Eryon stepped closer to the cheetah's body, knelt down, and placed his palm on the still-warm, damp fur.
[Essence Reap successful. You have obtained a D-rank skill: Predator's Speed]
[Description: Greatly enhances neuromotor output and muscle reflexes, allowing explosive movements and speed surpassing the limits of ordinary humans. Designed to mimic the hunting response of apex predators]
A wicked grin curled on his lips. Speed—an essential factor in close combat. And now, he had it.
A D-rank skill—considered low in the grading system, but its true value depended on context. In this new world, even a single second of advantage could separate life from death.
He could only imagine people's reactions if they ever found out about his talent—his ability to extract essence from existential objects. They would swarm in droves, pretending to be allies, hoping to leech off his power.
Leeches.
The world hadn't changed. It had just removed its mask more quickly here.
He knew damn too well how the old world worked. When power was everything, and justice nothing more than a slogan. When oppression was seen but ignored, and those wearing the mask of 'goodness' hid their true faces behind fake smiles.
Maybe... none of it was coincidence. Maybe this world was the real stage. And everything he'd lived through before? Just practice.
Eryon turned his gaze to a faintly glowing golden fruit nestled in the misty haze. It was about the size of an apple, hanging alone on a brittle branch—as if waiting to be plucked.
Without hesitation, he reached for it. The texture felt familiar—smooth skin, slightly moist, dense in his grip. Without a second thought, he bit into it.
The taste… was bland. No sweetness, no bitterness. Just texture and density, like eating a memory stripped of meaning. But he kept chewing. Bite after bite until the entire fruit vanished, leaving not even a seed behind.
[You have consumed the Fruit of Venom]
[Effect: Immune to all types of poison]
[+5 Strength]
Eryon's eyes widened for a moment. Immune to all poison? If that meant literally every kind, this wasn't just a bonus—it was an anomaly. Absolute poison immunity in a world like this was an immeasurable advantage.
And the strength boost? A cherry on top.
"I'm so fucking blessed," he muttered in satisfaction. This time, the smile on his face couldn't be hidden.
A system window popped up, displaying his current status:
[Name: Eryon Cain]
[Age: 25]
[Level: 2 (119/250)]
[Strength: 25]
[Agility: 17]
[Endurance: 18]
[Constitution: 19]
[Energy Point: 36]
[Talent: Essence Reap (SSS-Tier)]
[Skills: Berserk (D), Enhanced Smell (F), Predator's Speed (D), Predator's Eyesight (D)]
Not even a full day had passed, yet his growth had nearly doubled. With this, he could take more risks. No need to hide in the safe zone any longer.
"Time to move on," he said softly as the system window faded from view.
But just as he was about to stand, his eyes fell again on the plant that had borne the fruit. A thought crept into his mind.
Why only take the fruit?
He spread out his hand and absorbed the essence of the entire plant.
[Essence Reap successful. Resistance to disease has drastically increased. Physical condition significantly enhanced]
[+5 Constitution]
A low, cold chuckle escaped his lips—then grew louder. It echoed throughout the silent cave like the sound of victory.
Jackpot. This was a jackpot.
Good thing he hadn't rushed in when those four idiots started loudly talking about their "secret." Now? He'd taken it all. For himself.
There was nothing left in this cave.
Eryon stepped out, his body once again drenched by the waterfall's curtain. The roaring cascade swallowed the sound of his footsteps, absorbing his presence into the wild.
But one thing was certain:
In a world like this, being first meant everything. And hesitation... was a death sentence.
---
It was unclear how much time had passed—perhaps an hour, maybe more. What was certain was that the sunlight had dimmed, signaling the arrival of a calm evening outside.
But that calm never reached this cave.
Nine people stood at the cave entrance, staring at a scene that left them speechless. Four of them—familiar faces from the earlier conversation—stood frozen in cold sweat, their expressions as dark as the shadows cast by the cavern walls.
"Fuck! How is this possible?!" one of them shouted, his head whipping around in panic. "Someone beat us to it!"
