System Awakening Era: I Have 10x Skill Effects-Chapter 29: Pay with Life

Aamon dashed forward without warning, swinging his sword until it clashed against the bandit’s blade. The man flinched, raising his weapon to block Aamon’s attack.

But Aamon’s strength was far greater, sending the bandit flying backward. He hit the ground, then quickly got back on his feet.

He was shocked. He had never expected Aamon to be this strong, strong enough to push him back so easily. His friends rushed in to help, two other men pointing toward Aamon.

"You’ve gone too far, damn it!" they shouted.

They summoned their swords and lunged forward. Aamon moved swiftly, dodging their attacks with ease. Their movements were easy for him to read.

Seeing an opening, Aamon immediately took advantage of it. He moved and activated a blue aura from his body, glowing brightly along his body and the blade of his sword.

[Sword Skill: First Thrust]

Aamon thrust his sword forward, piercing into one of them. The massive true damage sent the man flying back, crashing into his teammate beside him.

Both bandits fell. Aamon remained standing in place, completely unaffected.

He turned his sharp gaze forward, leaving the two remaining women who had not been attacked yet. Aamon gripped his sword tightly and leaped forward, targeting them.

"Stop!"

Aamon was caught off guard. A fireball shot from behind the two women, heading straight at him. Instinctively, he activated his assassin skill.

[Assassin Skill: Shadow Stealth]

In an instant, Aamon disappeared, entering stealth mode for eight seconds. He locked onto one of the women, the one holding a staff who had just arrived to assist the bandits.

He moved silently, unnoticed by all of them. Even the woman had no idea. They all looked shocked, never expecting Aamon to have a stealth skill.

"Where is he?" the mage woman asked.

"We don’t know."

Eight seconds passed. Aamon reappeared behind the mage, extending his sword and placing the blade close to her neck.

One wrong move, and he would slit her throat without hesitation.

The woman froze in shock, her eyes wide and mouth slightly open. She glanced back and saw Aamon standing behind her, threatening.

"You? How did you get a stealth skill?"

"That’s because of my class, idiot," Aamon said coldly.

"Oh," she replied. "You’re an assassin?"

Aamon narrowed his eyes, his gaze sharp and cold. "And you’re a mage."

"What do you want?" she asked.

"Simple," Aamon replied. "Don’t interfere with me until I pass through your territory."

"You’re not planning to destroy our group? You’re wearing military clothes. You’re part of the Army, right?"

"I have nothing to do with you!" Aamon said firmly.

Seeing the woman held hostage, the bandits could do nothing. One careless move, and Aamon could kill her instantly.

Her death would be their worst nightmare.

"You don’t know my status in this group, do you?" she asked.

"I... don’t care."

The woman in Aamon’s grasp fell silent for a moment, then let out a slow breath and shifted her gaze forward. She looked at the man who led the bandits at the eastern border.

"Give him the red ribbon," she said.

"But he didn’t pay—"

"Do you want Steven to take your head for my death?!" she snapped, cutting him off.

That was a real threat they could not ignore if Aamon decided to slit her throat. Everyone in Shadow Arc knew who she was and her connection to Steven.

Without hesitation, the man stepped forward and tied a red ribbon around Aamon’s arm, a simple mark that allowed him to pass through the highway without interference.

"You bastard," the man muttered.

"I’m strong, and you’re weak. You should’ve realized that," Aamon replied.

"Bring the motorcycle," Aamon ordered.

The two men pushed his motorcycle over until it stood right beside him. The engine was already running.

With a swift and forceful motion, Aamon kicked the woman forward, sending her back into the arms of the bandits.

He got on his motorcycle and sped away. The bandits tried to chase him, but it was useless. His motorcycle was far faster than they could run.

"Damn it! We lost out!" the bandit leader complained.

"What?" the woman snapped, shocked. "You care more about profit than my life?"

"No, that’s not what I meant, Miss—"

"I’ll report all of you for negligence. Let Steven decide your punishment!"

Elsewhere, Aamon rode calmly while observing the nearest rest area. He glanced over and saw more than twenty people there, dressed in black and assigned to various tasks.

Noticing someone passing through their territory, their attention shifted toward the road. Their eyes narrowed, but their focus landed on Aamon’s arm.

When they saw the ribbon, they did not interfere. That was their principle for survivors who had paid the toll.

Aamon felt slightly relieved. Fighting all of them would have been exhausting. Avoiding conflict was to his advantage.

He passed the rest area and continued riding at high speed. Up ahead, his attention was caught by three bandits standing in the middle of the road.

They stopped him. "Stop."

Aamon stayed fully alert as the three approached him. They were not here to collect another toll.

"Take off the ribbon."

He paused, then removed it and handed it over. The three examined the ribbon, noticing the small logo that proved he had already paid.

"You can go."

Aamon was impressed. They had a layered system to check everyone passing through their territory. The small logo on the red ribbon allowed them to instantly verify a survivor’s status.

He sped off again, leaving the area behind and refusing to deal with them any further. His destination was clear now. Indianapolis.

The journey continued. Aamon only stopped when his motorcycle needed fuel. It took him eight hours to finally reach Indianapolis.

He brought his motorcycle to a stop in front of a road sign that read Indianapolis City.

After two days of travel, I finally made it.

From behind, a truck filled with people drove along the highway, passing Aamon as he rested.

He observed them clearly. Red and black uniforms, a flag with a stitched emblem waving. They were clearly part of a faction within the city, not the Army.

They briefly glanced at Aamon, then ignored him. The truck continued into the city, as if it was their territory.

A large city. Many survivors. Factions rising and growing.

Hopefully nothing troublesome happens to me here.