章節 4: Leveled Up!
Ding! [Warning! A Dred is coming your way!]
The system's robotic voice carried an unexpected weight this time, almost as if it were issuing a genuine warning. The ground beneath Elion trembled as the system message faded, loose debris shifting dangerously.
"D-Dred? How do they know I'm here?" Elion muttered, his breathing uneven. "Damn it… If the rubble collapses, I'm done for."
Gripping the knife he had just created, Elion began to crawl out of the narrow crevice where he had taken refuge. The jagged pieces of concrete scraped against his hands and knees, but he kept moving, each shove of his limbs bringing him closer to the light outside.
But dread clung to him like a shadow. He hadn't stopped to think about one vital detail: where would the Dred attack from?
The instant Elion emerged into the open, his question was answered.
A blinding flash of light seared his vision, forcing him to shield his eyes. When the light vanished, a monstrous figure stood before him, its form distorted and terrifying.
It was the same clown-like Dred as before. Its face twisted in grotesque mockery, jagged scars carved deep around its hollow eyes. Its painted grin stretched unnaturally wide, almost splitting its head in half.
"ǬǮǶǙǚɁѬ…"
The sound it emitted—a chorus of creaking metal, human wails, and guttural growls—sent chills down Elion's spine.
"AAAH!" Elion screamed, stumbling backward and crashing onto the ground.
The Dred wasted no time. It crawled toward him, dragging its twisted limbs across the shattered pavement with horrifying speed. In its hand gleamed a long, jagged knife, its edge flickering with a strange, dark light.
Elion scrambled backward on the ground, his breaths ragged and frantic. His mind screamed at him to act, but his body was frozen in terror.
The Dred lunged forward, its knife flashing downward toward his ankle.
"Get away from me!" Elion shouted, summoning what little strength he had to kick at the creature's face.
But his foot passed straight through its grotesque grin as if it wasn't even there.
"W-What?" Elion gasped, his heart plummeting.
The system's earlier message echoed in his mind: As long as you still have negative emotions and fear, no physical attack will work on Dred.
The Dred paused for a moment, tilting its head as if to mock him. Then, slowly, its grin widened even further, a grotesque display of triumph.
Elion's chest heaved as panic clawed at him. He couldn't run. He couldn't fight. Was this really where his life would end—at the hands of a twisted nightmare?
No.
His eyes darted to a loose piece of rubble nearby. Think. Use your surroundings.
Just as the Dred raised its knife for another strike, Elion grabbed the chunk of debris and hurled it past the creature's head. The rock clattered against a crumbling wall, the sound echoing through the ruins.
The Dred's head snapped toward the noise, its focus shifting for just a moment.
Now!
Elion kicked frantically, freeing his leg from the Dred's grip, and scrambled backward. Pain shot through his scraped palms and knees, but he didn't stop. He crawled as fast as he could, slipping through the rubble until he burst into the open streets.
The fading light of the sunset bathed the ruins in a warm, golden glow, but to Elion, the world was nothing but cold, sharp edges. He staggered to his feet, clutching his knife tightly, and ran.
As Elion ran through the streets, he found himself slowing. His legs ached, his breaths came in shallow gasps, and his thoughts swirled in a chaotic storm.
Am I just going to keep running forever?
He stopped suddenly, his feet skidding against the cracked pavement. His hands clenched into fists as his chest heaved with frustration.
Elion's mind flashed back to every moment he had chosen to run.
When his classmates laughed at him, he stayed silent, lowering his head in submission. When his father left, he blamed himself, retreating into guilt. When his mother hit him, he didn't resist. He just took it.
Every time life had thrown pain at him, he had turned away. He had never fought back.
And yet… the world he had once loathed was now gone. The classmates who had tormented him, the family who had neglected and hurt him—gone, all of them.
Even the imaginary world he had created for himself, where he was a king, where he had control, had now been given form in this desolate, ruined reality.
What did he have left to fear?
Elion looked up at the horizon, the last rays of the sun dipping below the skyline. The warm breeze brushed against his face, carrying with it the faint scent of smoke. For the first time, the weight on his chest began to lift.
The fear. The anger. The pain. It all began to fade, swept away by the wind.
A sound broke through the calm, dragging Elion back to the present.
The clown-faced Dred emerged from the shadows of a nearby alley, its twisted grin as wide as ever.
Elion turned to face it, his grip tightening on the knife he had created.
"No more running," he said, his voice steady.
The Dred tilted its head, as if amused. Then, with a sudden burst of speed, it charged at him, its knife gleaming in the fading light.
Elion's mind raced. He analyzed the distance, the speed of the Dred's movements, the weight of the weapon in his hand. Numbers and calculations filled his thoughts, sharpening his focus.
The Dred lunged, its blade slicing through the air toward Elion's throat.
But Elion moved first. He sidestepped the attack, his small frame ducking beneath the creature's swing. His eyes locked onto a small rock near his feet.
He grabbed it and hurled it at the Dred with all his strength.
The rock struck the creature square in the face.
The Dred staggered back, a guttural growl escaping its throat. Elion's heart surged with triumph. The system had been right—his negative emotions were gone. He could fight now.
The Dred recovered quickly, its movements more erratic as it charged again.
Elion ducked and weaved, dodging its strikes while keeping his distance. Each step he took was calculated, every motion deliberate.
Then, he saw his opening.
With the Dred lunging toward him, Elion raised his knife, calculating the exact angle and force he would need.
"Distance: 2 meters. Speed: 1 m/s. Wind: 3 m/s from the north…" he muttered under his breath.
The Dred was nearly upon him.
Elion twisted his body, throwing the knife with all his strength.
The blade flew through the air, spinning once before embedding itself deep into the Dred's forehead.
The creature froze.
For a moment, there was only silence. Then, with a sickening thud, the Dred collapsed onto the ground.
Elion fell to his knees, his chest heaving. His bloodied hands trembled as he stared at the fallen creature, the knife still lodged in its head.
Ding!
[You have successfully killed a Dred.]
[You have leveled up! Lv. 1 → Lv. 2]
The system's message hovered in the darkening sky, its cold words a strange comfort.
For the first time in his life, Elion felt something new: victory.
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