The Abyssal Wilds were waking up. The morning mist clung to the forest floor like a wet, gray blanket, swirling around the massive roots of the ancient trees.
Lysander moved through the undergrowth with the silence of a ghost. His stomach was no longer growling; it was cramping, a sharp, twisting reminder that a single magical fruit was not enough to fuel a Level 30 body. His eyes scanned the greenery, his pupils dilated, searching for movement.
Snap.
A twig broke about fifty meters ahead.
Lysander froze instantly. He didn't breathe. He merged with the shadows of a large fern, activating his Stealth instincts.
Slowly, carefully, he parted the leaves in front of him.
There it was.
Standing in a small clearing, grazing on luminescent moss, was the target.
[ANALYSIS COMPLETE]
[Target: Iron-Hide Bison]
[Rank: D]
[Status: Healthy / Unaware]
[Description: A massive beast, easily the size of a minivan. Its fur was matted and thick, reinforced with natural plates of iron-like keratin growing on its shoulders and flanks]
It was ugly. It smelled of wet musk and dirt. It had jagged horns that could impale a man.
But to Lysander, it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
He stared at the creature's massive hind legs. He didn't see a monster; he saw raw ingredients. He saw thick, juicy steaks sizzling over an open fire. He saw ribs dripping with fat. He saw a roast that would finally stop the gnawing emptiness in his gut.
"Meat..." Lysander whispered, a primitive hunger taking over his rational mind.
He actually felt a drop of saliva pool in his mouth. He swallowed hard, licking his lips. The image of the roasted bison was so vivid in his mind that he could almost smell the smoke.
"I'm going to eat you," he thought, his eyes locked on the beast's flank. "I'm going to eat every single pound of you."
Without thinking, his right hand moved.
A familiar weight materialized in his grip. The air around him suddenly grew colder, and a faint, dark purple mist began to leak from his hand.
VMMMMmmm...
Erebos: The Edge of Ruin hummed with excitement. The greatsword sensed the prey. The red eye on the hilt snapped open, glowing with a malevolent light. The sword was thirsty. It wanted to drink. It was ready to unleash [Queen's Venom] and rot the beast from the inside out.
Lysander raised the massive black blade, his muscles tensing for the strike. He prepared to use Shadow Flash to teleport right above the bison and cleave it in two with a single, devastating blow.
"Die," Lysander hissed.
He took a step forward.
And then, he stopped.
He looked down at the sword in his hand. He looked at the purple aura that was already corroding the grass near his boots.
A realization hit him like a bucket of ice water.
"Wait."
He stared at Erebos.
"If I hit it with this..." Lysander muttered, his face paling. "The Soul Drinker passive will activate"
He played the scenario in his head:
He swings Erebos. The bison dies instantly. The sword rejoices. The bison's body turns into grey ash and dissolves into the wind. Lysander gets Mana, but no Meat.
He would be left standing in a pile of dust, hungry and crying, just like yesterday.
"No"
Lysander yanked his hand back as if the sword had burned him.
"Bad habit! Bad!" he scolded himself, whispering furiously. "My muscle memory almost starved me again. I am so used to being a swordsman that I almost destroyed my breakfast"
He glared at the sword.
"Not today, Erebos. You're on a diet. This kill is for my stomach, not yours."
"Inventory"
With a thought, the massive greatsword vanished into the dimensional storage. The purple mist dissipated.
Lysander took a deep breath, shaking his hand to reset his nerves.
"Focus, Lysander. You have tools for this. Precise tools. Surgical tools"
He reached for his hips.
Click.
His hands wrapped around the cool, matte-black grips of the Twin-Star Revolvers. They felt lighter, more refined. There was no bloodlust coming from these weapons, only a cold, mechanical efficiency.
He drew them slowly. The gold runes along the barrels flared to life, glowing with a soft, azure blue light.
"Guns," Lysander whispered, a grin returning to his face. "Clean kill. No rot. No disintegration. Just a hole in the head and a body on the ground"
He raised the right revolver. He didn't need to spray and pray. This was a hunt for food, which meant he couldn't ruin the meat with too many shots.
He steadied his breathing.
