Day 17 and 18.
Ethan holed up in his shelter for these two days. Outside, the forest buzzed with life, but inside it was quiet, just the smell of herbs and the steady rhythm of his work.
He spent most of his time breaking down the materials he'd gathered: beast parts, plants, anything useful. With calm precision, he crushed herbs, melted resins, and measured out liquids drop by drop, carefully restocking his potions and explosives.
He only ventured out a couple of times—once to throw together a simple meal over the campfire, and once to wash his grime-covered clothes down by the river.
(Because yes, even in the middle of a forest training arc, you've still got to do laundry. Wilderness or not, you're still human.)
Inside the shelter, the air was heavy with a weird mix of smells—burnt grass, sour berries, and a sharp, metallic tang that stuck in your throat. It wasn't exactly pleasant, but to Ethan, it smelled like progress.
He wasn't just throwing ingredients together and hoping for the best. Every step was deliberate. Every rare piece of plant or beast part had a purpose. No waste. No shortcuts.
Meanwhile, Mary was pacing outside, getting more agitated by the minute. Eventually, she lost it.
"Why are you holed up in there like some scared little rabbit?" she shouted. "Go hunt something! You won't get another chance like this to level up!"
Her voice echoed through the shelter, sharp and annoyed. But Ethan didn't flinch. He didn't even glance her way.
He knew Mary too well. She wasn't angry because she felt he was slacking or that he was wasting the opportunity. She was just bored out of her mind. After missing the last forest run, she was itching to go exploring, and now all this waiting was eating away at her.
"Oh, really?" Ethan replied, voice dry with sarcasm. He was hunched over a makeshift counter, peering at a glowing screen in front of him
"I need to restock my supplies. Running around without healing or explosive just because you want to stretch your legs doesn't sound like a smart idea."
Mary rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "Then why are you staring at the shop window like you're window-shopping at a mall instead of actually making something?"
Ethan paused. Then slowly turned to her, eyebrows raised, like she'd just unlocked a hidden achievement.
"Wait a second... did you just say 'shop'?" he asked, a wide grin forming on his face.
Mary blinked, already regretting opening her mouth. "It was a slip of tongue! Don't you dare—"
But it was too late. Ethan burst out laughing, full and loud, the kind of laugh that echoed off the trees outside.
Mary groaned, clearly regretting saying anything. "Shut up! It was just a word!"
But her protests only made Ethan laugh harder, nearly doubling over as he tried and failed to calm down.
After a minute or two, Ethan finally caught his breath, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye as the laughter faded. He pointed toward a bubbling pot in the corner of the shelter, still grinning.
"I already set the stove. Herbs are boiling, everything's in motion," he said. "I'm just checking the shop while I wait. No point in sucking my thumbs to kill time, right?"
Mary let out an exaggerated sigh and walked over, curiosity getting the better of her. She leaned in to see what he was looking at. Ethan was scrolling through the system shop lazily, half-distracted, until he suddenly froze.
Mary noticed immediately. "Found something?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
Ethan didn't reply. His eyes were locked onto a particular item. Something about it had completely stolen his attention.
Name: SEVRUS
Type: Soul-Class Pill
Grade: Rare
Access Level: User-Specific (Dual-Soul Signature Required)
Cost: 50,000 System Points
▸ DESCRIPTION:
A specialized capsule that permanently separates cohabiting souls, generating an independent physical vessel for the second soul. Once used, both entities will exist as distinct individuals, each with their own body.
Ethan leaned back slightly, his expression shifting from playful to serious in an instant. "Is the description real?" he asked quietly.
Mary glanced over it again, then gave a casual shrug. "Yep. It's real. Why, you want it or something?"
He frowned, tapping the side of the screen thoughtfully. "Why's it so cheap? Something like that should be legendary-tier or something. Are there defects? Side effects? Hidden curses waiting to bite me in the ass?"
Mary dropped onto the floor beside him, arms behind her head like it was no big deal. "Nah, no risks, no tricks. It's just... nobody wants that stuff. You need two souls for it to work. And well, last I checked, people don't walk around with spares. It's not like they're chickens you can pick up at the market. You need to be born like that."
Ethan kept staring at the listing. His fingers hovered over the purchase option.
"I want it," he said flatly.
Mary blinked. "You serious?"
"Yeah. I'm sure."
She rolled her eyes but made a lazy wave with her hand. A flash of light shimmered in the air, and a small wooden box dropped into her palm like it had been there the whole time. She handed it over.
