Turns out I didn’t have to wait long.

  Only took a few minutes for the demon tree woman to stop moving and, I assumed, bleed out. She made one last effort, arching her back in a horrible full-body spasm that ended with a guttural scream before collapsing flat and still.

  Not going to lie, it felt weird watching something shaped like a woman die, even if that “something” was planning on killing me.

  Holy crap.

  I laughed once. It came out dry and short, the kind of sound that shouldn’t exist in the quiet that followed a death. That was a lot of experience points. And I'm up another five levels!

  Twenty thousand was the most I’d ever seen, a big step up from one exp for rabbits. What made the difference though? The level gap? The title Matriarch? Maybe she was a boss monster. Maybe the world had tiers, and I’d just killed something way out of mine. Whatever it was, I doubted I’d ever understand how this system actually did its math.

  Then there was the exp for [Magic Mouth]. That number was even higher. I’d apparently hit one of those “multiples of ten” thresholds, jumping from level 13 to 27 in one go. Guess the system liked efficiency—or maybe it just wanted to reward creative trauma.

  Or maybe I bugged the system, I'm pretty sure using only my mouth to kill Miss Boss Monster is atypical.

  I gave my lips an experimental flick to see if the ability had changed anything. My mouth moved normally, but my lips didn’t. It was like bumping up against something that had been bolted in place.

  Weird.

  Still, the sheer size of the exp dump made my legs wobble. I sat back on my heels, staring at the glowing screen until it dissolved into the air. The forest around me felt empty, waiting. Like the world itself was holding its breath.

  I’d done it. Another impossible thing crossed off the list.

  “Jeez,” I muttered as I dismissed the screen. “Alright. Let’s see what’s next.”

  Huh. Pretty even spread. Honestly, not going to complain about the two points in vitality. Anything that makes me a little harder to kill in this world is a win.

  The blue screens faded, and for a moment everything just… hummed. The forest, the air, my pulse. It all synced into this low electric rhythm that made me realize how long it had been since I’d eaten, slept, or felt safe.

  I stood there breathing in the scent of scorched bark and oily sap, the corpse still cooling behind me. I’d survived again. And for the first time in a while, it hit me that maybe survival wasn’t the same thing as living.

  Plus, it looked like I got a point in dexterity from Magic Mouth going past level twenty. Just one point, same as the one I got for hitting level ten. I had honestly expected something bigger for passing twenty. You would think ripping out the throat of something three times my level would get me at least a round of applause or a second stat point. Guess not.

  PAIN

  I was on my knees before I even realized I had fallen. For a heartbeat, I could not remember why. Then the headache and electric nerves hit, a quick, sharp throb that blossomed behind my eyes and made everything tilt.

  Right. Stat increases. I had forgotten how awful those could feel in large batches. It wasn’t nearly as bad as the first time, when it felt like my brain had been put in a blender, but it was still enough that I lost awareness for a second like someone had reached into my skull and flicked the off switch.

  I lay there breathing slowly until the dull pounding settled. Besides the headache, I actually felt… good. Better than good. My whole body felt taut and loose at the same time, like a muscle that had finally stretched after being wound too tight. A weird calm washed through me.

  So this was the impact of more stats. No overwhelming sense of destiny yet, thank God. I really hoped that part was a joke.

  I pushed myself upright and blinked the blur out of my eyes.

  “Let’s see what the damage is,” I muttered.

  Abilities:

  · Musical Resonant Frequency (Level 19)

  · Influence Immunity (Level N/A)

  · Magic Mouth (Level 27)

  · Vicious Mockery (Level 1)

  · Magical Berry (Level 1)

  May you find your Fortune on Fortune!

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  “Well damn,” I said under my breath. “If this were Dungeons and Dragons, I’d be coming to the table as a problem character.”

  I raised my arm and gave it a slow test flex. It still looked like my normal arm. Pale. Thin. Nothing that would intimidate anyone besides maybe a houseplant. But it moved differently. Smoother. More controlled. I could feel strength behind the motion, the same way you can feel the difference between cheap plastic and real metal.

