5. Kyle vs Goblin

The goblin lunged forward while brandishing its machete. Kyle barely had time to block with his own machete—just enough to prevent the goblin's spear from piercing his chest.

He was thrown backward and nearly fell to the ground. The goblin pounced on him once again. Kyle judged that the green creature's physical capabilities were superior to his. In this situation, facing the enemy head-on would result in death.

This wasn't his first rodeo with death. The environment and circumstances life had imposed on him had forced him to fight for survival more than once.

And every time, he faced adults while being just a fragile child. Not once did he have the advantage in those battles, but he survived—sometimes by escaping, sometimes by kneeling, and sometimes even by killing his opponent.

And during that process, he learned to play dirty tricks to survive.

From the moment the goblin pounced on him, his arm reached for the bag that contained the five Molotov cocktails. When the goblin's axe clashed against his machete, his hand was already gripping one of the bottles, and when he was thrown back and the goblin lunged at him again, he threw the bottle.

His aim was spot on. The oil-filled bottle shattered right on the goblin's face. The glass shards embedded themselves in the creature's body, causing pain—but that was secondary.

There were two reasons he had thrown the bottle. First, the shards had pierced the green creature's eyes, cutting through its eyelids and completely tearing into its pupils. Now, the goblin was officially blind.

"AHHHHHH!" the creature shrieked in agony. The charge it had been executing was interrupted by the sheer pain of having its eyes destroyed. For a moment, it even dropped its axe—the instinct to cover its eyes overpowered it, even with an enemy right in front of it.

And this was the second reason he had thrown the bottle. The pain would likely distract the monster from the battle for a moment—not long, just enough. It was a tactic frequently used in the dump, a dirty trick that no one would call honorable. But he never truly learned the meaning of that word.

So he didn't care.

Seizing the opportunity, he swiftly closed the distance to the green dwarf and thrust his machete into its neck. The goblin seemed to feel something, but it was already too late. Blood poured out as its body collapsed to the ground.

Kyle's first battle as a player had resulted in victory, thanks to a hidden weapon that wasn't even a weapon.

"That was dangerous." He wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Though not that much. I guess that's why new players spawn here—the monsters are easy to kill."

Unbeknownst to Kyle, nearly 20% of players died at the hands of these beginner-level monsters. People who had led peaceful, normal lives were rarely able to adapt quickly to the game of kill or be killed.

Aware of this fact, those with resources usually sent their children to private academies where they were taught how to fight and survive. Even so, no teacher was as good as the dump.

It could be said that Kyle had grown up in the most optimal environment to prepare him for this game from the very beginning.

"Now for my reward." He placed his hand on the goblin's body. He could choose to absorb its vitality, energy, or soul to strengthen himself.

"Absorb blood." He obviously chose to absorb vitality. The other two parameters didn't have any clear use at the moment, but a strong body was an essential tool for survival.

The goblin's body began to shrink at a visibly rapid pace. Its skin dried up, its muscles withered, and all color drained from its body. At the same time, Kyle felt warm—just like when he used to take hot showers as a child.

The sensation was comfortable, but he didn't let it overwhelm him. Examining his body, he noticed that muscles that hadn't been there before had begun to grow. His previously slim frame seemed to gain mass as he devoured the creature's life force at an incredible speed.

By the time it was over, his formerly lean build was now simply muscular. He still looked a bit thin, but he estimated he had gained at least ten kilos.

The goblin's body, on the other hand, was gone—reduced to mere ashes after being stripped of all its essence.

"This is fascinating." Examining his status, he noticed that his physical rank was still a solid F-, but he didn't care. For the first time in a long while, a genuine smile graced his face.

He stood up, ready to continue his path. But his body immediately tensed as an image appeared in his line of sight. Without hesitation, he moved several meters to the side and lay down behind a bush.

A few seconds later, a group of ten goblins appeared, led by one that was at least half a head taller than the rest. Kyle's eyes locked onto the leader through the foliage. With just one glance, he understood that the power gap was overwhelming.

If he faced that goblin leader, he would die instantly. That thing was—Kyle guessed—a higher rank. He didn't know which, but it was definitely a rank above his own.

The goblins inspected the ashes of what had once been their comrade. They seemed confused and somewhat terrified. After exchanging a few words, they turned back in the direction they had come from.

Kyle didn't dare move until several minutes after the goblins were gone. After a while, he got up and continued on his way to the village, even more cautious than before.

He understood that in this forest, no matter how much of a beginner-level area it was, he was at the bottom of the food chain.

It took him over half an hour to arrive. A sturdy stone wall, about five meters tall, loomed ahead. A large entrance, about three meters wide, was set into the wall, guarded by two leather-armored soldiers armed with spears.

To the side, there was a table with various gadgets on top. Sitting behind it was a woman in formal clothing. A sign beside her read: "Registration Center for New Foreigners."

A line of several dozen people had already formed behind the table—all new players. Most of them appeared human, but Kyle could see that several, without a doubt, belonged to different races.

Like the red-skinned man with three eyes on his face or the woman with a spiny tail on her back. Kyle observed them with curiosity as he waited. This was all new to him, just as it was to the others. But in his case, it wasn't just the fantasy novel-like setting that felt strange.

The simple act of seeing women of various ages felt odd to him. Back in the dump, women never lasted more than a week, making it an almost exclusively male territory. He could count on one hand the number of times he had spoken to a woman.

No, he mentally corrected himself. There was one woman who had survived that place.

The image of a thin figure surrounded by five gangsters' corpses came to mind