Izuku's escape route was blocked, and he had no means of contacting the outside world. The only option left was to press forward. Carefully, he descended the staircase, his steps deliberate as he tried to detect any lurking monsters. The flickering lights above buzzed intermittently, casting elongated shadows that seemed to dance across the walls like restless spirits. Each flicker plunged sections of the stairwell into momentary darkness, making Izuku's heart skip with every sudden shift.
"What should I do...? Can I even manage this?" Izuku wondered, doubt creeping into his thoughts. His hand instinctively reached for his phone, but the screen showed no signal—he was truly alone down here.
Upon reaching the bottom of the stairs, he sensed no immediate presence nearby. The underground mall stretched before him, an eerie ghost town of abandoned shops and scattered debris. He cautiously passed the restrooms with their dripping faucets and the underground shops with shattered display windows, the atmosphere growing heavier with every step. For someone like Izuku, who had frequented dungeons before, the smell in the air was unsettlingly familiar—a mixture of decay, stagnant water, and something primal.
"And what's that foul stench? Could it be... a beast-type monster?" he murmured to himself, his nerves on edge. He pressed his sleeve against his nose, trying to filter the putrid air that grew stronger with each step forward.
As Izuku walked past a dim hallway on his right, he noticed the temperature suddenly drop. His breath formed small clouds in front of his face, and his skin prickled with goosebumps. Then, a pair of glowing red eyes pierced through the darkness and locked onto him—unblinking, hungry, predatory. In an instant, a monstrous figure lunged at him, its metallic jaw snapping open with a hydraulic hiss, ready to tear into him. The sound of claws scraping against concrete echoed through the empty mall.
"A wolf?" he exclaimed, his eyes widening as he took in the creature before him, his body reacting before his mind could fully process the danger.
Reacting with instincts honed from previous dungeon crawls, Izuku threw himself sideways, rolling across the floor as the beast's jaws snapped shut where his torso had been just moments ago. The impact of the monster's landing cracked the tile floor, sending fragments skittering across the ground.
The beast was unlike anything he'd encountered before. Its fur was a deep, menacing red that seemed to absorb the scant light around it rather than reflect it. Its jaw was reinforced with gleaming metal fixed into a permanent snarl, with serrated teeth that could likely shred through steel. The crimson glow of its eyes burned with predatory intent, tracking Izuku's every movement with unnatural precision. Its muscles rippled beneath its hide as it stalked forward, and its sheer size rivaled that of an SUV. Above the creature, a title shimmered faintly in the air like heat distortion, marking its identity:
[Iron-jawed Lycan]
Izuku tightened his stance, his feet finding firm positions on the floor as his hands raised defensively. The Lycan's breath came out in steaming clouds as it growled, the sound vibrating through Izuku's chest, a clear warning of the battle ahead.
"I can barely handle a couple of goblins... How am I supposed to stand a chance against that thing?" Izuku's heart pounded in his chest, each beat hammering against his ribcage like a desperate prisoner. Cold sweat trickled down his face, leaving glistening trails along his pale skin as panic began to settle in his bones.
Then, a chilling realization struck him—something was wrong with his body. His muscles tensed but refused to respond to his commands.
"My legs... They won't move!" he muttered, his voice trembling like autumn leaves in a harsh wind. He tried again, straining with all his might, but his limbs remained stubbornly frozen in place.
"Why? Am I scared? Is this fear paralyzing me?" Izuku's mind raced frantically. "I didn't think I was still this shaken from that experience..." Dark memories of the double dungeon flashed before his eyes, each one a stark reminder of his mortality.
His thoughts spiraled as the Iron-jawed Lycan lowered its massive head, muscles bunching beneath its crimson coat. With a guttural growl that vibrated through the empty mall, the beast charged at him with ferocious speed, each powerful stride closing the distance between predator and prey.
"Damn it!" Izuku cursed under his breath, adrenaline finally breaking through the paralysis. He forced his body to react, commanding his legs to move despite their reluctance. At the last second, he managed to dodge to the right, the wolf's metal jaws snapping shut with a hydraulic hiss mere inches from his face. The rush of displaced air brushed against his cheek, carrying the monster's rancid breath.
