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CH. 3

  Ch 3

  Alone and free to act as he pleased, Matt didn’t waste time creating distance from the others; instead, he focused on scanning his surroundings and formulating a quick plan. He knew that without a weapon he was vulnerable, so he had to craft one immediately. As he looked around, he spotted several rocks about the size of his head that appeared likely to shatter upon impact. Without hesitation, he picked them up and began striking them together as hard as he could. The violent impacts splintered the stones into several sharp-edged shards—primitive cutting tools that promised to do far more damage than his bare fists.

  Unfortunately, the noise he generated proved to be a grave miscalculation. No sooner had he pocketed the fourth shard meeting his requirements than his first threat materialized. Emerging from the shadows was a creature barely three feet tall with dull gray skin, which charged at him while shrieking at the top of its lungs as if that were a winning tactic. Yet what immediately drew Matt’s attention was the massive club clutched in the creature’s hand—a club so large it seemed almost out of proportion with its diminutive wielder. In a split-second decision, Matt flung one of the larger rock pieces straight at the creature’s face. Like a seasoned batter, the monster swung its club and inadvertently sent the rock hurtling back in his direction; only Matt’s instinctive movement allowed him to narrowly avoid a disastrous collision. The tree behind him wasn’t as lucky—a gaping hollow, just large enough to fit a head, had formed where the rock struck it.

  Had Matt paused to witness the aftermath of his throw, he might have hesitated before closing the distance with the creature, even as he gripped one of his newly fashioned blades. Although the impact had been impressive, the laws of physics were unforgiving, and the tiny monster couldn’t control its momentum after swinging its club with such force. The creature tumbled through the air, spinning three times—a disorienting sight that reminded Matt of a certain devil that spun wildly in the cartoons of his childhood. But there was no time for reflection; survival demanded that he trust his instincts and act immediately. So, when he finally felt the hot rush of blood on his hands as he embedded the stone in the monster’s back, he experienced a momentary shock, his senses numbed as he watched the creature struggle for its last breaths. It was only after the creature had lain still for several seconds that Matt’s attention turned to the transparent screen, that has reappeared displaying new text.

  Monster killed: Level 3 goblin berserker.

  Base experience multiplied by three.

  Awarding 90 experience.

  Current experience to next level 90/1000.

  Kill more things and gain more power if you wish to pursue a path of bloodshed.

  Matt wished he had someone to answer the myriad questions raised by the information on the screen—the existence of goblins, the mechanics of the multiplier, and even the cryptic message at the end. Yet one word kept echoing in his mind: Path. It had appeared on his status screen along with his initial numbers, and it was also mentioned in several of the descriptions of the weapons. Whatever it meant, Matt felt it was key to understanding this new reality; however, he had no time to dwell on it as he knew he needed to move quickly.

  In the brief 20 seconds since the goblin’s arrival, Matt was convinced more were on their way, though he wasn’t sure from which direction. Acting on instinct, he quickly scrambled up a nearby tree just as the first of three additional goblins appeared. Each goblin emerged from a different direction, making Matt feel that he would have been cornered had he tried to outrun the first. Observing their coordinated interactions, it was evident that they were accustomed to working together; they seemed to be bickering over something that had just transpired. Had Matt not left the deceased goblin lying on its back, he was sure they would have immediately discovered the stone buried three inches into its body. Yet, strangely, they hesitated to touch anything and instead began arguing as his auto-translate skill kicked in.

  "You stay and we get tracker."

  "I ain't staying alone—if I do, I'll be the next one dead."

  "We all go then, but you tell tracker why animals eat body when we get back."

  One argument followed the next, making Matt roll his eyes silently. His irritation only grew until the tan woman from earlier charged in, flanked by five other women who attempted to catch the goblins by surprise. If they had managed to close the distance to within five feet, their ambush might have succeeded, but the goblins’ snickering made it clear that this had been their objective all along. The axe in the tan woman's hand struck a club, sending it flying into the trees near Matt’s hiding spot. An arrow was deflected, and the other four women froze as the tan woman was knocked over when a club jabbed into her gut. With a heavy sigh, Matt began to make his escape, only to suddenly freeze as the goblins began to speak.

  "Seems we found some breeders to use."

  He didn’t know why, but the thought of leaving anyone to such a fate was worse than if he expected them to die. Perhaps it was because death marked the end of all suffering, whereas he understood that an endless existence of misery awaited those left behind. Even if they eventually escaped, the trauma would linger with them for the rest of their lives. He saw Apricity's face as she spoke about the few times she feared it might happen to her, her eyes darkened by the haunting memories.

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  Cursing under his breath, Matt moved from one tree to another as stealthily as he could. Ahead, six women struggled desperately to escape, having found themselves surrounded by three goblins. Matt puzzled over why they were faring so poorly when he had dispatched his adversaries in mere seconds. It became apparent that their movements were clumsy, as they lost their weapons one after another. Despite the semblance of skill, likely gained from wielding their chosen weapons, their efforts were awkward. It reminded him of inexperienced fools who had never been in a real fight, attempting to gang up on him. To these women, the goblins were simply too formidable.

