The cave was quiet.
Not peaceful—quiet.
Ren lay on the rough cot he had hastily woven from bear hide and reinforced wolf fur, his body sinking into the surprisingly sturdy surface. The smell of leather, blood, and earth lingered heavily in the air. It wasn't comfortable in the way beds were meant to be, but it was warm, and more importantly, safe.
For now.
Outside the cave entrance, two subdued wolves stood guard, their ears twitching at every sound. Their silhouettes were barely visible against the faint moonlight filtering through the forest canopy.
Ren stared at the stone ceiling, breathing slowly.
He was exhausted.
Not just physically—but mentally.
Today had been dangerous. Too dangerous.
If he hadn't found the shop…
If he hadn't had the yen…
If the potion hadn't worked fast enough…
He exhaled sharply.
"I really almost died," he muttered.
A bitter laugh escaped him.
Almost. Again.
His fingers twitched instinctively, and translucent windows unfolded before his eyes.
The system.
Still cracked. Still incomplete.
But it was there.
Ren sat up slowly and opened his status panel, forcing himself to look at it properly this time—not with excitement, but with caution.
[System Interface Activated]
Name: Ren
Race: Human
Class: None
HP: Stable
MP: Stable
[Stats]
Strength: 22
Speed: 18
Mana: 14
Agility: 10
Intelligence: 16
Graceful Hand: 15 (Dextraity, precision, crafting control)
[Skills]
Martial Arts Lv. 3
Assassin Lv. 2
Weaver Lv. 3
Appraisal (Unregistered)
[Hero Level]: 1 Peak
[Points Remaining]: 200
[Currency Remaining]: 400,000 yen
Ren stared at the numbers for a long moment. Two hundred points. He could buy potions, new gear, or even upgrade his skills. Money, too, was plentiful—400,000 yen. The options were endless.
But Ren didn't feel excitement. He felt the weight of responsibility.
Every point spent wrong could get him killed.
Every skill chosen poorly could be the difference between surviving and dying alone in the wild.
He exhaled slowly, closing the interface. There was time for upgrades later. For now, survival came first.
He took a deep breath and opened the shop interface, purchasing two healing potions. Without hesitation, he drank one immediately, feeling the warmth spread through his body, dulling the aches and pains from his injuries.
[Item Purchased: Healing Potion x2]
[Points Remaining: 196]
With the pain subsiding, Ren moved to his next task. The bear's body lay just a few meters away, still fresh from the fight. He needed to harvest it for its materials. The wolves' pelts too—there was no waste.
But before that, he focused on himself.
Ren opened his stat screen again and allocated his points carefully:
Strength: +8 → 30
Speed: +6 → 24
Mana: +4 → 18
Agility: +2 → 12
Intelligence: +4 → 20
Graceful Hand: 15 (Unlocked precision for Weaver)
Martial Arts surged to Level 3, making Ren's strikes sharper, more fluid. He felt stronger and faster.
Next, Ren looked at the board spin that the system had given him. He stepped closer, his heartbeat quickening as he pressed the button to activate it.
The board spun, its creaking metal sending shivers down his spine. The choices were critical—he could get something that would aid him, or something that would make his journey more dangerous. His eyes locked onto the board as it slowed down.
The result was clear:
Level A Dagger
Ren picked it up, feeling the weight of the blade. It felt balanced in his hand, designed for quick strikes. It would help him survive, and perhaps even more than that—it was another reminder that he was no longer completely powerless.
His remaining points were still plenty. He could upgrade even more skills, buy potions, or purchase a teleportation card to escape a dangerous situation. The choices were endless, but Ren knew he had to be careful.
Weaver's Effect (Graceful Hand Synergy)
Ren turned his attention back to the bear's hide. He had already begun cutting it into strips, but there was a moment of hesitation.
Is it possible?
He paused, flexing his fingers.
He focused on Weaver, pushing his skill to its limit. Then something unexpected happened. His hands moved with a fluid precision that he hadn't realized was possible before. His skill responded naturally, effortlessly, as though the fibers themselves understood his intent.
He turned the cloth over, examining the texture.
The blood... it's gone.
The stench of death had faded.
Without any special tool or method, just the Weaver skill, Ren found that the smell of blood had been purified from the fabric.
[Weaver Lv. 3 - Passive Effect: Purification of Biological Contaminants]
Ren examined the cloak closely. Not only was it more durable and light, but now it was clean and odorless. His earlier confusion gave way to awe.
"So that's it… it's not just crafting. It's purification…"
The system was filled with subtleties Ren had yet to discover. This wasn't just an enhancement to his armor-making skills—it was another layer of survival. He was becoming something different.
A survivor.
Ren's hands still tingled with the remnants of Weaver's effect, but he didn't let the feeling distract him. He had work to do.
He finished stitching the bear's hide into a more practical cloak and made a basic cot for himself.
He then took the wolf pelts and, with Weaver's assistance, created sturdy, stealthy clothing perfect for moving unseen through the forest. Level 3 armor, designed for someone who lived in the shadows.
[Appraise]
Ren activated his Appraisal skill. It felt strange, knowing this was just a common skill for everyone else, but for him, it was still part of his system—albeit incomplete.
[Item: Armor]
Level: 3
Durability: High
Special Feature: Lightweight, stealth optimized
Ren smiled faintly. Stealth... this is what I need.
But something felt off. His status screen still seemed incomplete, his skills not fully registered, as if he was a lingering glitch.
Ren shrugged it off. He'd find a way to make it work. This world had its rules, but he didn't have to play by them.
With the cloak and armor complete, Ren lay back on the cot and closed his eyes, exhaustion finally overtaking him. The two wolves outside kept watch, a silent reminder that he was not entirely alone. He had survived today.
And tomorrow… he would survive again.