Shadow-things —black-fleshed creatures that looked like overgrown tumours with legs— stared at him from in between the trees. And there were dozens... no hundreds of them. Each the size of a rabid dog, with razor teeth, overcrowding their misshapen maws.
Dozens of tags flickered into Han's golden gaze.
『Sentry Lv.1』
Level 1 or not, there were simply too many of them.
Han's gaze swept across all that he could see, his mind already calculating his chances of survival.
However, every path, every move he calculated led to a single outcome.
Death.
The 'sentries' were like a monster tide of shadows creeping at the edge of the tree line. And that was just what he could see; who knew how many hid in the shadows of their peers, how many awaited elsewhere.
He had to get out of there.
'Fuck.'
He fished into his mind for the plan that would yield his greatest chances of survival. The odds were not great, but they were something.
