Chapter 4: Blood Rush
He ran.
Branches clawed at his face. Roots tried to trip him. The world blurred into streaks of green, black, and firelight.
Gunshots attract monsters.
A truth he figured out the hard way.
Behind him, the scorched earth crackled, steam rising where his bullets had found flesh. But he didn't stop to admire his kill. No time. No rest.
His lungs burned, but his lips…
…were smiling.
A wild grin, stretching across his blood-smeared face.
His heart—cold, mechanical, for years—now pounded in his chest like a war drum. Alive. Awake. Thrumming with something primal.
Fear?
No.
Excitement.
He was excited.
In the middle of a monster-infested hellhole, alone, bleeding, weapon near empty—
He felt more alive than in twenty years.
Did he miss the office? The concrete tower of dead dreams? The fake smiles, the lifeless sex, the monotonous grind of a CEO pretending to care?
Hell no.
That life was a cage. A nicely furnished coffin with glass walls and high-speed internet.
This?
THIS was life.
A growl. To his left.
Too late.
The hound burst through a burnt bush, eyes glowing like hot coals. Slobber hissed on the ground as its molten saliva dripped.
Ethan didn't flinch.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Three quick shots. One to the snout, one to the chest, and one as it lunged. The final bullet hit the eye. It screamed—a wet, gurgling howl—and collapsed mid-air.
But it twitched. Still alive.
He stepped forward, blade ready.
With a practiced thrust, he plunged the jagged steel into its neck, twisted, then yanked upward.
Silence.
Another one down.
His breathing came heavier now, but the grin didn't fade. Blood sprayed across his forearm. His torn business suit, once a symbol of power, now hung like war-tattered rags.
He ran again.
No path. No direction. Just motion. Instinct.
Predators followed sound and smell. Staying still was death.
Another snarl ahead.
Ethan ducked under a branch just in time as a second fire hound lunged.
He rolled, came up to one knee—
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Three bullets to the chest. Not enough.
The beast staggered.
Ethan didn't wait. He charged. Knife first.
His shoulder slammed into it, knocking it off-balance. The blade pierced under the ribcage, driving upward, over and over until the body went limp.
He yanked the knife free, chest heaving, then moved again. No time to enjoy the kill.
Then he saw it.
A flicker in the branches above. Coiled. Still. Watching.
A long, serpentine creature, its scales like rusted iron, camouflaged against the burnt bark. A snake the size of a man's torso.
Ethan froze for a split second.
Then acted.
Bang. Bang.
Two clean shots to the head.
It dropped—but wasn't dead.
The thing convulsed violently, tail whipping.
Ethan leapt forward, grabbing it mid-thrash. He drove his knife again and again into the base of its skull, through bone and sinew. Each stab spurted black, steaming blood.
By the fifth stab, the twitching stopped.
He stood over it, panting. His hand trembled—not from fear, but exhaustion.
Click.
He raised the gun again out of habit.
Empty.
Of course.
He glanced at the slide. No bullets left. No spare mag.
He looked at the snake, the hounds, the trail of blood behind him.
Three kills. No help. No backup. Just will.
He tossed the gun aside. It had served its purpose.
Ding!
A soft chime echoed in his ears. No sound source. Just… inside his head.
---
> Quest Complete.
> "Host is advised to find shelter and rest."
---
His eyes scanned the forest. Smoke still lingered from where the fire hounds had passed, but the immediate area was clear.
Then he saw it.
A hollow tree trunk, large enough for a grown man to crawl into. The bark was blackened, and claw marks lined the base. A predator's den, maybe.
But what choice did he have?
He moved, careful but quick. Every muscle ached now, fatigue finally catching up. As he reached the tree, he spotted a fallen log nearby—perfect.
He dragged the bark slab across the entrance behind him, sealing the hollow with a small slit for light and air.
Inside, it was damp and musky, but safe. Quiet. He sat back against the inner wall, gripping his blood-stained blade like a lifeline.
His vision blurred.
Not from blood loss—but from something else.
Ding!
> Installation Complete – 100%
Activating [Hollow Crown System]...
A shimmering blue interface blinked into view in front of him. His eyes widened.
Not fear. Not confusion.
Just curiosity.
---
SYSTEM INTERFACE: ACTIVE
> Name: Ethan Cross
Race: Human
Legacy: [Locked]
Title: [None]
Talent: [To Be Assigned]
Elemental Affinities: [To Be Unlocked]
---
Level: 2
Unassigned Stat Points: 4
Base Stats (Average Human Male = 1)
Strength: 1.4
Vitality: 2.0
Agility: 2.1
Intelligence: 1.5
Mana: 1.5
---
Stat Growth Per Level (Human):
Strength: +0.5
Vitality: +1.0
Agility: +1.0
Intelligence: +0.5
Mana: +0.5
---
He examined the screen.
Stronger. Faster. Sharper.
He had leveled up—become something more than just a man with a knife.
And those 4 unassigned points?
He could feel the potential buzzing in his veins, waiting to be molded.
---
> Quest Complete – View Rewards: [Click to Reveal]
---
He hovered his finger over the option.
But paused.
Outside, a low growl echoed far off in the distance.
Predators still roamed.
His time was limited.
He leaned his head back, exhaling slowly.
The pain in his limbs. The blood on his skin. The smell of smoke and iron.
This world tried to kill him.
And failed.
So give me everything, he thought. The system, the power, the trials. I'll earn every drop.
He clicked
[...]