The metallic tang of old blood was the only thing Liam Scott could taste.
It wasn't the noble, crimson blood of a hero. It was the rancid, greenish sludge of an E-Rank Forest Goblin, smeared across his knuckles from a pack he'd been dragging for three hours. The leather straps of the supply crates bit into his shoulders, rubbing his skin raw beneath a cheap, sweat-soaked cotton shirt.
"Faster, Porter! If we lose the light, we lose the bonus!"
The shout came from Bradley, the team leader. He stood ten yards ahead, his Grade-2 silver-plated armor gleaming under the faint luminescence of the dungeon's mossy ceiling. He didn't look back. To him, Liam wasn't a teammate; he was a pack mule with a heartbeat.
Liam didn't answer. He couldn't. Every breath felt like inhaling hot ash. He adjusted his grip, his cracked leather boots slipping on the damp, uneven stone of the 'Green Abyss'—a low-level dungeon that was supposed to be a 'walk in the park' for an Awakened squad.
"Hey, don't be so hard on him, Brad," Sarah, the team's Mage, giggled. She adjusted her silk robes, tapping her mana-infused staff against the ground. "If he collapses, who's going to carry my spare mana potions? You?"
"He's a Zero," Bradley spat, eyes scanning the dark thicket ahead. "He's lucky we even let him inside. Most squads wouldn't let a non-Awakened near a rift. He should be thanking us for the scraps."
Liam kept his head down, his ocean-blue eyes hidden beneath a fringe of messy hair. He knew the math. A porter got 1% of the loot. Just enough to buy a bowl of synthetic ramen and pay for the damp room he called an apartment. In a world where modern skyscrapers grew alongside ancient dungeon gates, Liam lived in the cracks between them.
Suddenly, the air grew heavy.
The chattering of the forest insects stopped. The silence that followed was thick, suffocating—the kind of silence that usually preceded a massacre.
"Wait," Bradley raised a hand, his cocky grin flickering. "Something's wrong. This is an E-Rank zone. Why is the mana density spiking?"
From the shadows of the twisted trees, a pair of eyes opened. Then another. And another. But they weren't the dull yellow of Goblins. They were a piercing, hypnotic violet.
Shadow Stalkers.
"D-Rank monsters?" Sarah's voice went up an octave, her staff trembling. "In an E-Rank rift? That's impossible!"
"Formation!" Bradley roared, his shield clanging as he brought it up. "Protect the Mage!"
The first Stalker moved like a blur of midnight. It didn't growl; it hissed, a sound like steam escaping a pipe. It slammed into Bradley's shield, the impact sending a shower of sparks into the air. The force was enough to crack the stone beneath the leader's boots.
"Liam! Get over here!" Bradley screamed, his face contorting with a sudden, ugly desperation.
Liam dropped the crates, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. He moved forward, thinking Bradley wanted him to help stabilize the line.
He was wrong.
As Liam reached the front, Bradley's gauntleted hand shot out, grabbing Liam by the collar of his shirt. With a grunt of effort, the leader didn't pull him back—he threw him forward.
"Buy us some time, meat shield!"
Liam's world spun. The crates, the mossy ceiling, and Sarah's terrified face blurred into a smear of grey. He hit the ground hard, the air driven from his lungs in a painful wheeze. He looked up just in time to see the stone doors of the inner sanctum slamming shut.
Bradley and the others had sealed themselves inside the boss room's antechamber, leaving Liam in the hallway with three Shadow Stalkers.
They left me. The thought wasn't a shock. It was a cold, numbing realization. To them, his life was worth exactly what he was paid: 1%.
One of the Stalkers prowled closer, its claws clicking against the floor. It was a lean, feline nightmare made of smoke and malice. It looked at Liam not as a threat, but as a snack before the main course.
Liam pushed himself up, his hands scraping against the jagged floor. His left leg was screaming—a jagged piece of stone had pierced his calf during the fall. Blood, warm and sticky, began to pool under his boot.
