When the sail of Captain JOE’s tiny vessel finally dissolved into the shimmering haze of the horizon, the silence of the island was shattered by a joyful, almost triumphant exclamation.
"Eni, you’ve grown stronger!" The Voice was practically dripping with self-congratulation, as if it were the one who had just defeated the pirate.
Eni froze, listening to her own body. She expected lightning behind her eyes or mountains of steel muscle to erupt, but... nothing. Inside, there was the same hollow void, seasoned only by the tight, familiar pressure of the corset. "I don't feel a damn thing," she grumbled, heading toward the pier to vacate this scrap of land that had become far too cramped.
She took one step, then another, and suddenly realized her legs were moving with an uncanny lightness, as if gravity had decided to give her a discount. Miscalculating her own inertia, Eni tripped over a protruding plank on the pier and pitched forward with a heavy lunge. But instead of the dull thud of flesh hitting wood, there was a strange, solid crack, like a sack of sand or something skeletal hitting the decking.
"Hey, Voice... what kind of 'strength' was that?" Eni asked, still lying face down. She felt no pain from the impact, only a slight numbness.
"Oh, I’ve been waiting for this question!" The Voice was clearly relishing the moment. "Your Vitality has increased by 60%. Your Speed is up by 5%, and your Defense has surged by a full 15%. And the best part for a... resourceful diva like yourself: you can now gather resources 50% faster! Oh, and the Taint from monsters is now attracted to you 5% more effectively."
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Eni remained motionless, staring into the gaps between the floorboards. A cold, sharp fury began to simmer within her. She had suffered so much, her ribs had groaned in the corset, she had endured the mockery of fate and fainted in the dirt for... five percent speed? So she could swing a pickaxe faster?!
"That’s it...?" she spat, slowly rising and brushing off her uniform. It infuriated her, but arguing with the system was a fool’s errand. She silently gathered her things and set out.
The following seven days turned into an agonizing marathon. The world seemed determined to test her new "percentages" to their breaking point. Over the week, she encountered four skeletons. Two of them had already been reduced to piles of splintered bone by the crossbow bolts of those same clumsy brigands she’d seen in the mangroves.
However, luck found her in a different form. Eni stumbled upon one of the bandits' supply depots. While they were off marauding elsewhere, she—driven by cunning and a long-standing grudge—picked their stores clean. She took all their food, sacks of coin, and, in a display of sheer greed and female strength, managed to shove two massive anvils into the spatial pocket beneath her hem. Afterward, the hem of her uniform felt significantly heavier, but Eni only tightened her laces further, feeling the weight of the fabric force her to stand even straighter.
By the week's end, she reached a small but bustling village. There, she finally refilled Bartolomeo's leather flask and "purchased" (though the Voice would use a different word) several necessities.
That evening, as Eni finally stretched out on a hard bed in the local tavern, blissfully feeling the steel of the corset support her exhausted spine, voices drifted up from below. The patrons in the common room spoke in hushed, strained tones.
Eni listened intently, catching fragments of conversation through the cracks in the floorboards. "...the skies were crimson yesterday," one whispered. "The omens do not lie," another replied with a trembling voice. "Something powerful is invading this world..."
