Finding the next dungeon was no picnic.

I had spent days searching. No signs, no clues. Just trees, dirt, and a growing sense that I was wasting my time.

Then, just as I was about to give up—my status screen flickered.

I stopped. Focused. There, between a cluster of trees, something shimmered. I blinked. Once. Twice. If not for my status screen, I would have walked right past.

It was hard not to feel annoyed with the lack of a map. It seemed like an obvious feature in most games. So far? No such luck. So stupid. “Go clear three dungeons…good luck finding them. Cue evil laugh.”

The dungeon’s recommended level was 10, but with my stats stacked well past Level 15, I felt like I was punching at Level 25.

The enemies inside? Dire apes. Massive, mutated, twisted reflections of something almost human.

And that was the weird part. They weren’t just mindless beasts.

They had roles. Some worked wood. Some gathered supplies. Others stood guard.

It wasn’t just combatants. It was a society. And that unsettled me more than any monster had so far.

The faction leader was a dire ape wizard—a hulking brute wreathed in crackling magic. He raised a claw, arcane power surging—

—and then Mischief tore out his throat. The fight lasted two seconds. Maybe three. I only gained one level.

sigh.

If I’d remembered to cast barrier, the entire run would’ve been flawless. Instead, I took a single hit. A stray lightning bolt.

One hit point lost. That was nothing. But it still left a bitter taste in my mouth. No perfect run.

I pulled up my status screen.

[Dungeon Completed.]

[Objectives: 2 of 3 Cleared.]

[Rewards: 15 Universal Bronze Coins.]

[Bonus: Seed Assortment Acquired.]

…Seeds? I blinked. "Seriously? This whole run and I get… plants?

-

The last dungeon left me feeling gross.

Just like the goblins, the dire apes attacked on sight. No hesitation, Just mindless hostility.

Worse, I was pretty sure the dungeon wouldn’t close until I completed the objective.

[Objective: Kill Everything.]

That seemed to be the theme. Kill, move forward, repeat.

So I killed. They were just dungeon monsters. It wasn’t supposed to matter.

Like usual, my thoughts drifted as Mischief and I made the trek back. Then, out of nowhere, he stopped.

I barely caught myself before I ran into him. My pulse picked up. “What is it?”

Mischief lifted his head, nose twitching. He inhaled, slow and deep. I tensed, waiting.

Then—without hesitation—he nudged me. I frowned. “What?”

He nudged me again. Stronger this time. His eyes locked onto mine. I exhaled slowly, my pulse picking up.

“You smell something?” I muttered. Mischief’s nod was sharp. Certain.

I stared at him. A scent. He had nudged ME twice. What did that mean?

“Are you catching the scent of another person?”

A nod.

I swallowed, my mind racing with possibilities. Was this good? Or was this bad?

A human meant potential help, information, maybe even an ally.

But it also meant potential danger. What if they were hostile? What if they weren’t human anymore?

I ran a hand through my hair. “Alright, big guy,” I muttered. “If it’s a human, they probably won’t react well to you showing up first. Let me check it out.”

Actually I better be sure.. “Humans are complicated. Please don’t eat them without letting me know.”

Mischief huffed. I wasn’t sure if that meant approval or protest.

I took a slow breath. Stepped forward. The trees thickened. The light dimmed.

Friend or threat? I was about to find out.

-

I arrived back at camp. Nothing looked out of place.

The fire was low, flickering in the pre-dawn air. My storage chest sat undisturbed. Even the makeshift lean-to I’d half-heartedly thrown together remained untouched.

But my Sense stat wasn’t fooled. There was someone here.

I didn’t look in their direction. Not yet. Instead, I went about my usual routine.

I updated my map, marking the lands we’d scouted. I transferred loot from my bag to my storage chest, pausing here and there to make it look like I wasn’t aware of anything unusual.

Then—only when everything was settled—I turned toward the presence I’d felt.

I didn’t draw my weapon. Didn’t posture. Just tilted my head slightly.

“Okay, I know you’re out there.” My voice was casual, friendly. “I’m not looking for trouble. If you’d like to talk, let’s talk.”

I waited. Fifteen seconds passed. Then—a rustle in the grass.

A middle-aged man–wearing camo pants and a mostly unbuttoned flannel shirt exposing tufts of chest hair–rose from the tall brush about twenty-five feet away. He stood slowly, carefully, hands raised in a surrendering gesture.

He was armed with a bow and quiver on his back and a large knife at his hip.

The man had clearly seen I was human. Why hadn’t he immediately announced himself? Why stay hidden in the grass?

So far he wasn’t hostile. A nice contrast to the dungeons.

“Hi there, friend!” I called, keeping my tone light. “I’m Layton. Gotta say, it’s great to see another person out here.”