"Is this it?" Liam muttered, his voice cracking. "After all the shit I took... I die as a distraction?"
The Stalker lunged.
Liam didn't have a sword. He didn't have mana. He had a rusted skinning knife he'd bought for three dollars at a pawn shop. He pulled it from his belt, his knuckles white.
The beast's claws tore through his shoulder. Liam felt the meat being ripped from the bone, a blinding white heat that made his vision swim. But instead of falling, he leaned into the pain. He grabbed the creature's smoky neck with his left hand, feeling the cold, oily texture of its skin, and drove the rusted knife into what he hoped was its throat.
The knife snapped.
The Stalker screeched, more annoyed than hurt, and swiped again. Its claws raked across Liam's chest, shredding his shirt and skin alike. He slumped against the wall, his blood painting the ancient runes in a vibrant, dying red.
His vision began to fade. The violet eyes of the monsters closed in, a circle of predators waiting for the light to leave his eyes.
I hate this, Liam thought. His fingers twitched in the dirt. I hate the dungeons. I hate the Awakened. I hate that I'm dying for a 1% bonus.
[Ding!]
The sound was like a silver bell ringing in a cathedral. It was sharp, clear, and utterly alien.
[Host Vitality: 2%] [Will to Survive: Critical Level.] [Conditions for 'The Great Equalizer' Met.]
[Initializing Level-Up System...]
The world froze. The Shadow Stalker stayed mid-leap, its claws inches from Liam's throat. The blood dripping from his shoulder hung in the air like rubies.
[Binding... 100%] [User: Liam Scott] [Class: None] [Level: 0]
[Unique Skill Unlocked: Skill Devourer (Rank: Unknown)] [Description: You are the bottom of the food chain. To survive, you must consume the apex. Gain the abilities of those you slay.]
[Emergency Quest: First Blood] [Objective: Kill your first monster.] [Reward: Instant Level Up + Full Recovery.]
The gray screen flickered, and time slammed back into motion.
The Stalker's claw grazed Liam's neck, drawing a thin line of blood. But Liam didn't flinch. A strange, icy calm surged through his veins, replacing the fear. He reached out, his bare hand grabbing the monster's face.
"My turn," he hissed.
He didn't need the knife. He used the jagged edge of his own broken leg bone, which had pierced through his skin. With a guttural roar, he drove the sharp, bloody bone into the Stalker's violet eye.
The monster thrashed, its smoky body dissolving into black mist. Liam didn't let go. He felt a pull in his palm—a vacuum-like sensation that started in his chest.
[Skill Devourer Activated.]
A stream of violet energy flowed from the dying Stalker into Liam's hand. It burned like liquid fire, racing through his nerves, stitching his muscles back together. The gash on his shoulder closed in seconds. The pain in his leg vanished.
[Ding!] [Target Slain: Shadow Stalker (Rank D)] [Experience Gained: 500%]
[Level Up!] [Level Up!] [Level Up!]
[You have reached Level 3.]
[Skill Acquired: Shadow Step (Rank D)] [Description: Melt into the shadows for 3 seconds. Cooldown: 10 seconds.]
Liam stood up. His cheap shirt was a rag, revealing a lean chest that was now covered in faint, glowing runes that pulsed with violet light. He felt stronger, faster, and remarkably... hungry.
The remaining two Shadow Stalkers backed away, their violet eyes flickering with something they had never felt before.
Fear.
Liam looked at the sealed stone doors where Bradley and the others were hiding. He could hear their muffled screams from the other side—it sounded like they'd found the boss. And the boss was winning.
Liam wiped the monster's blood from his mouth, his smile sharp and predatory.
"Brad," Liam whispered, testing his new strength as he felt the shadows coiling around his feet. "I hope you're still alive in there. I'd hate for my first 100% bonus to go to waste."
He didn't run for the exit. He walked toward the shadows.