Morning rose, ushering in a new day. But beneath the golden light, a shadow of concern weighed heavily on Labrec, Akira's father. His thick beard twitched slightly as his brows furrowed in unease, his broad chest rising and falling with quiet tension.
Labrec stood by the window, silent.
"What's troubling you, dear?" asked Alaya, his wife, as she approached with gentle eyes and a soft smile. She placed a calming hand on his arm. "You've been like this ever since Akira got his system. Shouldn't you be as happy as I am?"
Labrec exhaled slowly, his voice low. "Doesn't it strike you as strange? Neither of us had systems. We never imagined Akira would have it. And now… immortality?" He paused. "It worries me."
Alaya chuckled lightly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Worrying is part of being a parent. You care—that's all this is." She gave him a teasing look. "You've always hated the city folks more than my endless nagging. But if this is Akira's dream, it's our job to help him chase it. You've discouraged far enough that he won't have his system, but look how things turn out to be his luck?"
"Even if the odds are stacked against our name, being a peasant, powerless," Alaya murmured.
"But his smile," she said softly, standing on her toes to kiss his cheek. "That's what matters most."
As she returned to the kitchen, Labrec watched her go, a quiet smile finally tugging at his lips. Her words had shifted something in him—made him see their son's future through a brighter lens.
Meanwhile, Akira...
""ALRIGHT! TRAINING BEGINS NOW!!!"
Akira's voice echoed through the neighborhood like a thunderclap, bursting with morning energy and waking several unhappy souls.
"Shut up, brat!" a grumpy neighbor hollered back from a nearby window, voice muffled by a pillow.
Unbothered, Akira grinned wide and sprinted out of his house, heading straight for his "secret" training grounds near the mountains.
Once there, he launched into his grueling regimen.
With boundless energy, he pummeled boulders and struck trees until bark splintered. He hunted wild slimes for agility and reflex practice, ran laps across uneven terrain, and lifted rough-hewn wooden dumbbells alongside massive stones that tested every fiber of muscle.
His routine wasn't just intense—it was calculated. Basic workouts made harder through sheer volume and weight, targeting every part of his body without rest. Sweat soaked through his shirt, dirt streaked his skin, and yet he kept going.
"I'll get stronger… and stronger…!" Akira gasped between heavy breaths, collapsing to one knee after five relentless hours.
His spirit burned even when his body begged for mercy.
"Let's see how I've gone so far. System! " Akira checked his stats with heavy breaths.
_________________________
Stats:
Strength: 106(+2) Mana: 1,189/1,189
Speed: 103. HP: ∞
Durability: 108(+1).
Bonus stats:
None.
________________________,
"Wait what? After all that just 2?!" Akira was dissatisfied. He went through all that just to get a small boost—and made him realize it wasn't going to be easy and would take way longer than he could possibly imagine.
"Damn it! Looks like it'll take me a whole year just to increase it by another hundred," Akira muttered, exhaling hard, sweat clinging to his brow. Then, clenching his fists, he shouted, "That's fine! IT ONLY FIRES ME UP MORE!"
His determination flared, eyes burning with relentless ambition as he pushed himself back to his feet, ready to resume training.
He immediately collapsed.
His cramped leg said otherwise.
Akira groaned, sprawled out on the ground. Despite his grit, his body refused to obey. His unique healing ability only activated in the face of wounds or fatal damage—mere exhaustion and torn muscles didn't qualify. Recovery was a luxury he didn't have.
The next day, he doubled down.
Each morning, he climbed 109 meters up the mountain, ran a mile with a weighted pack on his back and a heavy stone in his arms, and pushed his body through a brutal routine: 100 push-ups, 100 sit-ups, and 100 squats—no excuses.
It only grew harder from there.
As Akira intensified his training, the path to strength became steep and unforgiving. His muscles burned with relentless agony each day, his body screaming at him to stop. But he didn't.
Thanks to his peculiar healing ability, he could repair his torn muscle fibers, mending the damage that would have crippled anyone else. Yet the pain—sharp, real, and merciless—lingered. His regeneration allowed him to keep moving, but it couldn't numb the suffering.
Every day became a war of willpower.
[One month later...]
