"I’m tired..."
This sentence is practically a purification of human civilization, a simple phrase that encapsulates so much helplessness and bitterness.
Hunter’s Dream.
Fanen collapsed into the white blossoms, utterly exhausted. Although his body showed no visible wounds, his ntal state seed battered and bruised.
It was as if the young man before him had died countless tis due to relentless attacks.
Speaking of death, he definitely had died many, many tis.
All because the people of Yarn were too enthusiastic.
Enthusiastic enough to skewer him and roast him over a fire.
He really had been barbecued like a skewer!
Yet every ti he died, this bizarre Dungeon always resurrected him in a fully restored state, with only a slight headache upon waking.
The only obvious change was his weapons; the Saw at Blade had beco more mottled, and even the Hunter’s Pistol had acquired several claw marks from being used to block attacks.
He could hardly distinguish whether what he experienced was reality or a dream. If it were reality, why did his damaged clothes also restore upon resurrection?
But if it were a dream, why did the wear and tear on his weapons remain?
Several little ssengers suddenly erged from beside him, waving their slender arms, as if cheering him on.
"Thank you..."
Fanen weakly twitched the corners of his mouth. In this Dungeon where everyone brandished a knife at him, the ssengers seed to be the only beings willing to communicate with him.
Once you got used to them, these little guys seed quite cute, making him want to take one ho as a pet.
Regaining so strength, he climbed out of the flowerbed, bypassed the motionless puppet, and headed towards the topmost house.
The door had opened automatically the second ti he died and arrived here.
The scene inside was different from what he imagined; it was not a residence, but more like a workshop.
All sorts of tools, familiar and unfamiliar, were placed here, and there was even a workbench. As he approached, several new ssengers appeared on the workbench, one responsible for collecting weapon repair fees and the others for repairing the weapons.
Indeed, the ssengers charged him "Blood Echoes," or "souls," rather than gold or silver for their weapon repair services.
This "stuff" appeared automatically whenever he killed an enemy, shocking Fanen when he first found out. It felt like he had turned into a wicked Soul-Sucking Monster from a fairy tale, stealing souls from slain enemies.
Thus, he preferred to call the loot after killing enemies "Blood Echoes," which sounded a bit more elegant than just re souls.
He had grown accustod to their presence, primarily since the number of Blood Echoes on him seed to have no impact.
Besides commissioning the ssengers to repair weapons, he could also purchase various ordinary tools at an altar, such as Blood Collection Bottles, rcury Bullets, and even ordinary stones.
He wanted to complain why a stone, round and seemingly only useful for attracting enemy attention, dared to cost a hundred Blood Echoes...
These items had no quantity limits, but their prices would rise progressively, presumably to a point where he could no longer afford them. It gave him no chance to hoard supplies!
But it didn’t matter; this ti, Fanen only truly wanted one thing:
[Burning Bullet]
[Throwing it at the enemy causes an explosion. A hunting tool existing in the Hunter Workshop since ancient tis.]
[Just as hunters believed in facing the tragedy of Old Yarn, hunting beasts should require fire. Perhaps this is why so beasts fear fire pathologically.]
Fanen exchanged his remaining Blood Echoes with the ssengers for Burning Bullets, revealing a grim smile.
Loved bonfires, huh?
A warm welco for outsiders, huh?
I’ll make you taste the roasting fire too!
He was determined to tackle the bonfire festival and clutched the Burning Bullets as he marched toward the tombstone and teleported himself to Yusefka Clinic.
Inside the workshop within Hunter’s Dream, an unmanned wheelchair gently swayed.
The atmosphere of Yarn City was perpetually unsettling.
Terrifying beasts’ howls occasionally pierced the sky, only God knows where beastly citizens would leap out from, and even the dogs and crows here were human-sized, ripping apart flesh if one dared venture near.
Fanen stood in front of Yusefka Clinic, took several deep breaths, and forced the slight fear reflected on his pale face deep within, decisively stepping out of the safety of the clinic.
This ti he opted not to scurry like a rat through dark, narrow alleys but boldly strode onto the streets, with his cloak fluttering and blades gleaming cold.
Alleys may give a sense of safety, but if one were to savor that sense too much, they’d never grow.
This was the life lesson he learned after being cornered and killed in an alley by beastly citizens for the third ti.
There are no timid people; it’s just that so haven’t died enough.
Sure enough, this display quickly drew the attention of beastly citizens, sparking a battle imdiately.
The serious glint shone in his eyes, evading any subtle enemy moves, never dismissing them as useless feints, thus dodging the typical beastly citizen’s tactic — a feigned weak slash, followed by a mad flurry like an Animated Corpse Sword Saint.
There’s no problem handling two or three beastified citizens at the sa ti. Every transformation of the Saw at Blade is accompanied by the end of a life. Fanen performs this with a sense of ritual, choosing to end foes with a Transformation Slash whenever he has the chance. In fact, this is also to inflict greater damage on the enemy, saving ti from having to deliver a finishing blow.
