Steven could barely suppress the wave of relief that washed over him as the system shop appeard. For days, he had been fleeing the relentless pursuit of vampires since his arrival at the fifth stage. Every ti he thought he’d lost them, their shadowy forms reappeared—silent silhouettes against the horizon, trailing him like bloodhounds on a scent.
The System Shop offered sothing he hadn't dared to hope for in days: sanctuary and respite. It was a rare chance to breathe and to plan his next move. Once inside its shimring confines, the constant tension gripping his body began to ease. He browsed the glowing panels, his mind racing as he considered his options. He needed escape items—tools to finally shake his pursuers for good.
After spending the full duration allowed in the shop, he was unceremoniously expelled into the harsh, unforgiving jungle. The humid air struck him like a wall, but Steven had no ti to linger. He clutched the teleportation token he'd purchased for 450,000 credits—a staggering sum, but one he gladly parted with for even a slim chance at freedom. Activating it, he felt a wrenching sensation tear through his body, pain lancing through every nerve as the world dissolved around him.
When he reappeared twenty kiloters away, Steven collapsed to his knees, gasping. The jungle here seed eerily quiet, the thick canopy filtering the sunlight into a dim, green haze. He forced himself to stand, muscles screaming in protest, and began moving again.
He couldn’t afford to stop. The vampires were faster than him—swift and tireless, their predatory grace a terrifying contrast to his desperate flailing. Without the repeated upgrades he'd poured into his wing skill, he would’ve been a dead man long ago.
As the hours passed, the jungle’s oppressive heat weighed on him, and soon, he encountered its other inhabitants: beasts with red mist rising ominously from their skin. These creatures weren’t natural. The red mist hinted at corruption—dark magic that seeped into their very flesh, turning them into lethal weapons. They were more than a nuisance; their poisonous clouds could kill him if his armor failed.
Steven couldn’t help but marvel grimly at the vampires’ handiwork. To corrupt this many creatures, they must have been working tirelessly since their arrival on the fifth stage. Dead beasts littered the forest floor, evidence of the vampires’ relentless expansion. Despite the danger, Steven had no choice but to hunt. He needed experience—desperately.
At level 80, he was strong, but he still hesitated to evolve. Evolving too soon could lock him into a subpar class, and Steven was determined to aim higher. His lance impaled beasts with brutal precision, while white fire seared others to ash. The sun stood high in the sky, casting stark shadows through the jungle—a small rcy. Daylight was his ally; at night, his light-based skills would make him a beacon for enemies.
The vampires, he knew, were still hunting him. And sowhere deeper in this stage lurked their true masters—the ones he had no hope of outrunning.
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