The forest was alive with a quiet hum of life, the rustling of leaves blending seamlessly with the occasional chirp of birds greeting the morning. Dappled sunlight filtered through the dense canopy above, casting shifting patterns of light and shadow across the forest floor. A faint mist clung to the undergrowth, remnants of the cool night air slowly dissipating as the warmth of the rising sun spread through the trees. The scent of damp earth and pine filled the air, mingling with the distant freshness of flowing water—an ever-present reminder of the brook that meandered somewhere ahead, hidden behind thick foliage.

  Jack moved through the underbrush with ease, his footsteps nearly silent despite the twigs and leaves carpeting the ground. He had spent enough time in the wilds to know how to minimize sound, how to distribute his weight just right to avoid the telltale snap of a branch or the rustling of disturbed leaves. His movements were fluid, instinctive, his eyes scanning every detail of his surroundings. His Tracking Skill guided him, sharpening his awareness to subtle signs—faint impressions in the dirt, disturbed patches of moss, the delicate bend of a blade of grass that suggested a creature had passed through recently.

  He exhaled softly, keeping his breathing steady. The wilderness was not just a place of solitude and survival for him—it was a battlefield, a hunting ground, a space where skill determined life and death. The thought was a distant one, an understanding buried beneath his immediate focus. Right now, he was looking for small game, something quick and alert, something that would test the speed and precision he had honed over time.

  It didn’t take long before he spotted his quarry. Two rabbits, crouched low beneath a bush, their noses twitching as they nibbled

  cautiously at the base of a shrub, their long ears twitching at every subtle noise in the forest. Jack exhaled slowly, keeping his body loose, his instincts sharpening as he prepared to strike.

  Before his journey into this life, he would have considered catching a rabbit with his bare hands an impossible feat. But now? Now, he was fast. Faster than any human had a right to be. His Strength and Speed had climbed beyond normal limits, honed through battles, dungeons, and the harsh necessity of survival.

  The moment he moved, it was over. In a blur of motion, he lunged, his hands closing around the first rabbit before it could even process its fate. A sharp twist of his wrist, and it went limp in his grasp. The second rabbit barely had time to react before he pounced again, closing the distance in a fraction of a second. Another clean break. Two kills. Efficient. Methodical.

  Jack stood up, holding the limp bodies of the rabbits, his mind lingering on how strangely effortless it had been. He had fought monsters, spellcasters, and warriors, but there was something uniquely odd about how easily he could overpower something as naturally swift and skittish as a rabbit. These creatures were meant to be quick, built for escaping predators, yet to him, they might as well have been standing still. They must have been much lower level than him. Even though they were presumably specced in Agility, to him they might as well have been moving at a snails pace.

  His fingers traced over the soft fur as he crouched near a fallen log. He pulled his tusk knife from his pouch, the tool glinting in the dappled morning light. He made the first incision, peeling back the hide with smooth, careful motions. He had done this before, yet today, his mind was elsewhere.

  How much of this was him? How much was just numbers on a Status screen dictating his reality?

  The thought had lurked at the back of his mind for some time now. He had grown stronger, faster, more resilient than he ever thought possible. But it was easy to forget the scale of that change until moments like these—when he reduced creatures built for speed into nothing more than easy prey. What did that say about him? What did that say about the people who were weaker than him?

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  He shook the thoughts off. He had more practical matters to deal with. The fresh pelt came free in his hands, and he set it aside, moving on to the second rabbit. His knife worked with fluid efficiency, separating fur from flesh in a matter of moments. He let out a slow breath, shaking off the lingering unease. It didn’t matter right now. Food was food. He had a hungry stomach to fill.

  With both rabbits skinned and gutted, he cleaned his blade against the grass before standing, casting one last glance at the surrounding woods. The quiet remained undisturbed, the world moving as it always did, uncaring of his thoughts.

  After gathering some wood, and using a bit of magic to start a fire, he brought his catch over to the nearby brook where he rinsed the rabbits thoroughly with clean water to remove any remaining fur or blood.

  After letting them air dry for a bit, he secured them over the fire with a sturdy stick. By then, the fire had died down to embers. He remembered eating rabbits with his father and uncle back in his old life when they went on hunting trips. He remembered his uncle explaining that embers were what you should use for cooking rabbits, rather than a full on fire, so as to avoid burning the meat.

  He rotated the spit regularly over the next hour and then enjoyed a meal of roasted rabbit with some foraged berries. The meat was a bit gamey but he was hungry enough that it didn’t matter much to him.

  Once he finished breakfast, he spent some time reading the book he had gotten from the Dungeon. He needed to level up his neglected Profession and more importantly, he needed better armor. His current set of hide armor was in ruins from all the fighting he had done recently and furthermore it was starting to stink.

  He found the section on armor and quickly skipped over the section on metal armor. He had no raw metal nor any way to forge it if he had. The section on leather armor was interesting though. Apparently, there were different ways of preparing the hides of different types of magical beasts. Of course, he first needed the actual hide before he could actually do anything.

  Having resolved to test out the methods in the book, Jack closed it and secured it back in his pouch. The next step was finding something worth hunting. He needed a beast with a strong, durable hide—something that could be turned into armor tough enough to last.

  Jack stood, brushing dirt from his hands, and stretched his limbs before setting off deeper into the forest. His Tracking Skill activated instinctively, sharpening his awareness to the subtle signs left behind by passing creatures. Broken twigs, disturbed patches of moss, and faint indentations in the damp earth painted a trail for him to follow. He made a mental note to thank Goldeyes for helping him gain the useful Skill.

  At first, he only picked up traces of smaller game—deer, foxes, perhaps even a wild boar. None of them were quite what he was looking for. He needed something tougher. Something stronger.

  Then, as he ventured further, he spotted a set of tracks that made him pause. They were broad, deep, and unmistakably belonging to a large beast. Clawed, but not feline. The impressions in the earth suggested something incredibly heavy, yet the spacing between them told him the creature was capable of moving with surprising speed. The depth of the marks hinted at sheer strength, an animal that carried an immense amount of weight yet moved with purpose.

  Jack crouched beside the tracks, brushing his fingers over the edges. They weren’t fresh, but they weren’t more than a few hours old either. A beast of this size wouldn’t be too hard to track, especially if it had a lair nearby.

  A deep scratch along the bark of a nearby tree confirmed his suspicion. Whatever he was following had carved massive gouges into the wood, the marks fresh enough that sap still oozed from them.

  A bear? That seemed the most likely answer, but he’d never seen a normal bear with claws quite like this. And if it was a bear, it likely wasn’t just any ordinary one. He had seen a number of magical beasts since coming to this forest. Who knew what kind of creature he was really tracking?

  Jack exhaled slowly, his grip tightening on his spear as a flicker of anticipation ran through him. If this thing had a thick enough hide, it would be perfect for crafting armor. And if it was strong, fast, and dangerous?

  All the better.

  He pressed forward, following the trail with sharp eyes, his senses heightened as the forest around him grew quieter. Whatever he was tracking was close. He could feel it.

  He just had to find it.