River hurriedly parked his bicycle in the metal rack outside the hotel where he had been staying for the past week. His mask was gone, leaving his pale face bare under the faint glow of the street lamps. Though his features were as expressionless as ever, inside he was screaming in pain.
The poison was spreading fast.
The Twelve-Legged Spider Face's venom was notorious among Hunters. River had read about it in dungeon records: a toxin capable of killing even experienced C-Rank Hunters if left untreated. His body burned as though fire had been poured into his veins, a sharp agony twisting through his stomach where the monster's fangs had pierced him. He didn't have a potion for this—not anymore. Every vial he carried had already been spent in the brutal fight against the Dungeon Boss.
