The instant his eyes closed, the world snapped.
He wasn't in his bed. He was in the featureless, antiseptic-white Lobby. This time, there was no surprise, no fear. Just a hollow, detached focus.
He was alone.
A crimson-colored screen, the mark of the Ebonguard Faction, was floating in front of him. It was a message from Selina.
The Weeping Woods are open. Don't die before you're useful. -S
The prompt vanished. A new one, System-blue, took its place.
[Enter Nexus Zone: The Weeping Woods? Y/N]
He confirmed. The world dissolved.
He was back. The smell of copper and rot, the dark trees weeping their bloody sap. He didn't hesitate. He didn't look for a place to hide.
'Inventory.'
The [Rusted Iron Sword] icon was waiting. He willed it into his hand.
He felt the weight. A pound, maybe two, of solid, soul-formed metal. It was a chipped, ugly piece of scrap, but it was his. His status screen flickered, updating: STR: 3 -> 4. He swung the sword, a clumsy, experimental arc. It felt good.
He was done being prey. He was here to hunt.
He moved into the trees, his eyes scanning the gloom. It didn't take long. A Level 0 Blood-Sapper, drawn by his presence, skittered from behind a root.
Last time, he would have run. This time, he stood his ground.
The bug lunged, its needle-proboscis aimed at his leg. Dev moved. His AGI: 4 was still pathetic, but he wasn't panicking. He sidestepped, the needle grazing his calf, and brought the sword down in a heavy, two-handed chop.
The rusted metal met a weak point in the chitin. It crunched through the Sapper's body, severing it. The creature died instantly.
[+1 Nexus Shard]
[+1 Lesser Soul-Essence]
He stared at the prompt, then at the dead bug. It was... easy. Too easy.
'Selina was right. Watery. Weak.' This was inefficient. He needed real prey.
He pushed deeper into the woods, past the trees he'd used as a sanctuary, into a part of the forest that was darker, where the red moon's light barely touched the ground.
He heard it before he saw it. A low, guttural snarl.
He crouched behind a root, his new sword held tight. It emerged from the shadows. It was a gaunt, wolf-like creature, but it was made of pure, shifting darkness, with burning red pinpricks for eyes. It was easily twice the size of a Sapper.
[Gloom Stalker (Level 1)]
Dev, arrogant from his first kill, made his first mistake. 'Level 1. I'm Level 1. This is an even fight.'
He stepped out and charged, raising his sword.
The Stalker moved. It wasn't a skitter; it was a blur. It dodged his clumsy swing so easily it was insulting. Before Dev could even register the miss, the creature was on him.
Black claws raked across his chest.
[WARNING: Soul-Integrity at 75%!]
The pain was a blinding explosion. He screamed and stumbled back, the sword feeling impossibly heavy. The Stalker snarled, amused, and circled him. It was toying with him. This wasn't a fight. It was an execution.
'No. Not like this.' He was outclassed. His stats were a joke.
He had to be smarter. He had to be nastier.
He turned and ran, plunging back toward the "newbie" zone. The Stalker, seeing its prey flee, gave chase, its shadowy form bounding through the trees.
Dev found what he was looking for: another Blood-Sapper, drinking from a pool of sap.
'The law of the fodder.'
He didn't slow down. He ran past the Sapper and, in one fluid motion, swung his sword, wounding it. The Sapper shrieked. The Gloom Stalker, just seconds behind, saw the new, wounded, easier target and pounced.
But the Stalker was Level 1. It wasn't a mindless bug. It killed the Sapper in a single, brutal snap of its shadowy jaws, then immediately turned its red eyes back to Dev.
It knew what he had tried to do. And it was pissed.
It lunged, cornering him against a massive tree. Dev raised his sword, but he knew he was too slow.
'He's faster. Stronger. Smarter.'
The Stalker lunged, claws aimed for his throat.
'But I'm more desperate.'
