The problem with smuggling artifacts out of Ruins was the R.E.S, also known as the Ruin Energy Signature. It was the easiest way of measuring and detecting the level of a ruin, artifact, and even a gifted individual. Of course, there was a different device to measure each. And the one that was used on Corpse Collectors could easily detect most, if not, all artifacts. I say most because there were cases of certain people with unique gifts who managed to steal artifacts. As one might imagine, the black market for artifacts was just as profitable as the clean market.

“Next,” The guards intoned as we exited the Ruin.

My heart began beating wildly and my bandaged finger seemed to weigh a ton under the pressure of being discovered.

I breathed deeply, hoping that I wouldn’t be found out.

“Next.”

Maybe it was a bad idea to take an unknown artifact out, especially when I didn’t know how many of the guild members died.

“Next.”

I wonder if I confess at this moment would they knock time off of my sentence. I could just say it latched on to me and I didn’t say anything out of fear.

“Next.”

No, that wouldn’t work. No matter what excuse you used if you left a Ruin with an artifact in your possession you’d face severe penalties. Some stricter countries even sentenced thieves to death.

“I said next!” The soldier shouted.

I quickly realized he was speaking to me so I hurriedly stepped up. He narrowed his eyes at me and I automatically assumed he was suspicious of me but I couldn’t be sure.

“Stand still,” He said before he waved an object that vaguely resembled a handheld metal detector. His expression didn't change at all as he read the numerical value displayed at the base of the scanner.

“Alright, go ahead.” His words brought me immediate relief and I briskly pushed my cargo away.

…

I returned home, half of me was excited while the other half was in a daze. I had seen artifacts many times but there was no way I could ever possess one legally. The price was one thing but there were also special permissions needed to purchase one. It was easy to imagine the amount of chaos that would occur should anyone with a bit of money be allowed to buy an object capable of leveling an apartment complex.

I quickly removed the bandage covering my finger and tugged at the ivory ring which surprisingly came undone.

“Now...could you possibly change into a-”

Before I could finish, the ring turned into the form of a book. I ignored the strange markings and skulls decorating the front and opened it up. And, of course, my anticipation came to a complete halt as the unfamiliar runic alphabet wasn’t something I could read. I focused as hard as I could hoping for some reaction and, surprisingly, something happened, the symbols shook a little bit. Slowly, extremely slowly, the symbols turned into letters I could recognize.

Death is a weapon. Seek the knowledge within these pages to turn it into your own.

Be warned, those who have no affinity with death will meet their end.

“How can I even understand this?”

I flipped past the ominous introduction and a page filled with symbols was slowly decoded in front of me. I was reminded of an old RPG game as I read everything listed.

Choose the path you will walk.

Death Bringer. Roam the battlefield as a personification of death and overwhelm your enemies with sheer power.

Curse Wielder. Weaken your victims until they are broken and feeble before you end their lives.

Death Priest. Seek the guidance of a Deity and receive their blessing. Use your enemies as sacrifices to please the Deity who chooses you.

Dread Sorcerer. Your enemies will see death before it arrives and cower in fear as it greets them.

I let out a short laugh mixed with excitement and amusement as I read the descriptions, the sense of mystique was a bit overridden by the content.

I’m sure that one thousand or so years ago, this book would elicit fear and reverence maybe, but in modern times it seemed a bit surreal. Still, I couldn’t lie and say I wasn’t dying to know more. As it stood, my current gift was simply looking at dead bodies and seeing some of their memories. Just having any of these “paths” was like winning the lottery. The Gifted were celebrities in their own right, power, influence, respect, adoration, those things were all intoxicating benefits. But to be honest, my obsession with death is what drove me to desire more from this book.

“Ahem,” I cleared my throat and changed my perspective.

If I were to look at this like it was a game, the first path would probably deal with physical prowess. The title Death Bringer seemed to indicate an aggressive approach toward combat.

The second path, Curse Wielder, seemed as if it would useful for groups. An individual with a gift that allowed them to weaken enemies would be highly sought after. If what I wanted was money, then, sure, this would be the quickest way to get it. The downsides were that I’d need to rely on other people for it to work.