Gasping for breath, drenched in sweat, Akira finally paused. His hand trembled as he summoned the system display, eyes locking onto the results of a month's torment.
_________________________
[LEVEL: 15]
[EXP: 7,581/20,000]
Stats:
Strength: 301(+195) Mana: 1,540/1,540(+351)
Speed: 121(+18). HP: ∞
Durability: 172(+64).
Bonus stats:
None.
Skills:
Keen instincts (Lvl: 3)
Danger instincts: (Lvl: 2)
Mana cost: 0
Weapon summoning (Light) (15) (Lvl: 2)
Mana cost: 50
_________________________
"Whoa… it actually worked!" Akira breathed, eyes wide with awe as he stared at the stats on his system. "All that training paid off!"
A grin spread across his face, the exhaustion melting into pride. It had been worth the pain, the patience, the persistence. This moment proved that growth was real—that anyone could become a better version of themselves if they stayed true to who they were and never gave up.
"I can't wait to see what five more years will bring! I'll become the strongest there is in no time!" he shouted, laughing to himself. It had become a habit of his—talking aloud to fuel his own resolve when no one else was around to cheer him on.
Whoosh!
The bushes nearby rustled.
Unbeknownst to him, he wasn't alone.
Hidden among the leaves, Julia and her grandfather emerged, silently watching. They had been observing his progress for a while, curiosity piqued by the relentless boy who trained like a soldier possessed.
Akira remained unaware. Though his Keen Instincts passively activated might've caught their presence under normal circumstances, but in that moment, his mind was utterly consumed by excitement and drive.
"It looks like he's really pushing his limits, huh, Grandpa?" Julia said with a soft laugh, watching Akira from behind the brush. "His muscle definition's coming in little by little."
She remembered the first time she saw him—covered in dirt, still training without pause while she was out picking berries. That quiet encounter left a lasting impression on her, and now she often returned, bringing her grandfather along out of curiosity—or maybe admiration.
"Hmph. You're spewing nonsense," her grandfather grumbled beside her. "A proper warrior would have at least a thousand in their stats by now, if not more."
Julia rolled her eyes. "I know that," she replied, nudging him gently. "But you can't deny he's come far. His drive alone is something rare."
The old man grunted again, but there was a flicker of approval in his eyes as he watched the boy train. "Hmph. Maybe," he finally muttered.
He could not understand why he wanted to become the strongest, but his training demonstrated his will to pursue his objectives and become the greatest.
Julia's grandfather narrowed his eyes, arms crossed as he observed Akira's once mentioned his system stats. His mana was abnormally low, far from standards. Strength, durability, speed, and mana were equivalent and nothing exceeded one hundred. Only assumptions he could make was Akira's immortality—a power far than a person could fathom.
He turned to Julia. "Open your system interface—I want to show you something."
Julia hesitated for a moment, then nodded. Since individuals couldn't access each other's system screens, sharing was usually symbolic—used for teaching or demonstration. She summoned hers, projecting the familiar glowing interface, only through her vision she could see her system.
Julia bit her lip, eyes drifting back to Akira. She remembered what he had told her—how his system worked, how it didn't follow normal patterns. He wasn't boastful about it. In fact, when he spoke of it to friends, family, or even curious villagers, it was always with a calm honesty. He simply explained how he lived—how he trained, how he had survived being swallowed whole by a serpent… and how, against all odds, he had killed it.
_________________________
[LEVEL: 6]
[EXP: 1,981/2,000]
Stats:
Strength: 1,293 Mana: 6,277/6,277
Speed: 2,341 Magical powers: 7,089
Durability: 3,444.
Bonus stats:
Magic control: 18%.
Skills:
Water magic: Water canon (Lvl: 2)
Mana cost: 550.
Water magic: Water bullet (Lvl: 1)
Mana cost: 30.
_________________________
She informed her grandfather about the display, comparing what should be average for a growing warrior. "See? Even a beginner at his stage should have double the mana he does. Something's off."
Julia's grandfather watched in silence, brow furrowed.
'Something's not right…' he thought. 'His mana's dangerously low. Lower than most warriors—lower than most peasants, in fact. And yet he wields several magical skills…'
Akira was clearly an outlier. A strange anomaly. Limited in mana, but undeniably capable.
