When the Serial Killer Next Door Gained Harem System

I leaned my hand against a nearby tree trunk and bent forward slightly, catching my breath. My whole body ached, every movement reminding me how close that fight had been.

I slid down the trunk slowly until I was sitting on the ground, my back pressed against the rough bark.

Another notification appeared.

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> LEVEL UP!

╠══════════════════╣

> You reached LVL 4

> +1 CASS POINT

> +1 PERK POINT

╚══════════════════╝

"Alright..."

I wiped some blood from my cheek and focused. First, class point. I needed more survivability. That much was obvious. Magic was good, but if I kept getting swarmed like that, I wouldn’t last long enough to use it.

So... Warrior. It had to meant more HP, right?

╔═══════════════════════╗

> LEVEL UP: CLASS

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[1] Warrior: Strong in melee combat, high HP

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[1] Mage: Masters magic, high INT and MP

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[1] Rogue: Fast and stealthy, excels in critical hits

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[0] Cleric: Supports allies, heals and wards

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[0] Ranger: Skilled with ranged attacks

╚═══════════════════════╝

"Yeah... that should help."

I opened my status.

╔═══════════════════════╗

> Ace | LC: 37 | EXP: 18/236 | LVL 4

╠═══════════════════════╣

> HP ▰▰▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱ 45/110

> MP ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2/70

> STA ▰▰▰▰▰▰▱▱▱▱ 50/90

────────────────────────

> Class: MAGE

> Known Abilities:

• Fireball

• Heal

────────────────────────

> PERKS

• +10% More magic damage

• +10% CRIT chance

• Backstab DMG

╠═══════════════════════╣

> [ BAG ] [ MAP ] [ SHOP ] [QUESTS]

╚═══════════════════════╝

"HP went up... good."

That alone made it worth it.

I checked my attributes next.

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> Attributes

───────────────

> Attack Damage: 20

> Crit Chance: 10%

> Crit Damage: 157%

> Evasion: 10%

> Armor: 8

> Magic Resist: 10

╚══════════════╝

"Nice..."

More damage, a bit more armor. Not huge, but it added up. I leaned my head back against the tree for a second, thinking.

Plan was simple.

Get one point in each class eventually, then focus on Mage. Cleric would help with healing, and Ranger would give me ranged options without relying only on mana.

"Yeah... that works."

I pushed myself up with a groan, legs protesting immediately.

"Time to go..."

ꨄ︎ꨄ︎ꨄ︎

I sent another fireball, and that was it. The last wolf dropped, its body collapsing onto the dirt. The quest was finally over.

A notification appeared.

╔═══════════════════════╗

> Ace | LC: 37 | EXP: 93/236 | LVL 4

╠═══════════════════════╣

> HP ▰▰▰▰▰▰▱▱▱▱ 55/110

> MP ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11/70

> STA ▰▰▰▰▰▰▱▱▱▱ 50/90

────────────────────────

> Class: MAGE

> Known Abilities:

• Fireball

• Heal

────────────────────────

> PERKS

• +10% More magic damage

• +10% CRIT chance

• Backstab DMG

╠═══════════════════════╣

> [ BAG ] [ MAP ] [ SHOP ] [QUESTS]

╚═══════════════════════╝

"I had eighteen already," I muttered, catching my breath. "Thirty-five from the quest... forty from the wolves... yeah. Ninety-three."

Not bad.

"Okay... the quest’s done," I exhaled. "Phew."

I rolled my shoulder and glanced down at my body. The bleeding had stopped thanks to the healing spell, but the pain was still there, dull and constant. My clothes were torn, my skin bruised and marked with bite wounds.

If I hurried, I could still make it back in time for dinner at the dorm.

"Man..." I sighed. "I’m starving. I could eat that damn lake creature whole."

"Ace Walker."

I froze for half a second, then turned.

Null stood a few meters away, one hand resting on his hip, watching me like he had been there for a while. My eyes narrowed slightly.

"What are you doing here, Student Council President?" I asked.

"I’ve been following you," he said calmly. "For a while."

That made my stomach tighten. I was always careful. Watching my surroundings wasn’t even a conscious effort anymore. It was instinct. And yet, I hadn’t noticed him.

"What are you even doing?" he continued, glancing at the scattered wolf corpses. "Hunting wolves with fireballs? Not even skinning them?"

"I’m... practicing."

"That’s a strange way to practice."

I exhaled slowly. "Null. Why are you here?"

He stepped closer, his gaze drifting over the bodies around me.

"The death around you," he said quietly. "It’s... vile. Their souls are twisted. Rotten."

I frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"How many have you killed?" he asked, tilting his head slightly, as if listening to something I couldn’t hear. "Mm... 222... no. 232..."

My expression didn’t change, but I felt it.

He wasn’t guessing.

"I can feel them," he continued. "More... more wretched souls clinging to you."

He took another slow step forward.

"242... no... higher. 257..."

I stayed silent. There was no point pretending anymore. This guy could see something.

I stared at him with deadpan eyes, the ones my mother gave me. The same eyes she had drained of any light. Dark brown. Disgusting. Empty of emotion. It seemed I didn’t need to act anymore.

"279," I said flatly.

He stopped.

"279 victims?" he asked, his jaw tightening.

I let a second pass. Then I answered, my voice just as flat.

"No. 279 apples, you moron."

We stared at each other. Neither of us moved. Neither of us blinked. The air between us felt heavy, like something was about to snap.

Then, without another word, Null turned around. He walked away toward the edge of the forest, heading for the dirt road, his steps calm and measured like nothing had happened.

I watched him go, my expression unchanged.

"Well... that was awkward," I muttered.

I exhaled and rolled my neck slightly.

"What a bother..."

ꨄ︎ꨄ︎ꨄ︎

Lucky me. The school was closed tomorrow because of the fight that broke out. I wasn’t about to complain. I was exhausted anyway, from hunting those wolves and nearly getting myself killed by that thing in the lake.

By the time I finished climbing the stairs and turned left into the dining area, the place was packed. Every table was occupied, students squeezed shoulder to shoulder while talking over each other. Some had given up on finding seats and were eating on benches along the walls or even standing in small groups near the pillars.

The air smelled rich and heavy with food, roasted meat, fresh bread, and something buttery that made my stomach tighten.

I walked toward the serving area and looked at the line stretching from the counter. It snaked along the wall and curved slightly near the entrance. Judging by the pace, it would take a while. Maybe five or six minutes?

"Well... nothing else to do."

Near the entrance to the line, a waist-high wooden rack held stacks of slightly dented metal trays. A pile of utensils sat in a separate wooden bin beside it, though I didn’t notice that part yet. I grabbed one of the trays, its surface cool and faintly greasy, and stepped into line.

It took longer than I expected. What I thought would be five minutes turned into closer to fifteen as the line shuffled forward inch by inch.

When I finally reached the counter, I got a better look at the man serving the food. He was broad-shouldered with rolled-up sleeves, moving with efficiency. He didn’t waste a single motion. One hand held a ladle, dipping into a large steaming pot, while the other grabbed chunks of roasted meat from a metal tray. He worked fast, barely glancing at faces, just filling plates and pushing them forward.

He dropped a thick stew onto my tray first, dark and rich, with chunks of meat and vegetables swimming in it. Then came slices of roasted meat with a crispy outer layer, followed by a piece of warm bread that still gave off steam when it hit the tray. Last, he added a scoop of something buttery, mashed roots or potatoes, smooth and pale.

For a place like this, the food looked way better than I expected.