The sky had begun to take on an undefinable hue—that artificial twilight heralding the arrival of yet another moonless, starless night. Inside the small shelter of branches, Roy, Anne, David, and Julie sat in a circle, silent. The place was dim, barely lit by the faint light filtering through the gaps in their improvised roof. No one spoke, each of them stewing over the day's ordeals.
Julie, knees pulled tightly to her chest, kept her gaze fixed on the floor, still in shock from everything they had learned. She kept thinking about that strange wave of warmth she had felt when spending her points, then the sprint. She wondered if that small surge of strength would be enough in a world that seemed determined to crush her.
Anne, seated beside her, cast brief glances at Roy and David. She could almost hear their thoughts, their distress was so palpable. David, usually so self-assured, now wore a closed-off expression. Roy, for his part, was discreetly massaging his sore shoulders, trying to keep up appearances despite the exhaustion weighing him down.
Outside, a faint rustling reached them. All of them looked up, startled at the thought of a monster lurking near their shelter. But instead of a nocturnal predator, it was only the soft stir of leaves shifting slightly under Aaron's weight as he perched on a branch.
Aaron sat outside in silence, crouched on the hard wood, his dark eyes lost in the approaching night. He had understood that for these four fragile humans taking refuge in the cabin, their margin for growth would be painfully limited.
"The system doesn't distribute power—it amplifies it," he kept repeating to himself. He thought about the improvement David had been able to reach, while Roy and Anne, despite their willpower, had seen their efforts barely rewarded. Julie, she seemed somewhere in the middle—not strong enough to compete, not weak enough to fall immediately. And yet, if the monsters attacked… she might not make it.
Inside his mind, the second voice—what he had named Noraa—appeared, calm and relentless.
— You see it now, don't you? This system doesn't balance. It selects.
— 'And it does so without mercy, Aaron replied. Those who start with a disadvantage are doomed to watch it grow. It's like pouring water down a steep slope.'
— And what do you think that will create on a larger scale?
He straightened slightly, eyes lost in the void.
— 'Castes. Dominants and subordinates. Elites at the top… and the masses frozen at the bottom.'
Noraa continued, colder than ever:
— Women. The elderly. The frail… All those whose bodies aren't naturally sharp will be left behind.
Aaron nodded silently.
— 'And even if a woman or an old man tries… if they survive, each point invested will only raise a base that's too weak. Never fast enough to catch those already far ahead.'
— The system is creating worlds more and more apart. You're only level 6, and you could probably eliminate all four of them before they even touched you.
Aaron remained silent for a moment, thinking, before responding.
— 'We have an advantage. We got this information early. Can we use it to our benefit ?'
He could almost feel Noraa smiling in the silence of his mind.
— Yes. If we keep our lead. If we stay clear-headed. If we waste nothing.
— ' I'm not going to sacrifice myself for people who have no chance. I want to survive. And to do that, I have to understand the system better than anyone. '
— That's exactly what I wanted to hear.
Aaron took a slow breath. His gaze hardened.
— Then we observe. We learn. And we take everything we can, without looking back.
Noraa concluded in a soft voice:
— The weak will fade away. And we will keep moving forward.
Aaron said nothing. He felt no pride, no shame. Only cold clarity. He hadn't come to save the world.
He just didn't want to die in it.
Leaning on the branch, his spear resting across his legs, Aaron let his mind wander.
After a long while, inside the shelter, Roy slowly sat up. He got to his feet and stepped outside, his expression grave. He spotted Aaron above, silent as always. Roy hesitated to call out to him, afraid of interrupting a line of thought he knew was likely essential to the group's survival. Still, he felt the need to say a few words—if only to bridge the widening distance between them.
— "Aaron," he called softly.
The one-armed man barely turned his head, a flicker of lucidity in his eyes.
— "What?" he murmured, his voice hoarse from the silence he had kept for some time.
Roy hesitated, searching for the right words—something that wouldn't provoke his anger or disdain.
— "We're… all at our limit in there. Thank you for today. We just wanted to say we're relying on your… guidance for what's next. That's all."
Aaron didn't answer right away. He simply inclined his head slightly, as if to say he'd heard. Then he turned away, once again staring into the silent darkness. From inside the cabin, David, Anne, and Julie had sensed the brief exchange—torn between hope that Roy was forging some kind of connection, and fear that it would all be for nothing.
They counted on him. But he only counted on Noraa.
Now that his thoughts were clear, he wondered—amused—which of the four would die first.
And with that, Aaron allowed himself to drift into a half-sleep, ears sharpened for the slightest sound, the smallest hint of threat, while the cabin, just a little ways off, bathed in oppressive silence.
The world was now plunged in total darkness, with neither moon nor stars to light the scene. In the distance, all one could see was the motionless silhouette of identical trees, forming a wall of compact shadow. In the makeshift camp, Roy, Anne, David, and Julie finally slept, drained from the day's training and emotions.
Perched on his branch, Aaron slowly opened his eyes. His senses, honed by thirty days of unbroken vigilance, picked up every sound, every scent. The steady breathing of the four sleepers confirmed they were indeed in deep slumber.
With a careful movement, he shifted his weight on the branch, making sure not to let it creak. His single right arm, gripping the spear, kept his balance perfectly. He turned his head slightly, checking the surroundings—no suspicious rustling, no unnatural owl calls that might signal the approach of a nocturnal predator.
