Location: Tutorial Dungeon – The Cave of Almost-Death
Time: Who even knows anymore?
Mood: Confused. Paranoid. Weirdly nostalgic.
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Carl landed with all the grace of a potato sack dropped from a third-story window.
His boots hit rock, his knee buckled, and he faceplanted into gravel.
"…Ow." He coughed, spit a pebble. "Okay. That's not ominous at all."
He groaned and pushed himself up, blinking away the dizziness—and then froze.
"…Wait. No. No way."
Because he knew this place. Knew it too well. That jagged rock on the left where he'd almost tripped during the fight. The claw marks gouged into the walls. The faint scorch on the ground where he'd nearly been skewered alive. This wasn't a random spawn point.
This was the cave.
The cave where he'd fought the Duskfang Panther. The cave where he'd nearly died.
"Oh great," Carl muttered, heart already kicking into a sprint. "Memory Lane. With bonus trauma."
[Welcome back, brave warrior. To the site of your barely-earned victory. Try not to cry.]
Carl spun, checking every shadow. The cave was quiet. Too quiet. The eerie kind of silence you only got in places that remembered death. A silence that settled in your bones like cold water.
"…Is this a bug?" he whispered, pacing slowly. "I thought I was supposed to get teleported to a random spot. Why the hell did I respawn here?"
[Because randomness loves irony. And you are hilarious.]
"God, I hate you sometimes."
[You hate yourself more. Let's not project.]
The blood was gone—scrubbed clean by time or maybe the dungeon's weird reset system—but the scars on the stone were real. Faint claw marks. Deep scrapes. The place reeked of old pain. His pain.
Carl knelt next to the far wall, running a hand along a shallow groove. "I bled right here," he muttered. "Panther pounced from that ledge. I rolled left, but—yeah, right there—took a hit anyway."
His fingers brushed a chunk of chipped stone. Still loose.
He closed his hand around it, then exhaled slowly.
"That thing nearly killed me…"
[And yet here you are. Alive. Slightly stronger. Still very squishy.]
Carl didn't answer.
Because he wasn't listening anymore.
He was thinking about Bouncy.
His adorable, borderline useless slime companion. The one friend he had in this nightmare tutorial world. The one he'd left behind.
Carl's eyes widened. "Wait—Bouncy. Crap. Where is he?"
He jumped to his feet, Appraisal already active.
"Appraisal. Appraisal. Appraisal!" he whispered, whirling like a paranoid Roomba, scanning the entire cave like a man possessed.
[Rock – Rank: F-]
[Crack in Wall – Rank: F]
[Stale Air – Rank: E for Ew]
"Where is he?" Carl muttered, anxiety clawing up his spine. "He was here. He should've been here."
He scanned the ground. No puddle of blue. No goofy little bounce sounds. No trail of goo greeting him.
"System—he's a summon, right? Shouldn't he respawn with me?"
[Incorrect. Bouncy is not a summon. He's a companion. Which means when you left, he stayed.]
Carl's heart dropped. "You mean I abandoned him?!"
[Correct. You ditched your blob. Good job, hero.]
"…Goddamn it."
He sprinted to the cave entrance, scanning again.
[Loose Pebble – Rank: F-]
[Old Scratch Marks – Rank: Cautionary Tale Edition]
[Slime Trail – Rank: F. F for Follow It.]
Carl froze. "Wait. Slime trail?"
He crouched low. A faint glisten stretched across the floor like a snail's leftover sadness. It shimmered faintly in the gloom, curving toward the exit.
His heart jumped.
He was on his feet in a second.
"Bouncy!" he yelled. "Come here, you gooey idiot!"
The cave echoed his shout back at him. Bouncy didn't.
Carl stormed out into the forest beyond the cave mouth. Trees loomed like skeletal guardians, shadows thick and whispering.
The trail continued—but it got fainter. And then, suddenly, it was gone.
Wiped. Erased by time or wind or the sheer cruelty of fate.
"…You little bastard," Carl breathed. "You moved on without me?"
Was that abandonment he felt? From a slime? He wasn't sure. All he knew was that it stung a little.
He tried to Appraise again. Nothing.
"Damn it…" he muttered, scanning one last time. "Bouncy, if you can hear me, I'm not mad. Just—concerned. And mildly betrayed. Like a dog owner who lost their Shih Tzu in the park."
No response.
Just wind.
Carl rubbed his face. "Alright. Fine. You want to do your own thing? Cool. I'll just, y'know… not worry about the tiny gelatinous creature who imprinted on me like a baby duck. I'm fine. Everything's fine."
[False Statement Detected.]
He ignored the system and took a step into the woods.
If Bouncy wasn't nearby, then the only path was forward.
