Chapter 60: The Unexpected!
The hunt had only just begun.
His understanding of the dagger, its rhythm, its killing tempo, its philosophy, had begun to deepen. Every motion now carried intent. Every breath was aligned with the blade.
But then, he heard it.
Multiple footsteps. Dozens!
Bruce looked up, his gaze narrowing. The faint echoes of laughter from the hyena he had slain moments ago still lingered in his memory.
’So that laugh... it wasn’t a cry of pain,’ he realized coldly. ’It was a call. A signal to the rest of the pack.’
The sound came from every direction now: rapid footfalls, rustling grass, shifting shadows. A normal adventurer would have panicked at the thought of being surrounded. But Bruce only sighed.
His pulse didn’t rise. His expression didn’t change. Instead, he calmly lifted his wrist.
"Ranking," he said ever so casually.
The smart bracelet responded instantly, projecting a shimmering hologram into the dry air. Lines of data scrolled across the light-blue screen, showing the current standings.
[RANKINGS]
[Jean Frost — Points: 50]
[Sophie Reign — Points: 35]
[Ozai Thorne — Points: 28]
[Bruce Ackerman — Points: 21]
[Aria Stormheart — Points: 18]
[Dominic Savior — Points: 10]
[Luke Drot — Points: 10]
[Bale Las — Points: 5]
...
Bruce’s eyes lingered on the top name for a moment.
"Jean Frost," he murmured under his breath. The name was unfamiliar, but the gender wasn’t hard to guess. A faint smirk curved his lips.
’That white-haired girl... of course. No one else could amass fifty points this fast, it must be her unique weapon.’
The memory of her weapon flashed in his mind, the twin-bladed bow, elegant yet deadly, capable of shifting from long-range precision to close-range slaughter in a single motion.
’With a weapon like that, her versatility is unmatched. Long-range or mid-range, she can handle both effortlessly.’
He wasn’t jealous, after all his true weapon red, beats hers in versatility since he could turn red to any weapon he wished, so he wasn’t jealous at all.
If anything, he was intrigued. The dagger he wielded inside this VR world was only a digital echo of Red, his real weapon. He couldn’t summon Red here; the system had locked external constructs. Still, a dagger was close enough. It was the same shape, the same weight, the same intimate connection between steel and hand.
And after Vaelith’s lessons, Bruce was beginning to realize why the dagger was the perfect choice for him.
’Precision. Control. Intent. That’s all I need.’
His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden wave of sound.
Laughter...
Dozens of voices, harsh, rasping, and animalistic, overlapped in the air.
The sound grew louder as shadows moved through the tall grass around him. One by one, the shapes emerged: Mutant laughing hyenas, their mottled fur bristling, their red eyes gleaming like embers in the dying light.
And they were laughing.
HEEYEEEE!
HEHIHIH-HEEEYE!!
HEHIHIHI-HEYEYE!!!
HIEEEYIIII!!!!
HIEEHIHI-HIYEEE!!!!!
The grotesque laughter echoed through the savannah, blending into an unholy chorus that crawled under the skin.
To most, it would have sounded like the mocking song of death. But Bruce only tilted his head, unimpressed.
’So that’s how it is...’
He stood still, hands relaxed by his sides, his expression calm, almost bored. The hyenas circled tighter, pacing cautiously. None dared strike first. They could sense it too, that faint, suffocating presence radiating from him.
Even surrounded on all sides, Bruce didn’t move an inch.
To the beasts, it was like encircling a still pond that somehow reflected the night sky, serene on the surface but bottomless underneath.
The laughter rose again, louder this time, filling the air like a storm of madness.
Bruce exhaled slowly, his patience wearing thin.
"That laugh," he muttered, eyes narrowing. "It’s really starting to annoy me."
When they noticed his gaze, calm, unshaken, and almost mocking, it was as if instinct itself screamed danger into their skulls.
And just like that, they all moved.
The hyenas lunged from every direction at once, claws raking the dirt, jaws wide open with their grotesque laughter echoing through the savannah.
Bruce didn’t flinch.
"HAHA! Hahahaha!! Hahahaha!!!"
Before the beasts could even close the remaining distance, he broke into a mad laugh of his own, mirroring theirs, his voice rising like a man welcoming the chaos instead of fearing it.
SWOOSH-!
Steel flashed!
His daggers left their sheaths with a soft hiss, and the world instantly slowed around him.
He enhanced his hearing with Heal, channeling regenerative energy into his auditory nerves, amplifying every sound around him: the crack of dirt beneath paws, the flutter of air displaced by claws, the faint scrape of teeth grinding together.
He could hear everything!
When the first beast leapt, Bruce moved.
A blur of silver arcs cut through the air. A single slash, clean, efficient, final. The hyena’s head flew before it even realized it was dead.
Another came from his right. A pivot, a twist, another slash. The second beast collapsed, throat neatly opened.
And another!
And another!!
Each strike carried purpose. Each motion was a reflection of control. He flowed between them like water, every movement smooth and unhurried, the daggers singing through the air in elegant, deadly rhythm.
To an observer, it would have looked less like a battle and more like a dance, graceful, precise, intoxicatingly lethal.
His aura spread outward, invisible yet suffocating. The beasts could feel it. The more they charged, the more they hesitated at the last second, caught between instinct and terror.
He was strong, terrifyingly strong.
Each swing tore through flesh like it was paper. Each dodge was perfect, timed to the rhythm of breath and heartbeat.
And Bruce was enjoying it.
The thrill coursed through his veins like fire. This was where he felt alive, within the storm, where death laughed in his face and he laughed back louder.
He moved faster, sharper, his body continuously reinforced by Heal. His eyes glowed faintly, his vision enhanced, his tendons and muscles constantly repaired themselves, keeping him at peak efficiency.
But there was a cost.
His mana pool in this simulation was small, limited to what the VR system could handle, and he knew it. He couldn’t keep this pace forever.
Still, that was fine. He had already accounted for that.
The system notifications kept flashing faintly at the edge of his vision:
[You’ve broken a rib!]
[Laceration detected on left arm!!]
[Right shoulder dislocated!!!]
With each injury, his thought would echo: ’Heal!’
[Heal activated. You’ve adapted to...]
Each injury was instantly erased the moment his Heal activated, his A-ranked body getting stronger with each passing second.
The more he fought, the more the battlefield became a crimson ballet—hyenas dropping one after another, their laughter replaced by silence.
But then, something moved.
A blur, faster than the others. A shadow darting low through the chaos.
Bruce barely had a fraction of a second to react.
Before he could pivot, it was already there—an enormous hyena, its fur darker than the rest, its eyes glowing crimson. It lunged from behind, jaws opening wide.
The next second, its massive maw clamped down on his leg.
BOOOOM!
The sound barrier shattered!
Dust and blood exploded outward with intense pressure that pushed majority of the beasts outwards...
A sharp, ripping pain shot up his body as the system flared:
[You’ve been bitten by a Maw with 50,000 psi of force.]