Chapter 8: Hunted, Yet Hunter

  The moment Jisoo moved, the Guardian reacted.

  A guttural growl reverberated through the air, deep and primal. It was the kind of sound that didn’t just echo—it crawled beneath the skin, triggering instincts long buried by civilization. The sheer weight of its presence sent a shiver down Jisoo’s spine, and for the first time in this new life, he felt it.

  The raw, crushing intent of a predator.

  From the abyss beyond the corridor, something unfathomably large stirred. It was not a simple emergence, but a shifting of the entire atmosphere—as if the very space around it resisted its presence. A towering, hulking form materialized, its movements slow, deliberate. Not out of hesitation, but out of confidence—like a predator that had cornered its prey and was savoring the inevitable.

  Then, in a heartbeat, it moved.

  Not stomped. Not lumbered. Moved.

  Jisoo barely had time to process it before the Guardian closed half the distance in an instant. Its massive, clawed feet crashed against the stone floor, sending cracks through the ancient structure. It wasn’t just fast—it was unnervingly precise, its predatory gaze locked onto him like a beast that had hunted thousands before.

  His system chimed in.

  [Hunt Initiated – The Guardian has locked onto you.]

  But unlike other systems that would warn him to flee, his system adjusted to his intent.

  “Ah, so we’re fighting instead? Very well. Let’s see if you can keep up.”

  Jisoo gritted his teeth. No hesitation. This was what he wanted.

  He dashed sideways, using the scattered ruins as cover. The Guardian’s pursuit didn’t slow in the slightest. It was testing him—not charging recklessly, but adapting, cutting off his angles, forcing him into an inevitable confrontation.

  Jisoo kicked off the ground, flipping over a broken pillar just as a massive clawed hand tore through the air where he’d been moments ago. The sheer force alone sent a violent gust forward, toppling loose rubble.

  That’s way faster than I remember.

  He had known this trial was deceptive. He had known that most players had underestimated the Guardian’s speed and paid the price. But knowing wasn’t the same as experiencing it firsthand.

  His feet barely touched the ground before the Guardian was already moving again. The next attack wasn’t a wild swipe—it was a calculated maneuver. It learned.

  Jisoo barely twisted his body in time as a massive, clawed arm swept across the battlefield, aiming to slam him into the corridor wall. He ducked, the wind pressure nearly sending him off balance. No wasted movements. It’s optimizing its approach.

  His system reacted with amusement.

  “You do realize you’re the prey here, right?”

  Jisoo ignored it, mind racing. He couldn’t afford to play by the Guardian’s rules. If he kept reacting, if he stayed on the defensive, he would be cornered. And cornered prey never survived.

  He pivoted sharply, his body twisting mid-motion. With a precise grip, he slashed his blade upward—

  The first attack.

  His weapon connected. The blade bit into the Guardian’s thick, sinewy hide—

  And barely left a scratch.

  Jisoo’s stomach twisted.

  The Guardian didn’t even flinch.

  Then, it retaliated.

  A backhanded strike, almost casual. But Jisoo was too close, too exposed. Too slow.

  Pain erupted across his ribs as he was sent flying. The impact rattled his bones, the air in his lungs forced out as he crashed into a crumbling stone column. The world spun violently as debris rained around him.

  His vision flickered.

  Shit—

  Before he could even process the damage, the system’s voice cut through his disoriented thoughts.

  “Seems like someone’s getting too cocky.”

  For a brief second, something cold curled in his chest—doubt. Not the calculated fear of battle, but the deeper, more instinctive kind. The kind that whispered, What if I can’t win this? He had never considered failure before. Now, with his ribs aching and the Guardian looming over him, the thought clawed at the edges of his mind.

  His breath came ragged, his mind sharpening past the pain. This wasn’t just a challenge—it was a brutal reminder.

  Just because he knew what to do didn’t mean it would be easy.

  The Guardian gave him no time to recover. It lunged again, its massive form blurring with unnatural speed.

  Jisoo forced his body to move. He rolled just in time to avoid being flattened under its weight, the ground shattering upon impact. He needed a new strategy. He needed something.

  His system, ever the opportunist, chimed in again.