More trees. More underbrush. The dungeon's "wild" zones felt heavier than before, like the air itself was thicker. Smelled different, too. Less "clean fantasy forest," more "I will get eaten here."
Carl kept moving, Appraising everything as he went.
[Moss – Rank: F. Useless. Like your flirting attempts.]
[Tree Bark – Rank: F. Tastes terrible. Don't ask.]
[Footprint – Rank: E. Not yours.]
"Wait." Carl stopped. "Footprint?"
It was faint. Wide. Clawed. Definitely not human.
The brush rustled.
Something growled.
Carl's body snapped to full alert.
He backed up, hands already curling into fists.
"That's not Bouncy," he whispered.
The growl deepened—low, guttural, and far too close.
Carl's legs tensed. He dropped into a half-crouch, scanning the treeline. The brush in front of him shivered, just slightly. The kind of movement you'd miss if you weren't already on edge. The kind of movement that meant something was stalking.
His throat dried instantly.
"Okay," he whispered to himself. "It's fine. Could be a bunny. Or a breeze. Or a bunny caught in a breeze. That growls. And has claws. And wants to kill me."
[Optimistic Interpretation: Strongly discouraged.]
[Reality Check: You are currently being hunted.]
Carl's heart slammed against his ribs like it was trying to escape first.
He stepped back—quietly. Carefully.
Snap.
A twig betrayed him underfoot.
Everything went still.
The forest stopped breathing.
Then…
THUD. THUD. THUD.
Heavy, deliberate steps. Not charging—stalking. Predatory. Confident.
Carl's fingers twitched. His eyes darted for escape routes—tree? Nope, too thin. Rock? Too exposed. Burrow underground and start a new life as a mole person? Tempting, but slow.
"Okay," Carl muttered under his breath. "Options: fight, flee, or flail dramatically and hope it gets confused."
[Suggested Strategy: Run. Scream optional.]
[Bonus Achievement Available: "Fight or Flight? You Picked Neither" – Survive an ambush with less dignity than a frightened cat.]
Carl slowly pulled up Appraisal, his fingers trembling.
[Appraisal Activated…]
The brush parted—just an inch.
A sliver of fur. Not brown. Not black.
Crimson.
The forest howled.
Not the monster. The forest. Like it knew something ancient had stirred.
[Target Detected: Crimson Mauler]
[Rank: D+]
[Status: Agitated. Hunting. Hungry.]
Carl's vision swam.
"Oh, come on! Another D+?! What is this, a reunion for overachieving murder-beasts?!"
[Pattern Detected: You continue to attract the worst possible encounters. Perhaps it's your face.]
Then the bush exploded.
A blur of red muscle and gleaming claws lunged forward, faster than he could react. Carl dove sideways, the wind screaming past his ear as something massive tore into the ground where he'd just been.
[DANGER: Life-threatening encounter initiated.]
[Tip: You are not ready for this. Like, at all.]
Carl hit the ground, rolled, and came up wheezing.
The creature stepped into the clearing.
It was a feline—but wrong. Taller than a tiger, with jagged crimson fur and black streaks that pulsed like veins. Its jaws dripped with something thick and green. Its eyes glowed—not yellow like the panther—but white. As if it had stared at the sun and never looked away.
Carl's brain short-circuited.
"…Is this Duskfang's angrier cousin?!"
[Analysis: Unknown.]
[But we're calling it Duskfang 2: Feral Boogaloo.]
The Mauler crouched, muscles coiling.
It didn't see Carl as a threat.
It saw him as meat.
Carl's eyes darted to his stats—still Level 3. Still outmatched. Still underpowered.
His breath hitched. Legs trembling. Heart racing.
And yet—he stood his ground.
"…Alright," he said, voice shaking but steady. "Let's see if running still works."
The Mauler launched.
[Initiating Combat Sequence…]
[Mission Objective: Survive. Seriously. Just Survive.]
[Bonus Objective: Flee with fewer than three broken bones.]
[New Achievement Unlocked: "Welcome Back, Idiot" – Initiate combat within 10 minutes of returning to the tutorial.]
[Reward: +1 Endurance | +200 EXP | Title Unlocked: 'Crash Course Survivor']
[Title Effect: Slightly less likely to die in stupid ways.]
Carl turned and use Sprint - F skill. He then sprinted into the forest, branches whipping his face, the growls chasing him through the dark.
Behind him, trees cracked. Ground trembled. Death had legs—and it was fast.
The system's voice was smug.
[Good news: Your Sprinting skill is about to level up.]
Carl didn't scream.
But only because he was too busy running for his goddamn life.
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TO BE CONTINUED.
Next: Chapter 13 – "The Crimson Chase: Carl vs Catastrophe"