Elliot limped home just before dawn.
Every step sent pain screaming up his legs, and by the time he reached his flat, his body felt like it had been assembled wrong. He collapsed onto the mattress without even taking his shoes off.
"System," he muttered into the darkness. "I'm guessing I don't heal like normal hunters."
Snowflakes drifted lazily above his chest.
[Correct.]
[Santa System Does Not Reward Recklessness.]
[Recovery Is Earned.]
"…of course it is."
He closed his eyes.
The world faded...
When Elliot woke again, it wasn't to morning light.
It was to stone.
Cold. Damp. Familiar.
He shot upright, heart hammering.
The dungeon corridor stretched before him, glowing faintly with green moss. His wounds still ached—but less. Manageable.
[Forced Entry: Training Instance]
[Purpose: System Familiarization]
"You kidnapped me into a dungeon?" Elliot hissed.
HO. HO. HO.
[You Walked In Last Time.]
"That doesn't make it better!"
A soft chime echoed.
[Dungeon Rank: F]
[Threat Level: Appropriate]
[Nice/Naughty Evaluation: Active]
Elliot stood slowly, testing his body. He wasn't strong—but he wasn't falling apart either.
"Okay," he whispered. "I can do this."
Something moved ahead.
A goblin stepped into view—smaller than the one that nearly killed him. Its grip on its club was sloppy. Nervous.
[Goblin – Level 1]
[Moral Status: Neutral]
Elliot blinked.
"Neutral?"
The goblin snarled and rushed him.
Elliot reacted on instinct, diving to the side. The club smashed into stone where his head had been a second earlier. He scrambled to his feet, heart racing.
It's faster than me.
But it wasn't smarter.
"Come on," Elliot muttered, baiting it.
The goblin lunged again—and overcommitted. Elliot slammed his shoulder into it, both of them tumbling to the ground. He grabbed a loose rock and smashed it down.
Once.
Twice.
The goblin went still.
Elliot staggered back, breathing hard.
No fireworks.
No fanfare.
Just a soft chime.
[Target Eliminated.]
[Moral Evaluation Complete.]
A small box appeared in the air.
Grey wrapping. Plain ribbon.
[Neutral Gift Generated.]
The box opened on its own.
[Reward: Minor Vitality Restoration]
Warmth flowed through Elliot's bruises. The pain dulled further.
"Oh," he breathed. "That's… actually useful."
Another notification followed.
[Cheer Gained: +3]
[Cheer: 30 / 100]
"That's it?"
[You Did Not Act Kindly.]
[You Did Not Act Cruelly.]
[Balance Was Maintained.]
Elliot rubbed his face. "So if I just kill things, I crawl forward."
The dungeon rumbled softly.
[Correct.]
He laughed, weak and incredulous.
"So this system really wants me to be a decent person."
No answer.
Deeper in the dungeon, Elliot encountered two more goblins.
This time, one tripped the other in its rush to attack him.
They argued. Shoved. Screeched.
Elliot hesitated.
They're monsters, he reminded himself.
But…
He waited until one attacked first.
The fight was messy, clumsy, exhausting—but when it ended, Elliot was still standing.
[Nice Act Detected.]
[Restraint Acknowledged.]
Two gifts appeared.
[Gift: Sturdy Gloves (Common)]
[Gift: Basic Footwork Knowledge]
Information flooded his mind—how to shift weight, how to brace, how to fall without breaking something important.
Elliot stared at his hands.
"I didn't even know I needed this."
[Santa Knows.]
For the first time, the voice sounded… gentle.
Elliot sat on a fallen stone slab and flexed his fingers.
The sturdy gloves rested in his lap—simple brown leather, reinforced at the knuckles and palms with faint silver stitching. They didn't look magical. No glow. No aura.
They looked… reliable.
"Alright," he murmured. "Let's see what you do."
The moment he slid them on, the leather tightened perfectly around his hands, warming as if it had been waiting for him. A faint pulse ran up his arms—not strength exactly, but support. His grip felt steadier. His hands stopped trembling.
Snow drifted briefly, then vanished.
[Equipment Equipped: Sturdy Gloves (Common)]
[Item Quality: Common (Santa-Adjusted)]
[Effect: +1 Strength | +1 Endurance]
[Bonus: Reduced Hand Fatigue]
Elliot blinked.
"That's… small," he said slowly.
Then he clenched his fist.
The ache in his knuckles from earlier fights was noticeably duller. When he pressed his palm against the stone, it didn't sting the way it should have.
"…but I'll take it."
"Status," he said.
The interface unfolded smoothly now, no flicker, no hesitation.
[Santa System — Status Page]
Name: Elliot Crane
Title: Unregistered Santa
Level: 3
Cheer: 30 / 100
Spirit: 22
Joy: 2
Authority: 1
Core Attributes:
Strength: 7 (+1)
Agility: 7
Endurance: 6 (+1)
Mana: 0
Perception: 6
Equipment:
Dagger (Common, Equipped)
Sturdy Gloves (Common, Equipped)
Active Effects:
Reduced Hand Fatigue
Moral Evaluation (Passive)
Footwork Knowledge (Basic)
Unlocked Functions:
Naughty List (Local)
Gift Distribution (Basic)
Coal Authorization (Limited)
Elliot stared at the numbers longer than he expected.
Level three.
I actually leveled.
Not explosively. Not dramatically. But honestly.
"I'm still weak," he said quietly.
[Weak Does Not Mean Worthless.]
For some reason, that stuck.
He stood, rolling his shoulders, feeling the subtle difference in balance. Not enough to make him confident—but enough to make him willing.
That was when the dungeon changed.
The air grew colder. Not damp-cold like before, but sharp—clean, like winter nights just before snowfall. The moss lining the walls dimmed, retreating as if afraid.
Elliot took a cautious step forward.
Crunch.
Bones.
He froze.
The corridor widened ahead, opening into a massive cavern. The ceiling arched high above, cracked and sagging, with chunks of stone embedded like old scars. The floor was littered with shattered weapons, cracked shields, and goblin corpses crushed so thoroughly they barely resembled bodies.
At the far end of the room stood a massive stone door—split down the middle by something that had forced its way out.
Dark stains streaked the floor leading inward.
Elliot's throat went dry.
"This is…" he whispered.
[Boss Room Identified.]
A low, guttural breath echoed from within.
Something shifted in the shadows beyond the broken door.
[Threat Level: High for Current Authority.]
[Retreat Option: Available.]
Elliot looked down at his gloved hands.
They were steady.
He swallowed, then took a step forward.
"…No," he said. "If I run now, I'll always run."
Snow began to fall—slow, deliberate flakes drifting past his face as he crossed the threshold into the boss room.
And ahead of him, something naughty waited.