He was watching the Horned Rabbit, as it sat on the frying pan, when Arthur popped into the kitchen.

"What's cooking?" he asked, as he casually opened the fridge, before shutting it.

"Poison," Danny answered. He meant it, too, as Monster meat was poisonous. "But it's just Horned Rabbit," Danny added. That was important, as dying to Horned Rabbit meat had become less rare. Instead, it felt like you'd nearly die.

Arthur frowned. "I'll get my Antidote ready, then," he mumbled, turning back.

Danny wasn't a professional chef, but he thought he had cooked something good.

It was, of course, the Horned Rabbit, with spices and some other stuff.

"Good luck," Danny told Arthur, as he put a piece of meat into his mouth. His face lit up, as he chewed, before swallowing.

"That's actually good," Arthur exclaimed, before cleaning the rest of his plate.

"Why does that sound like an insult?" Danny grumbled, before eating his own food.

It was good. The meat was juicy, with enough extra flavour put in. Plus, it combined almost perfectly.

They stared at each other after the meal, eyes glazed over from happiness.

"Did you take your Antidote?" Danny asked. Arthur answered by shaking his head. Then, his head fell to the table, causing a loud thud.

Danny groggily moved to the other side of the table. Even if he was late, Arthur wouldn't die.

He patted Arthur's body from head-to-toe, finding the Antidote. It was a green liquid inside a small vial. Propping Arthur up, Danny poured the entire vial into his mouth.

Danny made sure Arthur swallowed it.

Then, he moved Arthur to his bed. Afterwards, Danny went to his own bed, shutting his eyes.

He had trouble sleeping. He had been poisoned, nearly killed, tricked, and then ate Monster food.

And he wasn't forgetting the part about meeting the protagonist of the novel. Plus several other side characters.

But, he was getting embarrassed, remembering that he was poisoned right in front of them. 'What a great first impression,' Danny sarcastically thought, burying his head into the pillow.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

An hour passed by, with Danny being unable to sleep.

He slipped out of his bed, despite his body burning. He was headed to the Arena this time.

It was where he fought the Instructor, Sun.

It was empty, which was rather unusual. Even at this time, there was normally always someone using one of the Arena's.

Especially the protagonist, who almost never slept. It was a characteristic of the Demon Race. Needing less sleep than a human, that is. But, he still needed rest. Currently, his sleeping routine should be once a week. Once time passes, and he gets stronger, he needs less and less sleep.

But that was that, and this is this.

He imagined fighting Sun, remembering what happened today.

Danny moved, as the imaginary Sun kept blocking, deflecting, or dodging all of his attacks.

It was tough, fighting against one that wasn't real, especially when you didn't know them that well. Even in his own imagination, he couldn't win. He could only surprise him to the point he sent out an attack that would've killed him.

He stopped, just as he was killed. Danny could see someone else in an Arena. Arogel was fighting to his heart's content, likely doing the same thing he had done.

Except, for him, he was fighting an actual opponent in a VR setting his system had.

That was one thing he didn't like about Arogel. Despite being destined to be powerful through enough work and help, he had a system. It wasn't even like it did nothing.

No, it helped in nearly everything: Class, fights, practise, training, locating Dungeons, finding out weaknesses, etc.

It made Danny angry, just thinking about it.

Danny decided to just ignore Arogel's existence, instead focusing on his drawing technique now.

He had to have a good drawing technique, in order to do well in Cross Slash.

Cross Slash, in and of itself, wasn't particularly strong. It's just that it had a wide versatility and was overshadowed by other techniques.

It started out with a simple draw, from the scabbard, then out. Then, once it came out, he drew it to the right, bringing it downward.

Then, he sheathed his sword, repeating his actions. He kept his eyes closed, focused on the motions he had to accomplish.

He did it slowly, no more than slow, light swings that wouldn't do anything to an actual enemy.

But, one day, it would be a lot more than that. Just, not today.

Arogel stopped, breathless from all of his attacking and dodging, unable to block or even deflect a single one of his enemy's attacks. "VR off," he called. He watched with fascination, as the world quickly blended back into reality, rather than the dark abyss he was fighting in. His opponent, a Demon who was always stronger than himself, smirked as it blinked out of existence.

Arogel looked around, then saw August. He almost laughed at the fool's training. Before, August had left for a bathroom break. When he came back, he found August there, acting as if he was fighting.

To Arogel, it looked like a child swinging a sword around. Nothing impressive, nor was it something that seemed to be taught to him.

Now, he was just drawing his sword, swinging it, then sheathing, repeat.

He calmed himself, instantly, through the breathing technique he was taught when he was young. It never did any good to be angry.

"What technique is that?" he asked, getting an answer not through words, but a notice that appeared in his vision.

[It is not a technique.]

That was the answer he got. This time, Arogel couldn't hold back his laughter.

He heard his own laughter, ceaselessly ringing off the walls. He didn't even feel bad.

He wasn't practising a technique? Then, Arogel was correct in his prediction. August was just some rich loser, pretending to be strong.