[MP: 54/100]
Blood painted the earth beneath his boots. The thick scent of iron saturated the air, mixing with the damp aroma of moss and soil.
Jinwoo stood still amid the carnage, his breath steady, his expression unreadable. The faint dripping of blood echoed in the silence—each drop falling from his needle-clad gauntlets like a slow, rhythmic heartbeat in a world that had forgotten to breathe.
His eyes gleamed faintly beneath the shadow of his fringe, reflecting the red that spread like ink at his feet.
For the first time, he had killed. Not beasts in training simulations. Not shadows conjured by a system. Living creatures—monsters that breathed, that moved, that screamed before they fell.
Yet there was no fear. No guilt. No trembling.
Only… satisfaction.
A quiet, unsettling satisfaction that crept up his spine and settled like a whisper in his ear.
"So this is what it feels like…" Jinwoo murmured, voice soft, almost curious.
He extended his hand slightly, and the faint violet aura flared at his fingertips. The dead goblins twitched as if pulled by unseen strings.
Their necks tore open under invisible force, flesh separating cleanly until faintly glowing crystals slipped free, glimmering like stolen embers.
Essence stones.
He caught them midair with a wave of kinetic energy, their faint light illuminating his pale skin.
"These will sell for a decent price," he muttered, though his tone lacked any real concern for value. He stored them into the void of his inventory, along with the crude remnants of battle—shattered bones, torn hides, rusted daggers. The system automatically collected what it could, obediently storing every fragment of death he created.
From the corpses, he retrieved the remaining poisoned needles—about twenty-five of them. He combined them with the previous set, commanding the cluster to hover around him.
Forty-five in total now. They floated lazily, orbiting him like a halo of silent predators, faint purple trails of mana lingering in the air.
He walked onward.
The ground crunched beneath him, a mixture of dirt and brittle bone. The forest grew denser as he advanced, the trees older and twisted, their roots coiling through the soil like veins of a buried beast.
The fog thickened, and the stench of death deepened with every step.
Then he saw it—a hut, towering above the rest.
The structure loomed in the heart of the forest clearing, built of crude wood and bone. Skulls hung from its entrance, swaying gently in the wind, clattering like hollow chimes. The faint light inside pulsed irregularly, as though something immense was breathing within.
"Is this… a boss?" Jinwoo muttered, his voice echoing faintly in the quiet gloom.
There was no hesitation. He stepped forward.
The air changed instantly—denser, heavier, suffocating. The moment he crossed the threshold, his skin tingled with raw mana, thick enough to feel like weight pressing against his chest.
A low rumble filled the hut.
Jinwoo's gaze rose, and he saw it.
A creature—two meters tall, muscles bulging beneath dark, scarred skin. Its body was wrapped in tattered furs that smelled of rot, and in its clawed hands it gripped a massive spiked club, easily the size of Jinwoo himself. Its skin was a diseased shade of green, veins bulging with mana corruption. Two yellow eyes burned like molten gold, unblinking, intelligent, and filled with primal fury.
Above its head, golden letters shimmered faintly in the dark.
[Elite Goblin]
Its breath came out in rough huffs, nostrils flaring, chest heaving like a furnace. It was stronger, sharper, and more aware than the rest. This one knew it was alive—and it knew how to kill.
Jinwoo's lips curved slightly.
"So you're the boss, huh?"
He raised his hands, and twenty of his needles glided into place, aligning along his arms like extensions of his bones. The rest circled him, controlled through his telekinetic will.
He dropped into a stance that felt unnervingly natural—his balance perfect, his center of gravity steady. He had never trained in martial arts, yet his body moved as if it remembered something his mind did not.
The Elite Goblin roared, a guttural, hate-filled sound that made the wooden walls tremble. It lunged forward, its feet cracking the ground beneath it.
The club swung downward in an arc heavy enough to crush stone.
Jinwoo didn't flinch.
Mana spread through his body instantly, hardening muscles, sharpening nerves. The needles on his gauntlets vibrated as mana surged through them, turning them into extensions of his will. The impact came—loud, brutal, like thunder trapped in a small room.
Jinwoo's fists met the descending club.
The clash sent a shockwave through the hut, scattering dust and debris. The ground cracked beneath their feet.
Jinwoo was pushed back a few steps, his boots carving shallow trenches in the dirt, but he didn't fall.
He smiled.
