The ULTIMATE EXPERIENCE SYSTEM
Chapter 73: LORA

Chapter 73: LORA

I sat hunched on the edge of my bed, back in the safety of my villa. But there was no comfort in its silence.

Tears slid down my face—silent, bitter, unstoppable.

The flood of memories refused to slow. One after another, they crashed into me, carving deep scars into my consciousness.

"I was... such a loser," I whispered, voice cracking.

Not in the way of power. No—back then, I was an A-rank Challenger. A rare healer. Respected, even admired. But compared to now, I was powerless. Blind. Trusting.

"My name was Chen Yu..." I murmured, barely recognizing it anymore.

I had parents. I only got to know that recently, after the seal shattered. Their faces had faded long before I awakened in this new world, but now their warmth, their smiles, their deaths... it all came flooding back.

The truth twisted my gut.

None of this—none of this power, this system, this rebirth—was mine. In my previous life, I didn’t have the Ultimate Experience System. I had only the common one—the Challenger System. And now I realized... the moment my mental strength surpassed the system’s design, I broke free.

And what did I learn?

The so-called past... was a lie stitched into my soul. A tailored narrative. A script.

"I wasn’t killed by demons," I spat the words out like poison. "It was humans. The same ones I tried to protect."

A hollow laugh escaped me. "Ironic, isn’t it? We always blamed the beasts, the demons, the invaders... but the true monsters wore human faces."

I clenched my fists until my nails drew blood.

"There was no apocalyptic war," I said aloud to no one. "No unifying battle between races. Not in my past life."

Instead... there was peace. Manufactured, manipulated peace.

The man behind it all? Morgan.

Humanity’s so-called savior. The only SSS-rank ever born among humans back then. He rose like a messiah, convincing the world to embrace harmony with demons and beasts. A hero in the eyes of all.

Even mine.

I admired him. Not blindly, but deeply. He was strong, calm, strategic. And most importantly... he knew I existed.

We weren’t close, but we weren’t strangers. I was one of the few A-rank healers—a rare commodity. He’d nodded to me once, during a summit. It meant the world back then.

And then... the day that destroyed everything.

My best friend, Lora—bright, kind, fierce—was going to be a mother. Her husband was thrilled. They’d invited me to their home, asking me to bless the newborn with healing and protection.

It was a beautiful day.

She’d even called in a woman who had the [Fortune Teller] trait—someone who could gauge a newborn’s potential. When she checked the child... her eyes widened in disbelief.

"SSS-ranked potential," she whispered, barely audible.

Lora and her husband were overjoyed. Their child was a miracle.

But something... was off.

After delivering the prediction, the fortune teller left hurriedly. I noticed her step aside and speak into a communicator. Her expression had changed. Stern. Cold.

A chill ran through me.

That night, I couldn’t sleep. Something gnawed at my gut. So I returned to their home.

I rang the bell once. Twice. No answer.

I waited.

Then I pushed the door open—it wasn’t locked.

Inside... silence.

"Lora?" I called out.

No response.

The house felt wrong. Too quiet. The scent of iron filled the air.

I walked down the hallway, heart thudding. When I reached the bedroom... I opened the door.

And my world shattered.

Her husband was tied to a chair—his body mutilated, split in half, blood still warm on the floor. The child was... gone. Cold. Lifeless.

And Lora—Lora lay sprawled on the bed, her body exposed, her eyes wide open in terror.

As a healer, I could feel it instantly—she had been... violated.

"No... no... no!" I rushed to her, hands glowing with healing light. "Lora, please! Wake up! Don’t do this to me...!"

Tears blurred my vision. My spells failed. Her soul was gone.

I fell to my knees, broken. Screaming.

"WHY?! WHO DID THIS?!"

Then—bang!

A hard boot crashed into my back. I hit the ground, dazed.

"What the—"

"Chen Yu," a cold voice spoke. "You’re under arrest for the murder of this family."

I turned and saw them.

Three awakened officers. Men I had seen in news reports. Strong. Ruthless.

One of them—Detective Haran—was A-rank like me. His face twisted in false pity.

"Such a waste," he said, looking me over. "A rare healer, reduced to a criminal. Could’ve been useful."

Behind him, the two other officers laughed.

Then Haran turned to Lora’s body... and his eyes darkened. His tongue ran across his lips.

I froze.

"What are you—"

"She still looks warm," he muttered.

"You bastard!" I launched at him in fury.

But I was no fighter.

He caught my punch mid-air and drove his knee into my stomach. I collapsed, coughing blood.

"Chain him," he ordered. "I’ll take my time with her."

"No! No, you f*cking animal!" I roared. "She’s DEAD!"

But they didn’t care.

They dragged me away like trash. I screamed until my throat bled. I was thrown into prison—cold, dark, and silent.

No trial. No explanation. No justice.

The next day, the news reported the "heinous crime" committed by Chen Yu, a once-trusted healer who lost his mind and murdered a family.

No one questioned it.

The cell was dark, but not darker than the thoughts consuming me.