  “What’s wrong? I thought you wanted a fight?”

  Jisoo wiped the blood from his mouth, grinning despite himself.

  “I do.”

  He pushed forward.

  This wasn’t just about strength. He had known that before, but now he felt it.

  This wasn’t about overpowering the Guardian—it was about outlasting it.

  His body was struggling. His stats were good, but not invincible. But his mind? His experience? That was the only real weapon he had.

  He adjusted his stance, gripping his weapon tighter.

  If brute force wouldn’t work, then he’d have to find another way.

  The Guardian roared, charging again.

  Jisoo exhaled.

  And this time—

  He didn’t dodge.

  He moved with it.

  Jisoo staggered, his breath ragged as he pressed a hand against the fresh wound on his side. His fingers came away slick with blood. Not deep enough to be fatal, but enough to send a sharp warning through his nerves. The Guardian loomed before him, its towering frame casting a monstrous shadow under the dim glow of the Tower’s ambient light.

  The system’s voice chimed in, far too amused for his liking.

  ["Seems like someone is getting too cocky."]

  Jisoo clenched his jaw, forcing himself to straighten. "Not now," he muttered, gripping his weapon tighter. His body ached, muscles burning from the relentless onslaught. He had expected this to be difficult, but expectation and experience were entirely different beasts.

  The Guardian wasted no time. Its massive clawed hand slammed into the ground where he had just stood, sending cracks through the stone. The impact alone would have pulped an unprepared opponent.

  Jisoo barely managed to evade, rolling to the side, but the sudden movement made his vision blur for a second. His stamina was depleting fast. He had been fighting for what felt like an eternity, but the boss was still as relentless as ever.

  The system, ever the commentator, piped up again.

  ["Just because you know how to kill something doesn’t mean you’re strong enough to do it easily."]

  Jisoo let out a rough exhale. "Yeah, I’m getting that now."

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  His mind raced, calculating his next move. Running was still an option. He had already overperformed by surviving this long. But that hidden achievement dangled in his mind, an irresistible challenge. He wasn’t about to walk away empty-handed.

  The Guardian lunged again. Jisoo twisted his body, ducking under its wild swipe, but his footing slipped on the uneven stone. His body reacted on instinct, twisting mid-air to avoid a direct impact. Still, the Guardian’s tail clipped him, sending him skidding across the ground. His back hit a broken pillar with a force that rattled his bones.

  A groan escaped his lips, but he forced himself up. If he stayed down, he was dead.

  The system remained eerily silent now, as if waiting to see what he’d do next.

  Jisoo inhaled sharply, steadying his shaking limbs. His earlier strategy of outpacing the beast wasn’t working. He needed a new plan, one that involved more than just dodging and hoping to land a lucky strike.

  He eyed the environment. The ruins provided some cover, but not much. The Guardian was massive, but not slow. He needed a way to turn its strength against it.

  His grip on his weapon tightened. If he couldn’t overpower it, he would have to outthink it.

  As the Guardian prepared for another charge, Jisoo darted toward one of the larger fallen structures, positioning himself so that the beast would have to maneuver awkwardly to reach him. The moment it lunged, he shifted to the side at the last second.

  The Guardian crashed into the stone, momentarily stunned by the impact. Jisoo didn’t waste a second. He surged forward, blade flashing as he drove it into the exposed gap between its plated ribs. The creature howled, a deep, guttural sound that vibrated through the air.

  ["Finally thinking, are we?"]

  Jisoo ignored the system, pressing his advantage. He twisted the blade before yanking it free, dark ichor spraying across his arm. But before he could pull back, the Guardian retaliated, its massive arm slamming into him with enough force to send him flying once again.

  He hit the ground hard, coughing violently as pain flared through his ribs. His vision blurred for a moment, but he forced himself to move, rolling to his feet just as the beast advanced again.

  His stamina was running low. He couldn’t keep up this pace for much longer. If he wanted to finish this, he needed to act now.

  He took a deep breath, eyes locking onto the Guardian’s movements. He had one shot at this.

  Waiting for the perfect moment, Jisoo stood his ground, feigning exhaustion. The Guardian, sensing weakness, lunged at full force.