  With this realization, Matt positioned himself above the nearest of the taunting goblins, drawing another of his stone blades before dropping silently from the tree. The goblin, only three feet tall, was an easy target. Matt landed in a crouch, driving his blade into the creature just below the neck. He didn’t pause to confirm its death, immediately charging toward the goblin on the left. As he approached, he pulled out his second-to-last stone blade. Just then, a rock hurled by the tan-skinned woman struck the goblin in the head, creating the opening Matt needed to plunge his stone weapon into its chest. The last goblin, sensing danger, turned to flee, but Matt swiftly charged forward. Dodging the goblin's frantic, spinning swing, he closed in and killed it as well, ensuring the women were safe once more.

  Blood spattered across his clothes as he panted, while the six women regarded him with a mix of complex emotions. He shared those same conflicted feelings, knowing he’d only earned 39 experience points from the fight after noticing that the system had divided the spoils evenly among all present. To him, it was an absolute farce. Although he recognized that the six women deserved a share, he firmly believed he had done most of the work in actually dispatching them. The very least the system could do was grant him a bonus for coming to their rescue. Lost in these thoughts, Matt barely registered the voice of the tan woman as she finally spoke.

  “Thanks for that.”

  “Whatever,” Matt replied with a shake of his head, knowing she wasn’t the one in charge of the experience allocation. “I take it you all ended up splitting with the other guys.”

  “Ugh, don’t talk about those idiots.”

  “I take it a few of them couldn’t stop themselves from thinking they’d be heroes just because they were surrounded by a group of women—”

  “I thought I said don’t talk about those idiots.”

  “Sorry, but splitting things by sex makes it obvious that most of those guys are probably trash. Not that I’m saying any of you are much better. Really, what were you thinking, charging in when you could have let an arrow test the waters first?”

  “You know she only has 20 arrows and has to recover them after each fight.”

  “No, I didn’t. Are they at least indestructible?”

  “No clue. But whatever’s happening, it feels like hard mode.”

  “That’s life—nothing but hard mode if you weren’t born into wealth.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “No one looks like you and acts as if they’re a natural leader unless they’re wealthier than everyone they know and accustomed to having servants around.”

  “Oh, and what would you know about such things?”

  “Nothing. It was just a guess that you just confirmed. I only know someone who deals with your type all the time, and since that person is one of the only two people I speak with more than once a year, I figured you fit the bill.”

  “What kind of life do you lead if you only talk to two people on a daily basis?”

  “I go months without seeing anyone. I live alone in a place with no roads—only your own two feet can get you there. I hike out twice a year at most, and someone only comes in to check on me about six times a year. Now, learn how to fight, because I won’t be there next time.”

  Matt had just turned and was about to leave when another woman called out, "Wait, please let me come with you—I promise I'll follow your directions as best as I can."

  She was small, and when Matt looked into her eyes he could see that terror gripped her; it appeared as though she was struggling to hide behind her unruly brown bangs. He remembered how, moments earlier, she had frantically waved her staff around as if her life depended on it. Just when he was about to deny her request, he recalled what had been written about the staff.

  "What path are you planning to walk?" he asked.

  "Um, I don’t really know," she replied hesitantly. "I chose the staff because I felt that supporting someone would be easier than being the one to fight."

  "Why don’t you want to fight?" Matt pressed.

  "Um, I’m not fierce. I know myself well enough to admit that when conflict arises, I just run. That’s why I’ve always been a loner—I’ve run from everyone the moment they showed even a hint of anger."

  "So now you plan to run from these other five, hoping that I’ll never get angry with you?" he challenged.

  "Um, well—" she began, her voice trailing off.

  "Let me make one thing clear before you respond," Matt interjected. "I’m not interested in any drama. If you follow me, I’m equally likely to ignore you as I am to help you survive. I have deep authority issues, and to me, my ideas are always the best until proven otherwise."

  Matt could see her trembling, her wide eyes fixed on him. He even noticed one of the other four women, who had remained silent until now, clearly on the verge of speaking when he raised his hand to silence her. Though none of the five women outside the tan-haired blond were unattractive, in Matt’s eyes they paled in comparison. It was obvious that none of them were regulars at the gym; and unlike the blond, none of them had their nails done—a detail that made them more appealing to him, as the blond exuded nothing but high-maintenance vibes. However, this aesthetic preference mattered little as the short brunet finally spoke.

  "I’m fine with all of that—if you promise that you won’t ignore my need to survive or leave me alone to face the dangers here," she said softly.

  "Fix yourself, or the next person who comes along to save your life will take full advantage of you," Matt retorted. "One day, I’ll allow all six of you to stick with me for an entire day while you get a handle on things. If nothing else, you all need to swing your weapons around a few times, considering I was only fighting with some broken rocks and still did better than you."

  Already regretting his harsh words, Matt listened as the tan woman spoke, urgency lacing her tone.

  "How did you even manage to move like that? Is it something about picking the fist option from earlier?" she inquired.

  "I’m not here to answer yours—or anyone else’s—questions," he snapped. "What you saw was simply me silencing my doubts and letting my instincts drive my movements. Just so you know, I was fine with letting you all die, but not with what it looked like the goblins intended to do to you. Now, get your weapons and follow me."

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