Tier 1 Gate (2)

The Kuroda apartment was quiet, except for the faint hum of the fridge and the occasional bird outside pretending it was a good morning.

Miko shuffled into the kitchen, oversized hoodie hanging off one shoulder, socks slapping softly against the linoleum floor. Her eyes were half-closed, hair a mess, and a juice box already wedged in her mouth like it was her only lifeline.

She opened the fridge.

Stopped, and closed it again.

There was a note, taped to the door in Lanz's crooked handwriting:

"I'm gonna be gone for 2 days. Don't worry. Studying with a friend. — L"

She read it twice, then squinted like the fridge had personally insulted her.

'Oh, so he's with his friends,' she thought to herself, scratching her hair like there's no tomorrow.

She opened the fridge again and picked up a juice box. Suddenly, she regained her consciousness, and closed the fridge door shut and read it again. "Since when did he have friends?" she muttered, slurping her juice.

The bedroom door creaked. Their mom emerged, already dressed in café gear, glasses perched low on her nose and a pen stuck in her bun like she'd been fighting off spreadsheets in her sleep. She moved toward the fridge, reading the note without taking it down.

Her brows knit together. "What...?"

"Don't worry," Miko said, deadpan. "He's either studying... or he joined a dungeon cult."

"Miko," Mom sighed.

"I mean, same thing if you squint."

The front door clicked, and their dad stumbled in, the scent of coffee and rail grease trailing after him like cologne. His uniform was still creased from the overnight shift, and his hair looked like it had lost a fight with a cargo drone.

"Morning," he yawned, stepping into the kitchen and reaching for the kettle. He glanced at the note. "What's this?"

"Lanz left," Miko said, sipping.

"He's 'studying with a friend,'" Mom said, less convinced.

Dad blinked at the note. "Huh. Probably means Kaz. Let the kid breathe."

As if summoned, Kaz strolled in, one earbud in, toast in his mouth, jacket half-zipped.

"I am the friend," he said flatly, grabbing the juice box out of Miko's hand like it was his birthright.

"Hey!" she protested.

"He's fine," Kaz added between chews. "Said something about getting fresh air and clearing his head... I'm just kidding, he didn't."

Mom folded her arms, still staring at the note like it might change its story. "It's just... this isn't like him."

"He's sixteen," Dad said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Let him feel like he's doing something grown-up. Even if it's just walking around pretending he's in an anime."

Kaz snorted. "Honestly, wouldn't be surprised if he's narrating to himself in the woods."

"He does talk to himself," Miko added. "I caught him once, practicing cool lines in front of the bathroom mirror. Something about numbers, or something."

Mom exhaled. Her shoulders dropped a little. "Okay... but if he's not back by dinner tomorrow—"

"I'll find him," Kaz said, smirking. "I'll just follow the dramatic monologue trail."

That earned a tired laugh from Dad, and even a small smile from Mom. Miko rolled her eyes and took another juice box from the fridge.

"Hope he didn't actually go study. That's more suspicious than joining a cult."

They stood there for a while, a little worried, a little amused — but mostly just... letting him go.

***

Back in the forest, a pair of boots settled quietly into the earth.

Lanz crouched on a ridge, half-hidden behind a thicket of lowbrush and tangled roots. The angle gave him a view of the clearing ahead — wide and uneven, with flickers of orange glow licking upward from a crude fire pit. He stayed still, breath held, visor down, watching.

Goblins, and there were a lot of them.

He counted quick, quiet. Around thirty, maybe a few more lurking near the back. Some of them wore scrap armor — rusted plates, shoulder guards made of mismatched metal and bone. Most held blades or clubs, a few with sharpened poles or repurposed farming tools. The fire in the middle cracked and hissed as something he didn't want to identify roasted on a spit.

Around the fire were tents, if they could be called that, tarp-like sheets stretched over sticks, bits of cloth tied to bones, old banners bent into crude canopies.

They weren't organized, but they weren't chaotic.

Small patrol loops traced around the edges, four goblins walking in pairs, switching direction every few minutes. A cluster of bigger ones stuck near the food. Two were squabbling near a pile of sacks. Another sat apart, sharpening a spear — long, thicker than the rest.

He narrowed his eyes.

"Too many for now," Lanz muttered under his breath.

But the terrain wasn't useless.

There was a slow-moving stream behind the camp. Barely noticeable unless you were watching long enough to catch the shimmer. He followed its line with his eyes — it curved through a dip in the forest, tall grass leaning over it. That could be useful.

And on the other side of the ridge, a cluster of loose stones sat near the edge. Nothing too major, but one of the huge boulders had rolled partway down and lodged near a precarious tree, angled just right.

"I'll come back here, but I'll farm a bit."

Lanz backed away slowly, keeping his cloak low and his boots light. The camp faded behind him as he slipped into cover.

