'Something is amiss,' it's reptile brain conceived as it passed through the cave it inhabited. Despite that, it was hard to tell what exactly was wrong.

It hated feeling this way while in its lair. Something must have come through; it just knew that. It huffed in anger, releasing a surge of heat, setting air ablaze, and melting walls.

It continued on, each step showing its displeasure as the ground shook, its claws leaving marks on the stone. It would only be half as angry if it were a week ago. Now that once in a hundred years mating season was nearing, it would show no mercy. It even polished its obsidian scales for a week to make itself presentable, not that it ever wasn't. What could be worse than having the smell of inferior creatures around its lair!?

It was nearing the exit of its lair, and it still didn't find anything. If nothing was here, what should be done to wash the smell away if not with some fresh blood...

Then just as it stepped outside of its cave overlooking a massive forest, it realized something was indeed out of place. There was a pile of gold in front of the entrance to its cave. It was sure it told its minions to not get near its cave for next month. Neither was it anywhere near time for a tribute from the nearest kingdom to be brought. Whatever the country name was, the dragon didn't care enough to remember.

Still... the pile did look nice. Adding it to its own would unquestionably be the correct thing to do, maybe with this, it could even forget about the smell. It would just make sure to find some tasty cattle to mask it with. After checking it was genuine gold with its inspection spell, it started putting the treasure inside a pocket dimension.

Then, after it removed a big chunk of gold from the surface of the pile, a surge of purple gas spewed out into its nostrils. It convulsed, and flames surged out of its mouth only to implode onto itself. Fireworks rose out of its mouth as its throat's flesh got torn. Staggering backward, it rose on its hind paws and hit its back against the stone wall. 'COWARDS! THAT'S IT! I'M BURNING DOWN EVERY SETTLEMENT I CAN FIND!'

Then it heard something, a short snap. Next thing it knew, dozens of giant rocks rumbled down onto its head, burying the dragon under a pile of stone.

Something snapped in the dragon. It could no longer think straight, nor did it want to. With a giant surge of mana, the rocks started to levitate and flew to the sides. As it brought its upper body up, the dragon looked everywhere for its next meal.

Just as it resorted to using a search spell in case of an invisible enemy, two metal arrows flew at its face. Without time to react, the first arrow struck true and lodged itself inside the dragon's left eye while the second one bounced harmlessly from its scales. The dragon roared in pain and anger, its right eye turning red with fury. More arrows flew in its direction, but simple telekinesis rendered them useless.

Now it knew the direction in which its target hid, with a wave of wings, and use of gravity and wind magic, it surged forward. Within a single human blink, he was above the being that brought so much pain upon it. A green cloaked figure stood on a branch looking directly at the mighty beast. Despite what the dragon just went through, it didn't seem bothered by its wounds. On the contrary, it seemed all the more eager to put the inferior human in its place. Then the person, without giving the dragon chance to attack, jumped down from the branch, falling with open arms as if inviting and taunting the beast.

Now the dragon knew it could rain down spells and be done with it, but it was burning with rage, and it wanted to get the pleasure of crushing this bug personally. Plunging down, it bit the body before it could even fall halfway to the ground. Landing with grace, the ancient beast bit down to end this punny creature life. Instead of satisfying crunch of broken bones, it's maw got filled with sharp razors like blades that cut in every direction. It spewed out the metal, but it was already too late. The inside of its mouth felt numb, and the previous wounds now itch. The last strand of reason popped as the dragon erupted with flames burning everything withing twenty yards to ash and molten rocks. Enraged, it put half of its remaining mana into a wide range detection spell.

It roared in satisfaction as it found its target, far away into the distance. If the dragon weren't maddened by anger, it would also notice that this mortal seemed to have an aura of death around it. Still, without any further wait, it again charged forward at full speed. No longer carrying about the minor annoyances in the form of spikes, spears, tree trunks on pendulums. Stopping them with magic would slow it down, and the threat was minor at worse.

Soon it appeared in a large clearing. Its target was standing on the opposite side of the grassy field, and this time the dragon was sure that there was no trickery. Without waiting, it dashed with a speed that should be invisible to the human eye. Yet just as its maw was supposed to end the punny life, the human vanished in a blue mist, and few arrows pierced the dragon's right-wing. It was magic clearly, yet the dragon didn't see it in his rage, roaring the beast turned around to where it felt its enemy move.

Then as it prepared to dash again, a single thud was heard, and faster than it could react, a giant javelin pierced its left shoulder at the base where it connected to its wing. The projectile pierced both bone and flesh, only stopping halfway through the dragon's body.

