Endless Leveling
Episode 2 – The Hunters Who Wouldn't Die
The wasteland was quiet again.
Slim stood among ash, gore, and broken metal, his crimson hair plastered to his face with black ichor and blood. His calm expression hadn't shifted once. Red eyes glowed faintly, steady and unshaken.
Above him, the sky still split with cracks, but the next wave didn't come crashing immediately. Instead, the rift widened, and from it stepped humans.
Not beasts. Not mindless abominations. Immortal hunters.
The Arrival of Hunters
There were five of them.
Each wore jagged cybernetic armor fused directly into their flesh, glowing runes etched across their necks and forearms like brands of servitude to some corporation. They carried weapons grown from their own bones — serrated blades, jagged whips of cartilage, metallic claws. Their faces were scarred, grinning with madness, eyes glowing with immortal hunger.
One of them spat black blood into the dirt and sneered.
"Fucking fresh meat. Level one bastard."
Slim didn't answer. He just stared, calm as ever, crimson hair drifting in the dry wind.
Another hunter cracked his knuckles, the sound sharp as snapping bones.
"I call first blood. Let's see how long this one screams before we tear him apart."
The others laughed, a chorus of cruel immortality.
They thought Slim was just another fighter. Another pawn stuck in the cycle.
They didn't know he was the only one who could end it.
The First Clash
The first hunter charged, blade-arm gleaming. He swung for Slim's throat, screaming, "Die, you skinny piece of shit!"
Slim's head tilted an inch. The blade missed. His hand rose like a ghost, palm pressing against the hunter's chest.
The glow flared.
The hunter's scream turned guttural, choking, as his ribs burst outward in a shower of gore. His chest cavity detonated, spraying blood across the dirt. His body collapsed in pieces, already twitching, already starting to reform.
"Cheap trick," another hunter snarled, baring his fangs. "He'll be back in seconds."
But Slim's eyes narrowed, glowing brighter.
"No, he won't."
The remains burned in crimson fire. The hunter's scream became something else — panicked, desperate, terrified. Then silence. Nothing left but ash.
For the first time in their eternal lives, the hunters realized what they were seeing.
One of them muttered, trembling:
"No… no, that's not possible… we're fucking immortal…"
Slim's voice was steady, calm, absolute.
"Not anymore."
The Gore of Real Death
The second hunter rushed in rage, his whip-arm cracking like thunder. It wrapped around Slim's torso, serrated edges biting into his skin. Slim didn't flinch, didn't grunt. His red eyes just locked onto the hunter's.
He yanked the whip forward.
The hunter stumbled into arm's reach. Slim's hand snapped up, grabbing his jaw. With a calm motion, he wrenched it sideways. The jaw snapped clean off, blood and teeth spraying across the dirt.
The hunter screamed, gurgling through the torn mess of his mouth. Slim's palm glowed again, pressing to his skull. The head exploded like a rotten melon, showering the ground in chunks of brain and bone.
[Level Up: 5]
The corpse tried to reform, twitching. Slim whispered, calm and final:
"Stay dead."
Ash.
The Brutal Frenzy
The three remaining hunters hesitated. For the first time in their immortal existence, they felt something alien crawl up their spines.
Fear.
"You son of a bitch," one growled, his voice shaking. "What the fuck are you?"
Slim stepped forward, dripping blood, his crimson hair swaying. His calm voice cut through the silence like a blade.
"I'm the end you thought didn't exist."
The three roared together, rushing him as one.
The first swung claws at his chest. Slim sidestepped, arm lashing out, tearing the man's throat open with a cybernetic claw of his own. Blood sprayed high. The hunter choked, clutching at the wound — and Slim slammed his fist through the man's spine, ripping his entire ribcage out the front.
[Level Up: 6]
The second drove a bone-spear into Slim's shoulder, impaling him clean through. Blood poured down his chest. Slim didn't flinch. Didn't scream. He grabbed the spear, shoved it deeper into himself — dragging the hunter closer.
The hunter's eyes widened.
"What the fuck—"
Slim tore his head off with his free hand, ripping it from his shoulders in a spray of arterial gore.
[Level Up: 7]
The body tried to twitch back to life. Slim stared coldly at it, his calm voice steady.
"Burn."
The corpse collapsed into ash.
The last hunter froze, backing away. His claws shook. His eyes darted between the ashes of his comrades and Slim's blood-soaked, calm face.
"You… you're not supposed to exist," he stammered. "Nobody ends us. Nobody—"
Slim stepped forward. His crimson hair clung to his bloodied cheek. His calm red eyes locked onto the hunter's.
"You're right. Nobody. Except me."
The hunter screamed and lunged. Slim met him halfway, slamming both hands into his chest. The explosion ripped his torso apart in one brutal burst, gore and cybernetics raining down in smoking chunks.
[Level Up: 8]
Ash.
Aftermath
Silence. Again.
Slim stood among the blood and dust, his chest still impaled with the jagged spear. He reached up calmly and ripped it free, tossing it aside. The wound sealed in seconds, his vampire body knitting flesh over cybernetic bone.
His crimson hair dripped with blood, his calm expression unchanged.
He whispered, softly enough only the dead could hear:
"Eight levels. Eight bodies. Endless more to go."
The wind carried away the ashes of the fallen hunters.
And in Slim's mind, the system whispered new truths.
⸻
System Update
[Level: 8]
[Skill Unlocked: Crimson Execution – Ability to permanently burn immortals into ash]
[Evolution State Detected: Unlimited potential. First threshold approaching…]
Slim closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the pulse of his growing power. His voice was calm, but beneath it was something colder.
"I'm not just climbing levels. I'm breaking the whole fucking system."
The Next Wave
The sky cracked again. Louder this time. Wider.
And through the rift came an army — hundreds of immortals, monsters, hunters, and vampires twisted into horrors of cybernetics and flesh. They screamed curses, weapons raised, eager to tear Slim apart.
But among them… some hesitated. Some had seen what he'd done.
Slim stood drenched in gore, his calm crimson eyes glowing brighter than ever. His red hair swayed, blood still dripping down the strands.
And as the army descended, Slim whispered, voice steady, brutal, and unshakable:
"Let's see how many of you fuckers I can put in the dirt tonight."