Days seemed to blend together. No softness to the edges, no shift in tempo. Just repetition laid bare.

The same trees. The same cave. The same weary cycle of leaves, filth, and that unrelenting pressure behind the eyes.

I had the same routine every morning. I ached in every place I could think of when I woke up, and some were better left unsaid. I worked out till my muscles flickered like outdated wire when overworked. I went foraging. I went hunting. I ate. Then I ran everything once more.

If progress had a pulse at all, it crept. Not a spectacle. No shout of victory. Only faint numbers inching upward while the rest of me throbbed.

“Arghhh!”

I let forth a shout that crashed against the stream. Regret followed before the echo even faded.

I squatted on a rock and scowled at my reflection, as if the momentum I was seeking had stalled because of my own face.

So much time. So much effort. So many brushes with death courtesy of beetles roughly the size of backpacks, each one tackling me with the enthusiasm of a rival chasing glory.

And this was my grand harvest—

A few stat points. A couple of small bonuses.

Better than nothing, sure, yet nowhere near enough.

I wanted more. Something with an edge. Something that signaled a true shift in the path ahead.

A power spike. A reveal.

I know what you’re thinking. I probably should’ve known better.

Maybe a mysterious female mentor would drop from the sky with peaches the size of melons.

Yeah, nope. I was still waiting on that DLC.

I hurled a stone at the stream. It bounced once. Then it dropped. Ripples fanned out, slow and perfect, before fading.

Kiiroi hunting had become useless. They were fine in the beginning, kept the XP trickling in. But now they were just noise. Not even a speed bump.

If I wanted to move the needle, I needed something that actually pushed back. Something with red skin and bad intentions.

That was when the Akai monsters started wriggling out of the cracks.

They hit harder. Bit deeper. But they dropped better gear and offered real XP. And if I was lucky, they would not kill me in the first five seconds.

So yeah. A full upgrade. High risk. Higher pain. Probably worth it.

Also, I had new ammo from the Online Store. Kōkyū. Polished steel spheres. They were smaller than the ishi I had been using, but far denser. A clean hit to the skull would probably drop a goblin on the spot.

After eating, if you could call jerky and dried fruit lunch, I packed up.

There was a new feature on the Status Window. Map Reading. It was supposed to help with navigation. On paper, it sounded helpful. In practice, not so much.

The map showed only the first floor. The visible parts formed a broken patchwork of zones I had explored and blank stretches lost in fog. Full access required a victory over the floor boss.

My mapping skill refused to rise above level one. The result resembled a toddler’s scribble. It sharpened only when I moved, so the answer was simple. Keep walking. That was exactly what I did.

The mini map HUD helped, but it covered only a mile wide radius around where I stood. It gave me a sliver of foresight. It did not stop ambushes, but it reduced the surprises.

After two hours of moving slow through tangled growth, the sound of everything shifted around me, followed by one heart lurching moment where I almost fell down a hidden slope.

And there it was.

Prints in the dirt.

Not birds. Not animals.

Heavy. Misshapen. Still sharp around the edges. They looked recent.

Goblins. Perfect.

I activated my trekking ability. Just the standard one. Nothing flashy, a passive skill that I had earned from the System after too many days grinding through the Kiiroi Hunter Deluxe track. It made tracking easier. Not by much. But enough.

Even with the extra stats I had earned, I was not about to charge in without thinking. I was not an idiot. And I was not here to make a scene.

That was why the special skills tomes in the Online Store gave me a brief spark of triumph, a short lived victory that vanished the moment I saw the price.

You’d think a skill book would be cheap. It was not. The cost hit hard, stomach dropping. I needed to save that gold. I had real needs. Better ammo. Decent supplies.

For the next couple of minutes, I followed the trail, scanning every patch of dirt, every cluster of disturbed leaves.

Then I saw it.

About ten yards out, two goblins.

Sitting cross legged in a clearing, chewing something dry and tough. Jerky maybe. Their green skin glistened in the filtered light. Their ears twitched with every sound.

