Hell Difficulty Tutorial Chapter 3

The glass shatters, and the wolf thrusts its head through, disregarding the jagged shards entirely, lunging to snap at the elderly woman close by. Luckily, it catches merely the edge of her sweater, ripping the cloth as it yanks her toward the outside. Screaming, the woman topples to the ground.

I shift a little to the side, clutching an iron pipe and a shard of glass in my grasp. That's when I spot a man positioned across from the wolf, his hand dipping under his jacket toward his armpit.

Don't tell me…

I edge nearer to the wolf, drawing its gaze. It tilts its head a fraction, utterly dismissive of the broken glass. Its eyes gleam almost luminously.

With its focus on me now, the man draws his pistol, and briefly, our eyes lock. I offer a subtle nod and advance another step toward the beast.

Now just a meter or two from the wolf, my pulse quickens. Warmth surges through my muscles, blood races fiercely through my veins by my pounding heart, and clarity sharpens my thoughts.

Nothing exists but me, the wolf, and the armed man.

Screams fade from my ears, pain from my scraped forearm and sliced left palm vanishes. I tighten my hold on the glass shard.

When was the last time I felt this alive?

Have I ever felt this alive?

[Focus - lvl 1 > Focus - lvl 2]

A faint smirk tugs at my lips as I crouch low, mentally gauging the wolf's reach and prior speed, then padding extra distance and doubling its velocity for safety.

My muscles coil and unleash in a explosive sprint toward the wolf.

It seems to grin wickedly, parting its massive jaws lined with teeth the size of my palm.

I halt precisely in time, its fangs snapping shut mere centimeters from my body.

Correcting my grave error in my head, I boost its speed and reach further. Swinging my right hand, I aim the blunt iron pipe at its ear, anticipating its evasion.

The pipe strikes its brow instead, prompting a guttural snarl from the wolf as it lunges anew.

But I've already vanished from that spot.

Its jaws clash farther away this time, and I rake my left hand across, grazing its upper lip lightly.

I leap back while the wolf strains to shove its head closer. The bus's metal panels screech and protest.

Suddenly, five sharp bangs erupt. Confined inside the bus, they roar like thunder, and the wolf yelps shrilly for the first time, yanking its head out swiftly. Two more shots ring out, sending the wolf leaping rearward. I spot its limp, followed by another pained howl and a menacing growl as it hunkers lower.

Wounded, yet far from lethal damage.

It retreats gradually backward, eyes fixed on the pistol-wielding man. Blood trickles down the wolf's muzzle. Shots seem to have struck the right side of its face and part of its leg, explaining the hobble.

My eyes shift back to the label hovering over its head.

[Wolf - lvl 2]

The beast inches toward the woods when...

"Fuck."

I set the glass and pipe on the adjacent seat and yank off my shirt swiftly.

"Fuck me."

Wrapping the shirt around my left hand, I seize the glass shard again. Now my grip is firm, the edge no longer biting into my palm.

I wedge the pipe's end beneath the seat, tugging and shoving until it loosens. Once free, I stomp on it repeatedly with all my might, honing the tip somewhat sharper.

My breaths come ragged, blood thundering in my ears.

Never before have I sensed such raw power and vitality surging through me.

The wolf nears the forest edge, beginning to pivot, as I vault through the window and charge after it.

Torso bare, filthy, makeshift weapons clutched tight.

Trembling.

Terrified.

Electrified.

The wolf whirls to face me, my thoughts crystalline as crystal.

I ease to a walk, dropping into a low stance, and the creature emits a profound rumble.

I refuse to dial back its speed in my calculations. Underplaying it would spell disaster.

It appears feeble, moves sluggishly, bleeds profusely while fleeing, yet I won't take it lightly.

Truth be told, without those gunshot wounds likely crippling it, I wouldn't pursue. But this isn't Earth's wildlife.

If my hunch holds, slaying these beasts grants levels, skills, stats. Power to endure until forced repatriation kicks in.

Just like a game.

A goddamn game.

I'm wagering my life, but no better shot will come.

Should the wolf perish now, credit goes to the gunman, so I must inflict some harm and pray it registers.

It could endure, denying even him rewards, or worst, return with packmates.

Wolves on Earth hunt in groups.

The wolf creeps forward at me, and I circle left toward its shot-up flank. Methodically, cautiously. Its bleeding gives me the edge.

Senses razor-sharp, heartbeat thumping loud. Unblinking, I track its legs and shoulders for tells of its strike.

Now.

I sidestep left sharply, then again, jabbing my left hand to pierce its eye with glass. The stab misses, but carves a gash across the orb.

The wolf spins ferociously to chomp, but I'm retreating, swinging my right arm to crack its snout.

It lunges once more, and I veer right, slashing for the left eye. Success—I embed glass deep, eliciting a piercing wail as it recoils, shard protruding from the socket.

Knees bent, I surge leftward, seizing the pipe two-handed to smash the damaged eye, pulverizing glass and worsening the ruin. I evade its follow-up to the left—its blind flank—then pound the sightless eye with maximum force.

A agonized bellow erupts, wolf blood spraying across me.

It bounds away, but I press the pursuit.

My frame feels potent and agile.

No more tremors in my hands; the wolf alone fills my vision. Its motions, rippling sinews, impending lunges. Claws dig into soil as it readies.

I plunge the pipe's tip into its ruined eye and spring clear.

Fire consumes my body, heart hammering wildly.

Swallowing proves impossible; throat dry as dust.

A slow, deep inhalation follows.

Victory seems within reach.

The wolf outmatches me in strength, speed, toughness.

Still, defeat feels impossible.

I charge its right flank this time. It swipes oppositely, anticipating another blind-eye assault, but I hoist the pipe overhead and smash down on the left eye with every ounce of power.

Not yet blind there, but gore streams from the gash, clouding sight.

Impact lands true; as before, it shrieks and retreats.

Anticipating, I pivot to its right and strike again, fully blinding the remaining eye.

I halt.

As the wolf flails blindly, snapping wildly, I draw a steadying breath.

Steady.

Inhale.

Concentrate.

Exhale.

Concentrate.

[Focus - lvl 2 > Focus - lvl 3]

Deep, measured breaths tame my frantic pulse. Flames lick my flesh, muscles scream. Dizziness swirls, and a fresh gash mars my left chest.

I never felt it land.

Staring at the injury, mild astonishment grips me.

The wolf ceases its frenzy, issuing soft whimpers amid snarls and snaps.

Unwinding the shirt from my left hand, I circle to its right. Balling the blood-soaked fabric, I hurl it rightward. A beat later, I bolt left, pipe gripped two-handed, tapered end downward.

The beast leaps at the shirt, jaws unleashing a nightmarish roar.

Silent as possible, I raise the pipe high and drive it down toward the left eye.

The fiend unleashes a hellish screech as I ram the pipe to its hilt, release, and vault away. I observe its mad convulsions—snarling, biting air, charging blindly.

Snatching my shirt from the dirt, I retreat toward the bus, eyes never leaving the thrashing monster.

It sniffs the air, then bolts for the forest, growling and lurching on injured limbs. It crashes into a tree but barrels deeper, pipe still embedded in its socket.

Reality sharpens as the wolf vanishes; bus passengers' voices filter through.

Pain crashes over me in surges.

Open wounds.

Seared muscles.

Skull throbs like a bomb.

Strength drains abruptly from my legs; I teeter toward collapse, sheer determination propping me up.

Heartbeat eases, and the world…

The world turns mundane once more.