The square fell into a suffocating silence.
Moments ago, it had been filled with noise—arguments, bravado, nervous laughter. Now, it felt like a graveyard.
Marcus Hale was dead.
The same man who had shattered stone with his bare hands… the same one who had awakened a D-rank talent… had lasted less than ten seconds outside the barrier.
And the thing that killed him?
A rabbit.
No—
Not a rabbit.
Something wearing the shape of one.
Fear spread through the crowd like a slow-moving poison. No one needed to say it out loud—the reality had already sunk in.
If Marcus couldn't survive… what chance did the rest of them have?
"I-I don't want to go out there…" a girl's voice trembled from somewhere in the crowd. "If even someone like him died, then we're just walking to our deaths…"
Her words broke whatever fragile composure remained.
Panic erupted.
Some people began crying openly. Others argued. A few backed away from the barrier as if it might suddenly vanish and expose them to the horrors beyond.
Then—
"Silence."
The voice of the system crashed down again, cold and absolute.
[Notification: A Level 1 creature possesses approximately 3-star combat capability. Level 2 creatures possess 4-star capability, and so forth.]
[Combat rating reflects base attributes only. Talents are not included.]
[Reminder: The protective barrier will remain active for 7 days. During this time, creatures cannot enter. After 7 days, protection will cease.]
The message hit harder than any physical blow.
Three stars.
A Level 1 creature—something meant to be the weakest possible enemy—already stood at three stars.
Most of them were barely one.
The gap wasn't just large.
It was overwhelming.
"How are we supposed to fight that?" someone muttered, voice hollow.
No one answered.
Then, cutting cleanly through the rising panic, a firm voice spoke up.
"Losing your heads won't help anyone."
All eyes turned.
Ethan Cross stepped forward, his expression composed, his posture steady. Compared to the chaos around him, he seemed almost out of place.
"Going alone is suicide," he continued. "If you want to live, you need structure. Coordination. Teams."
The word teams lingered in the air.
"Report your talents. Your strongest attributes. We'll organize properly—frontline, support, scouts. If we combine our strengths, we can close the gap."
For a moment, no one moved.
Then—
Like a switch flipping, the crowd surged toward him.
Hope, even fragile hope, was better than none at all.
"I have E-rank strength boost!"
"I'm fast—E-rank agility!"
"Defense type here—I can take hits!"
The square transformed into something resembling a chaotic recruitment hub.
Roles formed quickly.
Stronger individuals were pushed to the front. Faster ones were assigned scouting duties. Defensive types formed protective layers. Support abilities—rare as they were—were placed in the safest positions.
Within minutes, structure replaced chaos.
Order replaced panic.
And then—
One group at a time, they began stepping beyond the barrier.
Lucas watched all of it from the edges of the square.
Silent.
Unmoving.
Unnoticed.
"Report your stats… form teams…" he murmured faintly.
Then he shook his head.
"Not happening."
On paper, he was weak.
Below average strength. Mediocre endurance. Nothing impressive.
If he revealed his real advantage—his SSS-rank talent—he wouldn't gain allies.
He'd paint a target on his back.
In a world where people might kill for survival… or power… or fear…
Secrecy was survival.
So he stepped back.
Further.
Until he blended into the background completely—just another unremarkable face in the crowd.
By the time half an hour passed, the square had emptied out.
The noise had moved beyond the barrier.
Clashing metal. Shouted commands. Occasional screams.
They echoed faintly from the distance.
Lucas exhaled slowly.
"No more waiting."
He adjusted his grip on the refined steel blade hidden beneath his jacket. The cool metal steadied him.
Then, lowering his posture, he moved.
Quick. Quiet. Controlled.
The barrier rippled as he passed through it—
—and the world changed instantly.
The air felt heavier.
Wilder.
The ground was uneven, covered in thick, waist-high grass that swayed with the wind. Distant hills rolled beneath a gray sky, and everything carried a faint metallic scent—
Blood.
Riley stilled.
His breathing slowed.
His senses sharpened.
Every rustle. Every shift of grass. Every whisper of wind—he tracked it all.
Only after confirming there were no immediate threats did he move forward.
Carefully.
Step by step.
Then—
He saw it.
A body.
Marcus Hale.
What remained of him.
Riley stopped.
The sight was… brutal.
His chest had been torn open, his body twisted unnaturally. Blood soaked the ground beneath him, staining the grass a deep, dark red.
For a brief moment, Lucas stomach turned.
This wasn't a game.
This wasn't a simulation.
This was real.
He forced the feeling down.
Because right now—
This was also an opportunity.
Lucas moved forward quickly and crouched beside the corpse.
Still warm.
"Plunder."
A faint warmth spread through his palm.
A flicker of white light—
Gone.
[Infinite Plunder successful!]
[Acquired Talent: Strength Surge (D-Rank)]
Lucas eyes lit up.
It worked.
Not just items. Not just attributes—
Talents too.
He opened his panel immediately.
[Talents]:
Infinite Plunder (SSS)
Strength Surge (D)
Without hesitation, he activated it.
Power exploded through his body.
Muscles tightened. Bones felt heavier—denser.
His original strength surged, tripling in an instant.
He swung the blade experimentally—
Whoosh!
The sound alone was sharper, more dangerous.
"…That's a huge difference," he murmured.
But just as quickly as the excitement rose, it settled.
Marcus had this same power.
And he still died.
"Strength alone isn't enough…"
Speed. Awareness. Timing.
Those mattered more.
This—
Was a trump card.
Not something to rely on blindly.
His gaze shifted.
Not far away, another corpse lay in the grass.
Small.
Red-furred.
Sharp fangs protruding from its mouth like blades.
The Bloodfang Rabbit.
Its head had been nearly split open.
Clean. Precise.
Someone else had killed it—and moved on.
Lucas didn't hesitate.
"Plunder."
[Success: Strength +1 | Agility +1]
A warm current flowed through him.
Subtle—but real.
He checked his stats.
Strength: 8
Agility: 9
A small increase.
But permanent.
Reliable.
Repeatable.
"...So that's how it is."
He tried again.
[Failed: Target already harvested.]
"Figures."
Even so—
This alone was enough to change everything.
He stood, then paused as his gaze landed on the discarded weapon beside Marcus's body.
Rusty.
Forgotten.
"…Waste not."
He picked it up and activated his ability again.
The rust peeled away, revealing polished steel beneath.
Now—
Two blades.
One in each hand.
Lucas tested their weight, adjusting his grip.
No technique. No training.
But even so—
Better than nothing.
Better than most.
He glanced down at the ground.
Footprints.
Dozens of them.
All leading in one direction.
"The main group…"
Where there were people—
There were kills.
And where there were kills—
There were opportunities.
A faint smile crossed his face.
"This isn't hell…" he murmured softly.
"… this is a goldmine."
Lowering his presence, he moved forward—
Silent as a shadow.
Trailing behind the others.
Not a hunter.
Not prey.
Something in between.
A scavenger.
No—
Something far more dangerous.
Because while others risked their lives fighting.
Lucas Reign would grow stronger from everything they left behind.