A low snarl rumbled up from the floorboards as hot breath hissed through the door's splintered gap, each push harder than the last, as if the thing on the other side was trying to tear its way through wood and will alike.
Miles tensed, his fingers coiling around the tactical knife's grip so tight his knuckles blazed white.
His phone screen flared to life once again.
[Cursed identified – (Level 1 Cursed) Threat level: Low]
The door exploded inward with a deafening splinter crash, and Miles froze staring straight into the hollow, bloodshot eyes of a cannibalistic creature that seemed stitched together from raw meat and broken bone.
Its body glistened slick with crimson, deep gashes carving paths across torso and arms; flesh hung in tattered strips like wet cloth, bones jutting at impossible angles as if gravity itself had forgotten how to hold it together.
The stench hit him like a wave of rot and iron, acrid enough to burn his throat, overwhelming enough to blur the edges of his vision.
His stomach lurched, and he clamped a hand over his mouth to cage the bile rising fast in his throat.
No time to hesitate. The Cursed let out a guttural growl that scraped like stone on stone, then launched itself at him, claws splayed like daggers, jaws gaping wide enough to swallow his head whole.
Miles dove sideways, rolling across rough floorboards that bit into his skin as the creature slammed into the wall behind him, leaving dark streaks of blood that seeped into the wood like ink into paper.
He scrambled to his feet, knife raised high, his hands shook like leaves in a storm, but his grip was as steady as bedrock.
The app in his pocket glowed warm against his hip.
[Tutorial Tip – Aim for the head to neutralize quickly.]
The Cursed spun, its movements jerky and wrong like a puppet with half its strings cut.
When it lunged again, Miles was ready. He stepped aside in the space between heartbeats, bringing the knife down in a swift, silver arc that buried deep into the side of its skull.
A wet crunch echoed through the room. The creature went limp, collapsing to the floor with a heavy thud that shook dust from the ceiling.
Miles staggered back, dropping the knife as his eyes fixed on the body. Blood splattered his shirt in dark, jagged patterns; his hands trembled uncontrollably, as if the violence had seeped into his bones.
But his phone wouldn't be silent, buzzing like a live thing in his pocket:
[Cursed Kill – Detected.]
[Tutorial Mission 2: Completed.]
[You have faced and defeated your first Cursed encounter.]
[Tutorial Beginner Gift Box Unlocked – Open.]
Miles stared at the screen, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
Even after what he'd just lived through, part of him still couldn't accept the app was real. Still, his finger moved, less hesitant this time, and he tapped Open.
Instead of a simple item list, the screen bloomed with golden light.
[Congratulations – You have proven worthy of the True Beginner Gift Box.]
Confusion furrowed his brow as he read the words aloud. "True Beginner Gift Box? Then what was the first one, a support giftbox? A taste of what's possible?"
Shaking off the question, he pulled up the reward and his jaw went slack.
Item Received: SIG Sauer M17 (Coyote) + 5 x 21-round Extended Magazines
Before he could blink, the weight of the firearm materialized in his palms; It was a cool metal that felt like it had been forged just for him, solid and heavy as a piece of the earth itself. He nearly dropped it, fumbling to find the grip as magazines clattered to the floor like falling stars.
Miles had never touched a real gun in his life. He stared from the weapon's gleaming barrel to the glowing screen, his mind racing.
If a knife had felt like stepping into a dream, this was like diving headfirst into another world entirely.
Two more notifications rippled across the screen.
[Weapon Tutorial Unlocked: Secure your safety to begin Basic Firearm Handling Training.]
Miles nodded slowly, his focus sharpening to a razor's edge. First, he had to build his walls high enough to keep the darkness out while he learned to wield its tools.
He threw his weight against his heavy study desk, then his bed frame, shoving them against the broken door wedging every piece of furniture he could find into place until the barricade stood like a small fortress.
Once secure, he lay back on his bed and let his eyes drift shut, ignoring another buzz from his phone as sleep pulled him down into its depths.
[Weapon Tutorial: Begin.]