Three days later:

The sharp summer sun baked the street, making Constantine wipe the sweat from his forehead with his linen sleeve. He faced a rough looking, tall man, his exposed arms building with muscles.

The man scratched his unkempt, black beard with his left hand and lifted three fingers on the right one. "Three coppers, and I tell ya what ya want."

Constantine rubbed his chin, trying to look like he was pondering the price. Eventually, he raised two fingers. "Two coppers, tops. The information I'm seeking is pretty common. I just need it from multiple sources for my master."

The tall man measured him with an intense gaze, the two of them just standing there in silence for a couple of seconds. Then he grinned, "Deal, boy. You're already overpayin'."

He continued, "The forest, north of the city. I cut trees there every day. The only monsters you'll find there unless you wander too deep are thunder-horned rabbits. They won't attack unless you're daft enough to get too close."

Nodding, Constantine thanked the man and turned to walk away.

'It fits with the rest of the information.' He sighed, knowing he had just wasted fifteen copper between all his sources, but considering his life was on the line, he wanted to confirm information from as many sources as he could.

Glancing at the position of the sun, he quickened his pace, wanting to get the last supplies he needed. He thought, running through his mental list 'A bow, arrows, some easy-to-move-in clothes— '

Taking a turn into a quieter side street to shorten his way, the chilling shadows of the buildings cooled him down. The street was almost vacant—a couple of beggars lying in shadows and a couple of passersby walking by.

"You! It is you!" A familiar voice shouted from behind him. His body turned rigid, his hands trembled, and sweat drenched his clothes. The voice brought back memories he didn't want to remember—the dead teen lying on the ground, bleeding from the side of his head, his lifeless, empty blue eyes staring into his own.

"You murdered Qin!" The second voice he recognized yelled at him. Slowly turning around, he saw two boys, Qin's friends, staring at him, their eyes bloodshot, their hands clenched into tight fists.

He knew he should run, but he was paralyzed by the dark memory of his actions, which he wanted to bury as deep as he could.

The two boys sprinted towards him, a knife gleaming in one's hand, almost hidden by the shadows of the buildings.

Seeing the knife's gleam jolted Constantine from his shock, his heartbeat quickening. He didn't know what to do; hesitation blocked his actions.

"You're gonna pay for what ya did to Qin!" The words struck him like a bolt of lightning. Just as the shorter boy with the knife closed in, the sharp point aimed at Constantine's neck.

His instincts kicked in; it was a matter of survival. Heat exploded within him, turning his innards into an infernal furnace. Grasping it, he directed it into his arms. They moved in counterattack.

The speed, power, and accuracy of his punch increased. The wind howling around his fist, he struck the attacking boy's wrist. A crunch resonated, the knife flying out of the boy's hand as he collapsed, crying in pain.

The taller boy threw himself at Constantine, still not registering his friend's state. Constantine moved his second hand, striking the boy mid-leap, sending him ragdolling backward.

In an instant, the two boys lay sprawled on the road, Constantine standing frozen by his own actions. He raised his arms before his eyes, looking at them in disbelief, his heart pounding. The power and ease with which he had dispatched the two boys he feared only a couple of weeks earlier filled him with joy.

His muscles ached as a consequence of forcefully using mana to empower them by giving them a bit more juice, but he didn't care; the sense of empowerment made his heart pound. He felt light, feeling like his actions were worth it. Even the grim memory of the murder he committed to gain those powers felt diminished, as did the guilt that tortured him every day finally settling down.

'It was worth it.' He panicked, feeling evil just for thinking about it. Rationally, he knew that the life of the boy was cheap compared to his, yet that rationalization made his joy falter.

'The life of a regular human is cheap; this is the exact thought process that turns cultivators into human-looking monsters.' Constantine quickly moved, walking with swift steps deeper into the dark street, as if running away from his increasingly dark thoughts.

"Hehe, give us all your money!" A shout jolted him. In the dark alley to his side, two raggedly dressed men held another man against the wall, a knife to his neck.

Constantine momentarily paused, but then he sped up. If he died now, because of some stupid heroic act, he couldn't accomplish something greater. The world around him was ugly, where social standing depended on personal might, wealth, ancestry, and family name rather than true individual worth and contributions to society. Knowledge was selfishly hoarded, hidden, or appropriated. He wasn't so foolish or naive to believe he could change the entire world. He mused, determined, 'I will create my own small sect in this world, a sanctuary of magic, knowledge, and intellect. In this way, I will repay my moral debts. It will be a place where knowledge is freely shared and taught, all to accelerate its development.'

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

The following day:

Constantine, hidden beneath the shadows of towering trees, gulped down his nervousness. The rustling leaves in the wind, the ominous shadows, and the branches of the ancient trees made the sprawling forest look more menacing than it should.

He rummaged through his belt, containing all his meager equipment. Today, he wasn’t dressed in his usual gray robes; he wore simple linen clothing and sturdy leather boots. A dagger strapped to his leather belt gleamed, and a simple bow hung on his back, their weight a reassuring presence.

With a deep breath, he straightened his back, glancing at a couple of arrows sticking from the nearby tree trunk. His grip was unsteady and awkward as he unsheathed his dagger; its blade, the few arrows sticking from the tree, and his recent victory over his former tyrants gave him enough confidence to continue.

“Huntsmen and woodsmen do this every day for their lives. My software was also tested.” He reminded himself. Steeling his nerves, he stepped into the forest.