The man smiled. “Good to meet you, Layton.” His hands stayed raised.

“You can put those down,” I reassured him. “I don’t bite.”

He chuckled, lowering his arms. “Habit, I suppose. I wasn’t expecting to see anyone out here besides my group. And you can never be too careful.”

“The name is Richard. Glad to meet you.”

Richard seemed friendly enough. But something deep inside me wouldn’t let me fully relax. I wasn’t sure why. Not yet.

“You mentioned a group?” I asked. “I’ve been scouting for around a week, and you’re the first person I’ve seen.”

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Richard smiled.

“I’m not surprised. Our group is a bit far off. I take it you’re familiar with territories by now?”

I nodded, keeping my response neutral. “Somewhat.”

Better to see what he was willing to tell me.

“That’s good,” Richard continued. “Have you traveled much outside your starting territory?”

I shook my head. “Not really. Just far enough to get a rough idea of the borders.”

“Well, that explains it then.” Richard scratched at his chin. “You’d have to cross an entire unoccupied territory before you reached us.”

I blinked. That was… far. One full unclaimed territory? That was a long way to travel.

I kept my tone casual. “Huh. Pretty far from home. What brought you all the way out here?”

Richard shrugged. “Have you stumbled across any dungeons yet?”

I narrowed my eyes slightly. Avoiding the question?

I let it slide—for now.

“Yeah, I’ve seen a couple.”

Richard grinned. “Good, so you know how you need to clear them.” He spoke with pride. “We had that objective too—took down all three of ours.”

He leaned back slightly, shoulders loose, confidence high.

“It wasn’t easy,” he added. “But we got it done. Now we’re working on the second bit.”

Something in my gut tightened.

“The second bit?”

Richard’s grin didn’t waver. “Yeah, but I wouldn’t worry about that. You’ve still got your dungeons to clear first.”

Okay. That was twice now. First, he dodged my question about why he was here.

Now, he was sidestepping the topic of his group’s next objective.

I folded my arms. “If your people have another objective, what are you doing two whole territories away?”

Richard smiled, lips twitching slightly. I almost missed it.

“Oh, don’t worry about that. We’ve got things handled.”

He said it smoothly. I stayed silent, letting the pause stretch.

Richard kept smiling. Then, finally—he tilted his head slightly.

“You know, when the world was inducted, I chose a Hunter class.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Oh really?”

“Mhm.” Richard’s gaze flicked toward the treeline. “What about you?”

I answered without thinking. “Healer.”

Richard laughed.

“Boy, you’re in it now.” He shook his head. “We’ve got a healer in our group. Not much of a fighter, but she’s saved our asses more than once.”

Then, Richard’s eyes flicked to the ground. His expression changed.

“Speaking of hunting…”

He knelt slightly, dragging a finger along the dirt.

“I stumbled onto some of the biggest mountain lion tracks I’ve ever seen. Right on the edge of this territory. Followed them all around. And funny thing…”

His gaze lifted to me.

“…they lead right here.”

I didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Richard stood, dusting off his hands. “So I start thinking.”

He paced slightly, slow and deliberate.

“Some unlucky fellow sets up camp.” His voice was light. Conversational. “A big, mean cat comes along. Poor bastard gets eaten. The cat takes over his camp.”

He stopped.

“Well. That was my theory.”

His smile widened.

“So I wait. Hiding right here in the grass. Figured I’d see the big cat come home. Instead? I find you. You don’t look much like a cat.”

I meet his gaze.

“I see,” I said. “Well, I hate to disappoint you, but that particular cat is off-limits. He’s my friend.”

Richard kept smiling. But something shifted. A shadow fell over his demeanor.

“That cat is your friend?” He asked skeptically.

“Yes. That’s right. I know you’ve come a long way…” my voice trails off.

His fingers drifted toward the bow on his shoulder.

“You seem like an OK guy but you’ve got to get it straight. Because I’m not leaving without my trophy.”

He moved.

I try and stay composed. Not immediately reacting to Richard drawing his bow. Still with a thought I cover myself with a barrier spell. I’m not crazy.

Exhaling slowly and I keep my stance relaxed.

“Richard, let’s settle it down ok? We just met. why don’t we talk some more?” My voice was even. “I’ll even try and look past the fact that you just drew your weapon on me.”

His grip didn’t loosen. What the hell is wrong with this guy?

I gestured toward the fire. “Can we sit down? I’ve got some moose meat here. We cook up a meal, you can find something else to hunt, and we both walk away happy.”

Richard laughed.

Then—he pulled an arrow from his quiver.

“I have a better idea.” His voice was calm. Matter-of-fact. “You realize—I’m going to get what I want—and you don’t tell me what I can and can’t hunt. ‘Matter of fact, why don’t you help me out. If this cat is your friend like you say. Why don’t you help me find him?”

