Malik stood his ground against the three low-level beasts launching at him. Although they were classified as low-level, each one stood higher on the food chain than him — a mere Level 0 player, a broken mortal standing with no weapons, no armor, and no hope of matching them in stats.
But there was something strange about this Level 0 player.
Even the beasts, wild and instinct-driven, could feel it.
Malik's state of mind wasn't clouded by fear. His breathing was steady, his heartbeat calm. His expression — not the face of prey, not of someone awaiting death.
He looked almost... confident.
Malik, though talentless, had always drowned himself in novels and movies. Fantasy, adventure, the thrill of impossible odds — it had all pulled him into God's Realm, despite not being a gamer at heart. He believed his book-smart experience would somehow help him survive in this world. But fate, as always, had its own cruel plans.
Now here he stood — bare chest, bare hands — staring down death.
The beasts lunged at him from three angles, swift and ruthless. The Level 3 beast's claw sliced through the air, aiming directly for his throat.
But Malik moved.
His body twisted into an unnatural angle, almost as if his bones detached for just a second, as he weaved through the attack. His feet carried him directly toward the first beast — the one he had attacked earlier.
The Level 2 beast, barely regaining its balance, raised its head and saw Malik charging straight at it.
It hesitated. For just one heartbeat, it wondered: How did he dodge that? But instincts pushed it forward. It leaped, mouth wide open, aiming to rip Malik's head from his shoulders.
Malik's counterattack was already mid-motion.
His fist shot forward, targeting the gaping mouth of the beast. The creature, in that split-second, almost felt amused. A bare fist against fangs? Foolish.
But the moment before contact, Malik's wrist twisted.
The angle shifted.
His fist, no longer aimed for the mouth, slammed directly into the creature's jaw.
BANG!
The beast's body spun through the air, its HP plummeting rapidly until the number hit zero.
In an instant, its body shattered into a burst of bubbles, leaving behind a few common coins.
Malik stood still, staring at his own fist. His expression wasn't joy or relief — only shock.
'That was...'
Ping!
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His eyes froze on the notification. The shock hollowed his chest.
"What?"
His trembling fingers summoned his status page. There, the words glared back at him:
Class: Cultivator.
A class that wasn't meant to exist. Not here. Not in God's Realm.
Does this mean I can't gain EXP? I can't level up? I'll be stuck at Level 0... forever?
Panic spread through his chest, curling like an iron chain around his heart.
"No.."
The word tore from his throat, loud enough that the surrounding trees quivered under the force. Even the beasts froze, hesitating — not out of strategy, but fear.
Malik's aura, wild and unstable, burst outward.
His mind was spiraling, lost in fear and disbelief, but another part of him — cold and determined — wanted confirmation. One beast wasn't proof enough. He had to be sure.
His body moved.
The two low-level beasts, paralyzed under his suppressing aura, couldn't even react. His fists crashed into them like hammers, snuffing out their HP bars in a single hit each. Their bodies dissolved into piles of rubbles, leaving only a few scattered coins.
Ping!
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The same result. Again.
His heart sank. A bottomless, cold weight formed in his chest.
It's real. It wasn't a glitch...
The last surviving beast, the Level 3, had seen enough. Driven by fear, it turned tail and sprinted for its life.
But Malik's expression was hollow, unreadable. His body moved like it no longer belonged to him, almost mechanical, as he launched himself into the air.
Higher than any Level 10 player could ever hope to reach.
At the apex, he twisted, descending with force. His elbows drove straight into the beast's back.
BANG!
The beast let out one final, agonizing cry. Its HP shattered to zero, and it burst into light — its life erased, leaving only some common coins and a single piece of material.
Only now, standing still, did Malik realize. That impossible leap, the speed, the strength — it wasn't normal.
It was his physique.
And then the notification he'd been waiting for echoed in his head.
Ping!
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Malik bit his lip, hard. The pain couldn't drown out the growing frustration in his chest.
Was this new path a blessing? Or a curse? He couldn't tell.
He bent down to pick up the loots scattered across the blood-stained ground. That's when another sound rang in his head.
Ping!
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'SQP?'
His eyes widened. His heart skipped a beat as the next notifications flashed one after another:
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He stood there, stiff, staring at the numbers on his interface.
His brain felt like it couldn't catch up.
Why? Why was EXP converted? What is SQP? Will this even help me level up?
Hands shaking, he opened his status page:
[Player Status]
Name: Malik
Class: Cultivator
Stage: Half-Step Body Refinement Realm
Level: 0
HP: 200/220
QP: [...]
SQP: 750/1000
His thoughts spiraled even deeper.
'My status has really changed a lot. In place of Experience points... I now have SQP. Maybe once it's full, I'll reach Level 1... but this QP... it used to stand for Mana, so does it mean...'
Ping!
The notification shattered his focus. He glanced at his system interface.
His map was online. The fog of war had cleared, and his current position blinked back at him.
And that's when he saw it. The name.
Feral Cave.
Another notification appeared.
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Malik's lips curled into a dry, bitter smile.
"The Feral Cave... the one every early-phase player hunts for. AND to think I just walked into it."
His feet moved, carrying him deeper into the cave. The moment his eyes adjusted to the dim light, his heart froze.
There it stood.
[Feral Horned Wolf] [Lv. 3 Common Monster]
[HP: 600/600]
His eyes locked on the health bar, cold sweat forming on his back.
"This is going to be difficult."