The man draws nearer, each step hammering my heart harder, threatening to tear right through my chest. I squeeze my eyes shut, bracing for the inevitable. He’s going to crush my head—a quick, painless end, right?

But nothing happens. The tightness in my chest slowly eases, breath by breath, until it’s gone. Hesitantly, I crack my eyes open, testing reality.

Pitch black. That’s all I see. I blink in confusion, wondering when it got so dark. Then I notice bright white outlines cutting through the darkness, followed by a warm, foul breath hitting my face—like someone downed a bucket of rotten tuna and skipped brushing their teeth. Wait... I connect the dots. Shit! My first instinct is to scramble.

I stifle a yelp and scramble back, kicking like mad to put some distance between me and the man-in-white kneeling beside me. As my legs start to give out, I reach for my blade, fumbling to unsheathe it. Of all the times to struggle with this damn thing…

Just as I finally get the blade out, there's a sudden pull, and the sword flies straight into the boss’s hand. He stands up, leisurely as you like, and starts walking toward me.

My heart pounds, panic claws at my throat, but I shove it all aside. No point in dreading what’s already written. “So, I’m getting tortured to death, huh?” I snicker, already resigned to whatever’s coming. “But hey, I’ve got to ask—any chance you could make it quick and painless?”

The man pauses, staring at me, and I swear the darkness under his hood deepens. “No,” he replies, his voice inhumane, unnatural, eerie—whatever you want to call it—it makes my skin crawl.

I gulp, instinct kicking in. Fear is a natural response, but I’ve already made peace with my end. “Painful it is,” I mutter, sighing. “Hell, here I come—”

“Not that either,” the man interrupts.

“Then what? You’re not going to kill me? Just let me go, like I didn’t just butcher twenty of your goblin kin?”

“They weren’t my kin,” he snarls, his tone icy and dead serious. “And yes, I won’t kill you. We’re not enemies, and it’s not your time, not yet.”

I blink in disbelief, trying to wrap my head around this twist. Aren’t game bosses supposed to be murder hobos, programmed to kill anything that breathes? If not, then there’s definitely something sinister going on here.

“Also, your recent actions have piqued my interest. They’re what you might call… unique,” he says. And there it is—the sinister I was waiting for. But hold on, which of my genius moves grabbed his attention? Oh, hell, it’s gotta be those system swipes I pulled off the dead, right? It has to be. I’m so fucked!

“That said, carry on with the tutorial. Do whatever you’re good at,” he continues, and it’s as if I can see a smirk hiding in the shadows of his hood. “But remember, I’m watching you,” he adds, his tone suddenly taking on a hungry edge. “And I really hate being disappointed!”

Is that a warning to keep up my skills—read: keep swiping systems—without getting caught? I’m pretty sure he can read my system. He knows everything about me and is letting me go just for his own amusement. My misery must be his entertainment.

“We shall meet again, player,” he says, tossing the blade at my feet. “But for now, I’ll bid you farewell. I’ve got other matters to attend to.” He gestures toward the battle behind him and starts to walk away.

I'm about to breathe a sigh of relief when he pauses and turns back to me. “Why do you think you're choking, repeatedly?” he asks.

He knows? He’s been watching me this whole time, hasn’t he?

“I… I’m not sure. Feels like something’s jamming up in my chest,” I say, being as honest as I can, though I’m not entirely sure if that even makes sense to him.

“It’s your mana veins. They’ve been dormant for so long that now they struggle to hold even the smallest amount of mana,” he explains, and surprisingly, most of it clicks. “I cut the supply from your core so you could survive. I suggest you work on those veins before trying to restore the flow—doing so prematurely could be fatal.”

“...Okay, I’ll work on them,” I nod, skeptical of his motives but grateful he saved me. Still, one problem remains. “But how?”

“That’s for you to figure out,” he chuckles. And with that, he’s gone.

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I finally let out the breath I’ve been holding and collapse onto the wet ground. That wasn’t too tough, but it was certainly an odd encounter. A Region boss taking an interest in me? Clearly, I’m special—so special that I’m probably on his hit list now. And since I’ve got time on my side—not my call, his—I’m not ready to accept death just yet. I need to get ready. I need to at least put up a fight.

How many levels will it take to go toe-to-toe with him? Thirty? Forty? Hell, maybe fifty? Yeah, fifty sounds about right. He can’t be more than—

BOOM!

A deafening noise, and the ground shakes like never before. I whip my head around just in time to see something—a barrel—soaring through the air. Wait, is that... a man?

“Nethan!” I shout, watching as he sails twenty feet above me and crashes down with an earth-shattering thud. Ouch! I half expect him to spring back up, but he just lies there, limp. Probably knocked out cold.