"I can't afford to get hurt here!" he reminded himself, his mind racing as he stumbled back to his feet. "There's no one around to heal me this time, no backup, no safety net." His eyes darted around the desolate mall, confirming what he already knew—he was entirely alone in this fight.
The Lycan skidded to a halt, claws scratching against the tile floor as it whirled around. Its eyes locked onto Izuku once more, burning with predatory intelligence. It lunged again, teeth bared and ready to tear through flesh and bone.
Something shifted in Izuku's consciousness—not thought but pure instinct. His body moved on its own, throwing itself into a one-handed handstand flip that he'd never attempted before. The move was clumsy and unrefined, sending him crashing into the wall of a nearby storefront, leaving him momentarily upside down, staring directly into the glowing red eyes of his predator.
"What the...?" he thought, bewildered by his movement. The world seemed to slow down around him, giving him a moment of clarity despite his precarious position.
Without hesitation, he pushed off the wall with surprising strength, propelling himself back into the air in a flip that would have made gymnasts envious. To his astonishment, it felt as though gravity itself had loosened its grip on him, allowing him to hang in the air for a heartbeat longer than should have been possible.
"My body... It feels so light like I'm floating," Izuku realized, his thoughts shifting from fear to curiosity as he hovered momentarily, defying the limits of what he believed possible. Below him, the wolf tilted its massive head upward, its mechanical jaw slightly ajars in what almost looked like confusion.
Izuku landed back on the ground with surprising grace, his feet barely making a sound against the cracked tiles. The moment of reprieve was brief—the Lycan immediately recovered and dashed at him again, its metallic maw opening wide, ready to clamp down on his torso.
Time seemed to slow again. At that moment, something broke free within Izuku—a dam of determination crashing through the walls of fear.
"I almost died already," he thought, a fire igniting in his chest. "I won't succumb to my fear anymore!" His internal voice rose to a mental shout, fueled by anger and the primal instinct to survive.
"I can't die so meaninglessly here!"
As if responding to his resolve, a whitish-yellow aura suddenly materialized around his clenched fist. The energy crackled and hummed with power, illuminating the dim mall corridor with its glow. Without thinking, Izuku pivoted on his heel, channeling all his newfound strength into an uppercut that connected squarely with the Lycan's jaw.
The impact produced a sound like a thunderclap in the enclosed space. The massive beast was sent flying backward, its body spinning through the air before smashing through the concrete wall of a clothing store in an explosion of dust and debris.
Izuku stood frozen, his arm still extended from the punch, the aura around his fist slowly fading away. He stared at his hand in disbelief, turning it over as if seeing it for the first time.
"How the hell did I do that?" he whispered, flexing his fingers experimentally. They felt normal—no pain, no strain as if he hadn't just punched with enough force to send a creature four times his weight through solid concrete. "Is it because I invested my stat points in my strength attribute? But..."
A low growl interrupted his thoughts. Through the settling dust, Izuku could see the silhouette of the Iron-jawed Lycan walking out of the rubble, shaking debris from its crimson coat. Its metal jaw was dented from the impact, but still functional. Its eyes burned with renewed fury as it fixed its gaze on Izuku once more.
"That thing is still stronger than me," Izuku thought grimly, settling back into a defensive stance. His momentary victory hadn't even fazed the creature. If anything, he'd only managed to make it angrier.
The Lycan lunged again, its hulking form tearing through the air with terrifying speed. Izuku braced himself, countering the attack with a flurry of frantic punches. Each strike connected squarely with the beast's thick hide, but it felt like pounding against solid stone—unyielding and impervious.
"This isn't working," he thought bitterly, a sharp pain already flaring in his knuckles. "Bare fists can't cut it against these monsters. Even a basic one like this is still stronger than me..."
He dodged to the side just in time, narrowly avoiding the creature's claws. The Lycan's momentum sent it crashing into a nearby wall with a deafening impact. Concrete exploded into fragments, dust and debris raining down as the beast pulled itself free. Its crimson fur bristled as it shook off the rubble, and Izuku's sharp eyes caught a glint of metal between its jaws—shards of rebar from the wall, now tangled in its metallic teeth. The already-lethal bite had become even deadlier.
"What now?" Izuku muttered, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he darted backward, sneakers squealing against the slick tile floor. His mind raced, but no solution came to him.
