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Carl woke up to the delightful sensation of his entire body hating him.
"Ugh… I feel like I got hit by a truck. Twice. Then dragged for a mile. And maybe punted for good measure."
Everything hurt. His arms felt like wet noodles, his back was one with the cold, hard floor, and—oh, yeah—his last memory involved bludgeoning a nightmare creature with a frying pan.
Good times.
[Status Updated!]
Carl groaned, blinking blearily at the floating screen. "Oh, what now? Did I unlock 'Excessive Pan Violence - E Rank'?"
[Status Changes:]
[Skill: Basic Adaptability - E (Minor physical enhancements)]
[Fatigue: High]
[Health: 62%]
[New Title Acquired: The Pan Wielder]
Carl stared at the screen. Then rubbed his face. "Okay. One, that last one better not stick. Two, sixty-two percent? What, did I respawn with missing hit points?"
[You slept on the floor with no bedding. Would you like a tutorial on proper sleeping arrangements?]
Carl exhaled through his nose. "Oh, sure, why not? Enlighten me, O Mighty System."
[Step One: Don't sleep on the floor, idiot.]
"Wow. Just… wow. I'm so glad you're here to guide me."
[You're welcome! :> ]
Carl groaned and pushed himself up, bones creaking in protest. The abandoned house was just as eerie in the morning light—dusty furniture, cracked windows, and the lingering feeling that something had lived here long before he arrived.
He glanced at the rusted frying pan near his feet. "Alright, buddy. You served me well. But I think it's time I found something that wasn't designed for omelets."
His stomach growled.
"Speaking of, food. Kinda need that to not die."
[Ah, yes. The sacred art of Not Starving. Would you like—]
"If you tell me to eat, I swear I will find a way to punch a hologram."
[O_O]
Carl sighed, rolling his shoulders. "Okay. First, weapon. Second, food. Third… actually, is there a third? Oh! Right. Not dying. That's probably important."
With a plan in mind, he scoured the house for supplies. Most of it was junk—broken furniture, empty cabinets, a suspiciously sticky countertop he refused to investigate. But after some digging, he struck gold.
A kitchen knife. Dull, but better than nothing.
A backpack. Torn, but usable.
A single, slightly squashed protein bar. Expired? Probably. Edible? Well, desperate times.
Carl examined his loot. "Alright. This is… barely an upgrade. But hey, it's a step up from flailing at monsters with cookware."
[New Equipment Acquired: Kitchen Knife (Dull) - F Rank]
Carl frowned. "Wait, this world ranks knives? What, is there an SSS-Rank Excalibur somewhere?"
[Oh, absolutely. Probably cursed, too.]
"Great. Something to look forward to."
Securing his bag, Carl stepped outside. The forest stretched endlessly in every direction, a mix of towering trees and thick underbrush. Birds chirped overhead, which was a good sign—birds meant no immediate monsters. Probably.
He checked his return countdown.
[Return Cooldown: 12 Hours Remaining.]
"Halfway there. Just gotta keep breathing until then. Easy peasy."
A rustle in the bushes made him freeze.
Carl immediately gripped his knife, heart pounding. "Nope. No, no, no. I am not in the mood for another surprise boss fight."
Silence.
Then—
A rabbit hopped out.
Carl exhaled. "Oh, thank God. Just a normal—wait. Is it normal? Or is it some nightmare rabbit with laser eyes?"
The rabbit stared at him, unblinking.
Carl stared back.
[Analysis: It's just a rabbit, dude.]
"You say that, but I don't trust anything in this place."
Still, food was food. He raised the knife, hesitating. "Alright, Carl. You can do this. Just… pretend it's a really fluffy vegetable. With legs. And emotions. And—ugh."
The rabbit twitched.
Carl twitched.
The rabbit bolted.
Carl lowered the knife. "…Y'know what? Screw it. I wasn't that hungry anyway."
His stomach betrayed him with a loud growl.
"Traitor."
Shaking his head, Carl continued walking. The forest was eerily quiet, but that only made him more paranoid. Every rustle, every snapping twig sent his nerves into overdrive. He kept his knife ready, convinced something would inevitably try to eat him.
Then the ground rumbled.
Carl stopped. "Uh… that's not normal, right?"
The system dinged.
[WARNING: High-level presence detected nearby.]
Carl immediately turned 180 degrees. "Welp. Time to go."
He sprinted back toward the house, but the rumbling intensified. Trees shook. The air felt heavier. Carl cursed under his breath, pushing himself harder.
Then he heard it.
A deep, guttural growl.
Carl skidded to a stop, eyes darting around. "Okay, so, fun update—running isn't gonna cut it, is it?"
[Nope!]
Something massive crashed through the trees, and Carl got his first glimpse of his new problem.
A beast. Wolf-like, but wrong. Too big. Too many eyes. Shadows clung to its body like living smoke, twisting unnaturally.
Carl pointed. "That. That right there? That's some premium nightmare fuel."
[Congratulations! You have encountered an Apex Predator. Estimated survival rate: 4%.]
Carl threw his hands up. "Oh, come on! I just woke up! Can I get, like, one chill day?"
The beast growled, muscles tensing.
Carl tightened his grip on the knife. "Alright, Carl. Think. You have a tiny, dull knife. That thing has enough teeth to be its own cutlery set. What's the game plan?"
Silence.
"Yeah, I got nothing."
The beast lunged.
Carl did the only reasonable thing.
He screamed and bolted.
[New Skill Acquired: Sprinting - F Rank]
"Oh, NOW you give me a running skill?!" Carl shouted as he dodged through the trees.
Branches whipped past his face. The beast was fast. Too fast. He could hear it closing in, its snarls vibrating in his chest.
"Any tips that aren't 'run'?" he gasped.
[Sure! Have you considered not dying?]
"You know I've read a lot of Manwha's where the MC had a system and Imma say YOU ARE THE WORST SYSTEM EVER!" (Tears flowing while running)
The beast snapped its jaws, missing him by inches. Carl's legs burned. His lungs screamed. He had to think of something—anything—before he became a very unfortunate footnote in this world's history.
Then he saw it.
A steep incline ahead. A sheer drop.
Carl made a split-second decision.
He jumped.
The world spun. The wind roared in his ears. For one terrifying moment, he was weightless.
Then—
Impact.
Carl hit the ground hard, tumbling through dirt and leaves. Pain exploded across his body, but he was alive.
Above, the beast snarled, pacing at the edge of the cliff.
Carl groaned, lifting his head. "Ow. Ow. So much ow."
[Survival Rate Updated: 12%.]
"Oh, screw you."
The beast roared, but it didn't jump. Instead, it turned and disappeared into the trees.
Carl let out a shaky breath. "Okay. New rule. Avoid things with extra eyes."
[Noted!]
He flopped onto his back, staring at the sky. "Twelve more hours. Just twelve more. I can survive that. Right?"
Silence.
Carl groaned. "That's not reassuring."
Because knowing his luck?
The worst was yet to come.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
To Be Continued…