You know things are bad when the final dungeon portal looks like it's daring you to be stupid.
The entrance to the 10th floor was right there pulsing, glowing, basically screaming "Hey, come die here!"
Was it a dungeon? Was it hell? Honestly, at this point, did it even matter?
One thing I did know:
My basic Mana Manipulation had just hit Level 9, and I could feel the magic pouring out of that portal like it was trying to drown me.
Spoiler alert: not a good sign.
Rest first.
Plan second.
Charge into certain death? A distant third.
Because guess what? Reality doesn't come with save points. You mess up here, you don't get to reload your last checkpoint. You just...die. Very messily.
Thanks to my slightly boosted Intelligence and Wisdom stats (finally paying off, thanks brain), I'd figured out something important:
Most normal adults?
Stat average of ten. Across the board.
I Appraised pretty much everyone I bumped into , teachers, cashiers, random dudes at the gas station and with Appraisal at Level 8, I could actually see their full stats now.
And yep, they were all rocking that solid 10/10/10 lifestyle.
If someone specialized, they might push a little higher. Like teachers maybe rocking 15 or 20 Intelligence.
Woo. Academic powerhouse.
But leveling up?
Forget it.
They didn't get free stat points. They didn't get shiny new skills.
My buddy Jimmy hit Level 4 a few days ago.
His "growth"?
+1 STR. +1 DEX.
Nothing for INT, nothing for WIS, nothing anywhere else.
Big whoop.
And even if they did get points somehow...what were they supposed to do?
Tap the air? Mentally click "+5 STR"?
Yeah, right.
Reality wasn't built for gamers.
Lucky me, though.
I guess I was the exception.
The glitch in the system.
And glitches?
We're either game-breakers...or crashers.
Here's hoping for the first one.
Looking at my stats right now?
Yeah.
I felt like a brute.
Not gonna lie, it hurt a little.
I mean, 100 Strength? 80 Vitality?
I was basically built like a human battering ram in a hoodie.
And the worst part?
I didn't even want to be a tank.
If this was an RPG, I would've obviously picked mage, wizard, sorcerer, you know, someone who throws fireballs and looks cool doing it.
That was my style.
Glass cannon life, baby.
But reality had other ideas.
I didn't get my hands on magic until way too late.
Meanwhile, my Strength stat took off like it was late for a flight.
Now my Intelligence and mana were basically playing sad catch-up games.
Trying, sure, bless their little stat hearts but so far behind.
Still, real battle experience had made one thing crystal clear:
I needed magic.
Badly.
Long-range attacks?
Insanely useful.
Explosion-based problem solving?
Underrated.
So yeah.
The plan going forward?
Keep punching things, sure — but also fireball the ever-living daylights out of anything that even thought about breathing near me.
Balanced lifestyle.
Sort of.
I pulled out some food and water from my inventory, sat down like a sad little picnic, and started eating slowly.
Real slow.
Mostly because I was busy thinking about how not to become a cautionary tale.
First order of business: check my gear.
Because apparently somewhere between "getting stabbed" and "exploding goblins," I'd picked up half a thrift store's worth of loot.
Problem was, I was already kinda strong.
Like, rip-a-door-off-its-hinges strong.
Which meant finding actual upgrades now was harder than trying to fix your life with inspirational quotes.
I opened my inventory and pulled out the Minor Heal skill book.
The system immediately popped up with the world's most unnecessary question:
[Would you like to learn Minor Heal?
Yes / No]
Gee.
Let me think about that for a nanosecond.
I smashed YES so fast the system probably needed a seatbelt.
The book glowed, disintegrated into sparkles, and all the healing magic knowledge just yoinked itself straight into my brain.
No studying.
No finals.
No crying over bad grades.
Best education system ever.
If real school worked like this, I'd have a PhD by now."
Now let's review gear, shall we?
Magic Gloves:
Supposed to boost my mana regen by +3 per minute.
Translation: Slightly Magical Oven Mitts.
Not great, but hey, free is free.
Power Ring:
+3 Strength.
Now I can lift heavier regrets. Fantastic.
Cloak of the Wild:
+5 Evasion.
Makes me a tiny bit harder to hit.
Basically a fashion statement that occasionally saves my life. I'll take it.
Spike Shield:
...Yeah, no idea.
I mean, technically I can one-hand my Hobgoblin Axe now, so I could slap on a shield and play medieval dodgeball.
But do I really want to?
Extra defense sounds nice until you realize you're basically committing to running into battle like a budget Captain America.
Meanwhile, part of me was screaming:
"Just go full murder-axe tornado! You know you want to!"
Decisions are hard when you're hungry, tired, and one bad choice away from becoming floor 10's next cautionary corpse.
I actually thought about flipping a coin to decide.
Heads: equip the shield.
Tails: full murder tornado mode.
Real problem?
I didn't even have a coin.
Of course I didn't.
Because why would anything be easy?
On a whim, I even asked the system for advice.
You know, thinking maybe it would throw me a bone after everything I'd been through.
Instead, it answered:
[Maybe if you die faster, the goblins will get bored.]
...
Thanks, system.