The Iron-Hide Bison was still chewing the moss, completely unaware that death was pointing at it from twenty meters away. The beast turned slightly, exposing its temple—a small, unarmored spot between its eye and its iron plated ear.
Lysander narrowed his eyes. His Intelligence calculated the angle, the wind, and the mana output required to pierce the skull without exploding the entire head.
"One shot," he told himself. "Make it count."
He squeezed the trigger.
PHEW.
There was no thunderous bang. Just the sharp, high-pitched sound of air being split apart.
A beam of condensed blue mana shot from the barrel. It was a streak of light, faster than sound.
The Bison didn't even have time to look up.
THWACK.
The beam hit the beast exactly in the temple. It didn't explode; it pierced. The energy bolt traveled through the brain, severing the connection to the body instantly, and exited the other side, embedding itself in a tree trunk.
The massive beast stiffened for a fraction of a second.
Then, its legs gave out.
THUD.
The Iron-Hide Bison collapsed onto the grass. Heavy. Solid. Real.
It didn't turn to dust. It didn't vanish. It just lay there, a fresh, intact carcass.
[THE REWARD]
Lysander held his breath for a full five seconds, watching the body. He was terrified that it might start dissolving late.
But it stayed there.
Ding!
[TARGET ELIMINATED]
[Target: Iron-Hide Bison] (Rank D)
[Experience: +1,200 EXP]
[System Points: +50 SP]
Lysander lowered the gun, watching the notification float in the air.
"50 SP," Lysander read aloud, his voice flat. "And 1,200 EXP"
He stared at the glowing blue text floating above the carcass.
Few week ago, this reward would have made his heart race. Back when he was fighting for his life against wolves, 50 Points was a fortune. It was a Health Potion. It was a meal. It was the difference between living and dying.
But now?
He looked at the numbers with cold indifference. With over 11,000 points in his bank and a goal that required god-like power, this reward felt insignificant. It wasn't a treasure anymore; it was just loose change found in the dirt.
"I really have changed," he whispered, swiping the notification away with a casual flick of his hand. "The small victories don't satisfy me anymore."
He didn't celebrate. He just turned around and kept walking.
But then he looked past the blue screen, at the brown mound of fur and meat on the ground.
"Forget the points," Lysander laughed, holstering the revolver with a joyful spin.
"That right there... that is the real Jackpot"
He ran out of the bushes, sprinting toward the dead bison. He placed his hand on its warm flank. It was solid.
"Meat," he said, patting the beast affectionately. "Real, actual meat."
He immediately opened his Inventory.
"Store Item"
ZAP.
The massive bison vanished, safely stored in his dimensional pocket.
Lysander patted his chest, feeling a wave of relief wash over him. He hadn't messed up. He hadn't forgotten it. And he hadn't disintegrated it.
"Okay," Lysander said, turning back to the jungle with renewed energy. "Breakfast is secured. Now, I can focus on the real hunt."
He looked deeper into the wild, his hunger finally promised a cure.
"But first... I need to find a safe place to start a fire"
Lysander moved away from the kill site, trekking until he found a small, secluded alcove nestled between two massive boulders. The wind was blocked here, and the thick canopy above hid the smoke from aerial predators.
"This is good," he muttered, inspecting the ground. "Defensible. Hidden"
He leaned against the rock, checking the Quest Timer in his peripheral vision.
[QUEST: THE RITE OF EVOLUTION]
[Time Remaining: 6 Days, 22 Hours]
He let out a relaxed breath, dismissing the window.
"Seven days," he said, a faint smile playing on his lips. the Stratified Domain—are far, but I don't need to rush like a madman. I have a whole week to track down a Rank-B Boss."
He stretched his arms, feeling the tension in his shoulders.
"Rest is part of the hunt. If I arrive
exhausted, I'll just be an easy snack"
"Inventory"
He stored the Twin-Star Revolvers back into the void. His hands felt lighter, free of weapons for the first time in hours.
Whirrr...
A soft blue pulse radiated from him, sweeping through the trees and rocks.
[SCAN COMPLETE]
[THREAT LEVEL: 0]
[No hostile entities detected within 500 meters. The area is secure]
"Perfect"