'Hmm… Judging by just how low it is, it shouldn't even be functional. But… if he's truly immortal, then maybe it's not such a problem,' the old man reasoned, resting a thoughtful hand beneath his chin.
After a few more moments of silent watching, he spoke aloud to Julia. "That's enough for today. Let's head back to the village."
She nodded, casting one last glance at the boy who trained alone beneath the mountain sky.
They disappeared into the trees soon after.
Akira, still catching his breath, had sensed them moments before they left. But he didn't react. He had felt their presence—recognized the faint fluctuation in the air—but chose to ignore it.
He had no time to waste on spectators.
[3 minutes later...]
Suddenly, a violent rustle tore through the brush—followed by a hiss.
A massive serpent lunged from the undergrowth, its fangs gleaming in the light. Julia's grandfather reacted instantly, ducking low and yanking her aside by the hand.
"What the—? That serpent again?!" he barked, eyes narrowing in disbelief. A month ago, they had seen that very creature slain at the shrine. Yet here it was, alive—or something like it.
The serpent struck again.
Julia shrieked, terror ripping through her chest. Her scream echoed across the woods like a flare in the sky.
Miles away, Akira's ears twitched. His head snapped up.
A scream.
Without hesitation, he sprinted toward the sound, his body moving like a bullet unleashed. His training had honed him beyond recognition—he could now run a mile in just 23 seconds, leap higher than the tallest tree, and crush solid boulders with his bare hands.
Guided by his Keen Instincts, Akira tore through the forest, tracking both the voice and the faint trace of a familiar scent carried by the wind.
He arrived just in time.
Launching himself high into the air, Akira landed between the serpent and the trembling pair—Julia and her grandfather. His eyes widened in shock.
Another serpent…?
No—this one was different. Bigger. Stronger. Its scales shimmered with a darker sheen, and its coiled body radiated raw, violent power. It dwarfed the one he had fought before.
Julia's grandfather clutched her tightly, shielding her as best he could. Blood ran down a shallow cut on his shoulder.
"Please—help us!" he cried out to Akira, desperation thick in his voice. "This shouldn't be possible. Serpents only live near the city! I don't know why one would show up here… near the village."
Akira's gaze hardened, his body tensing as he stepped forward.
Something wasn't right. And this time, he knew the fight wouldn't be easy.
Akira stepped forward, his eyes locked onto the serpent.
With a flick of his wrist, he summoned his dagger—a sleek, silver blade etched with faint glowing runes. His fingers tightened around the hilt, a wild grin spreading across his face, teeth bared in fierce anticipation.
He bent low, muscles coiling like springs. His calves bulged, raw power gathering beneath him like a storm waiting to break.
Then—he launched.
In a blink, he flew through the air like a human missile, dagger aimed straight for the serpent's skull. The beast hissed and reared back—but it was too late.
The blade drove deep into its eye, the force of the impact bringing the massive creature crashing to the ground.
Akira didn't stop there.
With a roar, he swung his blade in a brutal arc, severing the serpent's head in a single, decisive strike. Blood sprayed across his body, hot and thick, painting him in crimson.
He stood tall, breath heaving, chest soaked with gore—and victorious.
"Hahaha!" he laughed, flicking the blood from his dagger. "How'd you like that, snakey?"
Julia and her grandfather stood frozen for a moment, staring at the fallen serpent.
Her grandfather exhaled, slowly lowering his guard. "That was… quite the performance," he muttered, genuinely impressed. "You handled it with precision and power."
Julia, however, didn't speak. Her hands trembled at her sides, eyes wide and locked on the serpent's lifeless body. The color had drained from her face.
A month ago, the serpent attack near the shrine had left her badly shaken. The trauma had never fully faded—and now, seeing another beast so close, her fear had resurfaced like a tide swallowing her whole.
Akira approached, concern softening his expression. "Hey," he said gently, "Are you alright?"
Julia blinked, her eyes snapping to him. She hesitated, then nodded stiffly. "Y-Yeah. I'm fine."
Akira smiled, visibly relieved. "Alright then. Let's get you both out of here."
He turned and took the lead, guiding them back toward the village—this time, as both protector and friend.
______________________________
You've slain a giant serpent.