The Lycan recovered quickly, its glowing red eyes locking onto him with renewed fury. It pounced with unnerving precision, and this time, Izuku wasn't fast enough. Its jaws clamped down on his leg, the jagged metal teeth slicing through denim and flesh with horrifying ease. Agony shot up his limb like wildfire as the beast tore away, leaving behind a deep, gory wound.
"Argh!" Izuku screamed, stumbling back against a shattered storefront. Blood poured freely from the gash, staining his pant leg a vivid crimson. His ankle throbbed with searing pain, threatening to buckle beneath him.
"No healer... no backup..." he muttered through gritted teeth, pressing his trembling hand against the wound in a desperate attempt to slow the bleeding. "No gear to help me. Do I even haveanythingthat can take this thing down?"
The Lycan began to circle him, its movements were predatory and deliberate, savoring its advantage. Its maw dripped with his blood, and the eerie glow of its red eyes seemed to intensify, as though it could sense his waning strength and resolve.
But then, like a spark igniting in the void, an idea struck him—a last, desperate gamble.
"Open Inventory!" Izuku shouted, his voice echoing through the desolate, wrecked mall.
The air in front of him shimmered and warped, solidifying into a glowing blue panel. He had almost forgotten about this ability—a strange, game-like feature that always felt natural in dungeons but oddly surreal in the real world.
Without hesitation, he thrust his hand into the panel. The sensation was unlike anything else, like plunging into cool, weightless water. Sparks of blue energy crackled around his wrist as his fingers closed around something solid within the interface.
"Finally," he muttered, a grim smile tugging at his lips as he felt the familiar heft of the object in his grip. "Although... why isthisin my inventory?"
The Lycan, sensing the shift in its prey, snarled and charged, its massive jaws wide open for the kill. Izuku yanked harder, pulling the object free from the glowing panel. A leather-wrapped handle emerged first, followed swiftly by the gleaming edge of a blade.
Time seemed to slow as the beast closed in, its claws outstretched and its maw ready to snap shut. Acting purely on instinct, Izuku swung the weapon upward in a powerful vertical arc, aiming directly at the oncoming threat.
The blade caught the dim, flickering light of the mall as it fully materialized—a polished, deadly sword. It cut through the air with a sharp, menacing whistle.
SHUNK!
The enchanted blade met the Lycan with brutal finality. It cleaved through the creature's skull with ease, continuing downward to split its massive body clean in two. For an instant, the halves of the beast seemed suspended in midair, as if resisting the inevitability of their demise. Then gravity took over, and the mutilated remains collapsed to the floor in a spreading pool of dark, viscous blood.
(Notification.)
[You have defeated Iron-jawed Lycan.]
[You have leveled up.]
Izuku stood frozen, the sword still extended from the follow-through of his swing. Its edge dripped with the Lycan's fluids, gleaming faintly under the flickering mall lights. His chest rose and fell with labored breaths as the realization of what had just happened began to sink in.
"This is... Mr. Kim's sword from the Double Dungeon," he murmured, his eyes widening as he stared at the weapon in stunned disbelief. The blade radiated a sharper, more menacing aura than he remembered. "How did this end up in my inventory?"
The metallic scrape of claws against concrete reverberated through the desolate mall, a haunting sound that sent a chill racing down Izuku's spine. He turned cautiously, his sword still slick with the blood of the first Lycan, to confront two more of the Iron-jawed beasts emerging from the shadows. Their glowing red eyes radiated a predatory intelligence, and their rippling muscles shifted beneath crimson fur as they advanced with calculated precision.
This time, however, the fear that had paralyzed Izuku earlier was replaced by an eerie sense of calm. He tightened his grip on the sword, its familiar weight grounding him amidst the chaos.
"As long as I have a weapon, fear has no place," Izuku muttered, his voice steady with newfound resolve as he raised the blade defensively.
But his confidence wavered when he attempted to adjust his stance. The sword's tip had somehow lodged itself between the floor tiles, wedged firmly into the concrete.
"Damn it! It's stuck!" Izuku growled, yanking at the hilt with all his strength. His injured leg throbbed in protest, forcing him to fight for balance.