Dev made a choice. He didn't block. He didn't dodge.
He took the hit.
He moved into the attack, letting the Stalker's claws bury themselves deep into his left shoulder. [Soul-Integrity at 40%!]. The agony was absolute. His arm went numb.
But he was inside its guard.
The creature's shadowy face was inches from his. It couldn't bring its claws to bear. It couldn't dodge.
"DIE!" Dev roared, his voice a raw, hateful sound.
He drove the [Rusted Iron Sword] up with all his STR: 4 power. He put his entire soul-form into it. The blade punched through the Stalker's shadowy jaw and deep into its "head."
The creature shrieked, a sound that tore at his mind, and thrashed, its claws digging deeper into his shoulder. But Dev held on. He held the sword in place, his face a mask of pure, murderous grit, until the red eyes faded and the creature dissolved into black mist.
He collapsed, his soul-form on the verge of disintegration. But he was grinning.
[Level 1 'Gloom Stalker' defeated!]
[+15 Nexus Shards]
[+10 Lesser Soul-Essence]
He used his last 7 Essence to stabilize, then spent the rest of the night in a brutal, repetitive grind. He was wounded, but he was a predator now. He hunted the weaker Sappers, no longer with fear, but with a cold, robotic efficiency.
[+1 Essence].
[+1 Essence].
[+1 Essence].
He collected 30 more. He now had 40 in total. Just before the 8-hour timer ran out, he dumped all 40 into his "Level" pool.
[100/100 Soul-Essence for Level 2... Confirmed.]
[LEVEL UP!]
[You are now Level 2!]
[All Primary Stats +1]
[CON: 4 -> 5]
[STR: 4 -> 5] (with sword)
[AGI: 4 -> 5]
[SPI: 7 -> 8]
And then, the most beautiful sentence he had ever read.
[Soul-Body Synchronization Rate: 1.0% -> 2.0%]
A feeling of real power washed through his soul-form, mending his wounds, solidifying his essence. He felt... strong.
Just as the Lobby pulled him, he smiled.
He woke up. No alarm clock. His eyes just snapped open. It was 7:01 AM.
The 2% felt different.
He didn't just feel "not sick." He felt... energy. A restless, coiled vitality was thrumming under his skin. He threw off his blankets and stood in one, crisp motion.
He went to the mirror. He was still the same skinny 14-year-old. No magic muscles. No handsome face. But his eyes. His eyes weren't hollow anymore. They were sharp. There was a new, dangerous light in their depths.
He clenched his fist. He could feel it. The 2% of his new, higher stats. It was still a tiny fraction, but it was a fraction of a bigger number. He felt... capable.
He walked to school with a new, solid confidence. He knew today was the day. Devis's pride was on the line.
He was right.
Devis cornered him in the stairwell between second and third period. The hallway was empty. It was just him and Devis's two large, thuggish friends, who blocked the exits.
"You got brave, roach," Devis sneered, cracking his knuckles. "Next time," he had promised. This was it.
He shoved Dev, hard, expecting to send him flying. "You think you're—"
Dev didn't move.
His CON: 5, even at 2%, made him a rock compared to his old self. He just absorbed the shove, his feet planted.
Devis's sneer faltered. He was stunned. That shove, meant to establish dominance, had done nothing.
"I said, did you get—" He shoved him again, harder.
Dev still stood there, his expression unfeeling, his sharp eyes just watching.
From the landing above, a flash of movement. Mina. She was "just passing by," and she stopped, leaning against the railing, watching the scene below with a detached, analytical curiosity.
Devis, enraged by this silent defiance, snapped.
"You little bastard!" He threw a real punch, a wild, angry hook aimed right at Dev's face.
The punch was fast. To the old Dev, it would have been a blur.
But to the new Dev, with his 2% of AGI: 5...
It looked... slow.
He saw the fist coming. He saw the shift of Devis's weight. He saw the opening.