The skirmish with the nimble wolves had ended, and the immediate adrenaline was beginning to ebb, leaving behind a cold, sharp clarity. It wasn't that the fight itself was particularly exhausting—my Endurance stat was high enough to keep my lungs from burning and my limbs from feeling like lead—but the physical reality of the dungeon had finally left its mark. I felt a stinging heat on my left shoulder. When I reached up to touch the area, my fingers came away stained with a thin, dark crimson. The nimble wolves had managed to land a few glancing scratches. It wasn't a deep wound, just a set of shallow grooves that had breached the leather, but it was enough to make my heart skip a beat.

  This tiny injury triggered a realization that should have been obvious from the moment I set foot in this world. I had no means to heal myself. I stood there, leaning my weight against the cool, damp stone of the corridor, watching the pale green lines of the wall pulse with their eerie, rhythmic light. Up until this second, I had operated under an incredibly irresponsible, almost arrogant assumption: that as long as my stats were high enough, I could simply avoid being hit. I had viewed the dungeon through the lens of a player who focused entirely on offensive output and experience multipliers, neglecting the most basic rule of survival.

  The stinging in my shoulder was a genuine nuisance, but it served its purpose as a wake-up call. I began to analyze my options, my mind racing through the logic of this world’s systems. I knew I needed to find a way to treat myself if I ever encountered a situation more dangerous than a Level 6 wolf. The first and most grounded method was simple first aid. I could buy bandages, find a source of clean gauze, and perhaps learn about basic medicinal herbs that could be applied to a wound to stop infection and allow it to heal naturally. I could even support this by investing points into my Regeneration stat, essentially turning my body into a machine that repaired its own tissues, though I knew that would be a massive drain on my limited point pool.

  Then, there were pharmaceuticals. In every fantasy story I had ever read, there were potions, elixirs, or tonics that could mend flesh in an instant. Given the existence of magical Obscura coins and a literal system window, it was almost a certainty that "Healing Potions" existed here. I just needed to find out who sold them and exactly how many silver coins a single vial would cost me. Finally, there was the magical or job-based route. This world had specialized roles for everything. There had to be jobs like Priest or Monk that could manipulate mana to seal wounds, or technical jobs like Herbalist or Alchemist that could synthesize medicine from dungeon drops.

  I decided that once I returned to the city of Targashar, my first stop would be the Dungeon Raiders Guild. They were the center of all professional activity, and the receptionists there surely knew which jobs provided the best sustain for a lone raider. This thought provided a small measure of comfort, allowing me to relax my guard just enough to focus on the task at hand. I still had a floor to clear, and a boss was waiting at the end of it.

  I pushed forward into the sixth floor, my eyes scanning the shadows for the telltale green fur of the nimble wolves. The progression of the dungeon was becoming clear: each floor was significantly larger than the last, requiring more time and more physical effort to navigate. On my way toward the boss chamber, I encountered fifty nimble wolves in total. Unlike the lower levels, these predators were starting to coordinate in groups of two more frequently. They would try to flank me, one distracting my shield while the other aimed for my legs or my unarmored neck.

  However, my high stats still gave me a definitive edge. I fell into a rhythm—blocking, parrying, and delivering precise, lethal counter-strikes. I noticed that as I grew more experienced, I was becoming a bit of a student of the other raiders I passed. On this floor, the benefits of party play were becoming undeniable. I watched a group of three coordinated fighters surround a single wolf, making an enemy that gave me a "slippery" time look completely helpless. They worked in a synchronized dance, ensuring that the wolf always had a shield in its face and a blade at its back. It was a safer, more efficient method of hunting than my own "reckless trade" style, and it made me reconsider the value of a companion.

  I was also increasingly grateful for the map I had purchased at the guild. While the sixth floor wasn't a labyrinth of impossible complexity, the sheer scale of the stone halls meant that a single wrong turn could result in hours of aimless wandering into dead ends. The map allowed me to maintain a direct, unwavering heading toward the boss room, saving me both time and stamina.

  When I finally arrived at the massive black doors of the boss chamber, I found a single group of four people waiting their turn in line. I stood back, observing them with a clinical interest. They were a textbook example of a high-functioning party, and I used my 'Identify' skill briefly to gauge their levels and roles. There was a muscular, tall man acting as the vanguard; he had the Soldier job at Level 15 and carried a shield that looked like it could stop a charging bull. He was accompanied by a Dungeon Raider at Level 13, likely the scout and navigator, and an Archer at Level 12 for long-range support.