  At the last possible second, Jisoo sidestepped, spinning his body and driving his blade straight into the creature’s exposed neck.

  The Guardian choked—a wet, guttural sound as its own weight betrayed it. Its claws scraped desperately against the stone, carving deep trenches in the ground as it lurched forward. But there was no stopping the inevitable. The moment Jisoo twisted his blade, a shudder rippled through the beast’s frame. A final, deafening roar shattered the silence before it collapsed, sending a plume of dust spiraling into the air. And then—stillness.

  Silence.

  Then, the system’s voice broke it.

  ["Huh. You actually pulled it off. Color me surprised."]

  Jisoo let out a shaky breath, barely believing it himself. His body screamed in protest, but he remained standing, watching as the Guardian’s body dissolved into glowing particles, leaving behind a shimmering reward.

  He had done it.

  But as he stood there, catching his breath, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning.

  Jisoo’s breath came in ragged, uneven bursts as he stood over the remains of the Guardian. The metallic tang of blood mixed with the damp, stale air, the ground beneath him littered with fragments of stone and flesh. His arms felt like lead, his muscles screaming with exhaustion. Yet, beneath all the fatigue, all the pain—there was exhilaration.

  The system chimed—its presence always unnervingly calm, as if it had expected this outcome all along.

  [Congratulations. You have cleared Floor 5 under impossible conditions.]

  [Hidden Objective Completed – The Hunter Becomes the Hunted.]

  Jisoo’s legs wobbled before he forced himself upright. He didn’t need the system to tell him how absurd this was. No one was supposed to kill the Guardian at this stage. No one in his past life had done it. The sheer idea of fighting instead of running was so counterintuitive that challengers simply never considered it.

  But he had.

  And he had won.

  Despite himself, he chuckled breathlessly. Fighting the boss was actually faster than escaping. That was the most ridiculous part of it all. Normally, weaving through the labyrinthine corridors and avoiding the Guardian took an average of thirty to forty minutes, depending on how well someone managed their stamina. The Guardian’s speed forced people into detours, backtracking, moments of hiding in the shadows to avoid detection.

  Jisoo had cleared it in six minutes.

  By killing it outright.

  [New Record: Fastest Completion of Floor 5.]

  He would register this clear. That wasn’t necessarily a problem—many climbers had beaten challenges faster than others. But no one would expect a first-time Awakener to accomplish such a fast time this early on.

  A dull ache throbbed through his limbs as he registered the clear. His hands trembled slightly, muscles burning from the relentless exertion. Every deep breath came with a slight sting—a reminder that no matter how much knowledge he had, his body wasn’t invincible. Not yet. He forced himself upright, rolling his shoulders as if shaking off the weight of the battle. No time to show weakness. Not even to himself.

  The system, seemingly unimpressed by his accomplishment, gave an almost casual remark.

  [“Not bad. Risky, reckless, and entirely unnecessary—but not bad.”]

  Jisoo wiped the sweat off his forehead, grinning despite himself. “You almost sound worried.”

  [“Just amused. You’re speeding ahead, but let’s see how long you can keep it up.”]

  A faint pulse of light caught his attention—his rewards. The Guardian’s body, now dissolving into shimmering embers, left behind a collection of glowing items hovering in midair. He reached out, fingers brushing against the floating orbs.

  A golden shimmer flickered before him, the air vibrating as rewards materialized one by one.

  First, the notification appeared:

  [Rewards Acquired:]

  ? Crimson-Tier Mana Core – A rare and powerful energy source. Unheard of at this stage.

  ? Passive Skill: Predator’s Tenacity – Increases stamina recovery and pain resistance in prolonged combat.

  ? ??? (Unidentified Item) – A sealed object that requires further analysis.

  Jisoo’s eyes widened slightly. Crimson-tier. Not Green. Not Purple. Not even Gold. Crimson. Something so rare that veterans killed for a single one—and he had it on Floor 5. His fingers hovered over the glowing core for a second longer than necessary, a cold realization settling in.

  He wasn’t just ahead. He was breaking the very balance of progression.