The dragon couldn't even release a roar this time as it fell to the ground onto its paws. Then even the earth failed it as it crumbled under its claws. Soon it found itself falling down into a pit filled with spikes. The dragon's eyes went wide as it noticed that each one made of orichalcum. Finally, for the first time since its birth, the dragon felt fear and used all its focus and magic to stop its descent.

It wanted to breathe a sigh of relief as it stopped a few dozens of yards away from certain death, but it seemed the wound reached its lung, causing it pain. Then just as it was going to fly up, it heard a whisper, "Stab." and everything momentarily went black as cold metal lodged itself into its spine, and the great black dragon fell to its doom.

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Astre breathed a sigh of relief as the beast fell onto the spikes.

Congratulations! You slew Legendary Beast Ymmoal! 

Considering the game he played didn't have an exp system, the notification was quite simple, only stating the fact that he indeed killed the monster, yet helpful in making sure the dragon was genuinely dead. His luck really was the worst, getting black dragon for the third time today out of possible five colors that could spawn. Still, he hoped he would at least get lucky with loot.

He already was spending one thousand dollars worth of items for each kill, and he only could get around six hundred dollars for the raw materials from a single dragon. He couldn't even loot the dragon's lair since that would increase the time it took for the next one to appear. And it was the only legendary monster that he was sure no big guild knew of, for now at least.

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Astre wanted a single item, a ticket to next big player versus player tournament that only dropped from legendary or higher rarity bosses. He pulled off his hood as he prayed to rngesus. His short blond hair and tired blue eyes covered in dirt and ash. He has been grinding for over a week already, and he died three times to perfect his anti-dragon traps. Each death forced him into a twenty-four hours debuff state in which he couldn't hunt the boss. He killed the reptile fifteen times till now. If he didn't get the item this time, he would need to spend another night hunting spider matriarch, for the flammable poison, in a PVP zone. The tournament date was only a week and a half away too.

Kneeling on one knee in his green cloth and leather armor and pulling his hands from under his dark green cloak onto the dead boss, he spoke, "Loot."

The boss exploded into ash, and a warm wind caressed his face as he looked at the screen in front of him. Then he grinned, grin turning into a smile that slowly encroached onto his whole face. It seemed it was time to replenish his anti-player supplies.

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Astre felt defeated; he failed. He had a simple mission, win the tournament, and get the prize money. Yet he failed.

He did partially blame the fact that the tournament turned out to be a one versus one arena battles. He even consoled himself that he did get nice fifth place in subsequent loser match after losing in quarterfinals. He still has placed higher than twenty-seven prominent guild leaders, being a black horse of the tournament. Got even lovely reward for it, a pinnacle legendary weapon that fit his fighting style.

He could also blame the fact that his skill set wasn't suited to that type of combat, being more hunting oriented to maximize his loot from strong monsters. He could even blame that fiery princess and her stupid overpowered mythic fire sword that she didn't have skill for, yet it increased her fire magic enough to burn him to dust together with the whole arena.

Yet none of that mattered to Astre. The prize he got was not the million dollars needed. In the end, he only blamed himself.

He stood up, pulling out a card from his red hoodie and cashing out of a bus, correcting his hood covering his ashen hair and shapely face. He did prefer his in-game look bright blonde hair, clear blue eyes, muscular body. He did train every day for an hour or two, but that was only for staying in shape for long gaming sessions.

Yet now he regretted not making his in-game character look different from his real-life face. Some people took notice of his achievement, and somehow his supposed old classmate recognized him. Since then, he was being given countless invites both in the game and in real life.

He even gave them some consideration. "If you give me million dollars, I will join," he proposed to each one. Despite his seriousness, at best, they thought of it as a jest, at worst as a blunt refusal.

Sighing, he entered a hospital and noticed that the usual nurse wasn't there. Instead, it was some old guy he didn't recognize.

"Good morning, I'm As... I mean, Kendrick Arch, my father should have already come here." He was much more used to being called Astre. Especially after spending so much time in the game for the last two years. He even was Astre in his thoughts and dreams. Leaving him in wonder if he was losing grasps of his old identity. Questioning if it was a symptom of game addiction.

The man looked at him with a sharp eye, and then his pupils widened slightly in recognition. "Ah, yes, Mr. Arch," he stated, "Your father already went to meet Doctor Brune."

Astre nodded and thanked the man, but before he could go far, the man beckoned him back. "About payment for this month."