The Lycans, sensing his vulnerability, exchanged what appeared to be knowing glances before launching themselves in unison. Their mechanical jaws gaped wide, revealing rows of gleaming metal teeth designed for destruction.
"Come on, come on!" Izuku yelled, his muscles straining as he pulled at the embedded sword. The first Lycan closed the distance rapidly, its hot breath visible in the frigid air of the abandoned mall.
Finally, with a sound like shattering glass, the sword broke free. Izuku barely had time to react, his movements driven purely by instinct. The enchanted blade whistled through the air, striking the first Lycan mid-leap.
The strike was devastating. The blade tore through fur and muscle with ease, carving a deep gash across the creature's chest. Dark blood sprayed in a wide arc as the Lycan crashed to the ground, skidding several feet before coming to a halt. Its claws raked deep grooves into the tile as it struggled to rise.
Before Izuku could regain his footing, the second Lycan lunged. Its jaws clamped down hard on the blade itself, the grinding of metal against enchanted steel sending painful vibrations up Izuku's arms. He gritted his teeth, fighting to maintain his grip.
"I guess they don't call you Iron-Jawed for nothing!" Izuku spat, his voice strained. "But hey, this sword isn't your chew toy!"
The Lycan growled, its immense jaw strength threatening to wrench the weapon from his hands. Izuku could feel the overwhelming power of the creature, far surpassing his own, even with his enhanced abilities. But instead of retreating, he pressed forward, using the Lycan's resistance against it.
With a sudden burst of strength, Izuku twisted the blade sharply and drove it sideways. The maneuver caught the beast off guard, causing it to stumble. In that fleeting moment of vulnerability, Izuku freed the sword and swung it in a decisive horizontal arc.
The blade sliced cleanly through the Lycan's midsection, severing its spine. For a brief moment, the creature remained upright, its glowing eyes wide with what almost seemed like a shock. Then, its upper body slid from its lower half, both pieces collapsing to the ground with a sickening thud.
Blood pooled around the lifeless remains, steam rising from the still-warm flesh as it spread across the cold tile. The first Lycan, though grievously wounded, had managed to rise again. It now stood frozen, staring at its fallen companion with something that resembled hesitation—or perhaps even fear.
Izuku wiped a streak of blood from his cheek, his breathing calm despite the strain of the battle. He turned to face the remaining Lycan, the sword resting confidently at his side.
"You know," he said, a grim smile tugging at his lips, "Compared to those guys, you're puppies are weak."
The surviving Lycan took an uncertain step back, its mechanical jaw clicking as though calculating its odds. With a final defiant growl, it turned and retreated, its claws skittering against the tile as it vanished into the shadows from which it had emerged.
Izuku stood motionless, watching until the creature's glowing red eyes disappeared completely. Only then did he exhale deeply, the tension in his body dissipating. The sword in his hand felt lighter now, almost as if it approved of how he had wielded it. Then another notification popped up on the panel, its ethereal blue glow casting strange shadows across Izuku's blood-spattered face.
(Notification.)
[You have defeated Iron-jawed Lycan.]
[Your body will be healed since you're not in combat.]
"That's... convenient," Izuku murmured, tentatively putting weight on the healed limb. It felt perfectly normal, as though he'd never been injured at all. He flexed his foot experimentally, marveling at the absence of pain.
With the immediate danger gone and his wounds healed, Izuku's curiosity got the better of him. He swiped his hand through the air, bringing up his status panel. The translucent blue interface materialized before him, numbers and text hovering in the space.
[Player status]
Name: Izuku Midoriya
Level: 2
Class: None
Title: None
Fatigue: 3
HP: 220
MP: 22
Strength: 31
Dexterity: 11
Perception: 11
Vitality: 11
Intelligence: 35
Izuku's eyes narrowed as he studied the values. "My strength attribute is much higher than before," he whispered, clenching and unclenching his fist. "That explains how I sent that first Lycan flying. And my intelligence... why is that so high?"
He ran his fingers through his sweat-dampened hair, trying to make sense of it all. The sword in his other hand seemed to pulse with a faint energy as if responding to his thoughts.
"Probably my natural intelligence. Shouldn't it be higher if that's what it's measuring?" Izuku mused, his frown deepening as he studied the glowing status panel. The numbers stared back, unchanging, mocking his doubts.
His thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a low, guttural growl reverberating from the shadowy hallway. Izuku's head snapped up, his body instinctively tensing. The sound was unmistakable. Emerging from the darkness was the same Lycan that had fled earlier, its iron jaws gleaming under the dim light. This time, it wasn't alone. Six more Iron-jawed Lycans followed close behind, their red, coal-like eyes burning with predatory intent, their mechanical jaws clicking rhythmically as if savoring the hunt.
"So, you brought reinforcements," Izuku muttered, a sardonic grin spreading across his face, blood streaking his cheeks. He tightened his grip on the sword in his hand, its weight a reassuring anchor in the chaos. "Fine by me. You're all just experience points waiting to happen."
The lead Lycan growled louder, almost as if it understood the insult. The pack fanned out in a semicircle, their movements eerily synchronized, displaying a level of coordination far beyond ordinary beasts. Izuku inhaled deeply, steadying his nerves, and without hesitation, he charged forward, his sword raised.
The first Lycan lunged, but Izuku's blade was faster. It sang through the air, slicing cleanly through its throat. A spray of dark blood splattered across the floor, painting the tiles in crimson streaks. The second Lycan barely had time to react before its front limb was severed. Izuku precisely reversed his swing, decapitating the creature in one fluid motion.
"Is that all you've got?" he taunted, pivoting sharply to face the next attacker.
A blur of motion from his blind spot caught him off guard. One of the Lycans lunged, its iron jaws clamping down on the hood of his jacket with a ferocious grip. The sudden force yanked him backward, the fabric tightening around his neck. Before he could react, the pack closed in, encircling him in a deadly ring of snapping jaws and razor-sharp claws.
Despite the escalating danger, Izuku felt an unusual calm wash over him. His breathing steadied, and his grip on the sword remained firm. He scanned the circle of monsters, his green eyes blazing with determination.
"If you want me dead," he shouted, his voice echoing through the desolate mall, "then come and get me! But don't expect me to make it easy for you."
As the words left his mouth, a peculiar sensation stirred in his left eye—a cool, pulsating energy that synchronized with the rhythm of his heartbeat. The Lycans hesitated, their aggressive postures faltering as they collectively took a step back. Unbeknownst to Izuku, his left eye now glowed with an ethereal blue light, cutting through the shadows like a beacon.
Seizing the moment, Izuku surged forward, breaking free of the encirclement. His movements were faster, sharper, almost superhuman. The blade in his hands became an extension of his will, slicing through fur, flesh, and bone with surgical precision. One by one, the Lycans fell, their mechanical growls silenced as they crumpled to the ground.
(Notification.)
[You have leveled up.]
[You have leveled up.]
[You have leveled up.]
[You have leveled up.]
"I will fight with everything I have," Izuku vowed silently, his thoughts crystallizing with newfound clarity. "As long as I can still stand, I won't give up." His sword, now glowing faintly with a blue aura, cleaved through another Lycan, leaving a luminous trail in its wake. "I'll never let myself be weak again."
A sharp pain shot across his back as a Lycan's claws raked against him, shredding his jacket but barely scratching his skin. Izuku spun on his heel, driving his sword through the creature's chest in one decisive thrust.
"I can't afford to die here," he thought, images of his mother's worried face flashing in his mind. "If I fall, I lose everything—my family, my dreams, my future." With a powerful swing, he forced three Lycans back, their snarls turning to whimpers as they retreated momentarily.
He positioned himself against a nearby pillar, using it to shield his back. Blood—his own and the Lycans'—dripped from his torn clothes, pooling at his feet. Yet his stance remained unwavering, his resolve unshaken.
"No more running. No more excuses," Izuku declared, his voice rising with conviction. "If playing this ridiculous game is what it takes to grow stronger, then so be it!"
The lead Lycan, the one that had initially retreated, now barreled forward in a final, frenzied assault. Izuku locked eyes with the beast, unyielding, as the blue glow in his gaze flared brighter, searing with determination. Letting out a thunderous war cry that reverberated through the desolate, crumbling mall, he launched himself into the fray.
"Let's rumba, mutts!"
