Nathan hadn’t been paying close enough attention to his timer.

Why had he wasted so much time? He should’ve grinded more to level up.

But he’d been afraid.

And now he was paying the price.

Nathan bit the inside of his cheek. He had an entire bag full of flashbangs. He had a harpoon too. Maybe he’d be able to get out of this if he played his cards right.

My accuracy is insane with [Cast]. What if I hook the flashbangs up to my fishing pole, pull the trigger, and throw them right into that thing’s face?

It sounded like a good plan. After its stunned, he could throw his harpoon. Given how the weapon could apparently stab through two or three trees in a row, it would probably be strong enough to pierce the Gliding Eel.

Nathan grabbed a tomato from his inventory and bit into it. The juices energized him.

He’d do this. He’d fight the Gliding Eel, get out of this circle, then (hopefully) never fight again.

Nathan took a deep breath and headed to the surface.

----------------------------------------

Nathan sat on the side of the black lake. On the outside, he seemed perfectly calm. Internally, his heart pounded away like a drum. Goosebumps ran along the back of his neck in waves.

The lake was quiet. No ripples, no nothing. Behind him, the sun had yet to rise.

He gulped and looked to his left. His harpoon sat right beside his fishing rod. The fishing rod was hooked to a rope bag containing dozens of flashbangs.

Nathan had wrapped vines around the metal pins for the flashbangs. The hope was that he could pull on the central vine and all of the pins would come out.

Nathan looked back toward the sky. Still no sign of the Gliding Eel.

Is it too late to back out?

The Gliding Eel had twenty levels on him. Could Nathan hope to stand up against something like that?

I don’t have a choice.

Two days left. There was no more time. He wanted to go level up more, but realistically, how many more levels would he be able to get? Two? Three? And what if he missed his chance to kill the Gliding Eel because he was out in the forest?

Be brave.

He had to get to Sarah. That was all that mattered.

The minutes ticked by. Nothing seemed to happen.

Some of the tension unwrapped from Nathan’s spine. The sun started to peek from behind him.

A ripple came from the water.

Nathan froze.

It came from the sky last time, right?

He stopped breathing.

A second passed by. Two seconds. Ten seconds. He breathed out. The paranoia must’ve been getting to him. The water rippled again. His senses screamed that something was in the water.

Glittering scales exploded out of the lake.

Nathan hesitated for a split-second, and then reached for his fishing rod.

He was too slow. It’s jaws opened before he could react.

Flashbangs flashbangs flashbangs—

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

The Gliding Eel had gotten behind him.

There was a cool sensation near his hand, something like an ice cube being applied to it.

Then he realized what had happened.

His arm

was

gone

----------------------------------------

Nathan stared at his arm for a second.

What just happened?

There was no way he’d just lost his arm, right?

Right?

Right?

Right?

His heartbeat increased and he felt the pain dull.

Adrenaline is a hell of a drug.

He heard the Gliding Eel’s wings flapping back.

Nathan pulled on the vine connected to the flashbang pins. He reached out with his other hand—oh. He couldn’t use that hand.

It was gone.

He used his first hand instead and grabbed the fishing rod. With every ounce of strength he had in his body, he twisted his hips and casted the bag of flashbangs right at the Gliding Eel.

He shut his eyes and looked down.

A moment later, the world lit up with light. Even with his eyes shut, he felt it burn his retinas. Sound exploded, making his ears ring.

Nathan opened his eyes and rushed for the cavern. Out of the corner of his vision, he spotted the Gliding Eel flailing about on the ground.

This would’ve been the perfect time to strike, if not for the fact that his arm was gone.

He reached the bottom of the cavern. His vision started to blacken. He was losing blood quickly.

How did people stop blood loss? A tourniquet was one way—damn it, he didn’t have time.

Nathan spotted the campfire and pulled out the jeweled sword from his inventory. He held the fire over the embers.

Blodo gushed from his body. There was no time to backtrack.

I’m such an idiot.

He dipped his destroyed arm stump into the water to clean it. Red tendrils spread through the water like an oil spill.

The metal was white hot. He stared at it and tears rushed to his eyes.

This was going to hurt.

He pressed the sword against the wound. The world lit up white and he nearly fell over from the amount of pain flooding his nervous system. A loud ring banged against his eardrums. He screamed at the top of his lungs, tears and snot gushing down his face.

Why me? Whymewhymewhymewhy—

After a few more seconds, he pulled away the sword.

Exhaustion slammed into him like a freight train and he fell to the ground. He convulsed against the hard rock.

The blackness crept at the edge of his vision, and his heart slowed.

And the world went black.

----------------------------------------

Nathan awoke to a blistering headache. He reached backward to try to rub his temples, only for one limb to remain stubbornly unmoved. He opened his eyes and looked at the offending arm.

But there was nothing to look at.

His brain refused to process it for a moment. He stared at the empty space where his arm should be, waiting for his vision to correct itself. An achievement notification popped up, but the words blurred together, meaningless. All he could focus on was the wrongness of it.

[Achievement get: Need a hand?]

You lost an arm during the apocalypse—

He tried to dismiss the notification with his missing arm. The action was so automatic, so natural, that its failure sent a wave of nausea through him. The water dripped somewhere in the background, each drop a hammer against his skull. Tap. Tap. Tap. He pushed himself up with his remaining arm—his only arm—and caught his reflection in the murky water.

The wound had healed overnight, leaving nothing but a smooth stump. Clean. Neat. Like his arm had never existed at all.

His fingers trembled against the ground.

A quiet voice echoed in his head.

Are you really going to let it get away with that?

Nathan frowned. Get away with what?

Hurting you.

What's the point? The words felt distant, disconnected from himself.

The voice laughed, and the sound sent chills down his spine. Nathan. I'm not another person. You can't trick me. I'm you.

I'm not tricking anyone. Nathan stared at the ground, watching the water ripple. I don't want to fight this thing.

Yes you do. The voice grew sharper, more insistent. Not only do you want to kill it, you want to rip it to shreds. You want to claw its eyes out. You want to tear its tongue out. I can see all of your fantasies, so stop trying to pretend otherwise.

Nathan's remaining hand shook. The drops of water now sounded like drums right against his ears.

"I want to kill it," he said aloud.

Yes.

"I want to tear it apart." His voice cracked. "I hate it."

Nathan had never hated someone before. He thought he had, in the past.

He hadn't.

This was different. This hatred had weight. Had teeth. It was a white-hot feeling running down his spine, making his breaths come faster and heavier. How dare some disgusting Eel eat his arm? It was an insult. A personal insult.

The water kept dripping, but now each drop sounded like a promise. Like a countdown. Kill it. Kill it.

Kill it.

Kill it. Kill itKill itkill itkill itkill itkill itkill itkill itkill itkill itkill itkill itkill itkill itkill itkill itkill itkill itkill itkill itkill itkill itkill itkill itkill itkill itkill itkill it

Take an hour to fish. You might find something useful beforehand if some deity is really watching over you. Perhaps your friend, Finny, left more gifts.

Nathan wanted to go out and kill the Gliding Eel, but the voice was right. Besides, it was only an hour.

He pulled out his fishing rod.

By the end of the hour, he’d fished two things.

[Fishing Hook] (E+-rank)

He installed it onto his fishing rod with one hand. It was a pain, but he’d been through worse.

He lifted it experimentally.

Even heavier than before.

He looked at the other thing he’d obtained. It was some sort of box.

Nathan opened it up.

Just what I need to finish the job.