Deckard crossed the beach of Shell Bay, picking his way between darting crabs and players swinging at them with driftwood clubs and low-tier blades.

  The scent of salt clung to the breeze, and the sound of waves rolled behind him in a steady rhythm.

  As he walked, he pulled up his character sheet. He hadn’t checked it in a while, and he wanted to see just how far he’d come.

  CHARACTER INFORMATION

  Name: Deckard

  Class: Card Slinger

  Race: Human

  Alignment: Neutral

  Relationships: Zulmers (20/100); Villagers of Stiltwave (110/300)

  Titles:

  [Beginner Dungeoneer] +5% HP and energy regeneration when inside a dungeon.

  [Lone Wolf] +5 attack, +5% damage resistance, +5% status resistance when running dungeons. Bonus doubles when running a dungeon alone.

  [Osmotic Skin] Doubles lung capacity; Diving items gain a +5-minute oxygen bonus.

  [Scuba Fighter] Water resistance against weapons is reduced. Stamina consumption while swimming is slightly reduced.

  [Swimmer] Swim 20% faster. Reduced stamina consumption while swimming.

  COLLECTION

  Number of cards: 92

  Complete sets: [Beach], [Beginner], [Crabs], [Seagulls], [Shallows], [Turtles], [Underwater Junkyard]

  STATS

  HP: 184

  HP regeneration: 3.3 per second

  EP: 116

  EP regeneration: 0.3 per second + 5%

  Weight: [Light] - (5.3/30Kg)

  Running speed: 110.2%

  Attack speed: 103.7%

  Attack: +6.6

  Crit damage: +0.1

  Damage resistance: 3.4%

  Status resistance: 0.5%

  Healing: +0.2

  EQUIPMENT

  Right hand: [Sunny Beach]

  Left hand: [Empty]

  Head: [Beginner’s Hat]

  Top: [Coconut Jacket] | +5HP, +2% damage reduction

  Gloves: [Discarded Gloves] | +1% attack speed

  Bottom: [Beginner’s Trousers]

  Shoes: [Sea Wind Boots] | +10% running speed when outside of combat, [Light as a Feather]

  Cape: [Dented Oxygen Bottle] | Allows the user to stay underwater for 15 minutes longer. Needs one hour to recharge.

  Accessories: [Rusty Spectacles] | +5% energy regeneration

  Ring: [Spider Crab] | [Spider Web]

  SKILLS

  Passive: [Beginner’s Path], [Card Throw], [Garbage Cocoon]

  Active: [Dumpster Disguise], [Four Aces], [Heavy Shot], [Healing Ray], [Light as a Feather], [Pinch Point], [Repository Recharge], [Seagull Step], [Spider Web], [Subdimensionalize], [Telekinetic Reload]

  Deckard reviewed his progress with a critical eye.

  Even without any base stats—Strength, Dexterity, Intelligence, or Wisdom—his collection had been steadily boosting his attributes directly.

  When he’d first started, each card throw had barely scratched out a single point of damage. Now, just from his Attack bonuses alone, he was hitting for four—quadruple his initial output. And that wasn’t even factoring in skills like [Four Aces], [Pinch Point], and [Card Throw].

  And, more recently, he’d unlocked the ability to reload some of his cards mid-combat. The difference hadn’t been tested yet, but on paper, it promised a sharp bump to his sustained damage. It was the kind of gain that would matter more and more the deeper into the game he went.

  Even so, he was still lagging behind other players. While he’d had to jump through hoops just to gain three extra points of damage, others simply visited the local shop and bought gear that made them stronger than Deckard was even now.

  He’d been playing for days. Plenty of people cleared Beginner Island in under a day. He’d seen the guides. Read the claims.

  As for him, here he was, still poking under every rock and progressing at a crawl.

  He clicked his tongue. He thought about all the hours he’d spent hunting turtles. Despite how much he disliked melee combat, he had to admit—landing a solid hit with the Burrowing Spear was addicting. It made him wonder if he shouldn't settle for a normal class instead.

  It’s okay, Deckard. This class will prove its worth in the long game, he told himself.

  There were countless dungeons in Terralore and thousands of creature types, each packed with skills. According to the estimates: thousands of them. Each one represented a small but permanent boost to his strength. If he could just capture them all...

