My attributes are increasing infinitely Chapter 457: Slum district

Shadows enveloped Ethan from all sides.

His eyes fluttered open, revealing only blackness. Not a single ray of light penetrated the gloom. The atmosphere hung heavy, moist, and reeked of decay. A viscous substance adhered to his flesh. His form seemed extraordinarily tiny, weighed down, and frail.

"Status."

A see-through interface emerged in his mind.

[Master: Ethan Hunt

Physique: 200 gm

Spirit: 200 gm

Talent: Infinite Comprehension

Age: 1 day]

Silence gripped him for an instant.

"Yumiko," he thought silently. "Where am I?"

A short delay ensued.

[Master, you are inside a dustbin. You were discarded here shortly after birth. Your biological parents could not afford to feed another child.]

Ethan attempted to raise his arm.

It quivered feebly and scarcely shifted.

The world had reborn him as an infant and cast him into the trash.

The stench assaulted his nostrils. The oppressive pressure of the cover pressed down from overhead. Famine clawed at his minuscule belly like a knife.

His breathing turned ragged.

"How can I possibly endure this?" he wondered aloud in his mind. For the first time since stepping into the tower, intense desperation flooded his mind. "I’ll choke before the challenge truly starts."

[When pedestrians approach, I will notify you. You must cry. There is a statistical probability that someone will investigate.]

Cry.

Ethan nearly chuckled at the ridiculousness. A entity that had ripped through dimensions now relied on primal sobbing.

Two hours dragged on in choking obscurity.

[Master. Someone is approaching.]

Ethan drew in the scant tainted air available and pushed noise from his delicate larynx.

"Wa... wa..."

The wail emerged faint and feeble.

Steps hesitated briefly.

Then they resumed.

The cover stayed shut.

Quietness settled once more.

[He has left. Conserve energy for later.]

In the following two hours, the cycle repeated itself. Ethan wailed three additional times. Once more forcefully. Once in sheer desperation. Once with deliberate timing.

No one lifted the cover.

In the slums, forsaken babies were commonplace.

Starvation intensified further over these four hours. His sight dimmed even in the pitch black.

"Is there another way?" he inquired.

[There is the third protocol. However, the strain may permanently damage your current vessel. Survival probability is low.]

Before Ethan could reply, steps drew near once more.

This time, they moved faster. More hastily.

A female voice sliced through the noise of the road.

"Those idiots cannot even use protection. They ruin their lives and then toss the child like trash."

The cover grated aside.

Brightness poured inside.

Ethan squinted as chilly wind hit his features. A youthful female gazed at him from above. Her locks were pulled back casually. Her garments were threadbare yet spotless. Her face held a stern look.

Then her eyes met his.

She paused.

"You are still alive," she grumbled.

She extended her arms and picked him up. Her grip was calloused yet firm.

"I will take you out of here," she stated tonelessly. "Then I will hand you to the beggar syndicate. Whether you live or die after that is your luck."

To her, it was merely clearing waste from the pathway.

To Ethan, she represented a factor that reshaped his fate.

"Lady, you have no idea what karma you just claimed," he pondered steadily.

She furrowed her brow a bit.

"Why are your eyes like that?"

Ethan’s stare remained fixed, remarkably sharp for a baby. Briefly, she sensed she was the one under scrutiny.

"Do not look at me like that," she instructed, cradling him to her bosom. "I cannot afford to raise you. I cannot even feed myself properly."

She kept on striding.

The slum sprawled around them with fractured pavement and sheet metal walls. Wastewater flowed in slim channels. Kids with sunken faces observed them without a word.

After a few paces, she decelerated.

Then halted.

She swore softly.

"I do not know what I am thinking."

Rather than heading to the syndicate’s area, she veered the other way.

Her name was Liria.

Her dwelling consisted of barely one tight space featuring a damaged mattress and a corroded cooker. She set Ethan down softly on the mattress and warmed liquid on a tiny fire.

She cleansed him thoroughly, wiping away grime and congealed gore. Her actions were clumsy yet gentle.

"You are troublesome," she grumbled. "You look like trouble."

Once he was clean, she bundled him in worn fabrics and laid him on the mattress.

"I will try to find milk," she declared prior to departing.

As the entrance closed, Ethan turned his attention inside.

"Yumiko. World structure."

[This planet is named Xylem. It once belonged to a higher energy civilization eons ago. Residual traces remain in geological layers, but there is no accessible cosmic energy. It is currently a standard mortal world.]

"Combat potential?"

[Advanced firearms, industrial technology. Certain martial lineages exist. Exceptional individuals can deflect bullets or shatter stone. However, no one surpasses biological limitations.]

Ethan pondered this information.

"So becoming the strongest within a year is not the real obstacle. The true task is locating the Axe of Chaos."

[Correct. The administrators may be testing your adaptability under suppression.]

He breathed out gradually.

"They want me to wait while other God Children cultivate."

[That is likely.]

Ethan gazed up at the fissured roof.

"It does not matter. They misunderstand something fundamental."

Half an hour afterward, the entrance swung ajar.

Liria came in alongside another female. The other was slimmer, cradling a little girl.

"Sofia," Liria whispered. "Thank you for coming. I will repay you somehow."

Sofia offered a weary grin.

"You rescued a child. I was curious. But my daughter needs milk too. I can only spare a little."

Her eyes turned toward Ethan.

She stiffened.

"Now I understand."

"What?" Liria inquired.

"He does not look like a slum child."

Sofia settled next to the mattress and carefully raised Ethan. She rearranged her attire and nursed him.

Warmth flowed across his frame.

The ache in his gut subsided.

For the first time since his rebirth, a sense of security washed over him.

"I can only give this much today," Sofia murmured gently. "I will return tomorrow."

"Thank you," Liria answered, dipping her head a touch.

Once Sofia departed, Liria swaddled Ethan snugger.

"The night will be cold," she whispered.

Five days elapsed.

Ethan developed at a rate that challenged natural laws.

On the fifth day, Liria gaped at him in astonishment.

"Is it just me," she uttered deliberately, "or have you grown too much?"

Ethan was able to shift with precision now. His sinews built up swiftly. His intellect, naturally, stayed the same.

Overly rapid development could attract notice.

Should the slum dwellers learn of him, they could peddle the details to authorities, and he knew full well the consequences.

"Dissection tables", the idea flashed in his mind.

"I will leave tomorrow," he resolved within.

That afternoon, Sofia came by once more.

She paused at the threshold.

"Does he not look like a two year old now?" she breathed.

Liria’s complexion drained.

"You noticed it too?"

Sofia dropped to her knees by him and nursed him routinely, although worry clouded her gaze.

"Perhaps it is some rare disease which is causing him to grow so fast," Liria suggested faintly.

Sofia denied it with a shake of her head but remained silent.

The following day, Liria came back from foraging.

The instant her sight fell on the mattress, she went rigid. It lay vacant.

The fabrics were stacked orderly.

For a few moments, she stayed motionless.

Then her respiration hastened.

"Who took him?"

She ransacked the space in panic. Beneath the mattress. Past the cooker.

Nothing.

Her fingers shook.

"I will find whoever did this," she hissed, tears flowing freely. "Even if it is a gang. I will kill them."

Her fury concealed a profound emotion.

Bond. She had come to see Ethan as her boy. Thus, his abrupt vanishing wounded her deeply.

In a tight alcove of the slum, away from primary routes, Ethan huddled amid piled rubbish.

His physique now mirrored a young kid’s instead of a babe’s. Expansion had evened out to a steadier tempo.

He observed the far-off huts wordlessly.

"I need seven more days," he figured.