Astre nearly forgot that the date already changed, living in-game made days something he barely cared about. Unless his phone notified it was somebody's birthday, he wouldn't know what day it was. Not that he received many of those notifications. Mainly for his family and a few in-game friends. Few meaning two. Without a word, he pulled out his card and paid this month due. He barely earned anything this month, thanks to the tournament, yet he still had a lot saved. At the same time, it was nowhere near enough for his end goal.

The deal he had with the hospital was simple, he would pay half of the costs, and they would lie to his father about the real costs. His dad would know something was off if it was any less, but he also was certain he would never accept Astre's help. Being a factory maintenance worker didn't pay much, but it was more than enough for a lone man in his late forties living alone.

He entered the room to Doctor's Brune office and greeted both of the people inside, "Good morning, doctor. Hello, dad."

"Kendrick," his dad said. Acknowledging his presence but not greeting him back.

His dad was a big burly man, probably fitting to the way he lived. Yet right now, he seemed as if he was not a forty-year-old man but someone much older with hairs even grayer than his son's and eyes that told of countless sleepless nights.

"Hello, Kendrick," the doctor on the opposite greeted him cheerfully. He did stitch his wounds a lot of times since Astre was young. "I was just explaining your sister state to Arthur." Arthur was his father's name.

Doctor Brune was a few years younger than his dad. He was a bit chubby but otherwise a healthy man. Astre guessed that the man was only like that because of his habit of eating when under stress. The doctor always stressed over his patients. Perpetually wanted to help them in any way he could.

Astre nodded and sat next to his father in a simple plastic chair.

"Then, as I just said, her state isn't worsening, for now, just the regular medication seems to be enough to stop the progress of the disease," the doctor explained in a steady voice. The father simply motioned him to continue. Both of them already knew that much. "Still, as of the matter of surgery and treatment. The national health care company rejected our plea. I'm sorry."

Arthur's fists hit the desk of the doctor with enough force for the wood to crack slightly. The older man wasn't particularly angry with the doctor himself. He knew how much the man has done. Yet the feeling of powerlessness of not being able to help the one he loved for the second time in his life was crushing him.

Kendrick's father stood up. "I apologize. Please send me the bill for the repair," he declared before reaching for the exit.

The doctor shook himself out of the surprise. "No, don't worry about that. Is your hand alright!?"

Arthur didn't bother answering as he left the room. "He will be fine," Astre replied. Then added, "I will check on him later."

"Please do," the doctor asked, wiping his forehead. "About the tournament, you did great. I cheered on you."

"Thanks," was all Astre said, he didn't feel like complaining. "Can I see her?" Astre inquired after a while.

"She will be sleeping. Her bones lately cause her a lot of pain," the doctor responded.

"I know," the young man acknowledged. "I wouldn't want to wake her up to that. Just for a second."

The doctor simply nodded and stood up, leading the way.

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Both of them went through the halls of the hospital in silence. Astre was not in the humor for small talk, and the doctor doubted there was something he could say to comfort the young man.

Finally, both of them stopped in front of single apartment rooms. It was quite expensive, yet it was nothing compared to the price of the medicine to stop the progression of Astre's sister disease. She had a very rare condition where her bones grew spikes inside her body—slowly tearing her flesh apart from the inside. The same illness that killed his mother.

Opening the door, he stepped in. The room had a serene atmosphere about it. A weak flow of air flowed into the room from the window as flowers bloomed outside. In this room under white sheets, a single frail girl laid down. Her long black hairs under her white skin only accented her fairness.

If she could open her eyes, he was sure that her dark eyes would greet him with a smile. Even if she were to feel the pain, he knew it was true. Astre only hoped that when she slept, she was free of it. He, to this day, remembers his mother's screams at night.

Turning around, Astre left the room. He didn't want to risk waking her up. They tried to limit the number of sleeping medicine she was under to make sure it didn't have any adverse effects, so it was possible to wake her up if he did something loud. He thanked the doctor and bid him goodbye.

Yet as he left, he still wished she would call him Astre once more.

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On the train, Astre looked blankly at the wall. Was he fated to fail after all? Could he sell his soul to a devil or god? He didn't care. He simply wanted his sister to smile again.

Still, he had to visit his father to make sure he didn't drink himself to death at least. Then he would grind. Not like he would have much else to do. Maybe he could get some overpowered pinnacle mythic gear and sell it on auction. Not that it would ever happen. He had no way of slaying mythic rank monsters on his own. Much less having the luck to drop something like that. He only could persist, like always.

Then a notification appeared on his phone. His eyes widened in surprise. It seemed fate wanted to give him a chance for one final struggle.