The thing moved like a bad decision—sudden, fast, and committed.
William slid into the stance the System had burned into his muscles: knees soft, blade low, shoulders square. The goblin skittered along the aisle between two leaning towers of books, claws ticking against marble. Its eyes were set too wide and too low. Its grin was a rip.
He struck first. A low slash for its belly, enough to test distance. Steel bit, shallow, and black ichor splattered across the floor.
The goblin shrieked and sprang sideways, ricocheting off a shelf like a spring cut loose. Too quick for textbook forms.
It feinted left, darted right. William pivoted, knife tracking, and carved another shallow line across its arm. Good. Clean. But the creature didn't slow. Its laugh was a tear ripped across the world.
"Come on, then," he muttered.
It obliged.
The goblin hopped to a lower shelf, claws scrabbling, then launched for his face. William ducked, knife raking its ribs on instinct. The goblin twisted in midair, landed wrong, then corrected without pause—like a rat that had learned how to be a cat.
Okay. Not just fast. Adaptable.
William grabbed the nearest book with his off hand—a heavy hardback the size of a brick—and hurled it. It smacked the goblin's head. Not damage, but surprise.
He rushed in. Knife low, heel driving, he cut across the thigh, pivoted, slashed the calf. The goblin shrieked, staggered—then came through the pain, crashing chest-first into him with more strength than its wiry body should hold.
William slammed backward into a shelf. Books rained down. The goblin clung, breath rancid, claws raking. Its mouth opened.
And then the teeth hit.
They clamped onto his forearm, needle rows piercing skin. White light detonated in his skull. His hand spasmed, almost losing the knife.
Don't freeze. Move.
He slammed the goblin into the shelf. More books toppled, thumping around them. The creature chewed deeper, sawing, worrying like a dog. William stabbed for its neck, but the blade only grazed. Again—glancing. The goblin twisted, jaws locked, tearing.
"Fine," he hissed. "Try this."
He yanked his arm back, shoved his other fist forward as it lunged, and rammed his knuckles deep into its maw. The jaws snapped down on his hand, pain screaming, but now its mouth was full.
Knife-hand free.
He drove the blade upward through its palate. Steel scraped teeth, then cartilage. The goblin gagged, clawed, tried to wrench away. William forced his fist deeper, knife and hand together, until steel grated against bone.
The goblin spasmed once, twice—then went limp.
He shoved it off. His arm was punctured, his hand bleeding, but he was alive. Black blood spread in a halo on the marble. He leaned against the shelf, breathing hard.
The System chimed.
[Enemy Defeated: Goblin (Lesser)]
EXP Gained: 25
Loot Acquired: Goblin Key (Uncommon)
[Level Progression Unlocked]
Level: 1
EXP: 25 / 100
A key clinked to the floor where the corpse lay. Bone shaft, iron teeth. He picked it up, turning it. A key meant locks. Locks meant doors. Doors meant choices.
Blood dripped down his arm. Four punctures ringed his forearm like a cruel bracelet. Not fatal, but bad enough.
He scanned shelves, stomach groaning in warning, and spotted a thin red-spined manual: Basic First Aid. He tore into it, the taste antiseptic and bitter, like iodine chased with chalky aspirin. Pale blue light bloomed in his head, cool and sharp.
[Book Consumed: Basic First Aid Manual]
+1 Mental
Skill Gained: Medicine (Basic)
Knowledge snapped into place: bandages, irrigation, splinting. His body knew it. He steadied, ripped strips from his poncho, and bound the arm tight. Pain throbbed steady, but manageable.
The System hunger growled warningly. Too close to full. One more book and he'd be sick.
He knelt, gathering scattered volumes. That's when he saw it.
Not huge. Not small. Bound in black leather, embossed with a crooked sigil: two stars, overlapping wrong. The title whispered: An Introduction to Occult Practices.
His stomach cramped. His pulse quickened.
He hesitated, then dragged his tongue across the cover.
Cold licorice and iron washed over his tongue. Behind his eyes, smoky violet and glacial blue coiled together, then flickered into something else: a sensation like static humming in the marrow of his bones. Not knowledge—potential.
His breath caught.
Magic.
He shut the book quickly, heart hammering, and slid it into his pack. Later, when he had room. When he wasn't shaking.
Deeper in the stacks, something scraped again—heavier than claws, slower than skittering.
The goblin hadn't been alone.
Status: William Page
Age: 18
System: Unbound Bookeater
Class: None
Level: 1
EXP: 25 / 100
Strength: 9
Speed: 10
Durability: 9
Mental: 12
Social: 5
Luck: 4
Traits:
– Hunger for Knowledge
– Synesthetic Cognition
– Rational Mind
Skills:
– Survival (Basic)
– Mycology (Basic)
– Cooking (Basic)
– Knife Use (Basic)
– Herb Lore (Basic)
– Knife Combat (Basic)
– Medicine (Basic)
Inventory:
– Knife (Common, Durability 92%)
– Trail Mix (Mundane, 340g)
– Water Bottle (Common, Empty, Durability 100%)
– Paracord (Common, 25 ft, Durability 100%)
– Firestarter (Common, Durability 87%)
– Poncho (Common, Durability 90%)
– Goblin Key (Uncommon)
– An Introduction to Occult Practices (Common)