I wake up on the cold shore after falling from the waterfall. My head spin and my body hurt like it was crack glass. I blink many times before I can even see the light. The place feel… familiar? Big trees rise like towers, bushes thick as walls. Bugs fly around me—big butterflies, strange colors. Behind me the waterfall keep roaring like nothing happen.
My arm is bleeding hard. I tear a strip of my torn shirt and wrap it tight. The cloth turn red quick but at least it stop for now. Wind is cold, so cold it bite my skin. I take off the wet clothes, teeth clenching, and start looking for wood. I need fire.
I rub two dry sticks together fast, faster, till smoke rise. My face serious, heart racing, but finally a tiny flame show. "Yes," I whisper, feeding it leaves until it grow big enough to warm me.
The river near by flash with silver light. Fish—icy quick. I try to grab with chi but my dantian almost empty, the fish slide from my fingers like ghosts. I frown and think. From a huge tree I cut a branch, bend it, tie bark vines into a rough basket. Back to the river. This time I strike fast—one hand, fifth try—finally catch a fat fish.
I gut it with my broken sword and roast it on a stick over the fire. Grease pop and smell strong. I stare at the sky while it cooks. Dark again already. My clothes dry enough now, full of holes but still mine. I pull them on and curl beside the flame. Sleep come heavy.
Morning. The sun spill gold across the river and fresh air fill my lungs. I almost feel peace. Then the system voice tear the quiet:
> World Announcement!
Hell Difficulty.
First player to kill 100 goblins rewarded with +20 stat points.
Name: Unknown.
"F***…" I mutter. My heart sink. "How… someone killed one hundred goblins already? I only killed twenty four and almost died two times."
I clench my fists. Survive. That's all.
I climb a massive tree, pull down long vines, mind racing. Weapons. I need more. I lash a heavy stone to a branch, twist the vines tight. An axe. Rough but good enough.
The system ping again:
> Congratulations!
First player to craft a basic stone weapon.
Reward: +5 stat points.
I smirk a little. "Better than nothing." I call the status window. Numbers the same, but I push the five points into Strength. My body feel a little firmer, like the earth itself lend me weight.
Not done. I cut more vines, split more wood, tie them into a crude shield. Ugly but maybe save my life. I sling the axe across my back and walk deeper into the forest.
Hours pass. Then I see it—something strange moving in the tall grass. A buzzing bigger than thunder.
A huge bee. No, a king bee. Yellow fur shine like gold in the weak sun, purple eyes glowing like poison, claws long as knives.
I hold my breath, climb another tree, watch. Wait. Heart slow. When it hover near, I jump. Gravity pull me fast and I swing the stone axe with all my weight.
CRACK!
The blade cut deep. Blood—dark green—splatter everywhere, hot and thick. The bee scream, wings thrash, then still.
> System:
Congratulations! You have slain a King Bee.
Reward: +5 stat points.
I wipe the blood from my face with a shaky hand. "Still alive," I whisper, voice rough.
I slice open the creature's body, pulling out the long venomous sting, the glossy wings. Materials. Maybe useful. In old RPG games loot just appear, but here I must carve it myself.
"Whatever," I sigh, tying the sting to my belt. "The system is weird anyway."
The forest grows quiet again, only the soft hiss of the dying fire and the slow beat of my own heart.