A crack resonated as he stepped on a dry twig, making him twitch slightly.

“Dammit!” He cursed under his breath, walking deeper beneath the tall trees, their bark overgrown with greenery. His eyes scanned every shrub and every shadow. Momentarily regretting his decision to find the monster by himself, he was reminded of his slowly shrinking reserve of coins. He couldn’t afford to waste his money.

He continued his walk, his hand not leaving the handle of his dagger for even a single moment. The forest seemed to stretch endlessly, with each step dry leaves rustling beneath his feet.

The forest had grown denser, the light filtering through the canopy casting eerie shadows on the ground. Suddenly, a barely audible crack jolted him. He froze, his heart pounding in his chest as he raised his dagger and bent his legs.

“A thunder-horn rabbit,” he recited the information he knew about the monster one last time, “Fast when moving, non-aggressive until provoked, and while its horn is deadly and can paralyze its victims within a two-meter radius, its small body lacks any defenses.”

There, not far from him, a small creature with a single, shimmering horn stood among the underbrush. Its fur was white with streaks of electric blue, and its eyes glowed with an unnatural light. Its ears occasionally twitched as it chewed on the shrubbery.

Constantine, quickly but as silently as he could, dove behind the nearest tree, his arms reaching for his bow.

“Implant, can you measure the energy emission of the rabbit?”

<>

Knowing this was the reason he was even doing it, the boy cursed and stepped out of his cover. Slowly, step by step, he walked forward, his heart in his stomach. His arms flinched at every rustle of the leaves below his feet.

“Fifty meters,” he counted silently, measuring the distance between him and the certain death by electrocution. With each step, the monster was getting closer and closer. The rabbit bopped up its head, its elongated ears twitching as the leaves rustled below his feet.

“Forty meters.” Gradually, the sensation akin to static electricity making his hair stand on end washed over him, radiating out of the tiny monster.

“Thirty-five meters.” All his hair stood up, his instincts screaming danger, the moment the rabbit turned toward him with its tiny, blue orbs.

Frozen, the boy stood unmoving, not daring to even twitch, his breath stuck in his lungs.

<>

Not daring to approach even a single step closer, he took a step back, his eyes not leaving the tiny rabbit observing him.

“Good rabbit, stay calm, ignore this boy.”

Suddenly, electricity crackled on the rabbit’s horn, the blue light threateningly flashing amidst the shadows of the trees. The boy gulped down, retreating even faster, while the hair on his neck stood up with the peaking aura.

“Forty meters.” He counted slowly, while silently, so as not to provoke the beast, he retreated backward. Seeing that the rabbit didn’t move and instead the lightning dispersed, he calmed down. The fluffy ears twitched one last time before their owner returned to chewing the shrub.

“Good, good.” Even though he knew the monster was a herbivore and wouldn’t be too aggressive, he felt reborn, all the pressure falling off his shoulders.

Finally, he slumped behind the nearest tree, the harsh bark on his back providing a reassuring sense of safety, and wiped the sweat off his brow with his free hand. Hesitating, his gaze lingered on the bow he held.

He could take his valuable data and return; however, his grip on the bow tightened.

“I might not get an opportunity like this any time soon.” He knew that each venture into the forest was full of danger, even into a section like this, which was supposed to be safe from carnivorous monsters.

“Hahaha,” he chuckled inwardly, the ridiculousness of hiding from a tiny rabbit hitting him, “How can I even dream of fulfilling my goal if I chicken away from a tiny rabbit?”

Determined, he decided to go straight for the top prize.

“Implant, activate the aim assist for archery.” Nocking an arrow, he commanded, and immediately an overlay aligned with his vision. Steadying his breath, he raised the bow, leaned from behind the tree, and aligned his aim with the rabbit.

He could only hope that the simple software he created with the help of the smart copilot would work. He reassured himself. 'It must work. It is nothing but simple calculations for parabolic trajectory and a couple of inputs. I have even tested it.'

<>

He couldn’t help but feel grateful for the risk of jailbreaking his implant in his past life, risking angering the brutal corporate license police, as it now allowed him to use the implant’s functions in unsafe ways.

“At this distance, as long as my aim is accurate, it should be alright.”

He pulled back the string, and a line projecting the calculated path of the arrow and a flashing crossmark on the rabbit appeared in his vision. Following the flashing arrows, he pulled the string further back and angled his bow higher above the target. He kept raising it until, at last, the projected trajectory aligned with the rabbit.

“I have a single shot. Two at best.” With how fast thunder-horn rabbits allegedly were, he knew that if he missed, the monster would either escape by the time he nocked a second arrow or would be on him.

<>

Constantine released the string, and the arrow whistled through the air, flying through the gaps between the trees.

The rabbit’s ears twitched as it turned its head, electricity arcing around its horn. The arrow pierced its body, crimson blood staining its white fur, its body collapsing.

Constantine, lowering his bow, released the breath he was holding, relief washing over him. He had done it; he had killed his first monster.

After observing the rabbit for a couple of seconds to ensure it was really dead, he slowly walked toward it. As it didn’t even twitch, he sped up his steps, quickly reaching it. Leaning over it, he carefully studied it, especially its horn.

“No time, blood might attract something worse, something that isn’t an herbivore.”

He picked up the rabbit, its body still warm, put it into the sack, hung it over his shoulder, and began his journey out of the forest.