Finally reaching level 5, Max could feel the difference almost immediately. There was a low, steady hum in his body now—like a current of raw energy simmering just beneath the surface of his skin. Every breath felt fuller. Every movement more grounded. For the first time since waking up in this bizarre, dangerous world, Max didn’t feel like a lost beginner. He felt… capable.

  That gnawing urge he’d felt this morning, the near-obsessive drive to reach the next level, suddenly made sense. Whatever this “Split Core” was that the system had mentioned, he could faintly sense it now—three distinct motes of power pulsing inside his chest, distant and veiled, but undeniably real. Powerful. Waiting.

  It’s like a battery… or a furnace. But not ready yet, he thought. Still needs more fuel.

  He didn't know what would happen once they were filled, but he had a strong feeling it would change everything.

  For now, he needed to keep hunting. He wasn’t ready to face that Beast yet, not truly. The system had given him a deadline. One week. That didn’t feel like nearly enough time.

  Max spent the rest of the day tracking down more of the sunbathing draconic beasts. Their behavior was oddly consistent—almost like they respawned after a certain time or patrolled similar loops across the island’s more open terrain. If that was the case, he wasn’t going to complain. Not when they were such good sources of experience and credits.

  He found five more before the sun began to dip behind the jagged silhouette of distant cliffs. Each one fell a little easier than the last. The final kill was particularly satisfying—he downed the creature with a single, fully charged mana bolt to the skull, watching the scaled behemoth crumple in a heap of steaming flesh.

  Still, the loot was underwhelming.

  Despite the effort and danger involved, none of the dragons had dropped gear or items. Just credits—and, once again, a single crimson-glowing Genesis Crystal. His second.

  Credits: 570

  Genesis Crystals: 2

  Max looked over his HUD with a frown as he trekked back toward his camp. 570 credits sounds like a lot… but is it really? He still didn’t have a firm grasp on the value of money in this world. There were no price guides or friendly shopkeepers offering discounts.

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

  Genesis Crystals remained a puzzle Max couldn’t shake. Everything about them screamed value—rare, potent, and far more than just shiny rocks. Even without a store to test their worth, he knew instinctively that these things mattered.

  Were they currency? Power sources? Both? The faint hum they gave off when he held one suggested energy—pure, concentrated essence ready to be used. If they were valuable enough for the System to reward him with five after killing the Beast, that meant they weren’t something you’d just stumble upon in every fight.

  But how many are out there? he wondered. Do all monsters drop them? Or only the special ones?

  He turned the crystal over in his hand, its deep crimson glow reflecting off the flickering firelight. It felt heavy, more like potential than weight. The thought that these might be a finite resource made him clutch it tighter, protective of his prize.

  If these are as rare as they feel… I can’t afford to waste them.

  The lack of loot from the dragons was starting to nag at him. No gear, no ingredients, no crafting materials—just raw currency. He had a suspicion this was the system’s way of saying, “Nice try farming monsters. Here’s your consolation prize, now move along.” It made sense, he supposed. Grinding one kind of creature endlessly probably wasn’t the best way to get stronger in the long run.

  Still, the credits and experience from the level 6 dragons were too good to pass up. It was only the level 5s that had started to feel… stale. Less rewarding. Like the system had caught on.

  As he reached his camp beneath the sheltering willow tree, Max exhaled and began to wind down. The fire pit was cold, the jerky rack still half-full from the last hunt. He checked his supplies, made sure his tent was secured, and leaned against the canvas wall to rest his aching feet.

  His thoughts drifted back to the goblin camp—the outpost he had already raided, and the larger base still deeper in the woods.

  Low-level mobs, most of them, he thought. Easy XP now. Plenty of credits, too. Might even find more gear.

  But then he remembered that thing. The shadow goblin.

  Just thinking about it made his skin crawl. It had been fast—faster than anything else he’d seen so far. And the way it moved, like smoke with claws… He hadn’t even seen its face. Only the glint of eyes and the cut of pain it left behind.

  If there's more of those things waiting for me, I’ll need to be ready.

  Still, the temptation was strong. Between curiosity, greed, and the sheer need to grow stronger, Max felt himself leaning toward going back. His new sword and gear gave him an edge. His magic had improved. He wasn’t the same scared kid hiding from mutant rats anymore.

  He was becoming something more.

  As the stars blinked into view above the treetops, Max’s fingers drifted toward his staff, now resting by the tent’s entrance. He watched the firelight flicker over the polished metal of his blade, Spitefang, and whispered to himself:

  “Tomorrow… I’ll see what secrets that camp’s still hiding.”

  Then, with plans for ambushes and upgrades stirring in his mind, Max drifted into a restless but hopeful sleep—one step closer to facing the Beast once and for all.