Ethan Cole - The Unlimited System

Ethan leaned against the clubhouse wall, pulling out his phone.

"Let's see how much have I improved," he muttered excitedly.

He knew with every mission completed, he was a step nearer to his main goal of forming the Ascendant Core.

The Status Panel glowed to life, its familiar interface flickering across the screen.

=====

Name: Ethan Cole

Level: 6

EXP: 31,000 / 46,500

Ascension Points: 95

Wealth: Unlimited

Attributes:

Strength: 91

Speed: 91

Endurance: 91

Intelligence: 90

Charisma: 90

Free Attribute Points: 0

=====

"Whoa... I'm actually almost there," Ethan murmured, staring at the numbers as if sheer willpower could nudge them to 100.

He sighed, pocketing the phone. "I have too many Ascension Points but I can't use it yet. That's... a shame."

He believed Level 10 was the golden ticket for unlocking the next items in the system's shop.

The problem? He was running out of missions that he could complete earlier to level up or receive free points as rewards.

Lost in thought, he barely noticed the quiet footsteps behind him.

"Good to see you didn't obliterate anyone on the field," Mark said, his tone steady, like a teacher mildly impressed but still withholding praise.

Ethan glanced up, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "Didn't seem fair to turn a practice match into a horror movie."

"Smart decision." Mark crossed his arms, his sharp eyes scanning Ethan. "But Ethan... I can sense that you're much stronger than yesterday."

"Can't hide anything from you, can I?" Ethan replied, his smirk widening slightly. Jordan's influence was definitely rubbing off on him. He was cracking more jokes than usual.

Mark's expression shifted, his gaze serious. "You're now more than strong enough to form you Ascendant Core."

He paused a moment before sighing. He looked at Ethan and said, "You know what? You're much stronger than I am, physically, when I formed my core. Have you tried?"

"Not yet." Ethan shook his head. "I've tried the breathing technique, but I want to make sure everything's perfect before I form the core."

"Perfect?" Mark frowned, his tone dipping into a more thoughtful register. "Don't wait too long. The stronger your body gets, the harder it'll be to form the core."

Ethan nodded slowly. "Noted. I'll think about it."

Before Mark could reply, a playful voice cut in.

"You're thinking too much. How can you achieve perfection when you don't know the limit?"

Ethan turned to find Maya circling him like a cat inspecting a suspicious new toy. Her eyes narrowed, and she leaned in, squinting as if trying to spot cracks in his armor.

"Hmm…" she murmured, her voice dripping with exaggerated curiosity. "You've changed again." She tapped her chin dramatically. "Bulkier. Taller, maybe. Definitely shinier."

Ethan blinked. "Shinier?"

She shrugged, grinning. "What can I say? You've got this glow. New moisturizer?"

"Training," Ethan replied evenly. "And mentors who keep me on my toes."

Maya chuckled, stepping closer, her sharp gaze dissecting him. "Training, huh? Sure, let's call it that. But this…" She waved a hand vaguely in his direction. "This is fast. Like, suspiciously fast. Care to share your cheat code?"

"Hard work and determination," Ethan said smoothly. He had to admit that deflecting these questions was getting easier with practice.

He could not share anything about the system. That was his biggest secret.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

"Right," Maya drawled, clearly unimpressed. "And I'm secretly running for mayor."

She squinted at him again. "Seriously, though, it's not natural. You're like one of those plants that grows a foot overnight. Weird and kind of unsettling."

Ethan shrugged, his tone light. "Guess I'm just a fast learner."

Maya studied him for a long moment before finally stepping back, arms folded. "Fine. Keep your secrets. But whatever you're doing, don't let it backfire, and don't wait for too long to form the core."

"Duly noted," Ethan replied his tone calm but edged with humor.

Maya tilted her head, her smirk returning. "Good. Just making sure you survive long enough to be useful."

Ethan chuckled softly. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

She turned to Mark, then glanced back at Ethan. "So, what's the plan for today?"

"Gym," Ethan said. "Thought I'd test my limits."

Maya's eyebrows shot up. "Ooh, the gym. How exciting." Her grin widened.

Ethan quickly shook his head. "No. No. Not your gym. I don't plan on taking another beating today."

Both Mark and Maya chuckled.

"Mind if we tag along? Wouldn't want you breaking anything, or anyone," Maya said.

Ethan gave her a pointed look. "As if you'd let me go anywhere alone."

Mark's lips twitched into a faint smile. "She's not wrong."

Ethan sighed, shaking his head. "Fine. Let's go. But I've got other things to handle after, so no detours."

They started walking, the trio falling into step. As they moved, a question gnawed at the edge of Ethan's mind.

"Hey, Mark," he began, his tone thoughtful. "Are there any footballers, or athletes in general, who are Ascendants?"

Mark raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued.

"Some," he said after a moment. "Mostly the world champions, the ones who rise above everyone else. A few are Ascendants."

Ethan frowned. "Just a few? I mean, being a professional athlete guarantees fame and wealth. Why wouldn't more Ascendants go for that?"