—Timeskip—
Izuku strode purposefully toward the subway station, his senses heightened after hours of combat. The flickering emergency lights cast long shadows across the abandoned terminal, illuminating patches of cracked tile and discarded luggage. As he neared the escalator, a soft growl from the darkness made him freeze. His eyes caught movement—more wolves emerging from the shadows, their predatory gazes fixed on him, muscles coiled to strike. Their fur was matted with dried blood, some bearing scars from previous encounters with other prey—or perhaps even hunters like himself.
Without hesitation, Izuku shifted his stance, feet planted firmly on the ground as he gripped his sword with both hands. The wolves circled him, their movements synchronized like dancers in a lethal ballet. The lead wolf—larger than the others with a distinctive gray patch over one eye—lunged first. Izuku sidestepped with practiced ease, his blade whistling through the air as it connected with the beast's flank.
The ensuing battle was swift and relentless. Izuku moved with newfound confidence, each strike deliberate and effective. The wolves attacked in waves, but they were no match for his enhanced abilities. Within minutes, the skirmish ended, leaving a grim scene of lifeless wolf carcasses strewn across the cold concrete floor of the station. Blood pooled between the tiles, creating dark rivers that flowed toward the train tracks below.
Breathing heavily, sweat beading on his forehead despite the underground chill, Izuku inspected his weapon. The blade that had served him well through countless encounters now bore the unmistakable scars of battle. Deep notches marked its once-smooth edge, and a hairline crack ran from the hilt halfway up the blade.
"The blade is chipped and cracked," he muttered, running his fingers over its worn edge. His voice echoed softly in the empty station, mingling with the distant drip of water from somewhere in the darkness. "I guess every weapon, no matter how well-made, has its limits. Even something as expensive as this can't withstand endless raids without taking damage."
He paused, gripping the hilt tightly as a faint smile crossed his lips. The sword felt like an old friend now, an extension of his arm rather than just a tool. "Thanks, buddy. Without you, I couldn't have made it through this." His gaze lingered on the blade for a moment, taking in every dent and scratch like badges of honor, before shifting to the fallen wolves. A mix of exhaustion and determination flickered in his eyes as a blue notification appeared before him.
[Title: Wolf Slayer
Effect: Grants a 40% boost to all stats when engaged in combat against beast-type monsters. Recognized as a mark of exceptional skill in hunting wolves.]
"A new title," Izuku whispered, the blue light reflecting in his eyes. He flexed his fingers, wondering if he could already feel the effects of the stat boost. With a wave of his hand, he opened his inventory, scrolling through the items he'd collected during his journey through the abandoned mall and subway system.
"Let's see. 34 Wolffangs, still sharp and glistening with saliva. Two rusty daggers that might come in handy for close-quarters combat. A Traveler's cloak that seems to repel both water and blood equally well." His eyes widened slightly as he spotted something else. "And oh! A teleportation stone. That was easier to find than I thought."
He summoned the teleportation stone, a smooth, polished rock that pulsed with inner light. It felt warm in his palm, vibrating gently as if eager to be used. The temptation to return to safety tugged at him, a whisper of reason in the back of his mind.
"Should I head back?" he pondered, weighing the stone in his hand. Images of his mother flashed through his mind—her worried face, her gentle hands. The comfort of home seemed so far away now, like a half-remembered dream. He shook his head, resolution hardening his features. "No... There's no telling if I'll get another opportunity to become stronger so quickly."
With decisive movements, Izuku placed the teleportation stone back into his inventory. The blue light winked out as the menu closed, leaving him once again in the dim glow of the emergency lights. He rolled his shoulders, feeling the pleasant ache of muscles growing stronger, and began to move deeper into the subway tunnel. The darkness ahead seemed to shift and writhe, promising more challenges—and more opportunities.
As he ventured forward, the tunnel opened into what appeared to be an underground concourse, once filled with shops and commuters but now home to various magic beasts. Izuku dispatched them methodically, his movements becoming more fluid and instinctive with each encounter. Blue notifications appeared with increasing frequency.
(Notification.)
[You have leveled up.]
[You have leveled up.]
Izuku paused to catch his breath, leaning against a pillar covered in faded advertisements for movies that would never premiere. He could feel the difference in his body—muscles responding faster, thoughts clearer, instincts sharper.