  It was a snowball effect. He just had to persist in his path.

  As he approached the jungle, he dismissed his character sheet.

  The open sand gave way to scattered coconut trees, then to the first creeping shadows of the jungle. The air thickened with damp heat, and the buzz of insects grew louder.

  He stopped.

  There’s that feeling.

  A tingle crawled up his spine—subtle but insistent. Something waited beyond the trees.

  It hadn’t always been like this. Before his third fight with Ratu, the jungle had been just part of the landscape. Now, it watched him back. Every time he came near, the same unease stirred in his gut.

  He hesitated at the tree line and opened his AI overlay. Not the in-game system window—this was his external browser, rigged to block spoilers unless he searched for them on purpose. A self-imposed filter. Enough to keep the mystery alive while still letting him cheat when it counted.

  This felt like one of those moments.

  Third dungeon. Beginner Island.

  He hit Enter.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  Dozens of results appeared. There were articles, player logs, strategy guides and combat footage. A few grainy clips showed teams getting swarmed by jungle macaques. Some were ambushed in the trees. Others were caught flat-footed by packs working together. One video cut out just as a macaque hurled a crude spear from the canopy.

  So, the third dungeon belongs to macaques.

  Deckard frowned. Macaques wielding crude weapons, working together like a stone age tribe... It was a little unsettling.

  Now that he thought about it, Ratu’s deck had featured macaques. At the time, he hadn’t thought much of it. Now, he knew those cards had come from right here, from the island.

  He copied the coordinates from one of the guides and uploaded them to his map.

  The system responded with a subtle ping. His path lay ahead of him.

  He flicked his hand, and cards spiraled into a tight fan between his fingers. The spear stayed strapped to his back.

  Then he stepped into the jungle.

  The feeling vanished.

  There was no spine-tingling alert. No lingering presence. Just jungle. The shift was so abrupt that he stopped, frowning. Had he just imagined it?

  He shook his head and pressed on. Dangerous or not, he was here to finish what was left of the island and make it to a mid-tier city—where the real Terralore scene began. That was where the gaming parlors were. Where the tournaments happened. That’s what he’d joined the game for.

  Even though the jungle loomed thick from a distance, up close, it wasn’t too dense. Deckard had half-expected to hack a path with a bush knife or push through curtains of vines. But the undergrowth parted easily beneath his boots.

  Palm-leaf ferns sprawled near the base of thicker trunks. Bright red berries clustered in thorny bushes, bursting with juice and shine. Some of the taller flowers swayed with oversized, bulbous heads that looked heavy enough to tip over. After seeing so many coconut trees, it felt good to spot some variety and color for a change.

  For all its color and variety, the plant life was kept in check by the sandy, nutrient-poor soil. The brush never grew thick enough to block his path. It gave the illusion of freedom—easy steps, open sightlines. It was as if the developers were inviting players to come deeper into it.

  Deckard kept a steady march. Apprehension pulsed beneath his skin, tight and restless. But under it, something else stirred—excitement. The kind that made your palms sweat and your heart beat two counts too fast.

  He’d spent days preparing for whatever lurked in this jungle.

  He still remembered how shaken Ratu had looked when Deckard took that epic card from him. That wasn’t the look of someone who’d just lost a precious card. It was the look of someone who feared what came next. Add to that the ominous warnings Ronan had dropped before disappearing again, and he’d had nightmares about what might be waiting for him here.

  But the fear wasn’t enough to stop him. Because if Ratu’s backer really had access to more cards like [Whale Shark]... wasn’t that something to chase?

  For a moment, he imagined another NPC challenger with a deck filled with rare, epic, maybe even legendary cards.

  That thought sparked something beneath the nerves—a quiet hunger.

  If another NPC challenges me to a Terralore game again, he thought, I’m ready.

  His collection had grown. He still had a long way to go, but he felt confident in his ability to build a solid deck with what he had

  He was stronger, too. If the challenge turned out to be combat-focused, he could hold his own now. And he’d followed his class quest line step by step, never skipping ahead, never taking a shortcut.

  That had to mean something. Right?

  That had to mean something. Right?

