Face lifted toward the sky, eyes closed, Reiboku let the fine rain wash over him. The fog was thick, almost unreal.

  Moonlight pierced through the clouds.

  I got my arm eaten… I was already struggling to survive with everything intact… so now…

  “Fuck!!”

  His fist tightened.

  This time… I’m not the same anymore.

  How am I supposed to do this…

  His voice echoed faintly in the mist.

  The stump, badly healed, was still caked with dried blood.

  He slowly opened his eyes. Pain twisted his face.

  My left arm… My powers… I can’t feel them anymore.

  A shiver ran down his spine. The emptiness. The loss. The fear.

  But deep inside, a certainty took hold. Stronger than anything.

  “[Demon Fist],” he whispered, uncertain.

  Nothing. Not a sign. Not a single tingle.

  “I knew it.”

  He slowly descended back into the den. In the reassuring darkness of the shelter, he discovered, to his surprise, a few pieces of dried meat.

  Yūshin had left them there.

  He ate slowly, chewing each bite as if it were a treasure. The salt burned his tongue.

  He kept chewing… and it reminded him he wasn’t completely alone.

  Then he lifted his head.

  From now on, he would have to learn to live with only one arm.

  His right arm.

  His only weapon.

  He tied a makeshift knife to his belt — a crude blade carved from a monster’s bone.

  I’ve already fought without skills… I can do it again. As long as it’s one-on-one… as long as I give everything I’ve got.

  He took a deep breath. The cold air burned inside his chest.

  I have to protect what I have left. I can’t afford to lose anything else.

  He searched the den.

  Among Yūshin’s belongings, he found wood, dried tendons likely torn from some mutant beast, and a few braided ropes.

  Reiboku saw an opportunity.

  He unraveled the weave. Tied the pieces of wood together, bound the tendons, wrapped everything around his torso, his legs, his left flank.

  It was a struggle.

  Every knot was a battle. Every failed grip another insult to his condition.

  He finally managed to finish.

  A crude protection.

  Gritting his teeth, he used his knees, his elbows, even his jaws to hold the bindings in place.

  “That’ll do.”

  His hand and jaw were numb from the effort.

  He inhaled, determination burning in his chest, and stepped outside.

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  The sun was rising.

  The rain had stopped.

  The world was waiting.

  The hunt began.

  This time, his senses were razor-sharp.

  Every step, every breath… became instinct.

  He no longer just heard the wind — he could distinguish claws scraping bark twenty meters away, the irregular heartbeat of a beast.

  Moving through the environment. Melting into the shadows.

  He had no choice.

  It had become a natural skill.

  Not granted by the Voice.

  Forged in pain. Learned alone.

  Then a growl.

  A mutant dog.

  Large. Nervous. Aggressive.

  Alone… for now.

  Crouched behind a tree, Reiboku observed it.

  If I stall, it’ll call the pack.

  He dashed into a wooded area.

  Branches and dead leaves cracked beneath his feet.

  The dog followed without hesitation.

  Perfect.

  He lured it into a narrow space, trapped between a large rock and a fallen tree trunk.

  A natural trap.

  It must think it’s already won.

  The beast attacked. Brutal.

  Reiboku pivoted at the last second, found his footing, and flipped backward over the monster.

  As he landed, his right foot slipped.

  The air left his lungs.

  He tried to balance himself, but his left shoulder met only empty air. The void pulled at him.

  Gritting his teeth, his right hand clawed into the dirt. He contracted his arm to its limit to keep from falling.

  Behind him, the beast began to turn, muscles rolling beneath slick skin.

  Too late.

  Reiboku didn’t strike.

  He dropped with all his weight.

  He immediately propelled himself forward.

  The blade slipped between two vertebrae. A dry crack, cartilage giving way, and the monster’s cry died in a metallic gurgle.

  Silence.

  Pain shot up from his knee to his hip.

  He stayed still for a second, just to avoid collapsing.

  He was panting.

  His joints burned.