"Each time I level up... It's gradually getting easier to fight the monsters," he observed, watching as a minor wound on his forearm closed itself, leaving behind only a thin red line as evidence of the injury. "My recovery time is improving too."
He pushed off from the pillar and continued his exploration, delving deeper into the underground complex. The beasts he encountered grew more varied and dangerous—no longer just wolves, but creatures he had never seen before, not even in his extensive hero research.
(Notification.)
[You've killed a Razor-Clawed Briga.]
The notification appeared after he defeated a hunched, humanoid creature with elongated arms ending in scythe-like claws. Its skin had been a mottled gray, eyes milky white and unseeing, yet it had tracked his movements with uncanny precision.
Further along, in what must have been a maintenance area, he encountered shadowy beings that seemed to phase in and out of existence, striking from unexpected angles. Only his enhanced reflexes saved him from serious injury.
(Notification.)
[You've killed a Shadow Razan.]
[You've killed a Shadow Razan.]
These creatures left behind no corpses, merely dissipating into wisps of dark smoke that clung to his clothing before fading away. Their attacks had felt like ice against his skin, numbing wherever they touched.
Izuku found a secure corner with clear sightlines in all directions and took a moment to rest. His breath formed small clouds in the increasingly cold air of the deep tunnels. He took a swig from his water bottle, savoring the cool liquid against his parched throat.
"I can definitely feel myself getting stronger," he murmured, flexing his hand and watching the interplay of tendons and muscles beneath his skin. The changes were subtle but undeniable—his body was adapting to this new reality with remarkable speed.
As Izuku allowed himself this brief respite, his gaze fell upon the corpse of a Lycan he had defeated earlier, its mechanical jaw now still and silent. Something clicked in his mind as he recalled the numerous notifications he had received during his battles.
"I see..." he said, studying the fallen creature with newfound understanding. "Depending on the color of the titles determines how strong they are. White letters show that they're relatively weak..." He remembered the wolves at the entrance, their names displayed in simple white text. "Orange is on par with me or slightly stronger." The Lycans had appeared in orange when he first encountered them.
"And I'm guessing red means they're really strong," he concluded, a shiver of anticipation—or perhaps apprehension—running down his spine at the thought of what red-titled monsters might be waiting in the deeper darkness. "Considering how these Lycans had orange names when I got started, and now they're white, I must have gotten pretty strong."
"But this is probably nowhere near enough if I want to beat that thing down there." Izuku stared at the staircase descending deeper into the station, his enhanced perception detecting a menacing purple aura wafting upward like toxic smoke. A chill ran down his spine that had nothing to do with the underground dampness. "Creepy. I don't know if it's because of my higher perception stat now... but I can definitely tell... that thing down there... that monster."
He swallowed hard, fingers tightening around the hilt of his damaged sword. The weight of it in his hand was reassuring, despite the cracks spiderwebbing across its surface.
"It's got to be incredibly strong," he whispered to himself, his voice barely audible over the distant drip of water. "And it doesn't seem like I'll level up much more by fighting these weaker enemies."
Izuku opened his status window, the blue light illuminating his face as he assessed his progress:
[Player status]
Name: Izuku Midoriya
Level: 15
Class: None
Title: None
Fatigue: 30
HP: 1105
MP: 200
Strength: 45
Dexterity: 24
Perception: 24
Vitality: 24
Intelligence: 40
Izuku frowned, noticing his title had been omitted from the display. Was it a glitch? Or perhaps titles weren't considered part of the base status? Regardless of the reason, he knew the Wolf Slayer title had enhanced his abilities during recent battles, the effects undeniable.
Running his thumb along the edge of his claymore, he felt the jagged notches carved into the once-smooth blade. A testament to the countless fights he had endured since his journey began. "It's probably not worth fighting weaker monsters anymore," he murmured, testing the sword's integrity as the metal emitted a discordant hum. "This sword feels like it could break any second."
Taking a deep breath, Izuku began his descent down the staircase. Each step echoed ominously in the cavernous space, the sound amplifying as though the staircase itself stretched endlessly downward. Each turn revealed yet more steps, spiraling into the unknown. "Is it just me, or does this staircase go on forever?" he muttered, pausing mid-step. He placed a hand against the wall to steady himself as a wave of vertigo overtook him. The concrete was unexpectedly warm, a sensation that sent a shiver down his spine.
