How hard can it be to find one ugly-ass monster?

Yeah, that's what I thought.

An hour ago.

But, as always, my already non-existent luck decided to punch me in the face and run off laughing like the creepy bastard it was.

It's been over an hour since I made my plan, stepped out of that cave with Bearlo at my side, and started hunting down the freaky, skull-headed goat-baby thing that's supposed to eat me into the second layer.

And so far?

Nothing.

Not a whisper, a wail or even a cursed scent trail to follow.

That doesn't mean I haven't run into monsters.

Oh no.

This forest has plenty of those.

It's been throwing beasts at us like it's on some kind of eldritch clearance sale. Each one uglier than the last, as if they're competing in some "Who Can Make Rael Throw Up First" contest.

But none of them were the monster I needed to find.

Just your standard murder-caterpillars with standing on grotesque fleshy limbs, some lizard-like animal with three legs and, oh, there was even one particularly persistent blue slime that tried to fuse with my boot like it was auditioning for friendship.

We handled them. Mostly Bearlo, honestly.

I didn't even move for most of it.

He fought.

He slaughtered.

I just stood there with my arms crossed, waiting for some wailing, skull-faced bastard to pop out and say, "Hey, wanna get digested?"

But nope.

Nada.

Not even a scream in the distance.

Just then, I picked up a small movement.

Bearlo quickly got into stance standing in front of me.

I looked towards the direction, only to see a handsome boy, definitely not more than me, walk out of a bush.

His face looked too delicate and pale.

His red hair, wild and vibrant, looked like it belonged to someone entirely different—completely contradicting the timid, half-crushed energy leaking off him in waves.

And his green eyes shook. Not just in fear, but in the kind of fragile way that said he had already imagined this moment a thousand times and each one ended with him dying horribly.

A human?

Or a demon?

It was hard to tell.

Demons didn't really look much different from humans. The only real giveaway was their blood, which was grey, for some reason.

He walked toward us, hands raised in the universal 'please-don't-turn-me-into-paste' gesture.

"P-please don't kill me," he stammered. "I am injured. There is a big goat monster hunting people."

Now that made my ears perk up.

Goat monster?

Yeah. That had to be it.

Bearlo didn't move. His crimson eyes flicked to me, silent and waiting for my command.

But before I could say a single word—

YANK.

My cloak pulled me down with sudden, violent force like an overprotective bodyguard having a panic attack.

"What the—?"

Swish—THUNK.

An arrow tore through the air where my head had been a split second ago and embedded itself in the tree ahead.

Tsk.

The first people I meet in this forest… and they want to kill me.

In the first place, why are they even doing that? Not like they're gonna get some grand reward for thinning out the crowd.

Then again, this is the kind of forest where paranoia grows on trees.

But still…

They tried to kill me.

Which means, surely, they were ready for whatever comes next.

Right?

"Bearlo," I said, tone flat, "break both his legs and arms. I'll deal with the archer."

The boy's eyes widened, his fake panic flickering into real terror.

A pity.

I might've actually listened if he hadn't tried to ambush me with a damn support sniper.

But now?

Now it's personal.

I activated [Ember Sense], and the world shifted.

Warm outlines flared to life in my vision.

There.

I saw a faint silhouette.

A few meters off, a boy was tucked between two trees—crouched and already nocking the next arrow.

I could practically smell the panic off the guy.

I started walking.

Calmly and casually.

My cloak fluttered behind me, as if it too knew what time it was.

Another arrow hissed through the air toward my head—

I saw it and moved.

Just a tilt of my head and the arrow sliced the air beside my cheek, close enough to kiss.

As I walked closer, I saw the guy behind the bow panicking hard.

His fingers fumbled, knocking arrows one after another, firing frantically.

But with my [Ember Sense], I literally saw those arrows in slow motion.

I mean, those arrows were physical ones, from a weak F-ranker who hadn't even learned how to enhance them with mana.

If he had any clue how to coat those arrows with mana, this might've been… slightly inconvenient.

… but alas those fools had to mess with me with such meager strength.

As I closed the distance, he cracked and spun on his heel and bolted.

Abandoning his friend without a second thought.

I sighed.

Obviously, I had no intention of letting him do that.

With a burst of my mana pushing me forward, I vanished and appeared straight in front of him.

My knee slammed into his gut.

A dull thud and the boy collapsed to his knees, coughing blood.

Red blood.

Ah. So, humans.

"Why were you trying to kill me?" I asked, my voice calm but a smile curling on my face.

He whimpered. "P-please spare me… please… it was that guy—Lucien!"

"He—he forced me to do this…"

Ah.

So we've entered the betrayal speedrun phase.

Unfortunately for him, I was a human as well.

A human with useless emotions.

And apparently rage was one of the stronger ones.

That arrow—the one this coward fired at the beginning would have killed me, if not for my cloak helping me at the perfect moment.

And now he was trying to sell me a sob story?

Pathetic.

I channelled mana into my foot and without a word, brought it down on his right arm.

CRACK!

The sound echoed through the trees, sharp and raw.

"Arghhhhhhh"

He screamed, folding in on himself like a broken puppet.

I didn't blink.

I didn't even look away.

"That's for the arrow," I said softly.

And I wasn't done.

I shifted slightly, my boot pressing down on his trembling knee.

Mana surged again.

CRACK.

"That's for lying."

The left arm came next.

CRACK.

"And that," I said slowly as he whimpered beneath me, "is just because I don't like cowards."

His screams dulled into low, broken sobs.

Just then, Bearlo bought the red-head bastard on his shoulder.

His condition looked no better than his partner.

All four limbs of the redhead were visibly bent in the wrong directions.

"Please spare me…" He begged.

—

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