  Honestly, if Earth had stat points gyms would go out of business.

  I shifted my weight and caught the faint hum of vitality in my chest, like a warm line tracing up my ribs. I did feel healthier. Stronger. Like I could take a punch and not crumple. Vitality 15…if my theory was right, that meant I was fifty percent sturdier than my normal, average-guy self. No clue what that meant long-term, but it felt good right now.

  My mind felt the same though. No sudden brilliance. No ability to solve math problems or understand tax law. Intelligence 13 just sat there being thirteen. Same with wisdom, eighteen points of it, and I still didn’t feel any wiser. Maybe I had to meditate or read a book or pet a goat or something to activate it.

  And then there was charisma, at twenty freaking points.

  “What am I supposed to do with that?” I asked the empty forest.

  My working theory says I was now twice as charismatic as I used to be, which was funny because I had barely talked to anyone here besides a raider who died immediately and a monster who tried to rip my head off.

  Hard to judge my magnetism when the only social interactions I’d had ended in violence, then death.

  Still, it was something. Stats were stats, and I needed every edge in this nightmare.

  Looking down, I studied the body of the tree monster woman. Now that everything was still the question hit me all at once: what exactly was I supposed to do with her? Leave her here? Try to bury her? Burn her?

  And if I did any of that, did I have to do the same thing for her three… daughters? Smaller tree monsters sprawled out like discarded dolls. The whole scene looked like a crime scene from a nature documentary directed by a lunatic.

  While I was debating morality versus practicality, something caught my eye. A faint glint of metal on her left pinky. I crouched down and lifted her hand. The bark around her finger had grown up and around the metal like it was trying to swallow it.

  A ring. A silver ring, highly decorative. It had this strange oily shine, like light tried to bounce off but slid away instead. It gave me a weird feeling in my stomach. Magic, probably. Or cursed. Or both.

  Either way, valuable.

  I tried to ease it off, hoping maybe the bark had only grown over it lightly. No such luck, it was fused straight into the wood of her finger. The only way to get it off would be to remove the finger itself and chip away the extra bark. The only tool I had capable of that was my mouth. My reinforced magic mouth.

  And yeah, that was where my line was.

  I might be in survival mode, but biting off a corpse’s finger for loot? No thank you. I had done enough biting for today to last several lifetimes.

  I let her hand fall gently back to the ground and took a step away. That was enough corpse time for one afternoon, I needed to get out of here. The problem was, I had no clue which direction was which anymore. Between the run, the teleportation, the fight, and the long, slow death scene, I had completely lost my sense of direction.

  Looking around for any sign of where I had come from, I spotted oddities in the forest in the corner of my eye. I turned around and right behind me was what I could only describe as the aftermath of someone driving a truck through the forest. Bushes flattened, small trees snapped, the undergrowth shoved aside like wet paper. A clear line cut straight through the woods in one direction.

  She must have sprinted from wherever she was, barreling through anything in her way the moment she sensed her daughters dying. Looking down the route she carved, I noticed trees she had clipped or slammed into. One tree even leaned sideways with a deep carved chunk missing from its trunk.

  Huh.

  I looked at the fused ring again. If she had that, she must have gotten it from somewhere, which meant people had been nearby.

  People with gear. Supplies. Beds.

  And if she came from that direction, then her home base or nest or whatever she used was probably down that path.

  She and her daughters were dead now.

  So…

  If there were a home base, I could raid it.

  I mean considering they seemed to attack anything human and hunt it down, there was probably a lot to scavenge. If she had a ring, she probably kept other things too. Maybe trophies. Maybe gear. Maybe even something useful.

  This was a stretch and knew it, but the mixture of hope and not hint of any other opportunities made me consider it.

  Even though thinking it felt wrong, surviving came before ethics. Supplies meant living another day, meant maybe not dying to a squirrel, meant maybe more than rations and panic attacks.

