The banging on the front door grew louder.
BAM. BAM. BAM.
Each hit rattled the walls, shaking dust loose from the ceiling.
The thing outside snarled—low, hungry, animalistic.
A monster born only minutes after integration.
And I was pathetically underpowered in comparison.
I opened my status screen once more, just to confirm the miserable truth:
Strength: 4.
I wouldn't win against a housecat in a wrestling match, let alone whatever stood outside.
My mother's blood was still warm on my hands.
Good.
Let it remind me what sentiment costs.
Focus. Think. Assess.
This world was new.
The rules were unknown.
The only certainty was that brute force would get me killed instantly.
The door splintered slightly.
BAM.
I moved away from it, stepping lightly—even my Rank F Silent Steps was enough to mask movement on carpet.
Kitchen.
I needed tools.
I found a butcher knife first. Heavy. Too heavy for my low Strength. My strikes would barely scratch anything with real hides or bone structure.
But there was something else—
A drawer full of sharpened steak knives.
Light, precise, good for stabbing soft spots.
Perfect.
Then I noticed the cleaning cabinet.
Bleach.
Ammonia.
Detergents.
Acids.
I smiled.
Yes… chemistry.
My real weapon.
I grabbed two bottles and backed out of the kitchen.
BAM. BAM. BAM.
The door finally cracked. A claw ripped through the wood, long and dark like something stripped from a nightmare.
The monster snarled.
A shape—long limbs, distorted canine features—
A Feral Hound, Level 2.
HP 90.
Strength 14.
One hit would shatter my ribs.
I retreated into the hallway, forcing the beast to enter through a narrow choke point—just wide enough for one creature.
Predator's Instinct flickered.
A faint glow appeared over the monster's silhouette as it shoved and clawed its way through the ruined doorway:
Weak Point Detected: Eyes, inner mouth, left side of throat.
Useful.
But only if I could get close without dying.
The beast broke through with a final crash and stumbled inside. It sniffed the air, confused by the scents of chemicals and blood.
I stood at the far end of the hallway, feigning panic.
"Come on…" I whispered. "Take the bait, you animal."
It lunged.
Fast.
Too fast.
I couldn't outrun it.
But I didn't need to.
I threw the first bottle.
A splash of ammonia drenched its face.
The beast recoiled, shrieking as its eyes burned.
Good.
Then I threw the second bottle—bleach.
The mixture hit its face, dripping into its open mouth.
The moment the two chemicals mixed—
HISSSSSSS—
Chlorine gas.
The hound thrashed violently, slamming into the walls, claws tearing into the wooden floor as it choked and howled. Thick greenish fumes rose around its head.
It couldn't see.
It couldn't breathe.
And it couldn't think.
I moved.
Fast and quiet.
Sliding behind it, avoiding the cloud, knife held in a reverse grip.
Predator's Instinct pulsed.
Weak point: Left side of throat.
I struck.
The blade pierced soft flesh.
Hot blood sprayed across my hands, face, clothes.
The beast jerked, twitching.
I stabbed again. Deeper. Harder.
My small hands lacked strength, but precision made up for it.
I carved through the artery.
The monster collapsed.
Its blood pooled across the hallway, mixing with spilled chemicals and my mother's earlier stain.
A notification appeared.
[You have slain: Feral Hound (Level 2)]
EXP gained: 14
Level Up! → Level 2
Then another:
[First Monster Kill Achieved!]
You are the first human to kill a monster during the System Era.
Rewards:
+3 Agility
+3 Dexterity
+3 Magic
New skill unlocked: Mana Sense (F)
My body tingled with new energy.
Still weak.
Still fragile.
But now I had momentum.
I wiped the blood from my eyes with the back of my forearm.
"One step at a time," I murmured.
"This world favors killers, not victims."
I looked down at the monster's corpse.
"And I refuse to die here."
Outside, more howls echoed across the streets.
Integration had only just begun