I force myself to sit up, scanning for the one who tossed him like a ragdoll. And of course, it’s the boss—casually sending another guy to dreamland. One backhand slap, and the archer hits the dirt, face-first, not even twitching. Yeah, that really puts his strength into perspective. And the guy’s not even trying.

His orcs stand off to the side, just watching the show. It’s all him, clad in white—a streak of light slicing through the dim backdrop, mowing down fighters. Boom! Boom! Thwack! Thwack! Men are flying in every direction from nothing more than kicks, punches, and slaps. No fancy moves, just raw power, and not a single player can put up a fight, despite all their skills.

I’m awestruck, mouth hanging open. But inside, fear chews away at the edges of my sanity. The hope of me ever beating this guy? It’s spiraling down the drain. These fighters, with their combined level pushing three hundred, can’t even scratch him. The guy’s not fifty or below; he’s definitely above, maybe even close to a hundred. That’s… too much! My odds are already sub-zero. The moment I step in, I’m toast. Burnt to a crisp. Fuck!

And if that’s not enough, let’s talk about his personality. After all this thrashing, nobody’s dead. Sure, their endurance is impressive, but if he wanted, he could end them with a flick of his wrist. Instead, he’s playing around, holding back. Some are out cold; others are left just conscious enough to stew in their frustration.

He’s got complete control, a total sadist. It’s all for his amusement. He’s out to milk every drop of entertainment from us. That’s why he let me go—right now, I’m just not worth his time.

Honestly, I never want to be worth his time. But with six dungeons to clear and him likely guarding one, I’m open to other options. Got any? No? Well, might as well prepare myself for the worst.

I avert my eyes and sit there, listening to the crunch of bones and the pained howls that follow. Inside, I’m praying for it to end, and by some stroke of luck, it seems whichever deity is out there hears me. The boss halts, leaving no player standing against him, then strolls back, surveying the scene. I see him nod to himself. Is he just satisfied, or is there more to come? I can’t tell.

He snaps his fingers, and one by one, the orcs crumble to dust, disappearing from the field in seconds. That’s a terrifying ability. He turns to me, and my body stiffens, completely against my will. The darkness beneath his hood seems to deepen with every glance. He tilts his head and gives me a casual wave. I gulp hard, knowing that’s not a goodbye but a signal to wait for him. He’s coming for me. Then, I blink, and he’s gone, just like that.

“Off to enjoy another round of torment, huh?” I scoff, slumping onto the ground as I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. With a grunt, I stretch out my limbs. No pain or fatigue, but after everything that’s happened, it doesn’t hurt to take a moment to relax.

The thunder and lightning are long gone, replaced by a gentle wind rustling through the leaves, lulling me to sleep. My eyelids grow heavier and heavier until bright rays break through the dark, forcing my eyes open. I’m greeted by a sky so clear it almost looks fake. The sun is about to set, casting everything in a warm, golden glow. Birds soar overhead, butterflies glide by, and among them, I start to notice golden particles floating around. I reach out to touch them, but they slip away, just out of reach.

More and more particles emerge, tugging at my curiosity. I get up, drawn to their source. And then it hits me—the bodies of my fallen comrades, slowly turning into golden particles under the sun's gentle touch. The wind picks them up, carrying them off into the sunset, and I can’t help but hope they’re being guided somewhere better.

“I wanted to bury you guys, but I’m actually glad I didn’t. This is the ending you deserve,” I say with a wry smile, feeling a strange urge to wave as they float away. “Thanks for whatever help you gave. I appreciate it… I know you didn’t make much of a mark in this life, but I bet you’ll make something of yourself in the next. Don’t you let me down, alright?”

There’s no answer, but I have a feeling they heard me. Or maybe my emotions are getting the better of me, even though I barely knew these people. Emotions are strange that way.

I chuckle to myself, but it’s cut short by a growl behind me. “Muppet,” I hear, and I roll my eyes. “Quit chatting with the dead… and focus on the living, damn it.”

I pretend not to hear him and start walking toward the rest of the group. But then he shouts, “Hey… hey, where are you going?” Seems he’s got excellent hearing—if only his attitude matched. “Please…” he begs, and I pause. “Help me, please. I’m… sorry. I won’t call you a muppet anymore. We’re friends… now. Please, help me!”

“Friends, are we now? Well, in that case, I need more than just a simple apology,” I say, taking a step away from him.

“...Whatever you want!” Desperation oozes from his voice. He must be in rough shape.

“You promise?”

“I swear… on my mother’s grave. Just help me now, please! I can’t feel my legs anymore. My legs, my legs!”

I don’t know how much he truly loves his mother, but judging by his simpleton nature, he probably won’t lie. I can take his word for it.

So, I retrace my steps with a smirk, hatching a plan to make the most of this newly forged friendship.