  The only danger was whether or not more tree women were waiting down that path. Or if I had already killed the entire family tree – literally.

  I let out a long sigh. I really did not have many options. I needed supplies. I needed a weapon. I needed… well, anything, and I really lacked other options – right every direction I had to go in the forest was about the same. So I squared myself up and started walking in the direction she had come from.

  Her path was impossible to miss. It really did look like a drunk semi-truck plowed through the forest without braking. Branches snapped everywhere. Bushes crushed flat. Leaves were scattered like someone had raked them violently with a bulldozer. I didn’t even have to think about direction; the path practically shouted "follow me."

  She must have been running hard. Some trees had dents, deep grooves where she had clipped them at speed. One tree was split halfway up the trunk, like she had hit it with her shoulder like a linebacker and kept going anyway.

  After maybe fifteen minutes, whatever remained of my adrenaline ran out. I slowed down and felt the first creeping edges of hunger and thirst. My throat was sandpaper. My stomach had started to feel like it was trying to chew itself.

  I had a little ration bar left and some water, but should I save it? I hesitated—then remembered.

  “Wait,” I muttered. “I’ve got that new thing. [Magical Berry].”

  If the description was right, one berry satisfied the need for food and water. That seemed… insane. But honestly, everything in this world seemed insane, so at least it was consistent.

  I stopped by a large tree with roots curling out like lazy snakes. Leaning my back against it, I took off my bag and set it on the ground.

  I held out my hand, palm up, fingers relaxed. “Alright,” I said quietly, hoping the forest wasn’t watching.

  I activated the ability.

  A tiny bright blue ball blinked into existence in my palm. About the size of a bead.

  I stared at it.

  “Well,” I said out loud, “that is underwhelming.”

  I had just performed actual magic, and the result looked like a miniature M&M someone had painted with spray paint. I reserved the right to be unimpressed.

  Casting it had used up a noticeable chunk of my magic juice. About an eighth of the amount I could sense in my head. Also, whatever it was — mana, essence, arcana energy — whatever the real term was, I was sticking with magic juice until someone corrected me.

  I studied the berry. It was smooth and perfectly round, no dimples or spots where a stem should be. Blueberry colored, vitamin-shaped. I pressed it between my fingers; it squished slightly, then bounced back.

  “Okay,” I said. “What the hell do I have to lose?”

  I popped it into my mouth and swallowed it whole. No chewing. Just commitment.

  I expected something to happen right away. Some kind of spark. A flash. Maybe a little buzzing sensation as you get from cheap energy drinks. I sat there with my hand still pressed to my mouth, waiting for the magic to announce itself.

  Nothing.

  I frowned. Maybe I was supposed to chew it?

  It’s not like the damn thing came with instructions. Or a warning label. Or a helpful pop-up telling me how not to swallow magical produce whole.

  Then I felt it.

  About five seconds after swallowing, a warm wave rolled through my stomach. It wasn’t dramatic, just a spreading comfort, like drinking hot soup on a cold afternoon. Then came the fullness. Not the painful stuffed feeling from overeating, but the solid, satisfying kind you get from a proper meal. My thirst vanished too, the dryness in my throat dissolved like it had never been there.

  “Well,” I said softly, “that’s not bad.”

  For the first time in hours, maybe days, I felt stable. Fed. Hydrated. Alive. This was exactly how magic abilities were supposed to work. No horror. No biting monsters. Just convenience.

  Plus, this was miles better than grassy-tasting minnows.

  Feeling almost cheerful, I summoned another berry and popped it into my mouth without a second thought, already starting to walk along the trail again.

  A violent, painful rush hit my stomach, and I doubled over, projectile vomiting with enough force to make me wonder if I had briefly become a fountain. I dropped to my hands and knees, gagging as I expelled what looked like blue Kool-Aid onto the forest floor.

  “Oh geez,” I wheezed, spitting until my mouth felt clean enough to taste again. My throat burned. My eyes watered. I kept coughing like my body wanted to make very sure I got the message.

