Chapter 9

Not even half a day ago, Remy was enjoying the lively atmosphere of a downtown bar as his drink was served and his friends complained about work.

Now he was in a godforsaken place, in almost complete darkness, staring a man in the eyes as his life left his body. His hand was locked across the dagger's handle as warm blood gushed out of the man's chest.

A few moments later and the convict drew his last breath. Remy was currently hyperventilating from having to fight for his life. Now that everything was over the implications of having killed someone were starting to set in.

Thankfully, he did so in self defense and, even though his mind was shocked silly, he still had enough rationality in him not to break down. The blood flowing out of the corpse was beginning to form a pool around them and if he didn't get up soon he would be soaked.

Remy slowly released the dagger and got up. He almost fell back down as a screaming pain in his thigh broke his balance. A small knife was inserted inside. Thankfully it was much smaller than the dagger so it barely just missed the artery.

Remy placed his bets on the adrenaline high currently sustaining him and pulled it out. It came out red and he could feel something dripping down his leg. His face stung, his shoulder and arm hurt from the unlucky cuts he received.

"Fu*king Hell…"He was a mess and a half, but at least he was not dead. Yet, at least. He remembered the kind of place he was in. He cursed even harder and looked around. Nothing had appeared, but who knew how long that would last.

He glanced at the corpse, ignoring the very unpleasant realization that he now had literal and figurative blood on his hands.

'Status' He mentally intoned.

Status.

Name: Remy Riverson

Age: 15

Level: 2 (150/300)

HP: 32/110 (+0.1/min)

MP: 120

STR: 8

VIT: 7

DEX: 10

AGI: 10

INT: 12

Points: 10

Perks: [None]

Skills: [None]

Apparently he had leveled up and had some points to spend. His HP was down to 32, but the maximum amount seemed to have increased with the level.

Remy saw additional information near it and realized that was the regeneration rate. He did some quick calculation and realized it would take him a full thirteen hours for his HP to come back to full.

In other circumstances he would be overjoyed it would only take half a day to recover from these wounds. Presently, however, that amount of time was nowhere near convenient enough. He didn't think he could relax in the dungeon for that long. Still, he was counting his blessings as the bleeding had already stopped.

He didn't hesitate to place the ten points he had just received in his agility stat bringing it up to twenty. Was it a bad idea to use points before he had the chance to normally raise his stat through training?

Yes it was. But he couldn't afford to think about the future when not even the present was guaranteed. What are some measly points in comparison to his life?

The reason he chose the [AGI] attribute was simple. He wanted to stay alive. Being fast and nimble would greatly serve that cause.

'Also, I'm going to be using this.' He thought as he eyed the dagger that almost took his life. He glanced at the corpse, expecting to feel some sort of moral despair, but all he could feel was resentment.

The man not only wanted to kill Remy twice, but he even forced him into taking a life. How could he not feel resentment? The more Remy went along that line of thought the uglier his face grew.

He unceremoniously pulled the dagger out, ignoring the burst of blood that came with it. It was a crude thing, around fifteen centimetres long and about five wide. The leather bound handle had a simple wooden guard now stained dark by all the blood.

He took a few leather straps from the man and wrapped them around his pants, then placed the dagger between them. His shirt was long enough to almost completely conceal it if not for the tip poking out when he moved.

He inspected the corpse further. The fur clothes were a no go, soaked in blood as they were. What Remy could take instead were the boots. They were a size too big but the leather and fur held close to his feet so it didn't bother him.

After contemplating for a second, he inserted the small knife in his left boot. He felt first hand how useful something like this could be. The small blade slid in perfectly and Remy might even forget it was there if he didn't pay attention.

Now that he had some proper footwear he proceeded to check the man's pockets. He found twenty nuggets of Mithril, a flint and steel set and a couple of berries. He placed the first two in his inventory and threw the berries into his mouth. They did little to alleviate his hunger, but it was better than nothing.

Next he turned the body over and took out the bow placed across his back. It may have been a good find, but the earlier fight made it unusable.

Even in the dark environment, he could clearly see the huge crack on it. Remy could bet it wouldn't even survive long enough to be drawn. So he just left it here, especially since there were no arrows either.

Now, Remy had to make a decision. Should he stay here and recover as much as possible or should he get moving?

Stalling for time for his HP regeneration to work its magic was the sensible thing to do. That said, he definitely couldn't wait here. The struggle was definitely loud and now the smell of blood was permeating.

Remy didn't know what kind of creatures lurked inside here, but something was bound to come over.

He decided the best thing to do is leave and find some sort of place to lay low. That was, of course, under the assumption that something like that existent within the dungeon to begin with.

Slowly, he began moving. Each step sent waves of pain all throughout his body. He was immensely thankful he had a system and the wounds were actually healing even as he walked. A normal person might have already given up on getting out of this place alive.

Remy used the faint glow of the Mithril veins to guide himself, occasionally stopping by a support beam to rest. As his excitement died down, his body quickly took the chance to conserve energy and stopped pumping adrenaline.

The hunger came back in full force and with it an intense wave of weakness. His knees buckled and Remy was forced to sit down before he fell on his face.

Thankfully, he already put some distance between him and the dead body. Seeing that he had no other choice, he took out a potato from his [Inventory]. HP regeneration would work its magic on its own, but his hunger was not related to it.

It's been more than three days since any food graced his stomach, the earlier few berries notwithstanding. Whatever mystical energy had sustained him after transmigrating was entirely depleted.

Even so, he was still not desperate enough to just to bite into the potato with all the dirt on it. With a small sigh he took the small knife from his boot and began peeling it. A minute later and it was still dirty, but good enough to be eaten.

With his eyes still darting around the place in case something suddenly pops out, Remy bit into the potato. It was not the most impressive thing he had eaten in his life, but right now his hunger made him think it was a culinary masterpiece.

Once he finished eating, his stomach demanded more and he obliged. Two more went down his throat before he had to forcefully stop himself from eating a fourth one. He was in a weakened state right now and overeating might cause him to throw up.

So he sat quietly, thinking how much more he could do this. A few minutes passed and Remy wondered if he should do something. The best thing to do now was just to sit there, rest and recuperate. But he couldn't be blamed for not having the mental fortitude to just stand there for hours.

He was in a dungeon, a place that his mind recognized as a danger zone. Passivity was something totally against what his survival instinct was telling him to do.

He briefly thought of bandaging his wounds, but that was a useless endeavor. He had no idea how to properly bandage a wound except tying some cloth around it. It was also a wasted effort in his case. He's wounds had bled for no more than a few minutes before his regeneration kicked in and fixed that issue.

As long as he didn't take any more damage, he would be fully healed in half a day. It was something he still tried to wrap his head around. In any case, bandages or no bandages the process would be the same.

A couple of hours later, Remy's rest was interrupted by the sound of something moving a distance away from him. An unpleasant smell assaulted his nostrils as he hurriedly got up, dagger in hand.