Off to the side, another crouched over a fresh kill. Larger. Heavier. Every movement brimming with power. Its jaws ripped at the meat as if it had not tasted anything this satisfying in days. The smell reached me next. Coppery blood, matted fur, the sharp tang of decay.

I narrowed my eyes and activated Status Sight on the big guy.

A readout flashed into view.

________________________________________

Hobgoblin (Ankoku, Akai)

Level: 12

Title: Not So Bright Leader

Description: Larger and stronger than common goblins. Often leads others, usually by force.

________________________________________

Alright. Honesty comes next.

This one carried no hint of brilliance. His eyes held a dull emptiness, the kind that suggested the machinery inside his head had slipped a gear. Strength told a different story. He had the presence of a miniboss.

Thick arms packed with muscle. A heavy ax resting on his shoulder as though it weighed nothing. Tusks curled from his lower jaw, still smeared with meat and something darker.

Whatever gaps he had in the head, his danger stayed intact. One wrong move and I would have hit the dirt in pieces before my lungs managed a single shout.

I stayed low behind a bush.

This was the moment.

The common goblins gave no trouble. Their movements drifted in a lazy haze. No armor. Barebones weapons. Their awareness floated somewhere far from the present.

The hobgoblin stood apart. He existed to crush. That oversized ax alone promised a spine turned to splinters if I slipped even once.

Then I noticed his title.

Not So Bright Leader.

That changed things.

An idea surfaced. Risky. But it lit something inside me. A haunting thought you chased when you had been alone too long and had not failed in a while.

I pulled out the slingshot. Loaded a smooth stone. Took aim.

The shot landed square on the back of his head.

He froze and scratched his scalp. His eyes glazed for a moment, lost in the shadow of memory. Then he shrugged and returned to chewing.

Good.

Second shot. A touch more force.

It hit again. His head jerked. Eyes narrowed. He scanned the area, brows low, mouth slightly open, still clueless about what had struck him.

Third shot. Ready. Loaded. I tightened the band.

This one struck with impact. He flinched, then rose.

The roar tore through the forest, shredding the quiet.

“WHICH ONE OF YOU MAGGOTS DID THAT!” His voice trembled with fury, crashing outward without care.

And just like that, the beating began.

I stayed low in the brush, watched it all fall apart.

The hobgoblin, Zog (Yeah, his name was Zog. I found that out later when things went fully off the rails. But honestly. He just looked like a Zog) started beating the absolute tar out of his own goblin crew.

The two common goblins barely made a sound before he took them down. Ugly. No flair. Just pure force.

They crumpled in the dirt. One after the other. Still twitching.

Zog snarled something in his rough tongue, threw a final glare over the clearing, and stormed off into the woods.

I stayed still for a moment longer, listening to the crash of leaves and snapping branches as he disappeared into the trees.

Then I stepped out.

I loaded the slingshot with kōkyū. No wasted motion.

The first one whistled through the air.

THUNK

Direct hit. The nearest goblin dropped.

The second barely had time to react before I fired again.

Another clean strike. Another target down.

I exhaled once.

Two down. No hesitation.

Then a voice sounded from my right.

“WHAT IS GOING ON HERE!”

My stomach dropped.

I tilted my head.

Zog stood at the edge of the clearing, staring at the collapsed bodies of his buddies. His mouth twisted. His eyes narrowed. For a second, we both stopped moving.

Then I spoke.

“Sayonara, Not So Bright Leader.”

The kōkyū left the slingshot in a blur.

CRACK

The impact landed square between his eyes.

I waited. Anticipating the stumble. The slow fall backward. The fight ending.

It did not happen.

Zog blinked.

I’ll be straightforward about it. That should’ve worked.

A bump rose on his forehead, swelling and angry. But he stayed standing.

“Stone?” he growled. His shoulders lifted. Veins pulsed along his arms. “You think stone can hurt me?”

“It’s a steel ball, you idiot!”

I was already gone. My legs moved before the words left my mouth.

Behind me, the forest shuddered with his roar. Birds scattered. Branches trembled.

He was coming.

And I was running because if I did not, I would have died there.

Then the sound cut through.

SWISH

I sidestepped.