"That's it… come on."
Before the goblin could recover, Jinwoo flicked his wrist, and the floating needles launched like arrows.
They pierced into the monster's arm, chest, shoulder—but the creature barely staggered. Its muscles flexed, trapping the needles within its flesh.
The poison began to spread, faint black veins crawling up its skin, but it refused to yield.
"Not paralyzed?" Jinwoo muttered. "Then…"
The club swung again—faster this time. Jinwoo ducked under the motion, sliding across the blood-soaked floor, then drove his fist into the goblin's leg.
The needles along his gauntlets bit deep, slicing through tendons and muscle. Blood sprayed as Jinwoo twisted, kicking the ground to launch upward.
He slammed his other fist into its jaw. The sound of impact echoed like a bell of flesh and bone.
The goblin roared, stumbling back. Poison was working—slowly—but its resistance was immense.
Its movements were sluggish now, its swings slower, more desperate.
Jinwoo landed lightly on his feet, dust swirling around him. His hair, dark and matted with sweat, clung to his forehead.
"So, you aren't completely immune, huh?" he said quietly.
The monster roared again, but its body betrayed it—its limbs trembled, mana leaking unevenly.
Jinwoo stepped back, letting it falter. He raised a hand, and all needles ripped free from its flesh, flying back toward him in a flurry of wet sound. They circled him once before vanishing into his inventory.
He inhaled deeply. The air was heavy with blood and mana.
Then, silence.
He raised his fists once more.
"Let's end this."
Mana began to flow freely, rippling under his skin, white flames engulfed his fists.
The skill activated—Iron Fist. The aura intensified, coating his hands in a blue-white glow.
But this time, Jinwoo didn't hold back. He forced more mana into the channel—too much, perhaps—and the glow brightened until it hummed audibly.
The goblin staggered, half-conscious, eyes filled with confusion and hatred.
Jinwoo moved.
The ground shattered beneath his feet as he dashed forward. Dust and debris were swept away in the surge of his momentum.
The world blurred. His fist—radiant, focused, deadly—drove into the goblin's chest with all the kinetic force his body could muster.
There was a sound like cracking stone.
Then silence.
The goblin froze—its body trembling—before a gaping hole tore through its chest. Blood gushed out, staining the ground in steaming crimson. The light in its eyes flickered, then died.
The creature fell backward, hitting the ground with a dull thud that reverberated through the air.
Jinwoo stood there, panting lightly, the faint remnants of mana still flickering around his hands. He looked down at the corpse, brow slightly furrowed.
"Huh… that's it?" he muttered, voice filled with a strange mix of surprise and disappointment. "I think it was only E-rank."
He wiped the sweat from his brow, then crouched near the fallen goblin. Its body was still warm, steam rising from the wound in its chest. Using Precision Lift, he extracted the essence stone—larger than the others, gleaming with deep emerald light. It hovered for a moment before he stored it away.
Then, the air began to shift again.
A faint hum—like the whisper of a system awakening.
Before him, space distorted, rippling like disturbed water.
A portal blossomed into existence—a vertical pool of light, swirling faintly with shades of blue and black.
He stared at it for a long moment.
"Back already, huh?"
Without another word, he stepped into it.
The cold touch of teleportation washed over him—pressure, disorientation, weightlessness.
Then, stillness.
When he opened his eyes, the sound of machines greeted him.
The forest was gone. The stench of blood replaced by antiseptic air. White ceiling tiles, flickering light. A heartbeat monitor echoed softly in the quiet room.
He was back.
The hospital room felt unnaturally small after the vastness of that forest, the stillness almost suffocating.
Then, the notifications appeared before him—lines of blue light.
[You have completed the Daily Quest: Survive.]
[Rewards are available.]
[You have completed the Hidden Quest: Defeat all enemies.]
[You will be given extra rewards.]
Jinwoo stood there, motionless, staring at the floating words.
The world outside the screen was silent. But inside, something had changed.
He could feel it—the echo of battle, the thrum of mana still pulsing beneath his skin, the strange satisfaction of surviving a place that had wanted him dead.
And beneath all of that, a quiet question rose in his mind, one that lingered like a whisper in the dark:
How far does this power go?
The lights flickered once, then steadied.
He looked down at his hands—clean now, but he could still feel the phantom warmth of blood.
His lips curled into the faintest, most unsettling smile.
The trials had only just begun.