Privacy, Secrets, and Social Networks

Lance stared, but the more he thought about it, the more something felt wrong.

Images from that improper game from his previous life instantly flashed through his mind.

In that game, the so-called "Compendium" feature recorded nothing but close-ups of the heroines after they were defeated, along with detailed statistics on how many times each part of their bodies had been struck.

"No way, right?"

Lance's mouth twitched as he looked at Hakon lying on the ground like a dead pig, horror in his eyes.

If he were forced to watch "defeat close-ups" of this greasy middle-aged man in his mind, it would not just be mental pollution—it would be visual bullying on a whole different level.

That would drain his sanity way too fast.

Lance took a deep breath, prepared to shut his eyes the instant anything looked wrong, and tremblingly opened the new Compendium feature.

As the panel unfolded, no nauseating images appeared.

There was only a half-body sketch of Hakon, accompanied by densely packed text and data.

"Whew..."

Lance let out a long breath, and his suspended heart finally settled back into place.

Thankfully, this real-world system had still been censored.

This Compendium feature actually recorded Hakon's basic information, current condition, precise attributes, and skill levels in detail.

Aside from himself, this was the first time Lance had been able to directly view someone else's detailed panel.

Name: Hakon

Status: Mild intoxication, unconsciousness, mild concussion

Attributes: Strength 9, Constitution 8...

Looking at that string of data, Lance secretly felt fortunate.

This drunkard who spent all day soaking in taverns had a Strength of 9 and a Constitution of 8, nearly reaching the threshold of a First-Tier Class.

After all this time of hellish training, Lance's Strength had only just reached 6.

There was an obvious gap between them in terms of basic attributes.

If this guy had not been drunk out of his mind, and if Lance had not chosen to strike first and caught him off guard with a sneak attack...

If they had faced each other head-on, it really would have been hard to say who would win.

"As expected, even a lion uses its full strength to hunt a rabbit. Sneak attacks are the true way."

Lance silently gave his tactics a thumbs-up.

However, as he continued reading, he found something that truly surprised him.

The core—and most valuable—part of this Compendium was not those few cold lines of attribute data.

At the very bottom of the panel, it actually recorded the other person's private secrets, along with a complicated social network.

[Hakon's Secrets]

[Secret One: He has been having nightmares every day recently, and his mental state is terrible. The cause was that half a month ago, while burying a teammate who had died in an accident, he casually stole the burial dagger from the corpse. Now, every night, he dreams of that teammate standing at his bedside with a face full of blood, asking him for a toothpick.]

[Secret Two: He once got into a vicious fight with a teammate over the distribution of several copper coins' worth of loot. In truth, he was jealous because that teammate was handsome and had won the favor of the female teammates. He had been looking for an excuse to lash out for a long time.]

[Secret Three...]

After reading those secrets, Lance looked at the swollen face on the ground with an odd expression.

Not only were this guy's hands sticky, his mind was as narrow as the eye of a needle.

"So you picked a fight with me purely because you were jealous that I'm handsome?"

Unable to hold himself back, Lance raised his foot and gave Hakon another hard kick in the ass.

That explained it.

For someone as mentally twisted as Hakon, the very existence of a "pretty boy" like Lance was an original sin.

Lance shook his head and continued by opening the [Social Network] option.

A massive tree diagram unfolded before him.

Hakon's portrait sat in the very center, with dozens of lines of varying thickness extending outward, connecting to unfamiliar names and portraits.

The system's labels were extremely intuitive.

Green lines represented friendliness. The brighter they were, the better the relationship.

Red lines represented hostility. The darker the color, the greater the hatred.

Amid that web of intertwining red and green, Lance immediately spotted the glowing point representing himself.

A thick reddish line connected it directly to Hakon's portrait.

That meant Lance was already an enemy in Hakon's eyes.

"So anyone I defeat gets recorded in this Compendium."

Lance pondered it.

That meant that as long as someone had been defeated by him once, they would lose all their secrets before him.

Their weaknesses, embarrassing history, and hidden connections would all be laid bare.

He just did not know whether the information in this Compendium updated automatically in real time, or whether he would need to beat the person up again to refresh the data.

But no matter what, this feature was extremely useful. In the future, if anyone he defeated harbored resentment, Lance would be able to notice it.

He could even strike first.

Know yourself and know your enemy, and you will never be defeated.

With this, he would be able to tell at a glance who was human and who was a ghost.

"This time, I really struck gold."

Satisfied, Lance closed the system panel.