The brush closed around him again as Lanz put distance between himself and the camp. His breathing stayed measured, boots crunching only where he let them. The faint glow of the goblin fire faded behind him, replaced by the silver wash of moonlight cutting through leaves.

Still nighttime in this gate. He cut left, deeper into the forest. If thirty goblins was the endgame, then he needed more levels, more skills, more everything. EXP didn't grow on trees.

Which meant picking a fight.

A narrow clearing opened ahead, shaped like a bent funnel with undergrowth curling around the edges. Fallen branches littered the ground. 'A spot like this exist here?'

He stepped in, and then it started.

A sharp snarl, from the left, tore through the silence.

Lanz spun, dagger raised. A lean, low-bodied wolf lunged out of the brush. Its frame was wiry but packed, covered in short gray fur with streaks of bone showing around its joints. Its eyes gleamed with heat, it suddenly howled.

Another snarl answered from behind.

"You gotta be kidding me," he cursed and pivoted, barely catching sight of the second one slipping through the leaves. Smaller than the first, but it was faster. They moved like partners, like they'd done this before.

"Jumping people is crazy work, not gonna lie," he muttered.

The first one charged straight in. Lanz didn't meet it head-on — he snapped sideways and activated Feint Step. His form blurred to the right, then rematerialized just left of the wolf's pounce.

He was already swinging.

The dagger caught it across the ribs, shallow but clean. It yelped, rolled, then scrambled back with a snarl. Blood dripped from its side.

The second didn't pause.

Lanz heard the rush of paws just a second too late. He turned and the thing slammed into him from the rear, jaws clamping down on his forearm, his clothe tore.

He grit his teeth and drove his elbow down hard. It connected with the side of the beast's skull. It didn't let go, but it loosened enough for him to jam the dagger backward.

The point found something soft.

With a strained grunt, Lanz twisted and shoved the wolf off. It hit the ground, thrashed once, then stilled.

The first one lunged again, rage flaring, but its partner was dead, so it hesitated.

That was all Lanz needed.

He surged forward, dropping low, and slashed his dagger across its legs. It dropped mid-leap before it could scramble upright, he was on it.

The forest went quiet.

Lanz dropped back, hand pressing to his forearm. The bite had left a deep welt, skin punctured but not torn through. He flexed his fingers, it was definitely bruised, but not broken.

He let out a breath and looked at the bodies.

A soft ping followed:

[ENEMY DEFEATED – EXP GAINED: +10]

[ENEMY DEFEATED – EXP GAINED: +10]

Twenty total.

He nodded and checked the surroundings again. Luckily, no more movements, so he decided to go to the nearby stream he hears.

The stream wasn't far. After dragging himself out of the clearing, Lanz followed a dip in the terrain until the sound of running water got clearer. The kind of steady flow that made it easy to track, even in the dark. He moved slow but steady, steps lighter now that nothing had jumped out for a few minutes.

He crouched by the bank and dipped both hands into the water. He brought a few handfuls to his mouth and splashed the rest over his face and neck. Helped clear his head, at least a little. He leaned back on a rock nearby, took a breath, and looked at his fore arm. Although bruised, it's getting better now.

Something fluttered.

Lanz blinked, eyes scanning up just in time to see a shadow drop from the branches.

He moved without thinking. One step back, slight turn—

A heavy thud crashed into his chest. Claws scratched at his arm, raked the side of his visor. He stumbled, shoved it away, caught a glimpse of jagged feathers and a hooked beak. The thing didn't fly like a normal bird. It angled low and fast, wings stretched, face aimed right at him.

"Of course there's flying f*cks here as well," he hissed, standing up, "And it's fast too?"

It was indeed fast, but not fast enough. He angled his dagger, and in a swift motion he chucked it to the vulture looking beast and the dagger landed straight to its chest.

The bird fell, and twitched, then stopped moving.

He picked up his dagger and looked at the new scratch on his arm, it was around the same place he took the Fangwolf bite. Both injuries wasn't much, but the pain was sharp enough to make him pause. He sat down again and ripped a strip off the bottom of his cloak, wrapping the cut with one hand while checking his gear with the other.

[ENEMY DEFEATED – EXP GAINED: +3]

[TOTAL EXP: 32 / 50]

"Everything in this place goes for the face," Lanz muttered. "I guess that's one of the cons for having such a handsome face."

He tied the makeshift bandage tighter and rolled his wrist. Movement was fine, grip was steady. He leaned forward and took one more sip from the stream.

Then he looked up.

There was a break in the tree cover just ahead, and in the distance, up past the slope that curved toward the mountain edge near the goblin camp, he noticed the huge boulder that rolled partway down and lodged near a precarious tree, angled just perfectly. 'Maybe...'

He didn't finish the thought, he just gave a short nod to himself and stood up.

Lanz was inspecting the bandage when he heard a loud throaty snort that came from somewhere off to his left. It sounded wet, like a giant was trying to clear its sinuses inside a cave. He turned his head toward the noise, hand already reaching for his dagger.

