In a clothing store inside a busy mall in Star City.
Artificial lights reflected in the mirrors, blending with the glow of the storefronts and the constant flow of people outside. The muffled sound of conversations, hurried footsteps, and ambient music created a continuous, almost hypnotic noise.
"Ummm... I think a suit is too formal," — says a handsome young man with blue hair, dressed in a white suit, as he looks at himself in the mirror, slightly tilting his head as if evaluating a work of art.
His eyes scan every detail of his reflection, analyzing posture, presence... as if he were trying to sell an image, not just wear clothes.
He lightly tugs at the collar, clearly uncomfortable, as if the outfit didn't suit him — or perhaps, as if it didn't match what he wanted to be.
He looks to his right, at the half-naked woman beside him — "what do you think? Do I look more like a demon or a ghost?"
No reaction.
The beautiful woman, with a voluptuous body and in her forties, doesn't respond. She's too busy changing, shifting her gaze between two sets of lingerie, clearly indecisive, lightly biting her lower lip.
[Why do you bother talking to the living if they're not your clients and can't even respond?] — says a cold female voice in Ramon's mind, laced with mild contempt.
Ramon lets out a soft sigh, as if already used to that kind of comment.
The woman finally chooses the purple lingerie and tosses the black one aside, which passes through Ramon's body without any resistance, as if he were nothing more than a shadow, and lands on the bench beside him.
"Well... I guess this is my way of dealing with the situation," —he says, shrugging, while fixing his hair with his fingers in front of the mirror, trying to add volume, carefully lifting his bangs.
[Practicing voyeurism?] — the system says, its tone dripping with sarcasm, almost provocative.
"That's not the point," — Ramon replies without hesitation, as he watches the woman struggle slightly to put her jeans back on because of her large ass, the fabric resisting for a few seconds before giving in, forcing her to make small hops to adjust them.
His eyes follow the movement with far too much attention for someone who claims not to care.
She finishes getting dressed, adjusts her blouse with a light tug, and leaves the fitting room with her purse, unaware of anything. The sound of the curtain closing marks the end of the scene.
Ramon turns his gaze back to the mirror, now alone in the silent space.
For a brief moment, his expression loses its relaxed tone, revealing something deeper — a slight weariness... and perhaps loneliness.
He snaps his fingers, and his clothes begin to change like a living illusion. The fabric distorts, rippling as if it were liquid, until the suit transforms into a white jacket with black details, paired with black jeans.
"Much better... this gives off more of a 'hey, I want to help you' vibe than 'hey, let's make a contract so I can have your soul.'"
He tilts his head, evaluating the final result, slightly turning his body to see the fit. A faint smile appears at the corner of his lips. — "Marketing is everything, after all."
Ramon leaves the store, passing through the door without needing to open it, his body phasing through matter as if no barrier existed.
Outside, his gaze sweeps across the crowded Sunday mall — families laughing, couples arguing quietly, teenagers glued to their phones... all trapped in their own routines, completely ignoring what they cannot see.
Meanwhile, his gaze lingers a little longer on attractive middle-aged women... most of whom are married.
His eyes narrow slightly, as if evaluating possibilities... or just distracting himself.
(Author's Note: there will be no NTR of any kind involving the heroines.)
[Stop drooling. If you want to have a physical body to lose your virginity, you need to start working] — the system says in a monotone voice, as if it had just said something completely normal.
Ramon crosses his arms, making a face.
"Hey, it's not my fault I'm still a virgin. I spent more than half my life in a basement, remember?" — Ramon says, looking at the fountain on the second floor, where jets of water begin a synchronized show, reflecting colorful lights.
[Oh, poor thing... want your little bottle to comfort you?] — the system says, its voice full of mockery.
"Fuck you, bitch. If we both had physical bodies, I'd show you my 'little bottle,'" — Ramon says, tapping his own forehead, clearly irritated but not losing his playful tone.
[Big words for a virgin] — the voice says sarcastically, with a hint of amusement.
"Haha... alright... By the way, do you have a name, or do I have to pick one for you like reincarnators usually do?" — Ramon says, as he sits on the second-floor railing, watching the movement below.
[I'm not some pet you found lying around for you to name. In fact, it's the opposite — I found you. So I should be the one naming you as my little pet] — the system says mockingly, slightly irritated.
"Pff... in your dreams,"— Ramon says, letting out quiet chuckles.
[Hm... it's Lucy. I'm a cosmic advisor destined to maintain the balance of karma, guiding the Spirit of Vengeance — which can be you for eternity or someone else, it all depends on your performance.] — Lucy says, her voice calm, but with a slight hint of pride.
Ramon raises an eyebrow, interested.
"Oh... What a powerful and respected woman I would admire more if you didn't live in my head rent-free," — Ramon says, swinging his legs in the air while watching the movement below.
[I did take over the place, since no one was using it — not even the owner — so I guess there's no problem] — Lucy says, in a tone full of mischief.
"Well... then I should start working soon. I wouldn't want to lose my kind advisor,"— Ramon says, jumping off the railing and starting to walk.
[Huh... as if being tortured for eternity in purgatory wasn't enough incentive.] — Lucy says, half joking, half serious.
Ramon gives a side smile.
"Well then, I guess I'd better start taking things seriously... Status." — Ramon says, leaving the mall.
[NAME: (Ramon Serevic)
EVOLUTION LEVEL: (0)
EVOLUTION POINTS: (0)
Points required for next evolution: (5)
CONTRACTORS: (None)
ABILITIES:
(Intangibility: as a specter, you are able to pass through any material object (this ability will change from passive to active when the host gains a physical body / Grade (MAX)))
(Appraisal: allows you to see the reason behind a victim's hatred / Grade (MAX))
(Shapeshifting: as a specter, you are able to change form (limited by grade to humanoid forms only) / Grade (1))
(Hatred Sensor: as a specter of vengeance, you are able to sense the hatred in the hearts of the wronged (limited by grade to only 10 meters) / Grade (1))]
Ramon clicked to get more information.
[Evolution Level: demonstrates your level as a specter, the personification of a concept. The more you align with your concept, the more forms you will unlock.]
[Evolution Points: the quantification of your alignment with your concept as the Spirit of Vengeance. The way to obtain them is by making contracts with the wronged, but in return, the contractors will have their souls bound as servants for eternity after death.]
Ramon crosses his arms, thoughtful.
"Hmm... in a simpler analogy, the evolution level is how competent I am at what I do, and the evolution points are what I need to prove that competence — to show that I'm truly fit to continue in this role," Ramon says, walking along the modern sidewalks of Star City with his hand on his chin.
The reflection of the city lights passes through his body, reinforcing how out of place he is in that world.
[Impressive... I didn't think you could think with your upper head] — Lucy says, in a sarcastic tone.
"I'll take that as a compliment," Ramon says, already getting used to her teasing.
"I ask you if one day you could say something gen—" Ramon suddenly stops walking.
His eyes narrow.
Something... caught his attention.
He slowly turns his face toward a dark alley between two buildings, where the light barely reaches.
The air there feels heavier.
He stares at the alley for about five seconds, analyzing, sensing... then walks in without saying a word.
His footsteps make no sound.
He passes by trash bins, the strong smell, and crawling cockroaches that don't react to his presence.
At the end of the alley, he finds a young woman with multiple bruises across her body. Her long red hair was darkened by dirt, stuck to her face, and her almost flat chest rose and fell weakly, showing that she was still alive.
Ramon looks at her, a hint of compassion in his eyes for such a fragile being — and something else… interest.
A faint smile appears. — "Hmm... I think I already know who my first client is going to be."