This was it. I'd finally returned to the clearing. The last time I was here, I stumbled in starving and got lucky. This time? I was ready.
Beneath the treeline, I crouched low, nose twitching as I peered out into the clearing.
Right in the middle of the open grass, just like before, lay another victim. A stag this time—bigger than the Wild Boar from before. It lay in the dead center of the field, sides heaving, antlers twisted in the dirt. Still alive. Still suffering.
Claw marks raked across its side in ugly, jagged streaks—deep enough to bleed it out, shallow enough to keep it alive.
Those wounds, I thought to myself. They looked just like the ones on the Wild Boar the other day.
Looking at it now, there was something off about the whole thing. I came here hoping for an easy food window—if the conditions matched last time that would make everything so much easier—but still… this was a little too perfect.
Same placement. Same setup. Like something had dragged it here, hurt it just enough to bleed out slow, then left it on display like an offering.
Yesterday I thought it was just unlucky—monster stumbles into the clearing and bleeds out. But now…
A chill ran through me.
Just then a twig snapped.
From the underbrush stepped the Boarlet. Only it wasn't so "little" anymore. Bigger now, bulkier. Not quite the size of the Wild Boar I'd seen, but getting there fast.
I didn't hesitate.
[Appraisal]
[Status]
Species: Boarlet
Level: 4/10
HP: 75 | MP: –
Stats: Vit – E | Str – E+ | End – E | Agi – E- | Int – F | Wis – F | Lck – E-
Skills: [Charge Lv.3], [Tusk Jab Lv.6]
Bestiary: Lower-tier juvenile boar of the Green; stocky scrapper with a stubborn temper—makes short, straight-line charges with poor turning and relies on quick tusk jabs when cornered.
That was… ridiculous. Those stats probably put it closer to the Wild Boar than the little thing it was yesterday. Where did all that sudden growth come from?
Either way—I wasn't squaring up to that anytime soon.
The Boarlet snorted and trotted up to the wounded stag. It didn't attack. Didn't feed. Just stood there. Waiting.
My ears twitched. Waiting for what?
The answer came with a rustle on the far side of the clearing.
I tensed, expecting the small stag again. A rematch.
Instead… a bear cub waddled out of the bushes.
Smaller than the Boarlet, rounder, almost cute. I almost laughed. "Aw. Who's a ferocious little guy—"
Then I Appraised it.
[Appraisal]
[Status]
Species: Bramble Bear Cub
Level: 2/10
HP: 90 | MP: –
Stats: Vit – E+ | Str – D | End – D- | Agi – E+ | Int – E | Wis – E- | Lck – F
Skills: [Maul Lv.2], [Bite Lv.1], [Briar Ram Lv.2]
Bestiary: Mid-tier cub from the Grandforest's Briar-Deep; its bramble-laced hide forms natural thorn mail—any grab or close strike tears skin on contact, and shoulder slams can drive the barbs in like a mace.
My jaw dropped.
…What the hell?!
Level two. Just like me. But its stats were already pressing into the D grade, and its vitality was already above it.
System, how is it that strong at only Level 2?
[The Boarlet is lower-tier—lower starting stats and a low ceiling, common within the Green. The Bramble Bear is mid-tier—bigger baselines and a higher ceiling; even at Level 2 the cub starts stronger and needs fewer levels to outpace a Boarlet.]
My chest tightened. So monsters aren't built equal. Some just came stronger from the get-go.
[Monsters like this belong deeper in the Grandforest with other mid-tier predators, finding one here is extremely rare.]
Well just my luck. Wasn't this place supposed to be a starting zone Dumbledore!?
Wait. If the Boarlet's lower-tier and common in the Green, and I'm a Lesser Horned Rabbit that was also common in the Green…does that make me—
[Correct]
So I'm a!?—
[Correct]
…Fantastic.
I snapped my attention back to the clearing just as the cub squared up.. The Boarlet lowered its tusks. And just like that—new rivals.
I held my breath as they clashed. The Boarlet shot forward; the unnatural burst in its rush was definitely [Charge]. The cub didn't dodge—it braced. Tusks met its shoulder with a metal-on-bark screech as the bramble-laced hide snagged; the Boarlet recoiled, momentum dying as thorns bit into the flesh around its snout.
