Rat Forest[3].

"Charlotte! I've gotten the herbs needed, let's go!"

Ethan ran forward, his breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps. His weak body betrayed him, every step feeling like dragging a corpse through quicksand. The heavy backpack didn't help either, its weight crushing against his spine with every painful jolt.

Behind him, the rat monsters shrieked as they realized he was leaving their storage house. Their small, beady eyes turned bloodshot, rage flooding their tiny minds as they lunged after him.

"Shit, shit, shit—" Ethan cursed, forcing his trembling legs to move faster, but it was pointless. Rats were inheritably fast, faster than he could ever hope to be. Within seconds, they closed the distance.

Before Ethan could react, one of the rats swung a gnarled palm at him, hitting him square in the side. The force sent him flying like a broken doll. He slammed into the dungeon wall with a sickening crunch, the impact snapping his nose sideways and fracturing his arm.

Pain exploded in his body. Ethan whined through gritted teeth, his vision blurring, dark spots dancing at the edges of his sight.

"So this is how my character felt when I used to play..." he thought bitterly, tasting blood on his tongue.

His body refused to move properly, every nerve screaming in agony. Yet he forced his hand into his pocket, pulling out the last remaining piece of cheese — a desperate gamble.

"Charlotte, where the fuck are you?!" he rasped, barely able to stay upright. "That statue cannot be defeated no matter how hard you try! Even a saint-rank demigod couldn't touch it unless the Rat King dies first!"

He didn't bother hiding the truth anymore. If Charlotte kept fighting that insane rat statue, she would die — and so would he. They had no chance otherwise.

Ethan held the cheese in his shaking hand, letting the rats sniff it, their noses twitching hungrily. Then with all the strength he could muster, he hurled it toward Charlotte's direction and bolted for the fifth level, every step sending agony lancing up his spine.

Fear gnawed at his insides, worse than the rats ever could. His entire body ached so badly he wanted to curl up and sleep forever, but instinct screamed at him louder — Move or die.

Charlotte, still locked in battle with the rat statue, caught a glimpse of the incoming cheese — and the pursuing rat horde. Without hesitation, she dashed away from the statue, sprinting back through the corridor.

Along the way, she found Ethan barely clinging to consciousness, using the wall to drag himself forward, blood pouring from his mouth and nose like a broken faucet.

Without a word, Charlotte grabbed him by the collar and hoisted him over her shoulder like he weighed nothing. Ethan let out a weak groan as he bounced against her back, too drained to even protest.

"I got the herbs... we need to get out of here... don't take the normal route to the first floor," Ethan panted near her ear. "They'll set an ambush there... there's a secret pathway before the first floor... enter that passage... we'll exit through the anus..."

Charlotte didn't even flinch at his strange phrasing. Everything Ethan had told her so far turned out to be true. He knew too much about the Rat Forest — more than any hunter should — and her instincts screamed to trust him.

Behind them, the horde of giant rats was gaining, their claws scratching across the dungeon stone with terrifying speed. Ethan could feel their hot breath on his back already.

He clenched his teeth.

Why are they overreacting? It's just a few herbs! Are they really going to rip us apart over it?

"Would you be happy if someone entered your room and stole the stuff you worked hard for?" Charlotte snapped back between pants when she heard him muttering.

"No…" Ethan admitted weakly.

His answer barely left his lips before Charlotte spotted the hidden pathway Ethan described. It looked more like a crack in the earth than an actual tunnel. Without hesitating, she threw herself into it, dragging Ethan along.

Their vision twisted violently as they passed through the passage, like being squeezed through the eye of a hurricane. Ethan's stomach flipped inside out.

And then — they stumbled out.

They were outside. Free from the Rat Forest.

Charlotte finally allowed herself to slow down, bending over to catch her breath.

"What are you doing, fool?!" Ethan gasped, his voice hoarse. His face was smushed against her chest, much to his secret delight, but now wasn't the time. "Those motherfuckers will keep chasing us unless we leave the forest's range!"

Charlotte blinked.

"Huh?"

Monsters weren't supposed to leave the dungeon. That was a basic rule. Everyone knew it.

"Guess this is my first lesson…" Ethan muttered darkly. "Those fuckers can leave the dungeon. They just choose not to. But if you're still within 200km of their home, they'll hunt you down like rabbits."

"That's… Impossible." Charlotte said, her voice cracking.

"MOVE, fool!" Ethan shouted.

Charlotte snapped back to reality and bolted forward again — but it was too late.

A giant rat lunged from the shadows, its claws slashing across her arm. Blood sprayed in the air. The wound nearly severed her arm from her torso.

The attack had come like a ghost, silent and precise. Charlotte stumbled, clutching her injured arm, her mind reeling. She hadn't expected this. The books, the Union teachings — everything said dungeons were safe once you exited.

But nothing about this was safe.

Ethan, ignoring his own broken bones, latched onto Charlotte with his working hand. He didn't care where he grabbed — arm, waist, boob — whatever he could cling to, just to stay alive.

Charlotte gritted her teeth, fury and fear burning through her veins, and sprinted harder, adrenaline numbing the pain.

The giant rat chased them, howling in fury, but as soon as they crossed an invisible threshold, it slowed. Its body flickered like static — then vanished, dragged back into the dungeon's pull.

Charlotte finally collapsed against a tree, her body trembling uncontrollably. The shock, the pain, the betrayal of everything she thought she knew about dungeons — it was too much.

Ethan, barely holding on, looked up at her.

Her gaze toward him was complicated now. Not just confusion, but something else — trust, and maybe a sliver of hope.

He grinned weakly. "Did you just realize how handsome I am? Back in the day, ladies were dying to see me, you know... take me to your little sis, fool."

Charlotte nodded silently, too shaken to argue. She fumbled out her phone and called for a ride.

It wasn't long before a cab pulled up.

The driver barely glanced at them, used to seeing bloody, battered hunters. He only raised the fare a little, and Charlotte paid without blinking.

Ethan, meanwhile, sneakily peeked at the smooth white skin of Charlotte's exposed shoulder, engraving the image deep into his heart.

Who knows… this might be the last time.

He chuckled to himself.

Before the main character even sees a girl's skin, I'm already ahead…

But he didn't dare touch her. He wasn't stupid. She could probably slice off his hand faster than he could blink.

—

The cab finally stopped in front of a decent-looking house.

Charlotte dragged Ethan inside, and he slumped against her, resting his head against her chest again without shame.

"What are you doing?" she asked coldly.

"I'm suffering from a condition where I'm weaker than normal humans…" Ethan said, keeping a straight face. "That trip drained me dry. I'm not taking advantage of you. I just need a minute to regain stamina. Otherwise, I might mess up the healing process — and if you reject me, your sister's body might reject the treatment too."

Charlotte gritted her teeth. Every fiber of her being told her he was milking the situation. But… she couldn't risk it.

Ethan gave a small, satisfied sigh.

That's enough. I've fulfilled my wish… Resting my head here. My past life's obsession is over. Now, I can start a new life.

With that, he pulled away, face blank.

He grabbed the herbs from his bag, along with several strange vials, and began mixing them skillfully.

Charlotte watched, stunned, as he ground, crushed, and blended everything together with a strange, confident rhythm.

Finally, he turned to her with a look of complete seriousness.

"Strip off her clothes."

"Impossible!" Charlotte barked.

"Strip her down," Ethan repeated calmly, holding out the mixture, "and rub this all over her body. In a day, wash her off. She'll be healed."

Charlotte stared at the simple paste in disbelief.

No complicated magic circles, no thousand-year-old rituals — just mashed-up herbs and weird liquids.

And somehow, he made it sound like it would work.