Leo's eyes fluttered open, and the first thing he noticed was the ceiling. Not the wooden beams of the village hut he had fallen asleep in—no, this ceiling was entirely made of crystal, refracting the sunlight into a dazzling kaleidoscope of colors.
[Welcome to Simulation #1: World of Hunters! You are now Leo, son of the renowned hunter Ulrich. Your mission is simple: survive until natural death. Spoiler alert: 'natural' might not be on the table.]
Leo groaned. "Natural death? That's your idea of a mission?"
[What? You were expecting 'become a hero' or 'save the world?' Pfft. We're not that kind of system.]
Sitting up, Leo surveyed the room. Luxurious, ornate furnishings surrounded him—the kind fit for royalty. Golden-threaded curtains, a bed that could comfortably fit ten people, and an intimidating fireplace the size of a small dragon.
"Okay. Fancy. Where am I?"
[You're in the city of Drakensport. Your dad is one of the greatest hunters of the realm, and everyone expects you to follow in his footsteps. Spoiler: You're bad at it.]
Leo blinked. "Fantastic. Daddy issues right from the start."
---
Breakfast in the grand hall was an awkward affair. Seated across from him was his "father," Ulrich—a towering man with scars running down his face and a permanent scowl that could curdle milk.
"Leo," Ulrich growled. "Today you will begin your hunter's training. No son of mine will be a coward."
Leo's mouth opened and closed. "Coward? That's… a bit harsh."
Ulrich slammed his fist on the table. "Enough talk! You will join me at the training grounds."
[Yay, family bonding through trauma! Hope you like sweating.]
Leo's eyes twitched. "One day, I'm going to unplug you."
[Try it, and I'll sing sea shanties for eternity.]
---
The training grounds were brutal. Wooden dummies stood in neat rows, each riddled with arrow holes and scorch marks from various elemental attacks. Other trainees—most of them burly, muscular men—stood in clusters, laughing and flexing. Leo felt like a twig in a forest of oaks.
"Pick up a sword," Ulrich commanded, tossing a rusted blade at Leo's feet.
Leo reluctantly picked it up. It was heavier than it looked, and his arms trembled from the weight.
"Attack that dummy."
Leo swung the sword with all his might. It bounced off the dummy with a pathetic clunk.
The other trainees burst into laughter.
[Epic fail, 10/10 would watch again.]
"Shut up," Leo muttered.
Ulrich's scowl deepened. "Again."
Hours passed. Leo swung until his arms felt like jelly. The sun was merciless, beating down on him without mercy. By the end of it, he collapsed onto the dirt.
"Pathetic," Ulrich muttered. "You'll never survive at this rate."
"Thanks for the pep talk, Dad," Leo groaned.
[Achievement unlocked: 'Disappointing Offspring.' Reward: Absolutely nothing.]
---
That night, Leo lay in bed, too sore to move. Every muscle in his body ached, and he was fairly certain he'd pulled something important.
"There has to be a way out of this," he muttered.
[There is! You just have to survive until you're old and wrinkly. Easy, right?]
"Or I could run away."
[Bold strategy. Let's see how that plays out.]
Leo considered it. Drakensport was surrounded by dense forests teeming with monsters. Running away was essentially a death sentence.
"Fine. What's the plan, oh wise system?"
[Training montage? Cue inspirational music.]
Leo rolled his eyes. "You're insufferable."
[And yet, here we are.]
---
The next day, training resumed. This time, Ulrich paired Leo with a sparring partner—a girl named Freya. She was tall, muscular, and wielded a giant axe with terrifying ease.
"Don't hold back," Freya warned, grinning.
"I'm holding all the backs," Leo muttered.
Freya lunged at him. Leo barely dodged, stumbling over his own feet.
[Graceful as a drunken goat.]
Freya's axe whooshed past him, embedding itself in the ground. She pulled it free effortlessly.
"You're too slow," she said.
"Gee, thanks for the feedback."
The sparring match continued, with Leo taking more hits than he gave. By the end, he was covered in bruises and dirt.
"You have potential," Freya said, offering him a hand.
"Yeah, potential to die young."
[Romantic tension detected. Should I cue the dramatic music?]
"Shut up, Simmy."
---
Days turned into weeks. Leo's training was relentless, but he started to improve. His swings became more accurate, his dodges less clumsy. Freya continued to spar with him, and they developed an odd friendship—one built on bruises and mutual insults.
One afternoon, Ulrich called Leo into his study.
"You're improving," Ulrich admitted. "But you still lack the killer instinct."
Leo folded his arms. "Maybe I don't want to kill things."
Ulrich's eyes narrowed. "In this world, it's kill or be killed."
[Ominous foreshadowing alert.]
"I'll do it my way," Leo said firmly.
Ulrich said nothing, but the disappointment was written all over his face.
---
That night, Leo had a dream. He was standing in a dark forest, surrounded by shadowy figures with glowing red eyes.
[Dream sequence initiated. Cue spooky vibes.]
The figures closed in, their claws glinting in the moonlight. Leo tried to run, but his feet were rooted to the ground.
"No escape," one of them hissed.
Leo woke with a start, drenched in sweat.
"I hate this place," he muttered.
[And they lived happily never after. The end.]
"Shut up, Simmy."
[Love you too.]