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  But it was the fourth member who held my attention: a Herbalist at Level 16. This was the role I had just been pondering. I watched as the Herbalist adjusted a heavy satchel filled with vials and dried plants. They were the glue of the team, the one responsible for making sure a stray claw mark didn't end the expedition. Seeing a professional healer in the flesh only reinforced my desire to find a similar job or at least stock up on their products.

  My stomach gave a sharp, hollow growl, reminding me that the sun was likely high in the sky outside. There was no sense in standing around with an empty stomach while the group in front of me tackled the boss, so I sat down against the wall, pulled out the dry provisions I had bought from Stephen, and began to eat. The bread was hard and the meat was salty, but as I washed it down with a long pull of water from my expensive bottle, I felt my strength returning. It took about twenty-five minutes for the glow on the doors to fade, indicating that the party had cleared the room. They emerged a few moments later, looking remarkably composed. They must have had excellent coordination to finish a Level 6 boss that quickly.

  The doors fell still, the white light around the frame extinguishing. I stood up, dusted the dungeon grit from my tunic, and pushed the heavy stone open. As I stepped inside and the doors boomed shut behind me, I felt that familiar surge of anticipation. In the center of the vast, dome-shaped chamber, a single figure began to coalesce from the dark, swirling mist of the dungeon. I let out a breath of relief; I wasn't in the mood to fight a pack today.

  ***

  Race: Nimble Wolf

  Sex: None

  Status: Normal

  Level 6 Floor Boss

  ***

  The creature that stood before me was a nimble wolf, but it was an "Alpha" in every sense of the word. It was roughly the same size as the ones in the hallway, but its fur was significantly fluffier and had a darker, more vicious sheen. Its crimson eyes were fixed on me with a calculating, predatory intensity that made the regular wolves look like mindless beasts. Unlike the common nimble wolves that spent minutes cautiously testing my guard, the Boss took only a heartbeat to evaluate my stance before it launched into a ferocious, high-speed charge.

  There wasn't a massive difference in its raw strength compared to the common wolves, and its speed was only slightly higher, but its ferocity was overwhelming. It attacked like a whirlwind of claws and teeth, forcing me to rely heavily on my iron shield. I played it safe at first, dodging and blocking to gauge the limits of its agility. It was only when I finally attempted my first counter-attack that I encountered the Boss's unique trait.

  I timed a perfect horizontal slash. My steel blade should have bitten deep into the wolf's ribs, but as the edge made contact, I felt a strange sensation of the sword "sliding." It wasn't that the fur was too thick; it was as if the wolf's flesh itself had changed its density or shape at the millisecond of impact. The blade grazed the surface, drawing no blood, even though the strike had been perfectly aimed. I realized then that while previous bosses were just "larger" versions of their kin, this Alpha possessed a specialized defensive ability. It could manipulate its own skin and muscle to redirect the force of a weapon, turning a lethal blow into a harmless graze.

  The fight evolved into a grueling game of cat and mouse. I was starting to gasp for breath, the constant, high-speed maneuvering saping my energy reserves, but the wolf was also beginning to show signs of wear. Every time I landed a direct hit that it couldn't fully deflect, the injuries began to accumulate. It was the most frustrating opponent I had faced thus far—incredibly slippery and hard to pin down—but it lacked the raw power to breach my iron shield. Finally, the Alpha grew desperate. It tried to leap for my chest in a final, all-or-nothing strike, but it lacked the vigor of its opening moves. It fell short, and I met its descent with a brutal, upwards stab to the throat.

  The Alpha gave one final, wet whimper as my steel blade found its mark, and then its body dissolved into the dark mist. As the room returned to silence, I saw the loot clattering onto the stone: 2 silver and 10 copper Obscura coins.

  I sat on the cold floor for a moment, letting my heart rate settle and my breath come back to me. I took the time to calculate my total earnings for the floor. I had collected 21 copper from fifty regular wolves, which came to 1,050 copper. I had already merged those into 10 silver coins on the way to the boss room to lighten my pouch. Adding the boss's drop, my total gain for the day was 12 silver and 10 copper. It was a respectable haul, certainly enough to cover my expenses and then some.

  Finally, I opened my Player Window to check the progress of my growth. The high-density combat of the sixth floor had pushed my jobs to new heights, and for the first time, both my Warrior and Dungeon Raider jobs had hit the milestone of Level 10.

  ***

  Equipped Jobs:

  Swordsman Level 18

  Warrior Level 10

  Dungeon Raider Level 10

  Hunter Level 22

  Villager Level 22

  ***

  [Edited]