Really inspiring.
Anyway, I finally yanked out one of the ancient coins from my inventory.
Tossed it high into the air.
Watched it spin, gleaming like it had all the answers.
It landed.
I think it was heads.
Honestly, ancient coins are so scratched up it's like trying to read tea leaves.
Still. Heads.
Shield it is.
Yeah... no.
I stuffed the shield back into my inventory and grabbed my axe with both hands.
Full murder tornado mode it is.
Because if I'm going down, I'm at least going down looking cool.
And hey — I still had one mystery box left.
Just sitting there in my inventory, glowing like it knew it held either salvation or total disappointment.
I did what any sensible, rational person would do.
I prayed.
Hard.
To every gaming god, goddess, demigod, side character, and obscure DLC final boss I could think of.
Then I opened it.
Maybe, just maybe, my Luck stat — which was supposed to be three times higher than a normal human's — would actually show up for once.
Mystery box opened.
[Congratulations! You gained:
+15 INT
+5 WIS]
I just stared at the screen.
Yes.
YES.
FINALLY.
It only took fighting an army of undead goblins, getting electrocuted, stabbed, dogpiled, and roasted alive...
But hey. Small wins.
My INT was now sitting pretty at 45.
Which meant it was time to bust open my mountain of free stat points.
I dumped 55 points straight into INT.
No hesitation.
Full turbo wizard mode, here we go.
Ta-da!
100 INT.
Super wizard coming through.
Somebody get me a robe and a suspiciously pointy hat.
I was fully expecting, I dunno, maybe a cool new spell or a Congratulations! screen.
Instead, my brain exploded.
Not literally.
But it felt like it.
Suddenly, I could see it —
Mana.
Real mana.
All around me.
In the air, in the ground, swirling through the portal ahead like some glittery cosmic smoothie.
And not just mana.
Rules.
Patterns.
Mysteries of the universe that made my basic Algebra I homework look like a toddler's doodle.
I caught a glint of something bigger — a secret so huge it didn't even make sense.
Maybe it lasted one second.
Maybe it lasted a thousand years.
I had no clue.
I just knew I'd accidentally faceplanted into some kind of wizard enlightenment trance.
I blinked back to reality with a migraine the size of Jupiter, a Sahara-dry mouth, and a powerful, completely inappropriate urge to set the entire dungeon on fire.
Then — because clearly the universe wasn't done bullying me — I heard it.
Ding.
[You took a peek at the universal laws of magic.
Your brain almost exploded.
Congratulations!]
New rewards: +20 INT
+10 WIS
Mana Affinity: Stronger
Basic Mana Manipulation ➔ Advanced Mana Manipulation Lv 3
Fireball Lv 10 (Max) ➔ Multiple Fireball Lv 2
Inferno Burst ➔ Lv 3
Mana Arrow ➔ Lv 10 Max
Light Ball ➔ Lv 10 Max
Magic Shield ➔ Lv 8
Minor Heal ➔ Lv 6
And the system just kept going.
Magic skill after magic skill started leveling up like somebody had leaned on the "Level Up" button with their elbow.
It was like machine gun fire.
Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding!
Honestly, it got so bad, I half-expected a pop-up saying:
[Warning: Stat increases may cause spontaneous combustion. Good luck!]
If this was what enlightenment felt like,
no wonder every wizard in every story went absolutely nuts.
Honestly?
Respect.
Also, mild panic.
Because now I had the firepower of a small, unstable sun...
and the self-control of a caffeinated squirrel.
Perfect combo, right?
After upgrade my status screen look like this..
Kyle Walker (Lv. 27 )
HP: 900/900
MP: 1300/1300
SP: 900/900
Stats:
STR: 52 (+40 from Great Sun Inner Energy) (+3 from Arm Guard) ( +5 leather armor ) ( 100 )
VIT: 32 (+3 from Arm Guard, +40 from Great Sun Inner Energy) ( +5 leather armor ) ( 80 )
DEX: 44 (+1 from Title ) ( 45 )
INT: 120
WIS: 45
LUK: 30
Unassigned Stat Points: 49
Unassigned Skill Points: 78
Att: 100 ( weapon+20 ) ( 120 )
Def: 80 ( Leather Armor +20 ) ( 100 )
Eva: 45
[System Remark:
Congratulations! You are now officially smarter than 99.9% of the human population.
(And still somehow dumb enough to charge into boss fights headfirst. Truly inspirational.)]
Great.
System roasted me again.
Big surprise.
At this point, it's basically part of my morning routine. Right after "wake up" and "try not to die horribly."
Whatever.
I needed more firepower, not therapy.
I pulled out the Necrofang Saber — a nasty-looking blade with +20 ATK and +10% lifesteal — and equipped it properly through the equipment menu.
(Pro tip: If you just hold stuff like a normal human, you don't get any bonus stats.
Which is dumb.
But, you know, rules.)
My status screen popped up, flashing a shiny little secondary weapon slot.
Apparently, hitting 100 Strength unlocked dual wielding.
Which meant one thing:
More weapons.
More chaos.
Way more property damage.
Exactly my style.