The trek back to the Silvas Guild caravan was a slow, grueling march for Klynn and Regra, but for Aris, it was an observation deck.
Every few steps, his vision flickered with lines of code that shouldn't be there. He saw the mana veins of the trees, the spawn-timers of the local insects, and the structural weaknesses in Klynn's heavy iron greaves.
"Keep your eyes sharp, Aris," Klynn whispered, his hand resting on the hilt of his rusted sword. "This sector is crawling with Shadow Wolves. They track the scent of fear."
"I'm watching," Aris replied calmly.
In reality, he was watching a translucent red box hovering over a thicket of thorns thirty yards to their left.
[ MOB: SHADOW WOLF (ELITE) ]
[ LEVEL: 14 ]
[ HP: 450/450 ]
[ WEAKNESS: CERVICAL VERTEBRAE / MANA CORE ]
Klynn hadn't noticed it. Regra hadn't noticed it. If that thing jumped them, Klynn's Level 24 defense would hold, but the rest of the squishy recruits back at the caravan would be shredded.
Aris slowed his pace, falling a few steps behind. He reached down and picked up a jagged piece of flint from the forest floor. It was a trash-tier item, but in the hands of a developer, everything was a tool.
Mana Circuit: Overclock, Aris thought.
He didn't have a spellbook. He didn't have a staff. What he had was a direct connection to the world's raw data. He funneled a tiny, concentrated stream of mana into the flint. To a normal observer, the stone just looked a bit darker. To Aris, it was vibrating with the force of a kinetic slug.
The Shadow Wolf tensed, its muscles coiling for a lunging strike at Klynn's exposed neck.
Aris flicked his wrist.
The flint didn't fly like a thrown stone; it vanished in a blur of gray motion. There was no loud bang, only a wet *thwack* as the stone bypassed the wolf's fur and cranium, striking the exact pixel-point of its Mana Core.
[ CRITICAL HIT! ]
[ TARGET DELETED ]
[ EXP GAINED: 1,200 (x∞ MULTIPLIER APPLIED) ]
[ LEVEL UP! ]
[ LEVEL UP! ]
[ LEVEL UP! ]
The notifications flooded his Air Screen, stacking until they turned into a blur of light.
"Did you hear something?" Regra asked, stopping to look toward the thicket.
Klynn squinted at the shadows. "Just the wind, probably. Come on, we're almost at the clearing."
Aris wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. His body felt lighter, stronger. He glanced at his screen.
[ USER: ARIS VERATIS ]
[ LEVEL: 12 ]
In one throw, he had surpassed his "official" ranking. And he hadn't even reached the caravan yet.
As they broke through the tree line, the Silvas Guild camp came into view. Three ragged wagons and a handful of exhausted-looking teenagers sat around a dying fire. Among them stood a tall, muscular man with a shield twice the size of his torso.
"Duriz!" Klynn called out. "We found the kid!"
Duriz Temas looked up, a grin breaking through his bushy beard. "About time! Mera was starting to bet on how long it would take for a Golem to turn him into a pancake."
A girl with short, messy hair and a notched dagger on her belt—Mera Griph—scoffed. "I only bet five credits. He looks like he's seen a ghost."
Aris walked into the center of the camp, ignoring the teasing. He could see their levels. Duriz was 26. Mera was 15. They were all stuck in the "Standard" progression loop.
"I'm not a ghost," Aris said, sitting down by the fire. "Just hungry."
As he took a piece of dried meat from Regra, he noticed a strange icon blinking at the edge of his map. It wasn't a mob. It was a player signature.
It was miles away, deep in a Restricted Zone, and it was moving at a speed that shouldn't be possible for anyone in this era.
The signature was red.
Enma, Aris thought, his grip tightening on the meat. "You're already out there, aren't you?"