The figure looms in front of the cave entrance, like a final boss cosplaying as a blackout curtain; just standing there, casually blocking the way into what I now call home in this glitchy, pixel-blooded nightmare of a world.

I force my legs to move, one reluctant step at a time. They feel like someone swapped them for lead pipes, but I drag them forward anyway.

Meanwhile, my brain’s in full panic mode, firing off worst-case scenarios like a Netflix trailer I never asked for.

Is this real? Am I seriously about to square up with that?

Of course I am.

And yeah, it’s huge. Like, Titan-from-hell huge.

As I get closer, the details hit, and wow. Just… wow.

Its skin looks like cracked stone, but somehow still alive. Thick, battle-worn, probably exfoliated with the bones of its enemies. Its shoulders stretch across the entire cave mouth like it was designed to say, Nope. Not today.

Every time it shifts, its muscles roll under that rocky skin like angry tectonic plates. The dude’s not just built. He’s a walking gym. I feel like a toothpick in comparison.

Scratch that. I feel like a toothpick’s scrawny cousin.

The air gets heavy. Not just “tense moment” heavy. I’m talking, the universe just slapped a fifty-pound emotional backpack on me and whispered, Good luck, bro.

My fingers twitch. I raise a hand, trying to steady it as I activate STATUS SIGHT.

Because if I’m about to die horribly, I at least want to know what level of doom I’m dealing with.

________________________________________

Ogre (Kiiroi)

Level: 19

Title: Hit First, Talk Later

Description: Ogres are often depicted as large and brutish humanoid creatures. Typically, they are characterized by their immense size, great strength, and often a lack of intelligence or cunning, though this can vary depending on the interpretation. Ogres are frequently portrayed as being dim-witted and prone to violence, but they can also be described as cunning and sometimes even capable of magic. Their favorite food is peaches—

________________________________________

Its favorite food is peaches? Really?

I mean, I love a good peach, but this guy?

Could he actually be like me?

I scroll through the rest of the creature’s info.

________________________________________

—the actual fruit, you perverted dumbass!

________________________________________

That bitch of a system. I grit my teeth, fuming.

One of these days, I swear I’m kicking her right in the groin.

I lock eyes with the ogre.

First time I’ve seen a Kiiroi creature with a level and title that terrifying.

LEVEL 19.

That’s more than twice mine. The gap’s not just big—it’s soul-crushing. One swing from that massive club would flatten me like roadkill. And that skin? Probably bulletproof.

I scan the area.

Where the heck am I even supposed to run?

That’s the real problem.

The ogre’s parked right between me and the cave.

My tools. My food. Everything I need to survive… stuck behind a breathing brick wall.

I suck in a few deep breaths, trying to calm the panic stampede in my brain.

Then the ogre starts moving. Every step makes the ground shudder, like the world’s counting down to my funeral.

In desperation, a stupid plan flickers to life. Risky as hell, but it’s all I’ve got.

I dig through everything I know about Kiiroi monsters. Only one thing stands out—

They’re curious. Sometimes stupidly so.

If I can distract it, even for a second, maybe I can slip past and grab what I need.

Drawing in a breath, I slap on a smile and summon every last drop of charm I’ve got left.

“Excuse me… Do you mind if we share the cave?”

The words hang in the air like a bad punchline.

For half a second, I actually think it might work.

Yeah, no.

The ogre lets out this guttural roar and lunges.

That title? Totally earned.

It raises its club and swings down fast.

The air hisses as the thing cuts through it like a falling boulder.

My body moves before my brain even catches up—pure reflex, fueled by terror.

I dive to the side just in time. Hit the ground as the club slams down where I’d been.

The impact rocks the earth, sends a shockwave straight through my spine.

A second slower and I’d be a pancake.

No time to think.

I yank out my slingshot and fire off a rapid barrage of kōkyū.

The steel balls whistle through the air, smacking into the ogre’s thick hide. And do absolutely nothing.

The hits land, sure, but the beast doesn’t even flinch. Its skin might as well be plated in tank armor. My attacks bounce off like I’m throwing marbles at a skyscraper.

Okay, cool. I’m officially screwed.

Panic claws at my throat.

This thing’s a walking death sentence. Fighting it head-on? Total suicide.

With the weight of futility crushing my spine, I spin on my heel and bolt for the treeline. My muscles scream. Don’t care.

Blind instinct grabs the wheel and slams the gas.

The ground shakes behind me. Thunderous footsteps boom like the world’s being pounded by a pissed-off god.

My breath comes in ragged gasps. Don’t stop. Don’t slow down. Keep going.

I risk a glance back.

Mistake.

Terror grabs me by the chest and squeezes.

The ogre’s closing in fast, tearing through underbrush like a rage-fueled bulldozer. Trees snap under its weight. Foliage explodes around it.

It’s gaining—way too fast.

The forest ahead looks a mile away. Like a mirage I can’t reach, dancing just out of grasp while my legs burn and beg to give out.

Fear surges through me, lighting my nerves on fire. Lungs screaming. Legs begging.

Run, you idiot. Run.

Then—

A shadow stretches across the ground.

