Chapter 11

Logging into the game, I found myself in my room. It was morning there. While we were having breakfast, my father looked at me with a hint of trepidation. Apparently, the battle of the belt and minor healing wasn’t over yet.

Oh, how wrong I was! Today, I spent the entire day running from dogs around the village. My stamina reserves and health regeneration allowed me to run without rest, but shaking the dogs off without killing them was tough. At lunch, only they were fed—I was told to keep running. The animals got their second wind. Rachel, Grunt, and Oni sat by the pond, shouting:

"Run, Forrest, run!!!"

The evening was intense—only at night was I allowed to stop.

Physical Damage Resistance +0.02%

Ignore Physical Damage up to 16 units/sec

Speed +8

Athletics +9

Turns out, the dogs were bought as hunting hounds—with the very money I gave my father. Four dogs at twenty-five gold each. Father was pleased and explained his deal:

"In a week, they’ll be worth a hundred gold apiece."

"Why?"

"Because by then, they’ll have the stats of level-twelve creatures despite being level one. Plus, they’ll be incredibly tough, fast, and resilient. And they have class-based attack skills! In a week, they’ll be fully developed!"

"W-wait… Father… Are they… training on me?"

The sight of the dogs drooling at me was unnerving.

"Your minor healing, toughness, and cheerful face after a beating make me the happiest father in the world." He gazed at the starry sky with an innocent smile.

"Why?!"

"For your own good." His expression turned serious again. "Tomorrow, the dogs have a surprise for you."

My eye started twitching, and nervous laughter escaped me. My father was… something else.

What can you say about dogs with green drool? Turns out, I not only became faster at running—but now I also got poisoned with every bite.

[You are poisoned: Basilisk Saliva.]

[Health Damage: 86 units/sec]

[Duration: 30 seconds… 29… 28… 27]

"Father, what about paralysis? That would’ve been a real surprise. This? Just a minor nuisance. Twenty-five seconds, and I’m dead."

Now, I had to shake off dogs, heal, dodge—all while sprinting. Rachel found a bookie; the locals were betting on which lap would see me torn apart. Her father set up benches by the lake.

Lunch was… unexpected. Mother gave the dogs something. Now they were faster than me. Two more rows of benches appeared by the lake.

Father bet my own thirty gold on me and said, "Now you’ve got motivation."

Oh yes, dinner wasn’t offered to me. But the dogs got something like a berserker potion. They felt no pain, and I couldn’t shake them off fast enough—so I ran with bleeding wounds and two dogs on my shoulders, constantly healing myself. Only when night fell did Father let me go.

Physical Damage Resistance +0.1%

Ignore Physical Damage up to 45 units/sec

Poison Resistance +0.1%

Ignore Poison Damage up to 16 units/sec

Speed +6

Athletics +8

Intelligence +6

Wisdom +6

Life Magic +8

Life Spell Efficiency +23%

A new notification was a relief. I finally did what I’d wanted all day:

"Status Window."

Name: Saji

Level: 0

EXP: 0/100 (Next Level: 100)

Race: Human

Class: None

Core Stats:

Strength: 20

Agility: 20

Endurance: 20

Intelligence: 20

Wisdom: 20

Unallocated Points: 0

Secondary Stats:

Speed: 20

Athletics: 20

Spirit: 20

Vitality: 20

Derived Stats:

Physical Damage: 10 (Strength/2, min. 1)

Carry Weight: 50 kg (Strength × 10/4)

Mana: 200 (Wisdom × 10)

Health: 200 (Endurance × 10)

Stamina: 200 (Endurance × 10)

Regeneration Rates:

Health: 200 units/min (Vitality × 10)

Mana: 200 units/min (Spirit × 10)

Stamina: 200 units/min (Athletics × 10)

Run Speed: 12 km/h (1 + Speed/10)

Defense: 1

Resistances:

Physical Damage: 0.2% (Ignore up to 45 units/sec)

Poison: 0.1% (Ignore up to 16 units/sec)

Skills:

Cooking: 3

Trap Setting/Disarming: 8

Archery: 2

Swimming: 4

Breath-Holding: 5

Stealth: 3

Life Magic: 23

Spirit Magic: 1

Space Magic: 1

Earth Magic: 1

Water Magic: 1

Fire Magic: 1

Air Magic: 1

Light Magic: -1

Dark Magic: 1

Meditation: 1

Professions:

Herbalist: 2

Fisherman: 16

Tailor: 2

Blacksmith: 1

Carpenter: 1

Oh, the liters of blood sacrificed to progress! The paths where I ran turned red. But it was worth it—my winnings totaled eighty gold. Time to sleep.

Morning was… strange. Nearly all the orphanage kids had switched from old games to Chrysalis. Seeing so many happy faces here was unusual—it felt like a resort-sanctuary on Earth or the Venus colonies.

Logging back in, I woke up in my room again—apparently, my respawn point. I wondered if the real respawn was here too. Too scared to test it.

The dogs were sleeping in the kitchen, so I saw them immediately. Instinctively, I dropped into a defensive stance. Father noticed.

"Good morning. Last time, we didn’t finish discussing where you learned to fight. You have no skill—I can teach you."

Mother glared at him disapprovingly. Clearly, she wasn’t a fan of the dog-training plan.

[You have been offered a skill: Hand-to-Hand Combat.]

Without hesitation, I accepted.

[You have learned: Hand-to-Hand Combat.]

[Hand-to-Hand Combat +1]

[Unarmed Damage +1%]

"Eat first, then meet me outside. We’ll warm up."

Victory was impossible. A 150-level gap, experience, and skill difference made it a one-sided beatdown. Two hours of "sparring" left me with twenty debuffs—I could only remove sixteen.

Father explained: "Humans are nothing but weak points—crown, nose bridge, chin, jugular notch, solar plexus, groin. A well-placed strike crits. Disrupt balance, target joints, use any hard part of your body as a weapon."

The worst hits? A palm-strike to the heart—health loss, paralysis, fractures, internal bleeding. Another was an open-palm strike to the lower abdomen—more bleeding, stun, massive damage. Even with his skills barely used, the damage was terrifying.

I realized I knew nothing about real combat. The sheer number of traumatic techniques—forearm breaks, knee/elbow strikes. Thankfully, Father skipped the lethal ones, only demonstrating stances and principles: crushing the windpipe, slashing arteries with a knife-hand, elbow to the temple, organ ruptures, driving the nose into the brain.

"Humans are fragile. Predators know this—they target weak spots. Even armor has gaps. Exploit them for critical damage. Those who master the Empty Fist turn their whole body into a weapon." He raised his bare hands. "A strike can decapitate or shatter bones without breaking skin. Monks are just one example—not even the strongest. Their class skills are but one facet of true mastery."

"But not all enemies are human."

"True, but most living things share the same body mechanics. Even the undead have weak points." He paused. "Today’s task: find the dogs’ weak spots during combat."

Fighting poisoned dogs required constant healing. I didn’t even notice casting Minor Heal anymore—dodging, parrying, striking, repositioning. Shaking a dog off my neck, healing, blocking. Their skills—Rend Flesh, Tear, Death Grip—were weak. Vulnerable spots? Throat during a bite, neck, eyes, and… the belly. No abdominal muscles—every strike there was a crit, met with whimpers.

If all dogs got injured, Father recalled them, and I had to heal them. The poison barely registered now—only then did I notice the log update:

Poison Resistance +0.05%

Ignore Poison Damage up to 25 units/sec

Physical Resistance +0.04%

Ignore Physical Damage up to 40 units/sec

Life Magic +2

Life Spell Efficiency +25%

[Forced Logout in… 3… 2… 1.]