Killing the Shaman after that point was remarkably easy. The one-time teleportation to a "Safe Zone" after defeating a Floor Boss was a true godsend. Without it, he would have been in a dire situation, forced to fend off the remaining goblins and limp all the way back to safety with his mangled body. As these thoughts swirled, Mark's expression darkened. Luck had played an uncomfortably large role in his survival—too large. There was so much luck involved that he felt like a cliché anime protagonist draped in "plot armor."
The Goblin Shaman's decisions had handed him the victory. In truth, the Shaman's plan to put on a "show" would have succeeded, if only the fool hadn't tried to cast a blindness curse on a man who was already blind. Thinking back on that curse, Mark felt a fresh surge of irritation. "Was he serious? Did he truly not realize I'm blind, or was he trying to inflict emotional damage alongside the physical pain?" Mark proceeded to curse the Shaman and his entire lineage again, this time making it all the way back to the creature's seventh ancestors.
Once he calmed down, he reconsidered: was the blindness curse a moronic tactical blunder or a calculated psychological ploy? Aside from that one move, everything else had been flawless. The Shaman was highly intelligent, and his magic was exceptional. When Mark had previously researched the goblin hierarchy and its elite classes, he had cross-referenced potential Floor Bosses in the System library. A Goblin Shaman had been among the possibilities he scrutinized. Based on both that research and the memories he held from his time as Thaddeus, he could say with certainty that this Shaman was a complete anomaly compared to its common kin.
Suddenly, a familiar ding echoed in his mind. Mark raised an eyebrow. A rare occurrence: the System was taking the initiative to communicate. Pushing aside his stray thoughts, he focused on the panel manifesting before him.
[Congratulations, Host! You have cleared the First Floor. I can now explain the specific nature of this floor to you. Primarily, the First Floor was designed to serve as a fundamental "school" for you, Mark Miller. You were not meant to perish immediately; the strength required to clear this floor represents the absolute minimum level of power needed to survive in the outside world. This is why the inhabitants were restricted to goblins and why the zones were strictly partitioned: a safe zone near the Gate, followed by solitary goblins, then grouped encounters, and finally the Boss territory. This structure was implemented to ease your transition and mirror the media from your previous life. However, as compensation, the Floor Boss's intellectual capacity was significantly boosted.]
[Regarding the Second Floor: System-enforced laws do not exist there. It is a raw, wild environment. The System cannot assist you with territorial boundaries; while you can use "Appraisal" to identify a Boss, its territory is not restricted. It could be waiting right at the entrance Gate or sleeping in a random area. Ascending to the Second Floor is entirely at your own discretion.]
After reading the system panel, everything finally began to make sense. The first floor's structure had always felt artificial, with the goblins strictly confined to specific zones. But now he realized it was a mercy; if he had encountered a group of goblins instead of a solitary one upon his arrival, his journey would have ended then and there. This "compensation" also explained why the Floor Boss possessed such an anomalous intellectual capacity.
In retrospect, he had to admit that the danger level of the first floor's goblin forest was relatively low—even if that "low" danger had nearly cost him his life. Mark's brow furrowed. Without the System's enforced laws, the difficulty of the second floor would undoubtedly skyrocket. He couldn't just walk in blindly. He questioned the system: "What kind of monsters inhabit the second floor?"
The system's reply was blunt:
[You must descend to the second floor and discover that for yourself.]
"Fine, fine. You're right, System," Mark muttered. But the second floor was still a distant concern. Unless he recovered completely, he wouldn't dare risk it. He turned his attention back to his injuries. The pain was still there, and every movement remained a struggle, but at least the bleeding seemed to have stopped. That alone was a relief. Now, under the protection of the Safe Zone, he could focus on healing. The second floor would have to wait.
"
One more thing weighed on his mind. Throughout this journey on the first floor, a persistent sense of intuition—an inner dread—had been gnawing at him, but he had dismissed it. Mark now resolved to trust his instincts just as much as, if not more than, cold, hard facts. After all, this world leaned more toward the logic of anime, and trusting one's instincts was a fundamental law of such a reality.