Ethan opened it slowly. Inside, nestled in black velvet, was a small pill, smooth and dark as midnight. Fine silver veins crawled across its surface, constantly shifting and changing shape. Oddly enough, it cast no shadow, even under the glow of the shelter's light.
"Well, that's it," Mary said with a mock bow. "Bet's over. No refunds. Don't come crying to me if it backfires."
Ethan didn't reply. He just stared at the pill for a long moment, his face unreadable. The playful air had vanished.
Mary watched him carefully. There was something distant in his eyes now, like he wasn't really here anymore.
"Ethan, are you—?"
A sharp whistle interrupted her. Steam hissed from the pot in the corner.
Ethan stood up and slipped the box into his storage. "Work time. Don't bother me. Go explore by yourself or something. Shoo, shoo."
Mary frowned. "Hmph. Fine. Do whatever you want," she muttered, flowing towards the forest outside.
As she vanished beyond the curtain of mist, Ethan returned to his brewing. The noise of the forest felt far away now. The weight of the pill, even tucked out of sight, lingered in his hand like a ghost.
He glanced at the pot, then at the empty seat beside him.
A soft sigh slipped out.
"Looks like I'll be seeing them sooner than I thought..."
Then, without another word, he got back to work, as if trying to forget a harsh past.
Day 19.
After two days of nonstop brewing, mixing, and back-breaking labor (seriously, his spine was about ready to file a complaint), Ethan finally had more than enough supplies to head back into the wild. He has restocked all his healing potions—from basic ones that could barely heal a fever to powerful ones that could seal wounds in seconds. But this time, he had more than just the basics.
Now in his arsenal were potions that let him vanish from a beast's senses. Buff potions to temporarily make him faster, stronger, sharper. Even fire-resistance brews that would let him wade through flames without breaking a sweat.
Armed to the teeth, Ethan stepped out of the shelter just before sunrise, the mist still curling low around the forest floor. He felt good. Confident. Like he could finally make up for the time he'd spent cooped up.
And the forest didn't disappoint.
That day, he fought a staggering total of sixty-three beasts. That's right. Sixty-three. Eight F-rank, fifteen E-rank, thirty-five D-rank, and five C-rank. If any seasoned hunter heard an eighteen-year-old pulled that off in one day, they'd laugh in your face. Maybe even check you for fever and ask what kind of drugs you are on. It just seemed impossible.
But Ethan wasn't just any teen. He had something no one else did— real battle experience.
The high-tier beasts and monsters—S-rank and up—were more or less on the same level. Strong, smart, and the kind of threats you didn't want to clash with. But the lower-tier beasts? Yeah, not quite.
Compared to the monsters he used to fight in his past life, the beasts were honestly kind of pathetic. Most of them relied on raw instinct, lacking the strength or intelligence to put up any real fight.
Monsters, even the weaker ones, had a nasty habit of being tougher, sneakier, and a whole lot deadlier than anything he'd seen from beasts of the same rank. So really, this wasn't anything new to him. If anything, it felt a little underwhelming. What others might've seen as a dangerous mission, for the current him who regained much of his senses back, it was just another day. He'd fought worse. Way worse. That's why none of it felt as hard as before.
His body was now listening, moving the way he wants. Although still way weaker than his peak physical shape, he is still leagues above his weak and untrained self.
Still, even with the edge his experience gave him, those numbers should've left him bruised, battered, maybe even unconscious, like the last time he tried to fight so many beasts. But not this time.
Thanks to his stash of nearly a hundred vials worth of C-tier healing potions, around fifty B-rank and ten A-rank ones, he was practically unstoppable. Every time he needed healing, he'd pop a potion and be good as new within seconds. He did not use them frugally anymore.
Mary, for once, kept her quiet. Technically, Ethan had done nothing wrong. He healed before heading out, kept himself alive, and didn't take stupid risks. So, she approved the method and let him do as he pleased.
But mostly, she was too busy enjoying the world again after being stuck in the shelter for two whole days.
She didn't exactly keep quiet. She just stopped talking to Ethan. That didn't stop her from bossing him around, dragging him toward places she found interesting, or acting like a royal explorer claiming land. She'd poke around trees, demand detours to sparkly rocks, and toss complaints in the air like flower petals.
She acted like this during previous days too, on several occasion. But this time, no one could stop her. Two days being kept in the shelter and a week in her own world is probably more quiet time than she can handle.
Ethan mostly ignored her. He was in the zone, moving from battle to battle like a machine. But even he had to admit that it felt good to stretch his legs, to fight and win, and to feel prepared for once.
Tomorrow might be harder. But today? Today was a win.