  He straightened, face splattered with blood.

  That was close.

  I have to push past the pain… they won’t wait for me.

  A shiver.

  He turned his head.

  Behind the bushes, a crouched silhouette.

  A scavenger.

  A deformed jackal-like creature, black crest, sharp teeth, red eyes. Back arched like an aggressive cat.

  A predator.

  Its eyes glowed.

  And Reiboku’s no longer fled.

  He charged.

  Not fast.

  But sharp.

  The scavenger charged too. Massive shape. Dripping fangs.

  It aimed for the throat — the jugular.

  Reiboku dodged, pivoted, and slammed his right elbow into the creature’s flank.

  A shockwave. A dull thud.

  But the beast held firm.

  Too solid.

  He stepped back. Closed his eyes.

  If I see myself whole… maybe I will be.

  He visualized his left arm.

  Whole. Alive.

  He put the blade away. Merged with the mental image.

  Then—

  “[Demon Fist]!!!”

  Heat surged.

  For a second, he almost felt fingers. An arm.

  Then the emptiness crashed back into him.

  His right fist shot forward, breaking through the creature’s defense, striking straight into its chest.

  The scavenger was thrown back, claws scraping the ground.

  It staggered.

  But it wasn’t enough.

  Reiboku’s fist… remained empty.

  No skill.

  Nothing.

  No. Still nothing.

  A bitter emptiness spread through him.

  Sweat ran down his forehead.

  He clenched his teeth.

  Before leaving, he thought he was ready.

  But now… doubt.

  He pinched his cheek violently.

  It’s just food.

  He straightened, gaze hard.

  “You’re the prey now.”

  His hand tightened around the handle of his blade.

  The scavenger stepped back.

  Its instincts were screaming.

  Too late.

  Reiboku lunged.

  A flash. A scream.

  He buried the blade into the creature’s skull.

  A brutal impact. Blood sprayed.

  The blade stuck fast.

  Reiboku, hand clenched tight around the handle, used all his strength to flip it over.

  The scavenger collapsed, body hitting the ground in a dying rattle.

  Reiboku, panting, stared at the carcass.

  I’m alive. And you… you’re just a meal.

  He pulled the blade free.

  And struck one final time. Pure rage. No mercy.

  A tingling sensation spread through him.

  His right arm… glowed faintly.

  Time to surpass my limits… to gain more strength.

  Level IV.

  He pressed his right wrist, forcing himself to believe — if only for a moment — that his body was whole.

  Inside his subconscious, a mental interface appeared.

  A luminous grid suspended in the void.

  A cold, mechanical voice echoed:

  Attribute Distribution Activated. Points Available: 5

  [CURRENT STATS (LEVEL III)]

  Strength: 13

  Agility: 5

  Endurance: 13

  Intelligence: 8

  Charisma: 8

  Perception: 7

  Mana: 30

  Spirit: 0

  Divine: 50

  I’m putting all 5 points into Strength. I have no choice. I only have one arm. Power is the only thing I can rely on.

  [UPDATED STATS (LEVEL IV)]

  Strength: 18

  Agility: 5

  Endurance: 13

  Intelligence: 8

  Charisma: 8

  Perception: 7

  Mana: 30

  Spirit: 0

  Divine: 50

  Heat traveled up his shoulder, as if his muscles were tightening.

  A sudden wave of nausea forced him to drop to one knee.

  His arm trembled. His heart pounded.

  Acid rose in his throat.

  Then suddenly, he vomited the dried meat.

  Did I push too hard… Fighting with one arm drained me.

  His vision blurred slightly.

  I’ll have to train… to last longer.

  Moments later, he resumed his path.

  Along the way, he saw carcasses.

  Dogs. Vultures. Scavengers.

  A massacre.

  He stopped.

  Yūshin… or another massive beast?

  His fist tightened.

  Something — or someone — was waiting further ahead.

  “Too much blood.”

  Hand trembling, he stepped onto the crimson trail disappearing into the darkness.