Another snort followed, heavier this time, and something pushed through the bush. It was big, covered in short bristles and lined with jagged, uneven spikes along its back. The tusks alone could have hooked a grown man by the ribs.

It hadn't seen him yet... or maybe it had, and it didn't care.

Lanz took a careful step backward. A branch cracked under his boot. "You f*cking cliche," he whispered. But it was useless whispering, the boar turned and snorted already, louder. He didn't wait to see if it charged, he just ran.

It barreled after him immediately, stomping through the underbrush like it had a personal grudge against trees. Lanz could hear each heavy step behind him, the ground shaking faintly as the thing picked up speed. His brain kicked into overdrive. He remembered a ridge not far from here, close to the stream, maybe twenty meters out. If he could angle the boar toward the rock outcrop just past it, he might be able to—

It grunted again, louder. The sound was too close now.

Lanz veered right, letting the terrain guide him. The ridge sloped downward into a shallow drop just before the stream. He hit the edge and turned sharply, forcing himself to a stop as the boar charged straight at him.

"Maybe..." he muttered.

He pivoted hard and dove to the side.

The boar slammed straight into the rock. The crunch that followed was bone-jarring, more than enough to stagger the beast. Its tusk cracked, one of its legs folded at a bad angle, and its head jerked wildly from the impact.

Lanz didn't wait. He rushed in and struck fast — once across the throats, another under the jaw, then again across its chest. It thrashed once more, then collapsed.

[ENEMY DEFEATED – EXP GAINED: +7]

[TOTAL EXP: 39 / 50]

Lanz exhaled, steadying his breath. "Those boars can be useful..." he muttered.

He walked over to inspect it. The cracked tusk came loose easily. He turned it over in his hands. Rough but dense, not good as a weapon, but maybe worth keeping.

He tucked it into his pouch and stood up again. His arms still ached. His back was sore, but he was still upright.

Lanz pushed aside a curtain of vines and ducked into a narrow gap between two boulders. The space opened into a cramped little hideout, just enough room to sit and stretch his legs. Fallen leaves softened the ground, and the stones around him blocked most of the breeze. He didn't know if it counted as safe, but it was hidden, and right now, that was enough.

He sat down, finally letting the fatigue catch up to him. His limbs were sore, fingers scraped, and every bruise from the last few fights was starting to settle in. With a grunt, he unslung the goblin satchel and set it down beside him.

The dagger he'd looted was still intact, a little duller now but reliable. He gave it a quick wipe with cloth and sheathed it again. The meat in the pouch was stiff and tasted like dried regret, but he chewed through a strip anyway. It helped take the edge off the nausea still clinging to him after everything.

His water flask was nearly empty. He took a sip, swished it in his mouth, and swallowed. The stream wasn't far, and he'd refill it once the sun was up. For now, he needed to rest.

He leaned back slowly against the cool stone behind him, taking care not to bump his sore arm. His thoughts drifted as he stared out through the small opening between the rocks. The trees swayed in rhythm, the sound of crickets filling the silence. No signs of movement. No more fangwolves, no shrieking birds, and no snorting boars.

Just stillness.

Lanz went over the fights in his head, not because he wanted to, but because he needed to. Every enemy had moved differently. The goblins had been messy but frantic. The wolves worked together. The boar had all power and no brakes. It wasn't just about reacting anymore—he was beginning to understand patterns, rhythms. Every encounter taught him something new about how to move, how to wait, when to commit.

He checked his system readout and gave a quiet nod to himself.

[EXP: 39 / 50]

Two more good fight might push him over.

He rested his hands on his knees and exhaled, not quite a sigh, just enough to let some tension out. Sleep was creeping in, heavy and slow. He adjusted his cloak, pulling it tighter around himself, and shifted his bag under his head.

The plan was simple, sleep, recover, and finish what he started tomorrow.

Just him, the gear on his back, and the goal waiting at sunrise.

End of Chapter 8.

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ALT SYSTEM — USER PROFILE: ZERO

Level: 5

EXP: 39 / 50

Next Unlock: Skill Upgrade Token (Level 6)

Global System Tracking: DISABLED

World Rank Association: UNLINKED

Stats:

STR: 4 | AGI: 4 | VIT: 3 | DEX: 1 | INT: 0 | WIS: 0

Skills:

[Basic Footwork Lv.2]

[Blade Control Lv.1]

[Parry Timing Lv.1]

[Feint Step Lv.1] (Active Skill)

[Reflex Sync Lv.1] (Passive Skill)

[Combat Awareness Lv.1] (Passive Skill)

Equipment:

Aged Blade Fragment (??? Rarity) (Bound)

Lightweight Chest Padding

Boots of Basic Mobility

Fingerless Gloves (Basic)

Starter Cloak: Faded Black

Training Ring (+1 VIT)

Goblin Dagger (Looted – Rusted, Jagged, Minor Bonus to DEX when equipped)