  Once I stopped heaving, I sat back and tried to figure out what I’d done wrong. It did not take long, as I yanked up my status and focused on the ability description.

  “Okay. Yeah. That explains it.”

  One berry equals one full day of food and water. I had eaten two. That meant I had basically attempted to shove two days’ worth of sustenance in my stomach at once. Of course, my body revolted. That was not just overeating; it was binge drinking at the frat house.

  I had forgotten about the healing part. I checked my arm where the Matriarch had tossed me earlier. The scrapes were faint now, scabbed over instead of raw. The healing part of the ability really was doing something. Slightly or not, it was noticeable.

  After a while after waiting long enough to make sure I wasn’t about to puke again, I got back on my feet. I thought about trying another berry, then immediately decided no. Absolutely not. Lesson learned.

  I kept following the Matriarch’s trail. The walk was easy, but the silence was unnerving. No rustling, no chirps, no distant thumps. No life at all. Just the crunch of my own footsteps.

  About thirty minutes in, I started to smell something.

  My brain went straight to roadkill the moment the smell hit me. That thick, soupy stink of something dead baking in the sun for days. Then I remembered there were no roads here. Which somehow made it worse.

  I kept walking because the trail was clear and because stopping meant thinking too hard about what the smell could be. Another twenty minutes or so, and it was not just bad. It was almost physical. Like the air itself had gone rotten. My eyes watered. My throat tried to close. I found myself breathing through my mouth and instantly regretting it. I would have given anything for a mask. A scarf. Anything to put between the smell and me.

  Walking toward the stench of rot felt like making bad life choices in slow motion. Every step forward felt like a step that should have come with dramatic music warning the audience that the idiot protagonist was about to do something stupid.

  Then the trees thinned, and I stepped across a little arched bridge made from roots. Beyond it, I saw something in the distance. Shapes. Mounds. Little hills or maybe piles of leaves. For a moment, my brain scrambled to make them into something harmless. A stack of fallen branches, maybe. Or heaps of those giant leaves from earlier.

  But the smell told the truth before my eyes accepted it. I forced myself forward even as my stomach rolled. Then I knew exactly what I was looking at.

  All the missing wildlife.

  Piles and piles of it.

  Mountains of limp shapes slumped together. Squirrels, raccoons, rabbits, deer, foxes, birds, most things so rotted I could not even guess what they were. Mixed together in wet heaps like someone had shoveled the entire forest into a trash pile. The bodies stretched back farther than I could see. A whole field of death arranged with zero care and zero purpose. Swarms of black bugs that looked like flies hovered over the piles.

  I stopped walking and just stared. My scalp prickled. My arms went cold. Everything made sense now. Why was the forest silent. Why there were no signs of life except for the screams of monsters. These wood ladies had been luring everything in with their songs and seduction tricks and then killing it. Not even eating it. Just slaughtering everything that wandered close and dropping the bodies where they fell.

  What kind of creature does that?

  I swallowed against the bile creeping up my throat. My immunity to their influence had saved me without me even knowing it. If I had been under their effect like every other animal in this forest, I would be lying in that pile right now. That thought settled on me like a cold, wet coat.

  I could not stay here. This had to be a health hazard. The kind of place that breeds plagues and nightmares. I breathed shallowly and forced my focus away from the heaps. I had come this way hoping for scavenging, not for trauma.

  Looking around carefully, I spotted something. A small, narrow path veered off to the left of the corpse field. It led toward a dark opening tucked between two large roots and a rock outcropping. A cave or maybe a burrow. It looked like something had gone in and out of it often enough to keep the entrance clear. Probably the Matriarch. Or her daughters. Or whatever they used as a home.

  I stood there a moment, listening for anything alive. Nothing. Just the buzzing, heavy silence of a place that had seen too much death.

  I took a breath through my teeth and stepped toward the cave.

  Maybe, for once, I would get lucky.