An ax spun past my shoulder and slammed into a tree.

It did not just hit. It stuck. The trunk shook. The bark splintered.

I stopped running. Dirt flew out from under my boots. My hands went up without thinking.

“Why would you throw your only weapon!” My voice came out too loud.

Zog stood across from me, eyes fixed on the ax as if it contained some hidden truth.

His shadow stretched forward. He raised a hand and pointed with a thick finger.

“Can I have it back?”

“Sure,” I said, voice flat and calm, already loading another kōkyū.

He watched. Did not move.

I pulled back the slingshot. Aimed. Fired.

The shot tore through the air.

CRACK

Again. Right between the eyes.

Zog howled and staggered, gripping at his head as if something inside him had broken. His groan cut through the air.

I kept firing.

Another shot. Then another.

Each kōkyū flew from my sling and struck him. Every one hit. Every impact thudded against flesh with blunt clarity.

He let out a shrill, unpredictable screech, like a machine stuck mid-jam. Arms flailed, body jerked, yet he remained upright, too stubborn to fall.

What was that skull made of?

It was not slowing him.

I glanced around. The ax was still jammed into the tree trunk.

Without a second to lose, I ran, grabbed the handle, and pulled as hard as I could. It resisted. For a moment I thought the bark had swallowed it whole, then it came free with a sharp jolt. My shoulder hurt so badly it almost fell out of place.

I pivoted and hurled it.

It spun once, twice, maybe three times and hit dead center on his forehead.

TING.

It bounced off.

I stared, lips parted, hands frozen mid-motion.

Of course. Class restriction. Melee weapons did not scale with my class. They barely qualified as tools.

Zog stood there, confused at first. Then he started to laugh. Loud. Forced. Grating. His chest heaved with each sound, mouth wide open, spit flying with every ugly breath.

“HA! HA! HA! ZOG STRONG! HUMAN WEAK! HA! HA! HA!”

Every obnoxious HA struck my ego with the force of a frying pan.

Then I saw it.

His mouth. Wide open.

I lifted the sling. One more shot.

The kōkyū flew straight down the center.

His laughter stopped. A harsh choke replaced it. His face twisted. His hands clawed at his throat, each frantic pull driven by the desperate hope he could tear the pain out by sheer effort.

He stumbled back. Knees buckling.

Then he crashed down.

No movement.

Wait, does that actually work?

I swear I nearly cheered out loud.

A chime rang out. Then a screen blinked into view.

_______________________________________

You have achieved a great feat in defeating an opponent much higher level than yours:

Hobgoblin x 1, Common Goblin x 2.

Level Up: + 1

Gold: 70

Stat Point: 3

Item Drop: Ring +1

________________________________________

My fist clenched. A quick pump into the air.

I just leveled up in one fight.

Buzzing with excitement, I status-sighted on the ring that appeared in my palm.

________________________________________

Ring of Stupidity (Trash): Intelligence -5

________________________________________

“… You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Seriously? This was the drop? I stared at it for a moment, then hurled the cursed thing at Zog with the same fury I would use to pelt someone in a schoolyard brawl.

“No wonder they called you Not So Bright Leader!”

I rolled my eyes so hard I almost popped a vessel.

Still breathing heavily, I collected what was left of the goblins’ gear. Ammo first. Anything useful next.

By the time I reached base camp, night took over. The moon cut a pale path through the trees.

Something was wrong.

The brush I set up over the cave was gone. Not nudged. Not trampled. Gone. Ripped apart and scattered.

My stomach clenched.

A sound shifted near the entrance.

Something new. And it was waiting for me.

It stepped out from the dark and into the pale light.

Tall. Massive.

Its form loomed in the night, a solid presence ten feet tall or more. The body seemed grown rather than built, a blend of muscle, wood, and something older. Its skin twisted and ridged, gnarled like bark scorched long ago by fire.

In one hand, it gripped a club thicker than my torso.

My mouth went dry. I did not move. My hands stayed loose. My eyes stayed fixed.

“… Right. That’s not terrifying at all.”

I swallowed. “Yeah. I’m screwed.”