Glancing at Hakon sprawled on the ground like a dead dog, he rubbed his chin as he recalled the secret he had just read.

He had beaten the man, but it seemed that his anger had not completely subsided.

He crouched down, held his breath, and deftly untied the bulging money pouch from Hakon's waist.

"I'll take this as compensation for my emotional damages."

Lance weighed the pouch in his hand and tucked it into his chest without the slightest guilt.

Money belonging to scum like this would only end up benefiting passing vagrants or other thieves if it stayed here.

Without lingering, he swiftly disappeared into the alley.

As for whether Hakon would suffocate while lying in urine, or catch a cold from the chill, that was no longer Lance's concern.

This was within the constables' patrol area. At most, someone making the night rounds would come within half an hour and drag him away like a dead pig.

Back in the cramped attic.

Lance locked the door behind him and eagerly poured the spoils from the money pouch onto the table.

"Clatter, clatter."

The crisp, pleasant sound of metal colliding echoed through the quiet room.

Looking at the pile of gleaming silver coins on the table, Lance's eyes shone.

He counted them roughly. There were more than thirty silver coins, along with a large handful of copper coins.

The profits were simply astonishing.

After all, he worked painstakingly as a copyist for an entire month and only made a net income of sixteen silver coins.

One blow to the back of the head had earned him two months' wages outright.

"Robbery is actually this profitable..."

For a moment, the dangerous thought of moonlighting as a masked vigilante at night even surfaced in Lance's mind.

But he snuffed it out after only a second.

Walk by the river often enough, and eventually your shoes will get wet.

This world was full of hidden talents. Who knew whether some drunkard was actually a retired powerhouse concealing his strength?

If he kicked an iron plate, he could lose his life.

Lance picked up a silver coin and flicked it with his thumb.

The silver coin spun through the air before landing steadily back in his palm.

"Lucky day."

This unexpected windfall would be enough to support his high-intensity training expenses for quite some time.

Thinking of Amber's resentful little look when he left today, Lance decided to buy her a decent gift tomorrow to make it up to her.

After all, if he took someone else's money, he ought to do some good deeds to build up his karma.

After carefully hiding the money, Lance turned his gaze toward the windowsill.

The jars of Blood-Clotting Moss that had been drying in the shade for several days had completely lost their moisture and become dark brown dry clumps.

Lance skillfully crushed and ground them into fine powder.

As the final step was completed, the system notification arrived as expected.

[Personally collected, dried, and produced 30 ounces of Blood-Clotting Moss Powder. Research complete.]

Lance immediately summoned the Research panel.

The [Hemostatic Ointment (Improving)] task bar that had originally been hanging there had disappeared.

This left him slightly surprised.

He had expected that, perhaps like in a game, a new and more advanced recipe blueprint would be unlocked.

But reality was not like that.

This Research task seemed to be one-time only, and it had not changed the recipe for Hemostatic Ointment. It was more like a "permanent enhancement" to Lance's personal skill.

Although he did not know exactly how that enhancement would manifest.

Practice was the sole criterion for testing truth.

Lance did not dwell on it. He would find out after trying it.

He dragged a cage out from under the bed. Inside was a gray-furred wild rabbit he had casually caught that afternoon.

The poor little creature was trembling, completely unaware that it was about to sacrifice itself for medical science.

Lance set up a simple crucible and lit an alcohol lamp.

Following the steps that had already become second nature to him, he poured the moss powder into an oil base and began stirring slowly.

From time to time, he added some other herbs.

Before long, a jar of dark green ointment with a faint herbal fragrance was ready.

The process was so simple that it could not even generate a skill.

After waiting for the ointment to cool and solidify naturally, Lance took out a jar of the most common Ordinary Hemostatic Ointment on the market from his backpack.

The experiment began.

He took out the short dagger seized from Hakon and skillfully cut two wounds of equal depth into the rabbit's hind leg.

Blood immediately welled out.

Lance reacted swiftly, applying his newly made ointment to one wound and the store-bought Ordinary ointment to the other.

"Let's see the results..."

Lance leaned in to observe, his gaze focused.

After only a few seconds, the difference became visible to the naked eye.

The wound treated with the Ordinary ointment was still seeping blood after half a minute, though the flow had slowed.

As for the wound treated with Lance's special version.

In the same amount of time, the blood pouring out seemed to have been locked in place by some invisible force, rapidly clotting.

A tough dark-red medicinal film completely sealed the wound, and not a trace of blood seeped out again.