Noir had just left Seldom behind.
Before heading out, he distributed all five of his available stat points straight into Agility, pushing his speed and dodge rating to a new level. His steps were lighter, his reactions sharper.
The sun filtered through the forest of Seldom in golden patches, but the ground remained quiet and tense. As Noir ventured deeper, he saw other players in groups, grinding mobs. Some parties were locked in chaotic fights, slashing at goblins or fending off waves of fanged wolves. Many of them were clearly struggling.
But Noir didn't stop.
He walked right past the crowds, his hood up, daggers glinting with the faintest sheen of poison from previous fights. He had no time for teamwork. He had no interest in carrying anyone. This mission was his alone.
Then—he found them again.
Cursed Humans. A small group, blue name tags flickering like beacons.
He narrowed his eyes, crouched low, and swept forward like a phantom. He didn't hold back.
He lured ten of them into a clearing, backed into a dead-end rock wall, then turned to face them all.
"Let's dance."
As the cursed humans rushed in, Noir activated everything in sequence. Swift Step burst him forward, blurring past the first two. He pivoted, daggers slicing into rotting flesh. Blood sprayed into the leaves.
Then he combined his cooldowns again—Critical Dash Slash triggered, and Noir vanished for a split second. He reappeared mid-air above the cluster, slashing down in six rapid strikes.
[CRITICAL HIT – 152]
[CRITICAL HIT – 178]
[CRITICAL HIT – 201]
In just seven seconds, ten cursed humans lay scattered in the dirt, twitching and fading into particles.
Noir grinned, then kept going.
He farmed like a machine.
For 30 minutes, Noir repeated the same deadly cycle—lure, burst, sweep, vanish. He mastered the tempo of the forest. The cursed humans started feeling like dummies rather than monsters. But still, they didn't make it easy. Some cornered him, slashed at his cloak, forced him to drink potions mid-fight. He sweated through his combos, bleeding from shallow cuts and scraping cooldown windows with perfect timing.
Then—something dropped.
A faint blue flicker beneath the last fallen cursed human.
It shimmered like glass before settling.
[RARE SKILL DROP: BACKSTAB]
[DROP RATE: 0.01%]
Noir stopped in his tracks. "No way…" He stepped forward, picked up the orb, and the description appeared instantly.
[Skill: Backstab]
Type: Assassin-exclusive Active Skill
Description: Instantly blinks behind a nearby enemy within a 5-meter radius. Guarantees a 100% critical hit with +250% weapon damage.
Cooldown: 12 seconds
Noir was stunned. "This… this shouldn't even be dropping this early."
He didn't think twice.
He learned the skill.
[Skill Learned: Backstab]
Just as he closed the system window, another cursed human stumbled out of the trees—alone, unaware of what waited.
Noir let it spot him.
Then, in a heartbeat, he activated Backstab.
His body vanished with a violet flicker and reappeared behind the zombie. His dagger was already buried in the thing's spine.
[BACKSTAB – 100% CRIT – 421 Damage]
The cursed human didn't scream. It folded instantly, dead before it could turn.
Noir stood over the body, breathing steady, hands gripping his blades.
"This is it," he muttered. "This is what an Assassin is supposed to feel like."
He fought for another thirty minutes straight. The cycle repeated—lure, bait, burst. With his Shadow Cloak making his footsteps almost silent, and Swift Step cutting his movement time in half, he was now a blur of steel and blood.
Any party who would've passed by would've mistaken him for a high-level solo player.
But this was just the beginning.
And the forest had only started whispering his name.
After clearing out the area, Noir wiped his blade and looked around. He was done warming up.
He ventured deeper into the forest. The trees thickened, the fog became heavier.
Then he heard it.
Screams.
Steel clashing. A bright flash of magic.
He turned his head.
Just ahead was a party of five, struggling to take down a Mini Boss—a pink-tagged Homo Goblin, Level 2. It was twice the size of a regular goblin, its skin a raw pink, eyes white and wild.
Noir crouched low behind a bush, watching.
The party was disorganized. Their tank, a Bagi, rushed in without backup—and paid the price. The Homo Goblin leapt from a tree and smashed his skull in with a jagged club.
[Bagi – DEAD]
Noir narrowed his eyes. In Upraised, if at least one party member was alive, the dead wouldn't respawn yet. The party was trapped in a fight-or-die loop.
The Mage casted fire bolts. The Arbalest tried to hold range. The Assassin dashed in with a dagger—but the Mini Boss caught him mid-blink and smashed his ribs, sending him flying.
[Assassin – DEAD]
One by one, they fell.
Until only the Priest remained, barely dodging and trying to cast Heal under pressure. The Homo Goblin still had 50% HP. And it was enraged.
Noir took a breath.
Then quietly opened his Settings and toggled the option:
[HIDE NAMEPLATE FROM ALL PLAYERS – ON]
His IGN—Noir—faded from visibility.
Silent, unannounced, he moved.
And in the shadows of the fog-covered trees, death followed behind him.