanted more.
But I had to wait.
Five thousand in cash left, fifteen in the bank.
Not impressive - but solid, considering the time frame.
I'd read enough novels to know the usual nonsense: protagonists turning pocket change into tens of millions in a month, and somehow no one blinking an eye. Reality didn't work like that. Even ordinary humans were predators in their own way. They watched for your success. Envied it and waited for you to do a wrong step.
I was smarter than before, stronger, faster and backed by absurd senses.
But I wasn't omniscient.
And I was still missing pieces.
Money wasn't just about earning - it was about protecting and managing it. Current funds, future assets, legal insulation.
Additionally, in the last weeks, I've learned one undeniable truth:
Bureaucracy was a nightmare.
Time-consuming. Relentless. Designed to grind you down.
I needed professionals. People whose job was to deal with paperwork, law, and system - so I didn't have to.
That was today's plan.
But first, I went for my usual morning run through the forest. It had already become a routine -one I genuinely enjoyed.
At night, I would do the same but in my lion form, racing through the trees beneath the cover of darkness.
As I ran, my thoughts drifted back to everything I had accomplished over the past two weeks.
I'd finished creating the fighting style built specifically for me. A fusion of multiple disciplines, stripped of inefficiency and rebuilt from instinct and anatomy.
I called it Beast Fighting Style.
Yeah. Not my most creative moment.
The core idea was simple: full utilisation of racial traits, claws, fangs and even tail with wings.
Especially the wings, they were an unexpected discovery.
In human form, though they were smaller than in my lion form, but still massive. Built to lift and manoeuvre a four-meter beast. That meant raw strength.
At least two times stronger than my arms.
They weren't just for flight - they were weapons. Shields.
My close combat versatility was… ridiculous.
I hadn't neglected to train my mind either.
I perfected my English, then moved on to German, Italian, French, and Spanish. Economics and business came easily to me, while engineering and medicine formed a growing, reliable base.
Instant Mastery, at least when it comes to scientific disciplines, resembles something close to photographic memory. If I read something, I never forget it - provided I focus and consciously activate the skill. It feels like pressing the record button on a camera. From that moment on, everything is stored perfectly.
But if that were all it did, it wouldn't deserve to be called Instant Mastery.
While the skill is active, I don't merely memorise what I read - I fully understand it. Every concept links itself seamlessly to my existing knowledge, forming a coherent structure instead of isolated facts. Information doesn't pile up; it integrates.
At first, I wondered why the word 'instant' was even there. If I still had to read, how was this different from an exceptional memory?
With time, pieces fell into place.
Take doctors, for example. Their expertise isn't a single skill - it's the result of an enormous foundation of accumulated knowledge. Medicine itself isn't one discipline, but a vast network of interconnected fields.
I can't absorb the entirety of medicine in a single moment. It simply isn't built that way.
Even so, the ability is nothing short of monstrous.
I don't need to spend a decade becoming a doctor. I don't forget what I've learned just because I haven't reviewed it in years. Knowledge, once acquired, is permanent.
And with my current reading speed, improving day by day, I can get through three thick books daily. At that pace, becoming a doctor wouldn't take ten years.
Two, maybe three weeks of focused reading.
When I realised that, I couldn't help but smile.
It really is amazing.
________________
After finishing my run, I headed back toward the house, already planning to drive to the largest city in the state. A particular law firm had caught my attention - reputable, discreet, and expensive enough to ensure competence rather than incompetence disguised as confidence.
I was organising my approach when something shifted in the forest. It wasn't close, but it was close enough.
My senses expanded automatically, picking apart the layers of sound and movement around me.
I adjusted my path without hesitation, gliding between the trees as I lowered my presence. My body settled naturally into a predatory rhythm - balanced steps, controlled breathing, measured speed. The forest remained undisturbed.
Soon, I spotted him.
A vampire. Moving at roughly a quarter of his top speed, weaving through the trees with the relaxed assurance of something that didn't expect competition, though his path suggested he was searching for something rather than merely passing through.
His eyes were red.
That simplified things.
I shifted into my werelion form, muscles swelling as my frame expanded to three meters, compact compared to my largest state, but dense and powerful. After confirming we were alone, I waited for a clean opening before launching forward.
The distance vanished in an instant. My claws drove through his arms and tore them free with brutal efficiency, vampire flesh yielding faster than it should have. Before he could process what was happening, I severed his legs as well, removing any chance of escape.
When he tried to scream, I silenced him with a claw pressed against his jaw, applying enough pressure to fracture, without crushing it.
"Don't," a low demonic voice came out of my snout.
His breathing turned ragged.
"How many?" I asked.
He hesitated.
My claw shifted slightly.
"Three," he forced out. "Three in total."
"Including you?"
"Yes."
"Where?"
"There's a base," he said quickly, panic creeping into his voice. "A simple wooden house. Deep in the woods, northwest from here. I was just checking the perimeter."
"How far?"
"Twenty minutes", he added bitterly.
I studied him for a moment. "You noticed something, that's why you were here, right?"
"Traces," he admitted. "Too large. Not wolf and not bear. We couldn't identify it."
Too heavy and strong. Even as a cat, subtlety had limits.
Good to know.
"Do you have any abilities?" I asked.
He shook his head slightly. "Nothing. We're hunters, that's all."
I had severed his limbs too quickly - he should have been screaming, yet he could still answer me, and only after my final question did his face cycle through anger, agony, and fear as the true gravity of his situation finally sank in.
But I had what I needed, I drove my claws into his chest and began the absorption. A warm sensation spread through me as options surfaced - memories, abilities, or raw life force. I could choose only one, and every choice ended in his death.
At first, I considered memories or life force. He didn't seem special - no obvious abilities. Then I sensed something subtle, buried deep within his nature - a minor trait, undeveloped and unnoticed.
I took it.
His body collapsed into ash at my feet.
The ability had always been part of this vampire, quietly embedded in his nature, but he had mistaken it for nothing more than natural talent and never thought to develop it further.
I tested it immediately, moving at speed through the trees, and found that I left nothing behind - no broken branches, no disturbed earth, no trace of passage.
Silent walking.
Combined with my feline nature, it was a significant improvement. I could now move, even in full winged lion form, at high speed without leaving traces.
I allowed myself a small smile, though the satisfaction was tempered by a realisation: the forest was not empty, and my presence here was no longer entirely unknown.
Whether that would become a problem or an advantage remained to be seen.