Type: Poisonous snake
Enemy's level: 15
Rank: D
[EXP: 17,690+]
______________________________
[The next day...]
Akira resumed his training with unwavering resolve, each swing of his blade echoing his relentless pursuit of strength. Yet, his thoughts drifted—something about yesterday's serpent attack gnawed at him with quiet insistence.
"Another serpent showed up later that same day… Could there be a nest nearby?" he murmured, eyes narrowing with suspicion.
Guided by his sharpened instincts, Akira traced the lingering stench of the creature—a pungent mix of musk and decay. The trail led him back to the old shrine, the very place where he had slain a serpent a month ago. Shadows clung to the stone walls as he stepped into the mouth of the cave, his presence swallowed by the darkness within.
Two minutes passed in silence, save for the crunch of gravel beneath his boots. Then, a faint glow caught his attention. A crystalline shimmer pulsed from deeper inside—cold, faint, and unmistakably unnatural.
He broke into a run.
The glow grew brighter as he approached, revealing a vast chamber veined with luminous crystal. At its center, coils shifted—dozens of serpents slumbering in a tangled mass.
A den.
With steady hands, Akira lit a torch from a dried bundle of kindling. The flame flickered against the cavern walls, casting his shadow long and jagged. Clutching the torch in one hand and his blade in the other, he descended into the lair of serpents—unafraid, but alert.
Hiss!
The sharp, reverberating hiss echoed through the cave like a warning bell. Akira froze—he didn't need to see it to know. A serpent was close. And it was massive.
Out of the darkness, it slithered into view—an enormous serpent unlike any he had ever seen. Its thick, obsidian-scaled body coiled with terrifying grace, easily six times his size. Its eyes locked onto him—narrow, slitted pupils gleaming with cold intelligence and killing intent.
"Holy snake crap..." Akira muttered, stunned by its sheer size and presence.
The creature didn't just look dangerous—it radiated dominance. This was no ordinary serpent. This was a King Serpent.
Without hesitation, Akira summoned his dagger, its blade glinting faintly in the flickering torchlight. He tightened his grip, muscles tense but focused. He knew better than to underestimate something this size.
"Die here!" he roared, charging forward with resolve.
He veered right, using a jagged boulder as cover, its sharp edge tall enough to obscure him from the serpent's line of sight. The serpent hissed again, tail shifting with enough force to shatter stone.
Akira surged forward, eyes locked on the King Serpent's shifting coils, scanning for the slightest opening.
The beast reacted with terrifying speed—its tail whipped toward him with a thunderous crack. Akira leapt, twisting midair to evade the strike, then landed deftly atop the serpent's scaled hide.
Without hesitation, he charged along its back, dagger gripped tight, aiming for the one place he knew could end this quickly—its eyes.
But the serpent reared back and unleashed a sudden, venomous hiss. In an instant, a spray of corrosive acid shot from its maw, splattering across Akira's side.
"Grrraaagh!" he cried out as the acid burned through skin and muscle, exposing raw bone beneath. The pain was beyond human—searing, excruciating, unrelenting.
The serpent thrashed, trying to shake him off, and Akira was thrown against the cavern wall. He hit hard, crumpling to the ground in a heap of smoke and steam, his body half-melted and grotesquely disfigured.
But he was still breathing.
His body began to shimmer—torn flesh knitting together, bones snapping back into place as if rewound by some divine force. The regeneration was violent, painful, but unstoppable. Every nerve screamed, every cell combusted in agony as they were forced to reform.
Yet he stood.
Still coughing smoke, Akira straightened up, the torchlight catching on his half-healed skin.
"Hah... Fortune favors me, snakey," he rasped, a savage grin spreading across his half-burnt face. "I'm immortal."
His voice echoed with a twisted mix of triumph and torment. He laughed—but it was a bitter, mocking laugh, laced with pain. Acid still clung to his flesh, eating into him even as it healed.
The agony was endless, like his body was being burned alive over and over. But he refused to fall.
The fight wasn't over.
Akira's body, though freshly regenerated, still sizzled where acid clung stubbornly to his skin. The regeneration didn't make him immune—only unkillable. And that meant pain. Blinding, burning, bone-deep pain.
But he moved anyway.