Before Mark could respond, Maya laughed. It was a sharp, knowing sound.

"Because fame and wealth are boring," she said, her tone light but her words slicing through the conversation.

Ethan turned to her, his confusion evident. "Then what do they want?"

Maya's smirk faded, her eyes narrowing. "Power. Absolute power."

She began pacing, her steps slow and deliberate. "And then, greater power. And after that…" She glanced at him, her gaze piercing. "Power that bends reality. That's what Ascendants crave."

Mark nodded, his voice steady. "Once you start on this path, power becomes everything. Fame and wealth? They're distractions. They can't compare to the pull of strength."

Ethan fell silent, feeling the weight of their words. The drive for power was not just a choice for him; it was a strong urge that shaped the path he was on.

Maya stopped pacing, her gaze locking onto his. "Are you feeling burdened by all of this?"

Ethan blinked, caught off guard. He shook his head slowly.

"Not burdened," he said quietly. "Just… confused."

Maya tilted her head, her tone softening slightly. "Confused about what?"

Ethan exhaled, his gaze drifting toward the horizon. "Everything's moving so fast. Just a bit more than a week ago, I was scraping by. Now, I'm building a company, negotiating to buy a football club, and stepping into a world where power is the only currency."

He glanced back at her, his voice steady but introspective. "I'm not sure what to make of it all."

Maya studied him for a moment, her expression surprisingly gentle. "That confusion? It's normal. Everyone faces it at some point. But it doesn't last forever. The path gets clearer the further you walk it."

Mark clapped a hand on Ethan's shoulder, grounding him. "You'll figure it out. Just don't lose sight of why you're walking it in the first place."

Ethan nodded, his resolve flickering back to life. He didn't have all the answers, but he was learning. And for now, that was enough.

***

Alexander stood before the towering steel door, its surface polished to a mirror-like sheen. The quiet hum of the facility surrounded him, a faint vibration in the air that seemed to pulse with purpose.

He removed his shades with a smooth, deliberate motion, revealing his piercing right eye, its iris glowing faintly with a mechanized light.

A scanner extended from the wall, its green beam locking onto his eye. A soft beep followed by a mechanical voice announced, "Access granted."

The door hissed open, revealing the sprawling lab beyond.

The space was alive with activity. Dozens of researchers in white coats darted between workstations, adjusting instruments, testing devices, and poring over data.

The room buzzed with the sound of machinery—metal arms welding, glass chambers hissing, and computers processing streams of incomprehensible data.

Alexander stepped inside, and his presence was immediately noticed.

Every researcher he passed stopped momentarily, offering a respectful nod or murmured greeting before returning to their work. His black boots clicked against the pristine floor, each step a quiet declaration of authority.

He moved with purpose, weaving through the labyrinth of innovation until he reached a smaller, reinforced door at the far end.

The scanner activated again, its beam scanning his right eye. Another soft beep and the door slid open with a faint rush of air.

This room was darker and quieter. It was a stark contrast to the bustling lab outside. Inside, ten figures stood in sterile glass chambers, evenly spaced along the walls.

They were naked, their bodies lean but unnaturally tense. Their eyes were closed, their expressions eerily calm, as if in a deep slumber.

The faint blue light from the chambers illuminated the syringes embedded in their arms. A viscous, amber liquid slowly pumped into their veins from intricate mechanisms attached to the chambers.

The air was heavy with something unspoken, an atmosphere that whispered secrets too dangerous to name.

Alexander's gaze swept over the room, cool and calculating. He seemed unaffected by the chilling sight, as though it were no different from observing a machine being assembled.

The quiet was broken by the sound of footsteps. A man in a lab coat stepped out of the shadows. He had a strong presence but moved slowly and calmly.

Unlike the others, this man did not bow or murmur greetings. His posture was confident, his sharp features carrying an air of intellect and authority that matched Alexander's.

"Professor Jermaine," Alexander said, his tone flat and unwelcoming.

Jermaine nodded slightly and standing with his hands behind him.

Alexander's eyes drifted toward the chambers. "Is everything progressing as planned?"

Jermaine nodded again, stepping to a nearby terminal and pulling up a stream of data. "The mortality rate has dropped to under ten percent," he said, his voice clinical. "A significant improvement compared to where we started."

Alexander tilted his head, his expression unreadable. "Good. And the output?"

Jermaine's jaw tightened slightly. "Seventy-five percent. Still below our target, but better than before."

Alexander's gaze remained fixed on the glowing chambers. "Progress is progress, Professor. Seventy-five percent is close. A hundred percent is within reach."

Jermaine exhaled, his tone cautious. "Perhaps. However, the margin for error grows narrower with each adjustment. And…" He hesitated, glancing at Alexander. "The desired outcome is still unclear to me. What exactly is this project aiming to achieve?"

Alexander turned his head slowly, his sharp eyes meeting Jermaine's. His composure was as steady as stone, his voice cool and deliberate. "That is not for you to know."

Jermaine stiffened slightly, his expression carefully neutral. "Of course."