It seems that from the third or fourth death onward, he noticed that he beca increasingly adept at dealing with these enemies. The focus that once appeared by chance gradually seed to beco permanent.
Although sotis a monster that suddenly appears would still frighten him, once the real battle began, he would fight like a Hunter becoming increasingly skilled.
After crossing the boundary of death, the factors that once caused his demise would all beco the driving force for his growth.
Whether it’s the beastified citizens, Hounds, crows, or the small giants wielding bricks, he has beco familiar with how to handle these fellows.
The only pity is that he hasn’t quite mastered the Combat Skill of Gun Counter.
After taking out three beastified citizens, Fanen hurried along the road towards his destination without stopping, the first obstacle for all outsiders when entering Yarn— the bonfire carnival.
To this day, he still couldn’t figure out how that beastified citizen could spot him from such a long distance, but ever since he chose to confront the bonfire carnival head-on, that situation never occurred again.
Could it be explained that the Dungeon did it on purpose that one ti?
"Never mind, let’s begin."
The number of beastified citizens roaming near the torches needed to be counted in double digits. However, by observing carefully, it was apparent that while they weren’t too near or too far apart, a Burning Bullet thrown would at most hit three or four.
Fanen’s arrival threw this carnival into turmoil.
"Bang!"
In the mont before the gunshot rang out, he rushed towards the closest gun-wielding beastified citizen as if predicting it, hurling a stone with force, hitting the opponent’s forehead right on. Though not lethal, it was enough to knock them off the carriage.
This was a technique his father taught him for shooting birds as a child!
He didn’t finish off the enemy that was knocked down. Instead, he copied the move to knock down the other two gunn as well. By then, most of the beastified citizens had surrounded him, and the situation turned critical.
But Fanen elbowed the nearest enemy and flipped onto the carriage in a few steps; he had knees!
By preemptively knocking down the gunn, he could avoid being shot like a live target on top of the carriage in a short ti. This was a bloody lesson learned from his previous death.
Then he pulled out a bottle filled with crimson liquid from his pocket, drawing blood from his own body!
When the bottle shattered on the ground, the fragrance of blood unfurled, causing the beastified citizens who were dismantling the carriage with bare hands to pounce on the blood.
Not only does the enemy’s blood attract Fanen, but his own blood can also attract the enemy, although the effect falls short of the official Enemy Attraction Skull or Pungent Blood Cocktail.
Excitent erged on Fanen’s face, like a rookie Hunter eagerly watching prey step into his trap, a thrill that was hard to suppress.
Once the last part of the beastified citizens stepped into his ideal attack range, he imdiately threw another item towards the crowd.
[Oil Urn]
[After being thrown at a target, the target becos drenched in oil, making them extrely flammable.]
[Fire is common in hunting, and the Oil Urn can enhance its effect; so hunters may indulge in the pleasure brought by purification from burning beasts.]
The sticky oil spilled over the beastified citizens. Before they could react, an explosion suddenly erupted nearby, followed by roaring flas spreading wildly!
"Boom, boom, boom!"
Fanen threw all the Burning Bullets on him in one go, slling the scent of charred flesh and hearing the cries of the beasts. He suddenly understood why so hunters beco addicted to burning beasts!
Watching the fire that seed to purify everything, he couldn’t suppress the grin at the corner of his mouth.
Finally, he ended this bonfire carnival that plagued him so much!
This was a big step for him!
As the fire gradually subsided, a few beastified citizens remained unscathed. Fanen thought briefly and realized he had been too hasty earlier, overestimating his strength when throwing the Burning Bullets, thus missing these few.
"I still have many hunting techniques to learn."
"Snap—"
The Saw at Blade transford with a snap. Facing those hideous beastified citizens, the timid expression vanished from his face as he raised his weapon high and leaped down!
Not long after, looking as if he had taken a roll in a river of blood, Fanen ca to a lantern with ssengers peeking out at him.
Apart from Yusefka Clinic, he actually discovered a second lantern on another street not far from the bonfire carnival, which seed to be called Yarn Center.
However, because the area around this lantern felt eerily empty, giving no sense of security, he generally chose to appear at Yusefka Clinic.
But in terms of distance, the Yarn Center lantern was the closest.
Having just dealt with the bonfire carnival, he now had a sizable amount of Blood Echo that he considered a small fortune, eagerly wanting to return to Hunter’s Dream for spending.
Indeed, he now felt the pressure from carrying too much Blood Echo, becoming too scared to recklessly take risks.
He could buy a Hunter’s Suit from the ssengers, and Fanen felt it was ti to change out of his tattered clothes for a dashing outfit.
Just as he was about to touch the lantern and return to Hunter’s Dream,
the lamp in the nearby house suddenly lit up.
A voice, weak-sounding, ca through:
"Oh, are you a Hunter?"
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