Relying on his sharpened danger sense, he surged forward again. This time, he wasn't reckless—he was aware of every shifting scale, every breath the serpent took, every tremor beneath his feet. His immortality was no excuse for foolishness.
He zigzagged across the cavern floor, narrowly evading another acidic spray. The droplets still caught him—hissing against his skin like wildfire—but he endured it, gritting his teeth through the pain.
The serpent lunged, its gaping maw descending like a falling tower.
Akira didn't hesitate.
He sprinted toward it, then launched himself into the air just as the serpent dipped lower to strike. Twisting mid-leap, he landed atop its snout and drove his dagger with brutal force into its eye.
The beast shrieked, a deafening, guttural cry of agony echoing through the cavern walls. Its head reared, thrashing violently as black ichor spilled from the wounded eye.
Akira clung tight, panting, his hand still wrapped around the embedded hilt.
"That got your attention," he growled.
Even as the acidic air continued to sting his half-healed wounds, his resolve burned brighter than the pain.
Akira wasted no time.
He leapt from the serpent's snout to the side of its head, dagger gleaming, and drove the blade deep into its remaining eye.
A second scream tore through the cavern—a sound of pure, primal agony. The King Serpent writhed, its massive body crashing against the stone floor in blind desperation.
But it wasn't finished.
With a final lunge, the beast's gaping jaws closed around Akira, swallowing him whole.
The cavern fell silent.
For a moment, it seemed the serpent had claimed victory.
But inside the suffocating, muscular prison of the beast's stomach, Akira was already moving. He didn't panic. He didn't scream. His hands found the dagger's hilt again, and with grim determination, he carved his way through flesh and muscle, stabbing furiously—over and over—until the monster's insides churned and collapsed.
Just as he had done with the first serpent, he fought from within.
Moments later, a blade tore through the serpent's belly. Viscera spilled onto the cavern floor, and from the steaming entrails emerged Akira—soaked in blood, covered in acid burns, but still standing.
Triumphant.
The great serpent gave one final shudder and collapsed in a lifeless heap
Around the chamber, the lesser serpents that had once worshipped their fallen monarch recoiled. One by one, they slithered away into the dark, their allegiance broken, their terror absolute.
Akira staggered forward, dragging his blade behind him, breath heavy but proud.
The king was dead.
______________________________
You've slain a giant king serpent.
Type: Poisonous snake.
Enemy's level: 30
Rank: C
[EXP: 30,690+]
______________________________
After slaying the King Serpent, Akira let out a deep breath, surveying the massive corpse and the mess left behind.
"Phew… that takes care of that." He removed his dagger. "Better let the village know so they can clean this up before someone wanders in here and dies a horrible acidic death."
He turned, stretching his arms. "But first... training. Actually…" He glanced down, realizing the full extent of his predicament. "Yeah, maybe clothes first."
The acid had done more than scar his flesh—it had completely dissolved his outfit. With only a hastily plucked leaf barely covering his dignity, Akira made his way back to the village, casually confident despite his extremely naked state.
Eventually, he arrived at a familiar house near his training ground and knocked on the door.
Knock knock.
Julia opened it—only to be met with the most absurd sight of the week.
"So, uh... Julia... hehe." Akira stood there, nude as the day he was born, clutching a leaf over his privates, flashing an awkward, cheeky grin as he scratched the back of his head. "Mind lending me some spare clothes?"
Julia froze. Her face turned red in an instant. "K-KYAAAAAA!" she shrieked, covering her eyes.
"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, YOU PERVERT?!" she bellowed so loudly it shook the birds from nearby trees.
"Wait! It's not what it looks like! I got attacked! I can explai—"
Fwump.
The leaf fell.
There was a pause. A deep, soul-crushing silence.
Then—
[WATER MAGIC: WATER CANNON!]
"NO, WAIT FOR—GAHHHHHHH!" Akira was blasted off his feet by a high-pressure geyser of water, flying back into a bush with a soaking splat.
Some time later, drenched and thoroughly humiliated, Akira reemerged, now dressed in some of Julia's oversized spare clothes—too loose in the sleeves, slightly floral in pattern, but dry.
He sighed, combing his fingers through his wet hair. "At least I'm not buck naked."