As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, a familiar tiling pattern caught his attention. He squinted, recognition dawning. "Wait... is this Hapjeong Station? But I was nowhere near—" His voice trailed off, the implications sinking in. This dungeon was far larger than he had initially thought, or perhaps it utilized some kind of warped spatial magic to connect disparate parts of the city.
Either way, the realization left him uneasy.
After what felt like an eternity, Izuku finally reached the bottom of the staircase. The oppressive confines of the stairwell gave way to an expansive field blanketed in lush, ankle-high grass. The blades swayed gently despite the absence of wind. Above him, the ceiling had vanished, replaced by an open sky that glowed with an eerie blue-green hue. Yet Izuku knew better—this was no sky. They were still deep underground, and the false daylight only added to the surreal atmosphere.
"What the—" His words were cut short by a deep rumbling. The ground quaked beneath him, vibrations growing stronger with each passing second. Alarmed, Izuku widened his stance, muscles tensing as his eyes darted across the field. His heightened senses picked up a blur of movement to his left—something massive and impossibly fast.
Without warning, a blue, scaly tail as thick as a telephone pole whipped out from the tall grass. Izuku barely managed to raise his claymore in defense before the tail struck. The impact was catastrophic, far surpassing anything he had encountered in the tunnels above. His sword bore the brunt of the blow, but the metal shrieked in protest before shattering completely.
The remaining force hurled him backward, slamming his body into a jagged stone outcropping.
Pain exploded through his back and skull as he crumpled to the ground, his vision swimming with dark spots. "What the hell was that?" he gasped, blood pooling in his mouth. He spat to the side, wiping his lip with the back of his hand, leaving a crimson streak across his skin.
As his vision cleared, his gaze fell to the shattered remnants of his claymore scattered across the grass like shards of broken stars. The largest piece, the hilt with a jagged foot of blade still attached, lay closest to him. A sinking feeling settled in his chest.
"Shit," he groaned, the word a mixture of frustration and pain. His trusted weapon, the one that had seen him through countless battles, was now reduced to debris in a single strike. He reached for the broken hilt, forcing himself to his feet despite the trembling in his legs. His HP bar had taken a significant hit from that single attack, and the realization of just how dangerous this foe was began to set in.
"I thought I leveled up pretty high..." he muttered under his breath, clutching the hilt tightly. But as the ground rumbled once more, he realized that whatever lay before him was far beyond anything he had prepared for.
Through the swaying grass, a colossal figure emerged—a serpent stretching an intimidating thirty feet in length, its body as thick as a compact car. Its shimmering blue scales gleamed like polished sapphires under the eerie light, interrupted by vivid crimson patterns that ran along its length, culminating at its wedge-shaped head. The creature's eyes radiated a sinister intelligence, their slitted pupils locking onto Izuku with unnerving precision.
Hovering above the monstrous serpent in Izuku's vision was its title:
[Blue Venom-Fanged Kasaka, King of the Swamp]
Izuku's heartbeat thundered in his chest as he gripped the broken claymore tightly, shifting it into a reverse grip. Though fear gripped him, a familiar resolve ignited within—a fiery determination that had always driven him to stand tall, even in a world where he had been born quirkless. This was the essence of his heroic spirit, refusing to back down, no matter the odds.
"Let that thing's name still show up as orange..." he muttered under his breath, noting with unease that despite his recent level gains, the creature was still considered a formidable match. The serpent reared back, its massive hood flaring wide as it released a hiss that sounded like steam escaping under pressure. Its elongated mouth revealed four gleaming fangs, each dripping with viscous blue venom that sizzled and burned wherever it touched the grass.
Izuku steadied himself, shifting into a combat stance with the broken claymore held firmly before him like a protective ward. His sharp eyes narrowed, scanning the enemy, calculating every detail, and formulating a plan. This meticulous approach had always been his strength—even before he found himself thrust into this strange new reality.
"So you're the boss around here?" he called out, his voice calm and steady despite the turmoil within. The Kasaka responded only with another menacing hiss, its coiled body taut and primed for a deadly strike.
To be continued.