Helier climbed a tall tree and plucked a purple cube-shaped fruit, eyeing it with curiosity.

  “Square Plum. Sweet and sour taste. Edible. Slightly enhances recovery.” The system prompted.

  “Boosts recovery? So if I keep eating, it keeps stacking?” He took a bite. Juicy. Just as described—sour with a hint of sweetness.

  “Up to three. No real benefit after that,” the system replied. “Also, while you’re free to do as you please, I’m in charge of your diet.”

  “Eating well is important. Keep it diverse, aim for nutritional balance. At least twenty different colors of produce daily. I’ll keep an eye on it.”

  Helier nodded. No objections. Not even sure if he’s a picky eater—he was, after all, literally born yesterday. Didn’t lie to the reporter.

  He swallowed the plum and continued hunting for interesting things.

  Blue water lizards, green-striped triple snakes, bright red mushrooms—everything got tossed into the system’s backpack space, poisonous or not, dangerous or not. Catch first, ask later.

  The system wanted to object several times but stayed silent. Like a quiet maple leaf in the wind. Whatever—he hadn’t gotten hurt.

  In less than thirty minutes, the backpack was full. Looking at the mess of contents, a strange sense of achievement bubbled up inside. He kind of liked this whole exploring-and-collecting thing.

  Under the system’s guidance, he learned how to start a fire, process ingredients, cook a nutritious breakfast. Stats went up nicely. Even boiled some medicine in bamboo tubes—just in case.

  After eating, he resumed his adventure, following a stream deeper into the woods.

  Didn’t run into a single player. Peaceful.

  “Guess everyone else is off exploring too,” he thought.

  —

  Deep within the forest—

  The earth shook. Trees fell one after another.

  “AHH! We’re gonna die!” Five human players screamed, fleeing for their lives.

  Faces pale with fear. Gear scattered behind them, totally abandoned. Because if anyone slowed down even a little—

  Boom! Trees snapped as a giant black boar charged through. Nine feet tall. Name above its head: LV.1 in red.

  The player lagging behind—a reporter—heard the crash and ran even faster. Would’ve crawled if his legs gave out. Anything to keep moving.

  Hell, that was Level One?! What kind of stat balance was that? What was the Witch Association even doing? The game was supposed to help fight the black hole, not be one!

  Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

  Swearing in his head, he felt a chill run down his spine. Glanced back.

  Too late.

  The boar glowed green and shot forward like a cannonball. Its two gleaming tusks looked like twin death scythes.

  BOOM! The ground split. Dust everywhere.

  He blinked. Still alive?

  “RUN!” Teammates held up heavy shields, forming a wall just in time. Heroes in the moment, standing tall and shining bright.

  Moved to tears, the reporter vowed to write about this scene—if he survived.

  “I won’t abandon you! I’ll fight too!” he yelled, raising his shield.

  “You? Fight? Go find an attacker already!” the team leader snapped. They were a temporary squad, slapped together last minute. Mostly tanks. No damage dealers. What were the odds?

  Before anyone could speak again, the boar slammed forward and sent four people flying.

  The reporter didn’t hesitate. Bolted.

  “Hang in there! I’ll be back soon!”

  Sprinting through the trees, yelling for help. But no reply.

  Shouldn’t have picked such a quiet spawn point. Fewer players meant less competition—but also no reinforcements.

  Just when all hope seemed lost—a white figure dropped from the treetops, landing ahead.

  “No freaking way...” the reporter muttered, tripping and falling on his butt. Looked up.

  Hey, wasn’t this the kid from earlier?

  “H-Help...” he stammered, clutching his sore rear.

  Helier pulled out a bamboo tube filled with green potion, added a leaf of bluish-purple herb, then handed it over. “Drink. Healing potion.”

  “Thanks...” The reporter hesitated. Marketplace wasn’t even open yet. Where’d this come from? He made it himself?

  No time to overthink. Downed it in one gulp.

  Cool liquid flowed through him. Eyes widened. His legs—his butt—weren’t aching anymore?

  “You... are you a Bloom?” he asked.

  “A what?” Helier blinked.

  The reporter paused. He’s never heard of the six archetypes? “Uh... like, someone who specializes in healing and supporting teammates.”

  Helier thought for a moment. No idea. Parked the thought. “You good now?”

  “N-Not really! My team’s still fighting a monster!” the reporter explained, then froze. Wait. They needed a DPS, not a healer...

  “Got it.” Helier dashed off without hesitation, a gust of wind left in his wake.

  The reporter scratched his head and chased after. What choice did he have?

  Back at the battlefield—

  Helier was pummeling the boar barehanded. Huge chunks of its health bar vanished with every hit. Absolute domination.

  The reporter was stunned. So were the five teammates—reduced to background extras, totally useless.

  The leader finally spoke. “This... uh, this guy you brought. He’s human?”

  “P-Probably?” the reporter replied, leaning back slightly, forcing a smile. Totally misjudged this kid.

  Sweet little Bloom? More like a freakin’ Sword King—the most violent DPS class.

  Didn’t take long. The boar, battered and bruised, swayed and collapsed after one last punch to the skull.

  Crack!

  Skull split open. Health bar empty. Its body burst into dark smoke and faded.

  Loot dropped: a green crystal, a bag of silver coins, some boar meat, a pelt, and two tusks. All shimmering on the ground.

  Helier landed gracefully, eyes catching the glowing crystal. Picked it up—it was warm.

  Gathered the rest of the loot and walked up to the team.

  The leader instantly threw out an arm, pushing his teammates into a synchronized bow. “Thank you for saving us!”

  Helier flinched a little. “No need. The loot—”

  “All yours!” the leader cut in. No way they’d ask for a share. They’d barely done ten percent damage. The other ninety? All Helier.

  He tapped the maple leaf.

  The system sighed. Clearly, Helier felt awkward taking it all. A window popped up:

  [Give them the coins and boar pelt. Consider it a fee for reporting the beast.]

  Helier nodded, handed over the silver and pelt. “Info fee.”

  The leader looked up. Wanted to refuse, but saw the clarity in Helier’s eyes. Refusing would only insult him.

  “Thank you again.” He elbowed the guy next to him. All five bowed once more, completely sincere.

  Helier’s eyes lit up. That feeling again—achievement.

  He remembered the reporter’s question. A Bloom helps and heals the team...

  Looked over. “Yeah. A Bloom.”

  “Huh?” The reporter didn’t quite catch it.

  “I’m a Bloom,” Helier repeated, calm and sure.

  The five teammates sucked in a breath. What could they say? Nothing.

  Just nodded rapidly. If you say you’re a Bloom, then Bloom it is.