I sat slumped in the corner, wrists bound, bruises decorating my skin like shameful reminders. The metal bars stood tall in front of me, but what truly imprisoned me... was despair.

Still, a flicker of hope stirred within.

Morgan... he’ll help.

He had to.

Morgan—humanity’s greatest hero. A distant friend. Acquainted with Lora too. If anyone could uncover the truth, it was him.

So I sent word through the guards.

They scoffed, but when they heard the name, their arrogance dimmed.

They passed the message.

And to my surprise... he came.

An hour later, the heavy doors creaked open. Footsteps echoed against the stone floor—calm, unhurried.

Then I saw him.

Morgan.

The man I had once admired. Dressed in his signature black long coat, his expression unreadable. His very presence seemed to command the air around him.

I stood, heart pounding, forcing my battered body upright.

"Morgan," I called out.

He stopped outside the bars.

For a moment, he said nothing.

Then he smiled.

A cold, smug smile.

"Well, well... look at you," he said, his voice dripping with amusement. "Chen Yu. The miracle healer. An A-rank. Hailed as a saint."

He chuckled.

"Now reduced to a rotting mutt in a prison cell. How poetic."

My breath caught.

"Morgan... I didn’t do it. You know me. You know I wouldn’t—"

"I know," he interrupted, still smiling. "I know exactly what happened."

Relief surged in me for a moment.

But then he stepped closer.

Too close.

He leaned in until his lips were almost at my ear.

His voice dropped into a whisper.

"She struggled until her last breath."

My blood ran cold.

"What...?"

"It was thrilling," he said, savoring each word like venom. "The way she screamed, the way her husband cried, broken, forced to watch it all unfold."

He pulled back slowly, eyes gleaming with perverse satisfaction.

That’s when it hit me.

"No..." I whispered, trembling. "It was you..."

Morgan grinned.

"Yes. It was me. And you know what’s funny?" he said, licking the blood from a cut on his knuckle. "They thought they could hide an SSS-ranked child. My system detected it the moment that woman used her trait."

He scoffed.

"They should’ve handed the baby over like good citizens. But instead, they begged. Fought. Pleaded."

His gaze turned darker.

"So I showed them what defiance costs."

"You’re a monster," I said, my voice trembling with fury.

He laughed again. "Oh, come on, don’t act surprised. You really believed all that ’hero of humanity’ bullshit? I’ve done worse than this, Chen. To people far more important."

He stepped back and looked around.

"And no one stops me. No one. You think they’d believe you? A disgraced healer accused of murder?"

He turned his back to me.

I snapped.

The slash landed.

A red gash opened on Morgan’s cheek.

For a moment, time seemed to freeze.

His smile disappeared.

His hand rose slowly to touch the blood. He stared at it. Not in pain. Not in fear.

But in disbelief.

"You... dared to draw my blood?" he muttered, voice low and trembling—not with weakness, but cold rage.

I took a step back, breath ragged. That cut... it felt like justice. Like everything Lora endured had screamed through my hand in that instant.

But Morgan didn’t fall.

Instead, he laughed—a short, hollow laugh that made my stomach twist.

"A healer... striking a god."

He looked up, eyes darker than I’d ever seen. The air around him thickened with killing intent.

"Did you really think I wouldn’t prepare for this?"

Before I could react, a searing pain exploded in my chest.

I gasped, stumbling backward.

Blood.

I coughed, and crimson sprayed from my lips.

"Wha—?"

My vision blurred.

Morgan stood calmly, brushing the blood from his cheek, and revealing a glowing glyph etched into his arm where the cut had landed.

"You thought I’d come see you without precautions?" he said, tilting his head. "The moment your attack connected, the rune I carved into my skin activated. A blood curse. One drop was enough."

I fell to my knees, hands clutching at my chest. My heart was burning from the inside.

"Morgan..." I wheezed.

"Save your breath."

He crouched in front of me, his expression no longer masked by any pretense of kindness.

"You want to know how I found out about the baby’s potential?" he said. "It wasn’t my system."

He leaned in, his whisper cold as death.

"The fortune teller. She contacted me the moment she read the child’s fate. An SSS-ranked anomaly in a poor man’s house? That kind of threat doesn’t go unnoticed."

"You... knew all along..." I choked.

"Of course I did. You think I let miracles grow in gutters?" he scoffed. "No. We own the future. We decide who rises."

I collapsed completely, body trembling.

Tears welled in my eyes—not from the pain, but from the crushing weight of betrayal.

"I trusted you," I whispered.

Morgan stood.

"And that was your last mistake."

My vision dimmed.

But in those fading seconds, I saw his face one last time. Not the mask of the world’s greatest hero, but the face of a devil smiling beneath divine light.

"I’ll tell them you confessed," he said, walking away. "That in your guilt, you begged for death. A martyr’s end for a traitor."

The door slammed shut behind him.

And just like that... I was gone.

A healer. A fool. A man who thought the system made him special.

In the end, it wasn’t demons or beasts who killed me.

It was a man.

And his name was Morgan.