Now that he had gathered a hefty amount of Sigils, the system currency, he could finally purchase some skills. Excitement bubbled in his chest as he opened the Skill Store.
"Oh! New skills?"
Fresh options had appeared, likely unlocked after his last battle. He scrolled through the list, considering his next purchase—
And then—
A sudden chill ran down his spine.
A sharp, cold sensation bloomed across his chest, almost like a breeze slicing through his skin.
Then—
A flash of red.
His HP plummeted.
A chunk of his health vanished in an instant, as if something had slashed through his body.
"What the—?!"
Before he could react, it happened again. Another devastating blow. His HP bar drained rapidly.
Panic surged through him. He had just recovered using the Recovery Potion—how was he already on the verge of death?!
His heart pounded in his chest. He couldn't sense anything—no movement, no enemy in sight. Yet something was killing him.
Standing still was a death sentence.
[Dash]
He activated the skill instantly, propelling himself forward at high speed. He had no idea where he was running, but staying in one place meant getting slaughtered.
And then—
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw it.
A blur.
A flicker of something moving unnaturally fast.
A shadow darting along the cave walls.
A spider.
It was gone the next instant.
He skidded to a halt, turning sharply, his eyes scanning the area. Nothing. Just the damp cavern, the faintly glowing moss, and the eerie silence.
"What the fuck is going on?"
This was different from anything he had encountered so far. The enemy was attacking, but he couldn't see it. He couldn't sense it. He couldn't even tell how it was cutting him.
A cold realization crawled up his spine.
"This thing… it's too fast for me to see."
He forced himself to calm down. Panicking wouldn't help. He needed to analyze.
As he ran, he examined his own body carefully—
Then, he saw it.
A thin, almost invisible slash ran across his chest, from his shoulder to his waist.
A clean, surgical cut.
His eyes widened.
"That's a blade wound… but from where?!"
The slash was precise—no ragged tearing, no signs of fangs or claws. This wasn't just an attack.
This was assassination.
[Stealth]
He activated his skill, hoping to mask his presence. If this thing was hunting him, he needed to vanish.
For a moment, there was silence.
Then—
Another HP drop.
His health dropped again, despite being in stealth.
This time, a second slash appeared across his chest, forming an X.
His mind went blank.
"IT CAN DETECT ME EVEN IN STEALTH?!"
That was impossible. Monsters had trouble tracking him when he used Stealth. Even the Taratects struggled. But this thing had attacked him without hesitation.
It was faster.
It was stronger.
And it could see through his Stealth.
"This is bad… SUPER BAD!"
He had fought fast enemies before.
He had fought strong enemies before.
But never both at once.
This wasn't a brute-force battle.
This was a hunt.
He grabbed a Recovery Potion, chugging it down as he zig-zagged through the cavern, moving erratically to avoid any predictable patterns.
Then—
Pain shot through his leg.
His body collapsed forward.
SLAM!
His face hit the dirt.
"What?! No—NO!!"
He tried to get up, but his leg wasn't moving.
A sharp slash was cut across his ankle—so clean, so precise that he hadn't even felt it until now. His foot refused to respond.
Despair gripped his heart.
His HP was dropping.
His mobility was gone.
And worst of all—
He still hadn't even seen his enemy properly.
For the first time, he realized.
This wasn't just a monster.
This was a predator.
A hunter.
A natural killer.
And then—
A sound.
Not just any sound.
The familiar clicking of spider legs.
But different.
Smoother.
Lighter.
Deadlier.
A soft chittering, like a blade being drawn from its sheath.
His breath caught in his throat.
Slowly, he lifted his gaze.
And there it was.
It wasn't hanging from the ceiling with thread.
It was standing on it.
Inverted, its eight legs clung to the ceiling with unnatural ease, moving with silent grace. Its obsidian-black carapace shimmered, polished like a finely crafted dagger.
Its legs were razor-thin, almost like blades themselves.
And its front legs—
They weren't legs.
They were scythes.
Its multiple red eyes gleamed with intelligence.
It was watching him.
Not like a mindless monster.
Not like a beast.
But like a hunter who had already won.