Footsteps echoed. A man stepped forward—tall, broad-shouldered, and clean-shaven, with a middle-parted hairstyle. He looked to be in his late twenties. He stopped right in front of the massive creature's carcass.
Eric William.
He crouched down, his fingers brushing against the wound on the giant cheetah's body. Only a few seconds passed before the corpse began to decay rapidly—flesh dissolving, bones cracking and crumbling.
The eight behind him swallowed in unison, horror flashing in their eyes. The aura around Eric shifted—not a loud, explosive rage, but something far more menacing: cold, sharp, controlled.
Eric slowly lifted his head, his gaze drifting toward a plant nearby.
That plant.
It stood between the rocks, its golden stem still upright, but its once-vibrant leaves now drooped, lifeless. The glow was gone. The skin of its fruit… peeled back in thin, delicate flakes, as if it had dried from within.
Eric stepped closer, slowly lowering himself until he was almost eye-level with the plant. He didn't touch it. He simply watched. In silence, he processed—his eyes tracing the stem structure, the shape of the broken fruit branches, and the faint trace of energy left behind—barely visible to most.
His gaze then returned to the predator's skeleton.
"…Whoever did this used a spear."
His voice was flat, almost like he was reading from an autopsy report. Someone behind him tried to speak, stepping forward hesitantly.
"There aren't many who use spears, we could—"
"—find him?" Eric cut in, his tone calm… too calm.
The man's eyes widened. Eric smiled, but the smile was like a blade—sharp, cold, merciless.
"Smart. You're quick on your feet. Unfortunately, you're only thinking after the fact."
No one dared to speak.
Eric walked toward him slowly, his steps silent like a shadow. He stopped right in front of the man—they were the same height, but the pressure from Eric's gaze felt like staring at a flatline on an EKG monitor.
"I even praised you," he said. "You came to me, told me about the quest. The details were thorough. But of all the actions you could've taken… you chose to leave it unguarded. Not one man stationed here. No one watching. You were too busy imagining your share, weren't you?"
The man stayed silent, his knees trembling ever so slightly.
Eric sighed and rubbed the back of his neck—a casual gesture that didn't soften the steel in his words.
"When I worked in forensics," he began, his voice calm but heavy, "there was one suspect who got caught—not because he left behind evidence… but because he was too confident he hadn't."
His eyes swept across the cave, step by step. The air was damp, tinged with the faint scent of blood. The ground still felt warm.
"He forgot one small thing—gravity."
He stopped near the cheetah's skeleton, now nothing more than fragile bones. His men held their breath, waiting for what came next.
"The guy dropped a coin. Worthless. But just heavy enough to scrape through the dust on the old wooden floor. From that… the entire scene unraveled like a book."
Eric's eyes sharpened, scanning the cave with analytical focus. "Now we're at another crime scene. And the perpetrator just left. But he… left traces."
One of his men, a younger guy with short hair and eyes full of curiosity, stepped forward. "What should we look for, Eric?"
Eric pointed to the ground around the cheetah's remains. "Check the soil—weight distribution, pressure points. Leftover body fluids. Shifts in the scent of the air. Anything that doesn't belong here."
Then he turned and stepped toward the golden fruit plant, now wilted and lifeless. He crouched, gazing at it without touching it.
"And this…"
The plant was still structurally intact, but it held no life. Its leaves hung limp, its stem darkening from the base—not from rot, but as if it had been… drained.
Eric looked up, his tone more serious now.
"A normal plant dies from age or physical damage. But this wasn't uprooted. It wasn't burned. Its cellular structure is still intact… but empty."
At last, he touched the base of the plant with two fingers—his index and middle—then withdrew them after a few seconds.
"The energy was taken. Forced out. Like something pulled all of its vitality… without physically damaging it."
One of the four men, who had looked anxious the entire time, finally dared to speak. "Are you sure… someone did this?"
Eric turned toward him, calm but intimidating.
"He has a talent for draining life. But more than that—he knew exactly what he was doing. This wasn't an accident. It was deliberate."
Silence filled the cave once more. Then Eric rose to his feet, his eyes cold as steel.
"Find him."
His words weren't loud, but everyone moved instantly.