  As he pocketed the core into his Tower inventory, he rolled his shoulders, trying to gauge the extent of his injuries. His ribs ached, his left arm was sluggish, and his stamina was dangerously low. The Predator’s Tenacity skill was a welcome reward—it would help shave down recovery times and allow him to keep pushing forward.

  The mystery item, however, was another story.

  It was small, wrapped in a translucent veil of shifting light. Unlike other loot, the system provided no immediate description. That in itself was rare. Jisoo frowned but knew better than to dwell on it now. He secured it within his inventory, deciding he’d inspect it later.

  The exit portal materialized before him, shimmering with that familiar golden hue. Once he stepped through, he’d be back at the Tower Hub.

  His system chimed one last time before he left.

  [“Try not to bleed all over the place when you collapse.”]

  Jisoo snorted. “You’re acting like I—”

  The moment he stepped into the light, his body gave out.

  The scent of aged stone and cold, recycled air filled his senses as he reappeared at the Hub. The Tower’s central space was eerily quiet, its structures looming in shadow, waiting for climbers to push further into its depths. Most Awakeners hadn’t even attempted their first trials yet—Jisoo was already breaking records.

  His legs nearly buckled the moment he fully materialized. He leaned against a pillar, sucking in a slow breath. He wasn’t in immediate danger anymore, but his body was still struggling to keep up with the demands he had placed on it.

  His system flickered to life.

  [“You finally noticing the consequences of your pace?”]

  Jisoo exhaled sharply. “Tch. I’ll live.”

  [“For now.”]

  With effort, he opened his status window, scanning over the rapid progression he had made. His levels had surged, and his stat distribution was far beyond what was normal for a first-time Awakener. But that only made one thing clear—his body was barely keeping up.

  I’m improving faster than my foundation can support.

  Pushing forward recklessly was unsustainable. Even with skills that boosted recovery, his body needed time to adjust.

  His eyes flicked toward the stairway leading to the next floor.

  For the first time since entering the Tower, he didn’t move toward it immediately.

  His system didn’t taunt him for hesitating. Instead, it simply hummed in satisfaction.

  [“Smart. Even a monster needs rest.”]

  Jisoo closed the interface with a sigh, forcing himself to move. The smart choice was obvious.

  For now—he needed to get back.

  The air shifted. The weight of the Tower lifted, and the silence of reality pressed in.

  The difference was stark.

  Inside the Tower, he had fought for his life. Outside, the world was still catching up. People were celebrating their first kills, struggling to understand their powers, while he had already stepped past what most wouldn’t even consider possible for weeks—if ever.

  He exhaled as he reached his room, feeling the adrenaline drain from his system. His body ached, exhaustion gnawing at the edges of his mind, but his thoughts raced.

  He was ahead. But was it enough?

  His fingers curled into a fist as he settled onto the bed, his mind already planning the next step.

  Jisoo collapsed onto his bed, exhaling deeply. The familiar scent of his room—the faint musk of books, the lingering trace of old incense—felt grounding. For hours, he had existed only in the Tower. Now, reality was creeping back in.

  His body was still wrecked. The battle had left him sore to the bone, his muscles screaming for rest. But his mind was racing. The Crimson Mana Core, the hidden achievement, the strange system prompt…

  The Tower had noticed him.

  No one was supposed to do what he had just done. No one was supposed to be this ahead of the curve.

  His instincts told him this wasn’t just about beating the Tower quickly. There was something more at play—something the system hadn’t accounted for. His very existence in this timeline was an anomaly.

  His system spoke, quieter this time.

  [“You’re making waves.”]

  Jisoo ran a hand over his face, his fingers tracing the edges of a bruise that was already fading. The battle, the blood, the impossibility of what he had done—it all felt distant now, slipping away as exhaustion took hold.

  He had done it. He had survived.

  And yet, as he lay in his room, staring at the ceiling, a strange thought crept into his mind.

  There was no one else ahead of him. No footsteps to follow. No guides. No rivals. Just him and the quiet hum of a system that seemed far too aware. A system that was changing alongside him.

  He exhaled slowly.

  Being first... meant being alone.

  For now, he would sleep.

  But tomorrow—he would push even further.