At this point, you might say I was starting to lose my good nature with Richard.

I sighed, shaking my head. “Oh, Richard, you poor stupid man.”

He narrowed his eyes.

I tilted my chin slightly, smiling. “If you’re so keen on killing my friend, maybe we should at least include him in the conversation.”

As if on cue–a low–menacing growl rumbled through the clearing. Fifteen feet to Richard’s right, a mass of muscle and fur rose from the tall grass.

Richard froze.

Mischief stood, back arched, teeth bared. His eyes glowed faintly in the dim firelight, locked onto Richard with the intensity of a predator preparing to lunge.

Well, damn. When the hell did he get there? I could’ve sworn he was still in the trees.

Richard reacted fast. His bow snapped up—arrow already loosed.

A faint ethereal glow trailed the shot—a skill. A piercing attack. I raised a hand.

The arrow slammed into an invisible wall. Barrier held.

Richard didn’t stop. He fell back, firing three more rapid shots. I cast Barrier before each impact, reinforcing it every time.

Mischief?

Didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. He just watched. Teeth bared. Snarling softly. What was he waiting for?

Was this because of what I told him earlier? Humans are complicated. Don’t eat them unless I say so?

“Alright, that’s enough.” My voice cut through the chaos. “Richard, can we talk? Please?”

Richard stopped firing. But he didn’t lower his bow.

I lifted my hands slightly. “Look, no harm, no foul. Put the weapon down, and we figure out how to move forward.”

Richard’s fingers twitched on the bowstring. He exhaled sharply, glancing toward the treeline. I saw it then—the crack in his composure. The calculation shifting to something sharper. Desperation.

Then—his hand snapped to his belt, yanking out a knife. And he charged.

SERIOUSLY! What the hell was wrong with this guy? I thought for the second time.

He thinks killing me stops Barrier. That’s what this was. He realized I was the one casting the spell.

So instead of shooting, he was going for the source. The reasoning didn’t add up though. He could get through the barrier on Mischief, why would he think he’d have better luck on me?

Desperation. But why? Mischief didn’t move. He just watched. I wasn’t concerned.

The way Richard lunged—wild, reckless—it was clumsy. Disorganized. I didn’t even move.

The knife plunged forward right at my chest, it came within inches before my barrier sent his attack bouncing off wild.

I reached out, grabbed the wrist he was holding the knife in. I squeezed. Bone cracked.

The knife clattered to the ground. Richard screamed. His wide eyes locked onto mine. Staring in pure shock.

“You said you were a healer!”

He stumbled backward, scrambling away from me.

I sighed. “I am a healer.”

He clutched his broken wrist to his chest, panting. For a second, he just stared. Then—he moved again.

What is with this idiot?

He popped a potion, using his teeth to rip out the stopper. Choked it down.

A second later—his wrist snapped back into place.

He barely even paused before summoning another knife—and charging again.

At this point? I’d had enough. I trusted my Barrier to take the hit. Then—I threw a single punch.

My fist slammed into Richard’s gut. His entire body lifted off the ground. The second he landed—he collapsed. His knees buckled.

He doubled over—and vomited blood. I stared at him. Then at Mischief. Then back at him.

“Richard, I don’t get what’s happening here.”

He coughed weakly, spitting blood onto the dirt.

I exhaled. “I haven’t even attacked you. The only time I moved was to stop you from attacking me. And yet—you keep charging like a caged animal.”

Richard coughed again. His breaths were ragged. Shaky.

I sighed. “Here.” I lifted a hand. “Let me help.”

Casting weak heal a soft pulse of light washes over him. Richard stiffens. His eyes—wide. Disbelieving.

I tilted my head. “…What?”

He stayed hunched over. Like he didn’t believe the pain in his insides could actually be gone.

Slowly, carefully—he stood. His fingers pressed lightly into his ribs—like he was double-checking that his organs were still in place.

Finally, he looked at me.

“…What the hell was that?”

I shrugged. “A gesture of goodwill.”

Richard’s expression twisted. “Yeah, yeah, I get that. But you just healed 30 HP. Maybe more.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Our healer can only manage 9. What level are you?”

I wasn’t in the mood for his questions.

“How about we figure out where we go from here before we start talking levels?”

Richard barely heard me. His mind was somewhere else.

“Must be pretty high with healing like that…” he murmured.

Then—he muttered something strange.

“…Damn. That’s a lot of XP. I would probably level up twice.”

I frowned. Something about the way he said that felt wrong.

I stepped forward slightly. “What do you mean by that?”

Richard barely heard me. His mind was somewhere else. His fingers twitched at his sides, his breath coming fast in gasps. His pupils were wide, unfocused.

And that’s when I knew—this could only end one way.