  The thought was reassuring. The preparation dulled the edge of his anxiety.

  The coordinates pulled him inland, far enough that he couldn’t hear the ocean anymore—only smell it. But he was still close enough to the coast that Shell Bay would be just a short hike away.

  A rustle broke the quiet ahead. It was sharp, sudden.

  Deckard froze. He dropped into a ready stance, muscles coiled.

  Then, movement flashed in the trees. Something light and agile rocked the branches in its wake. Finally, Deckard spotted the culprit: a macaque.

  It bounded from branch to branch, carefree, leaping with fluid confidence between the trees. The jungle bent to its motion without resistance. It swung low, then climbed high again, tail flicking with each jump.

  Deckard inspected it.

  Prankster Macaque

  Lvl. 7

  HP: 250

  His hand hovered near his deck. For a moment, he considered testing his strength against it. But the macaque didn’t charge. It found a piece of fruit hanging from a high branch, plucked it with practiced ease, and settled in. While it ate, it glanced down at Deckard curiously.

  Deckard eased out of his stance. The macaque didn’t seem interested in a fight. Not unless provoked.

  There was no point in staying here. If the jungle was dangerous, he’d rather be inside the macaque dungeon. At least there, the effects of [Lone Wolf] kicked in, and he would be able to do his thing away from prying eyes.

  Deckard resumed his march.

  Another rustle.

  He turned, half-expecting a macaque, but instead spotted a player slipping between the trees. Deckard exhaled and nodded a greeting. The player gave him a brief nod in return and moved on without a word.

  As he continued forward, more signs of activity emerged. There were other players along the same trail, all heading in the same direction.

  He fell into step behind a trio chatting in hushed voices.

  “Think we’ll get the drop this time?”

  “It’s our third run, and we haven’t gotten it yet. It has to be this time.”

  “I think we’ll have an easier time against the leader if we focus on the minions first.”

  “Hmmm… I read online that that doesn’t work.”

  Deckard kept his distance, letting their voices fade into the crunch of leaves and the thud of boots on roots. The more he walked, the more players he passed. That—and the pulsing beacon on his map—told him he was close.

  I guess I really was overthinking things.

  His trek in the jungle was uneventful. There were no ambushes, no monsters, no traps, no NPCs challenging him for a fight. Nothing had gone wrong.

  He was almost there.

  RAAAAAAAH!

  A roar rang through the jungle, low and rough. Not quite feline, not quite ape. It was something else entirely.

  Deckard felt the hairs on his arms prickle up and his mouth go dry. However, when he glanced in the direction of the group ahead of him, he frowned. Their posture was loose, casual.

  “Oh? It spawned!”

  “I can’t wait to go after it.”

  “That’s why we need the drops, you silly. That wild boss isn’t a pushover like the Turtle Mother. And with so many guilds farming it, we need to have better gear before we give it a go.”

  “Fine. Let’s go.”

  They started moving again.

  Deckard lingered, still looking in the direction that the roar had come from, trying to shake off the chill crawling up his back. After nothing happened for a long moment, he took a steadying breath and resumed his march.

  Then the second roar hit.

  RAAAAAAAAAAAH!

  Closer.

  The ground rumbled once, then again. There was a deep vibration that rolled through his boots and into his spine. Birds burst from the canopy above. A breeze swept through the jungle like a ripple in water.

  Then it stopped.

  The quake. The breeze. The sound.

  All of it.

  Deckard slowed.

  Something happened.

  He’d felt a shift in the air. It was a feeling he had experienced three times before in this game, the same as when he was transported into a dungeon.

  He looked around, blinking.

  There were no voices, no footsteps, or buzzing insects. There weren’t even the distant cries of macaques.

  Where did everyone go?

  He checked behind him. The trail was empty.

  His fingers hovered near his deck.

  A soft shuffle. Deckard turned and found Ratu.

  He looked nothing like before. Gone was the smug smile and the cocky tilt of his head. His skin had gone pale. His arms hung stiffly at his sides, trembling just slightly. And his eyes kept flicking to the treetops.

  His voice came out strained and flat, as if he were repeating someone else’s words.

  “H-how dare you step into my land... after stealing what’s mine?”