The third path, Death Priest, wasn’t anything I wanted to dabble in. I heard about people with certain gifts that linked them to spiritual entities. If they lost control then insanity would soon follow. I felt that my compulsion to observe corpses was already a full plate.

The fourth and final path, Dread Sorcerer, seemed similar to the second path with its description but I’m guessing it would allow for a mix of long-range attacks.

I carefully contemplated my choice before narrowing my options down to the first and fourth choices. There were cases of evolving gifts and some of the most famous guilds in the world had individuals with evolving gifts under their command. I wasn’t sure if my path would be set in stone or if it could be altered so I should proceed as if it I couldn’t go back.

I thought about it rationally. What would be better?

If I had skilled people supporting me, I think becoming a ranged-attacker would be great. To do that, I’d need to join a guild and with a rather abundant selection of gifted to choose from, I doubt anyone would accept a newbie so easily. The plus side of choosing a Dread Sorcerer meant I wouldn’t have to throw myself into danger.

Choosing “Death Bringer” would place me in the frontlines but I think that was more beneficial. I’m sure there were some gifted who could be called mages and a good number of them probably never had to fight up close. The experience would help and I could operate without a team built around me. Additionally, since I haven’t heard of anyone with a gift related to death, it would hard to find a freelance team of gifted to support me.

With that in mind, I braced myself and chose Death Bringer. I say chose, but really I just kept repeating it inwardly.

In response, the symbols on the page began to scramble around before a new set of words sat in front of me.

You have chosen to study the path of a Death Bringer. The unique skills of the other paths have been sealed. Additional knowledge is still available within these pages, granted you can afford the cost.

As someone with an affinity with death, you are now able to collect souls from corpses and remains and store them within your body. Focus your mind and you will be able to see the souls of the dead.

Souls of stronger beings have a higher value than normal souls.

The strength of souls degrades over time.

Souls gathered: 0

Path Of The Death Bringer

Bone Restructure (Unique): In order to become a Death Bringer, you will need to be broken and remade.

Price: 15

Novice Rune Inscription: Any weapon can be strengthened by a Death Bringer’s knowledge of runes.

Price: 10

Cost of Advancement: 25

Penelope’s Dance (Unique): Learn the fighting style created by the first Death Bringer, a woman who roamed the battlefield with soft steps, gracing her enemies with death.

Price: 25

Bone Mending: Your bones are not indestructible but with this ability, you will learn to lose the fear of them being broken.

Price: 10

Wilma’s War Scythe (Unique): Recreate a weapon wielded by an otherworldly being who served under a powerful Entity. There is no need for metal, this weapon can be forged from bones.

Price: 50

To further explore this path more souls are needed.

Current Amount: 0/250

To abandon this path and select a new one, more souls are needed.

Current: Amount: 0/500

I trembled with glee as I read everything.

“Stay calm.” I took a deep breath and turned the page.

There have been many to explore every aspect of death, to purchase the fruit of their labor, you must have the required amount of souls.

Cursed Blood: Should an enemy spill your blood, let them understand the price that comes with it.

Price: 25

Blood Arrow: Use your own blood or the blood of another to fire a poisonous projectile.

Price: 25

Corpse Puppet (Basic): Raise an unintelligent undead servant.

Price: 30

Cost of Advancement: 50

Skeleton Soldier(Basic): Raise a skeletal warrior to defend you.

Price: 30

Cost of Advancement: 50

Demon Pact: Enhance your body’s physical strength, increase your intelligence, or gain a fortune, by making a pact with a demon. When a pact is made, the demon will receive a portion of all of your souls for the duration of the pact. (Warning, not many demons can be trusted, show caution when dealing with them.)

Cost: 40

To further explore the knowledge within this book, more souls are needed.

Current Amount: 0/250

I continued turning pages, but they came up blank which I took as proof I needed to add more souls.