Then came the counter. A brutal swipe raked across the Boarlet's shoulder—claws and thorns together—leaving a bloody line studded with bristle fragments. It squealed and jabbed back, but the cub rolled its weight and shoulder-checked, driving the barbs in deeper like a mace, before clamping down on the opened wound with a grinding bite that forced the Boarlet to stagger.
I gawked. The Boarlet wasn't weak—it had the levels, the skills, the instincts—but every touch with the cub's thorn mail turned into a bad trade. Proof right there: instincts alone weren't enough. Not when there's always someone stronger—and sharper—around the corner.
And then it was over.
The Boarlet gave a frustrated squeal, turned tail, and limped off into the trees.
The cub reared up on its hind legs and gave a high-pitched roar that was more cute than terrifying, but effective enough to declare: today's champion of the clearing.
It turned to the stag. A quick bite to the throat finished it, and the cub dug in.
[New Skill Acquired: Stealth Lv.1]
A soft chime flickered across my vision. I blinked. Stealth? For hiding–uh…I mean observing from a distance? Sure. I'll take it.
I swallowed. So there was a pattern. Just like yesterday, the clearing wasn't random chaos—it was a stage. Strong solo monsters fought for the prize; weaker ones cleaned up afterward.
And speaking of clean-up…
The moment the cub wandered off, belly round and dripping with blood, I heard it.
Right on cue.
As if to finish my thought, the grass rippled. Dozens of tiny bodies poured out—scavenger rats, swarming over what remained of the stag.
My paws flexed against the dirt. This was it. My chance. The moment I had prepared for.
Alright, I thought to myself, crouching low. Time for 'Operation Hit-and-Hop: Scavenger Rat Edition.'
The idea was simple. Use [Appraisal] to pick off the weakest stragglers while the swarm was distracted, swoop in with [Minor Hop] and finish the target in one hit with [Bash], then hop out with my prize before they noticed. Rinse and repeat until I had enough.
But first…
[Stealth]
A cool hush slid over me as my outline sank into the grass, breath thin and scent muted.
It was perfect. The swarm was distracted, noisy, disorganized and had no idea of how close I was.
At Level 5, [Minor Hop] would carry me from the treeline straight into the center. I wouldn't even need to creep closer. Perfect.
One by one, I scanned them. Stats popped up in rapid-fire bursts. Too tanky. Too healthy. Not you.
And then—bingo.
[Status]
Species: Scavenger Rat
Level: 1/10
HP: 10 | MP: –
Stats: Vit – F- | Str – F- | End – F- | Agi – E- | Int – E | Wis – F- | Lck – F
Skills: [Scurry Lv.1], [Gnaw Lv.1]
Bestiary: Low-tier carrion rat; small and skittish, swarms to strip carcasses clean—bold in numbers, scattered when singled out.
Gotcha.
I gathered power in my legs, instincts sharpening like a blade.
[Minor Hop]
I shot forward, grass blurring, and landed right beside it. The rat was too busy squeaking and scrambling for scraps to even notice.
[Bash]
My horn drove straight through its side, puncturing its tiny heart. The rat squealed once—and went limp.
[Critical Hit!]
[EXP gained]
Before the swarm even realized, I scooped the body into my jaws and hopped back into the brush.
Heart pounding, I grinned. Yes! It worked! I did it!
I held the limp rat high like a trophy. "I am become death, destroyer of worlds!"
Okay. Maybe not quite. But close enough.
And I wasn't done yet.
Two more runs. Two more clean kills. Each time easier, smoother. The swarm never noticed—too busy eating their share. By the time I was finished, I had three rats cooling at my paws and a rush of System notifications dancing across my vision.
Notifications flickered in my vision.
[Skill: Appraisal → Lv.4]
[Skill: Minor Hop → Lv.7]
[Skill: Bash → Lv.7]
[EXP Gained.]
―――――――――――――――――
[Level Up!]
[You have reached Level 3.]
[Attribute Point Gained]
[Skill Point Gained]
―――――――――――――――――
[Title Acquired: Novice Exterminator]
This was proof. Stats, skills, planning—together they worked. If I leaned into them, if I used my head, I could claw my way up from prey to predator. For once, I wasn't just surviving. I was moving forward. Stronger today than yesterday, and tomorrow… maybe stronger still.
I'd never felt that before. Not in my old life. Not ever.
And I liked it.