My instincts scream louder than my thoughts.

I glance back one last time. And my blood turns to ice.

The ogre’s massive club swings in a wide arc.

Crude. Brutal. Lethal.

It slices through the air like it’s settling an old score.

Dodging? Not happening.

The club slams into my side, and pain detonates in my ribs.

I go flying. Weightless. Flailing. Like a rubber chicken on its way to hell.

An involuntary grin tugs at my lips.

Great. I’m flying without wings again.

As I hang in midair, something else hits me.

Not the club. Something worse.

The truth.

This is it. I’m about to fail the tutorial.

All that grinding. All the leveling. The item hoarding, the stat min-maxing…

About to go out in one spectacular flop.

And the worst part?

The one to end me isn’t some secret boss or cloaked assassin.

Nope.

It’s a peach-loving slab of muscle with zero concept of personal space.

Right in the middle of my freefall of shame, a system alert blinks into view.

________________________________________

Attention! Your HP is dangerously low.

Please consume a Health Potion to prevent further drop.

5% remaining.

________________________________________

The robotic voice echoes in my skull, helpfully reminding me to take action.

Thanks, system. Super helpful.

But what’s the point?

Even if I heal, that ogre’ll be on me the second I hit the ground. One more swing and I’m flatter than roadkill in a steamroller factory.

The memory of that club’s still fresh. Still vivid.

Who in their right mind would want seconds?

________________________________________

HP COUNTDOWN:

5%

________________________________________

Honestly? Could be worse.

I lasted way longer than I expected.

Started with marbles and a truckload of bad luck, and somehow survived encounters I had no business walking away from.

Maybe this is it. End of the run. Natural selection.

Game over—with dramatic flair.

________________________________________

4%

3%

________________________________________

I wonder how the other players are doing.

Better levels? Better gear?

Did they also get bludgeoned by a fruit-loving meat wall?

________________________________________

2%

________________________________________

If I could just see Mai’s face one more time… might actually be worth it.

________________________________________

1%

________________________________________

I mean her peaches.

________________________________________

0%

________________________________________

Not the actual fruit, by the way.

________________________________________

Aoi Player Akira Sakamoto has been eliminated.

Transferring to the staging area.

________________________________________

There’s a brief pause. Just enough time for my nerves to chill out before—

SYSTEM FAILURE. SYSTEM FAILURE. SYSTEM FAILURE.

What the hell is going on now?

I stare at the screen like it just called me stupid.

Which, honestly, might not be totally wrong.

The edges of my vision warp, like someone just hit rewind on a crusty old VHS tape.

You know the kind.

Wobbly screen, stomach-churning static, existential dread.

One second I’m mid-air, brain bracing for the usual end-of-tutorial flashbang. Bright light, overly theatrical cutscene, maybe a triumphant “you died but didn’t really” jingle.

Instead?

Faceplant. Right into the middle of some random-ass forest clearing.

Zero context. Even less dignity.

The sun’s low, casting that golden-hour glow across the treetops like the world suddenly flipped into peaceful chill mode. Total vibe shift.

Five seconds ago, I was getting wrecked by a ten-foot ogre with a club the size of a park bench. Now it looks like I stumbled into a fantasy postcard.

My head spins like a busted compass.

Seriously, what kind of scuffed cutscene drop was that?

I’m still riding the adrenaline high of almost dying—heart pounding like I just rage-quit a boss fight.

But around me? Quiet.

That weird, too quiet kind of quiet that feels staged. Like the environment forgot I exist.

I glance around.

No ogre. No bodies. No scorch marks, no broken trees.

Just forest. Tall, unbothered trees swaying like they’re on break.

Even the birds? Chill. Way too chill.

A breeze rolls through, rustling the leaves and brushing the grass with all the urgency of a sleepy yawn.

It should be calming.

It’s not.

It feels like that moment in a horror movie when the camera lingers too long… right before something jumps out and rips your face off.

I take a step forward.

The grass crunches beneath my boot like it couldn’t care less about the trauma I just went through.

No blood. No smoke. No magical residue.

Just nature. Vibing.

Like I didn’t just get erased by a murder ogre with a fruit fetish.

My system’s still freaking out.

Twitchy. Screaming at me to move, dodge, fight—anything.

But there’s nothing. No enemies. No logic.

Just silence, stretching out like a blank loading screen, and this nagging, skin-crawling feeling in my gut. Like I missed a patch note. And the devs stopped answering support tickets.

The more I try to figure it out, the worse it feels.

Why am I here? Why am I fine? Why does it feel like I blinked and skipped an entire chapter?

I rewind the last few seconds in my head. Try to piece it together.

But every time I reach for the memory, it slips away. Like someone hit shuffle on my life playlist and booted me into the next track with zero warning.

Last thing I remember?

Danger. Sprinting for my life. Flying through the air like a cartoon side character in a boss fight.

Now?

Now I’m the unwilling star of some glitched-out nature documentary, and trust me, I did not sign the release form.

Whatever this is…

It doesn’t feel like a bug. It feels like the game blinked first.

And I’m the one left trying to figure out what the hell that means.