As the sun fell below the trees and painted the sky with a mixture of orange and red, Ethan finished wiping the blood off his blade. Around him, the ground was soaked in dark crimson, the remains of eight D-rank beasts stretched like broken statues. Most of the bodies were sliced cleanly—neat, surgical cuts. Only one, a bulky creature, was charred black and still smoldering.
"Now that was a productive day," Mary said cheerfully, floating just above the carnage with her arms crossed, legs swinging in the air.
Ethan gave her a satisfied nod and ran his sleeve across his blade, cleaning the last streaks of blood before sheathing it. His eyes were sharp, alert.
Mary's expression shifted to a teasing grin. "So... you sensed them too, huh?"
Ethan didn't respond with words, just a smirk. That was enough.
A gruff voice echoed from the trees. "Well, well, what do we have here?" A stocky, scar-faced man stepped out of the bush with a massive axe on his shoulder. His grin was the kind that made your skin crawl. "Looks like someone wandered a bit too far from mommy and daddy."
Another bandit appeared behind him, licking the edge of his blade with theatrical flair. "How 'bout you hand over the rhino corpses and we'll send you to join your folks in the afterlife."
A third emerged, dragging a rusty scythe behind him. "Careful, brothers. He looks like he might wet himself. Wouldn't wanna ruin the loot. HAHAHA."
One by one, four more crept into view, forming a loose circle around Ethan. They all had that same sleazy bravado, tossing out cliché threats and mocking laughter like they were rehearsing for a bad play.
{I mean, they were basically all death flags. Why do people do this? Don't they fell weird?}
Mary floated off to the side, one brow raised. "Ugh. Do they hear themselves? Is this what edgy middle school theater sounds like in this earth? If you are bandits, act like one. Why are you throwing cheesy lines?"
Ethan stayed calm, hands relaxed at his sides as he mentally communicated with Mary. "They're bandits, alright. Since they've made it this far into the outer zones, they're not amateurs either. "
Mary rolled her eyes. "And if they're so skilled, why are they still acting like scums, robbing people in the woods? Losers."
He gave a slight chuckle under his breath. "They're just acting tough. Desperate types like this always do. Honestly? I'm more surprised I went this long without running into any human."
Mary clapped her hands, floating backward. "Well then! Come on, Ethan. Give me a good show."
The leader stepped forward, puffing out his chest, clearly ready to launch into some long, threatening speech. But he never got the chance.
Before a single word left his mouth, Ethan moved.
A flick of the wrist, and a hail of flame-tipped arrows burst from thin air, whistling through the air with speed. They struck the leader dead-on, flames engulfing him mid-sentence. He didn't even get to scream. He just dropped, eyes wide with disbelief, body thudding to the forest floor.
Panic erupted among the rest.
"What the hell—!" one shouted, drawing his sword.
Ethan didn't let him finish.
He was already moving, sliding between trees with speed. He struck like a phantom. Each step precise, each blow fatal. One by one, the bandits fell. A burst of fire here, a clean throat slash there. The last two tried to run. Big mistake.
Ethan extended a hand, and a storm of fire launched out, engulfing them whole. Their screams echoed briefly, then silence.
Mary floated down with an exaggerated yawn, arms crossed. "Seriously? That's it? What happened to making things interesting? What happen to giving me a good show?"
Ethan's voice was quiet, but cold. "What did you expect? They prey on the weak, but collapse the moment someone stronger shows up. You can't expect a real fight from cowards."
Suddenly a glowing screen appeared from the dead bandits bodies. He went to the closest one and saw the following:
Do you want to steal the following ability?
Name: Physical Enhancement.
Rank: D.
Description: Allows the user to increase their overall physical capabilities for a short amount of time.
He saw that all the other ones had the same type of window, with a different ability showing. The rest of the abilities were all E-rank, mostly battle oriented.
"Do you wanna steal their ability?" Mary asked, clearly skeptical.
"And lose my free chance for a bunch of abilities weaker than mine? No way." Ethan said in a scolding voice.
"Well, why did you take a look at each one of them then? I thought you were gonna take my advice and not attack that Fenric guy for now." Mary teased.
"Then you have thought too much." Ethan replied coldly.
He didn't look back. He didn't flinch. Even though it was his first time killing people in this life, not a single drop of hesitation clung to him.
As he gathered the beast corpses and what little loot the bandits carried, Mary trailed behind, still muttering complaints under her breath.
They left the clearing as the last rays of sunlight faded. Ethan didn't say another word. He didn't need to.
The message was clear.
He was no one's prey.