Then he leapt into the darkness, noiseless, his body merging almost seamlessly with the black scenery. The leaves barely stirred in his passage—a testament to his mastery of silence. He moved toward the edge of the forest, where the darkness thickened like solid ink.
Aaron slipped deeper into the forest. He moved through the branches as if it were broad daylight.
Eventually, he reached his destination.
The clearing where the altar stood.
In the stillness of the night, he placed his hand on the stone surface.
BODY: 6
MIND: 0
Points: 56,000
A brief smirk twisted his lips. Fifty-six thousand points. None of it surprised him anymore. The system's mechanics had become crystal clear since he'd begun exploiting them.
The more he survived, the more he killed, the more points he earned—and the greater the gap grew between him and ordinary mortals. In the altar's shadow, his one-armed silhouette looked like a ghost in the black night.
From his own experience, stat increases were constant. Each level added the same layer of power as the last.
He was currently level 6. He had reached that level on his second day in this world.
Until now, he had chosen to remain at BODY: 6—a deliberate decision made on that second day. At the time, he had discovered that the cost of "miraculous healing"—the function that could heal wounds or even regenerate limbs—increased proportionally with the BODY stat. Having already lost one arm, he knew how vital it could be to afford such repairs if another serious injury occurred. So it had been wiser not to go too far, too fast.
But tonight, he had decided to go much, much further.
"BODY: 6 was enough to hunt and survive with minimal risk," he thought with a mocking grin. "But not enough to become untouchable."
Excitement welled up in him—a rare feeling since this nightmare had begun. A part of him remained the child who couldn't wait to open presents, like Christmas morning. This treasure trove of 56,000 points was a golden opportunity to surpass level 6 by a long shot.
The only shadow on the horizon? The cost of healing would rise with each level. But he had saved enough points to secure himself. He convinced himself that if he pushed his BODY high enough in one go, he might never need healing again.
Who could even touch him anymore?
Menus scrolled in his mind, and he finally confirmed his decision. His imaginary finger navigated the internal interface:
-Assign 720 points: BODY → 7
-Assign 885 points: BODY → 8
-Assign 1070 points: BODY → 9
...
Aaron frowned, quickly calculating the total cost of each level. The numbers climbed higher and higher with each step. His heartbeat quickened. Soon, he would have spent nearly all of his 56,000 points on BODY—stacking level after level of the same powerful boost he'd felt before.
"Can I go up to BODY: 22, 23… or even higher?"
He did the math. Each level cost more than the last. But if he could go from 6 to 20 or 23, he'd become nearly untouchable in this forest. Maybe even the word "monster" would stop applying to him altogether.
Assign 6,245 points: BODY → 24
A light breeze stirred the grass around the altar. Aaron mentally hit "Confirm." A surge of adrenaline exploded through his body. A deep rumble, imperceptible to the outside world, resonated in his consciousness. His muscles tensed as if under pressure, and his breathing quickened. He thought he could feel the air tremble—but it was just his own heightened senses.
Let's go, he thought.
The world around him faded. Then, in waves, he felt the power surging into his body. Level 7: a new strength, just like the jump from level 5 to 6.Then level 8.Then 9...
At every stage, more vitality poured into his system. His right arm, his back, his legs—everything buzzed with a strength long overdue. Even his missing left arm began to tingle, ghostlike, as if his nervous system were reacting to the surge of energy.
He breathed deeply, aware of the threshold he had just crossed.
Then he opened his eyes again and looked at the altar:
BODY: 24
MIND: 0
Remaining points: 900
His heart pounded like it might burst—but it wasn't fear. It was the feeling of carrying a sharper, deadlier body. No emotion showed on his face, except for a faint, cold satisfaction.
He stood there, alone in the clearing that had already seen two mass slaughters. And for the first time in 30 days… he felt safe.
He raised his spear slightly, took a striking stance—And swung with all his might.
At that instant… a silent surge of unreal force burst into the air like an invisible lightning bolt. With no target to hit, Aaron's blow still generated a shockwave strong enough to ripple the nearby grass.
The ground vibrated beneath his feet, and a faint gust swept through the clearing. The trees nearby shivered, as if struck by wind. The tip of the spear had struck empty night, yet the raw power now coursing through Aaron left its mark on the world, even in absolute darkness.
He withdrew the spear and slowly raised it back to shoulder height, puzzled, yet outwardly calm.
— "So this… is what it is," he muttered, almost to himself.
Around him, silence returned at once, as if the forest had realigned itself, disturbed for only a second by that unnatural strike. The darkness remained—dense, impenetrable.
But Aaron was no longer the same.
He could still feel that energy climbing inside him, that certainty that nothing here could stand in his way anymore.
Lifting his chin, he let his gaze slide over the still trees.
— "They really have become insignificant," he murmured, thinking of the monsters that usually prowled these woods.
No one answered. There were no witnesses to this overwhelming display of force. Only him, the night, and the altar behind him—silent, unmoved.
Aaron dipped his head, satisfied, and turned away calmly. He no longer needed to train here.No longer needed to fear any predator lurking in the shadows.
He was now the predator of this forest.
His bare feet touched the grass without caution, breaking the habit he had kept for thirty days of moving silently through the trees.
For the first time since he began climbing through the canopy…Aaron returned to base by walking on the ground.
Like a human.
That night, Aaron had reached the theoretical peak of human power.