I closed the book and placed it on my coffee table before standing up and heading into my bedroom. My destination? The closet where I stored the...well, the skeletons I’ve collected over the years. I rummaged through for a moment, moving around a few well-placed boxes before a wall of plastic containers of varying sizes was revealed. Each one held the skeletons of dozens of animals from mice to cats and small dogs inside of them. I know it was weird to have but as I’ve said, I was obsessed with death.

I did as the book instructed, and calmed my mind before small white flames filled the space in front of me.

“Jackpot,” I mumbled and the souls began to float toward me. They sunk into my chest and I felt a slightly warm feeling cover my body. I closed my eyes and enjoyed it for a while until it suddenly stopped. I opened my eyes and could no longer see any of the tiny white flames near the remains so I returned to my living room and grabbed the book.

Souls gathered: 50

The number was a bit disappointing if I were to be honest. I expected a few dozen animals net me a higher gain but it was greedy to ask for more after I already “received” the book for free.

If the order of the skills listed were by importance, Bone Restructure was a must. That left me with 35. The skills that had no relation to the Death Bringer path were all twenty-five and above so I ignored them for the time being.

I couldn’t fight, I had no background with self-defense or swordsmanship or anything else that was meant to hurt other living things. So I would have to get Penelope’s Dance, even if the name wasn’t very intimidating, I wasn’t concerned. After all, the description seemed to evaluate her highly.

With only 10 left, my choices were restricted to the knowledge of runes and Bone Mending. If I was set on entering Ruins the latter would be immensely useful. But, well, without Wilma’s War Scythe, I needed a weapon. The price of an effective weapon was already immensely high and armor, healing supplies, and registration for Ruin Clearing would cost enough as is. It seemed that inscribing runes could help make cheap weapons better. So, I chose it, hoping I wouldn’t suffer too much.

“That’s right!” I recalled the huge market of groundbreaking medicine and smiled. If I ended up in an accident, I could just buy items to make up for the lack of Bone Mending. And if I managed to kill well enough, I could easily purchase Bone Mending at a later time.

With my mind made up, I thought of the three skills in my head and my body became frozen stiff as the souls I collected were drained from me. It was uncomfortable, to say the least, but I knew I shouldn’t complain.

The skills disappeared from the page of the book and three new memories appeared in my head. And with them came the understanding that I needed to meditate or at least, find somewhere quiet to absorb the knowledge that was brought with them.

I restrained the eagerness I had and instead began to make preparations to register as a gifted person. I quickly pulled up a webpage on my phone and filled out an application online. Name, date of birth, current residence, and other things until I came to the section that told me to describe the nature of my gift as best I can.

The one thing I couldn’t do, at least not at this moment, was tell anyone I could see the memories of corpses. If I were to say that now, the guilds involved with the incident at the Eighth Street ruin site would become suspicious. It was already bad enough that my gift involved the dead and I was a Corpse Collector. My occupation would put me under enough scrutiny as is. There would probably be questions if I had already tampered with corpses before but I hadn’t. As long as you didn’t count staring as tampering.

I sighed and typed “Necromancy” before hitting send. I almost immediately received a text telling me to come to the nearest facility with the required amount of money to be tested. Even with a steep testing fee, there were still hundreds of people who either mistakenly believed they had gifts or simply hoped they had and used the testing facility. With that being so, there was usually a long queue to stand in.

The next thing to do was to resign from my job. I knew that I would have access to higher quality souls if I pretended to be a normal person for a few more weeks but, I didn’t want to be discovered siphoning souls from the deceased members of guilds. It was easy to imagine them calling for repercussions if I was found out.

Also, it was illegal to knowingly hide your gift which resulted in compulsory government service under strict watch. The people who did so ended up with the unique occupation of being a soldier who cleared government-owned Ruins and prisoner simultaneously. The easiest way to imagine why the punishment was so high was to think of someone who discovered a cache of weapons and simply took them home.

I dialed the number to Resting Place Retrieval and began to smile. I was eager to see the faces of my co-workers when they heard I had awoken to a gift. The only regret I had is that I probably wouldn't be able to.