I didn’t head back out right away.

  That surprised me.

  Old me would have justified it as professionalism—finish the job, take the photos, ignore the weird stuff. But the system had already rewritten my priorities. If monsters were here, and if the system rewarded dealing with them, then wandering blind was stupid.

  So I prepared.

  I checked the lodge’s inventory like a paranoid raccoon. Old hunting knives. A hatchet with a loose handle. Flares. A first-aid kit that looked like it had survived three decades of neglect. I reinforced the hatchet handle with duct tape and threaded paracord through the grip.

  The system watched.

  It didn’t comment.

  That told me something.

  Preparation didn’t give EXP.

  Action did.

  I returned to the cave around noon, nerves tight but focused. Sunlight hit the entrance just right, making it look harmless. Ordinary.

  I didn’t go inside.

  I circled instead.

  Twenty minutes later, I heard the clicking.

  It came from beneath a fallen log—sharp, rhythmic taps like stone on stone. I crouched slowly, heart hammering, and eased the hatchet into my hands.

  The log moved.

  Something scuttled out from underneath it—low to the ground, segmented, its body armored in overlapping plates of gray crystal. Six legs. No eyes.

  It sensed me anyway.

  [Threat Detected]

  This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

  [Hostile Entity: Stone Crawler — LVL 1]

  It lunged.

  I barely dodged, the thing smashing into the dirt where my foot had been. I brought the hatchet down instinctively.

  It skidded off the creature’s armor with a jolt that rattled my arms.

  Pain flared.

  The system chimed.

  [Durability Resistance Detected]

  [Weak Point Analysis Unavailable — Insufficient Perception]

  “Of course,” I growled.

  The crawler twisted, mandibles snapping. I moved without thinking, reacting instead of planning, letting fear sharpen my focus. When it lunged again, I sidestepped and brought the hatchet down on one of its legs.

  The limb shattered.

  The creature screeched—high-pitched, metallic—and I didn’t hesitate. I hacked again. And again.

  It collapsed in a spray of fractured crystal.

  [You have killed Stone Crawler LVL 1]

  [Strength +0.2]

  [Agility +0.1]

  [EXP +7]

  I stood there shaking, chest heaving.

  Two monsters.

  Two confirmations.

  This wasn’t a fluke.

  I didn’t stop after that.

  That was the real turning point.

  I hunted. I wasn't a hunter before but I am quickly becoming one. Not recklessly—not bravely—but methodically. I stayed near landmarks. I marked trees. I learned which sounds meant animals and which meant wrong.

  By the end of the second day, I had killed five more creatures.

  Stone Crawler. Living Stone. A Lurking Shard that detached itself from a cliff face and tried to impale me when I passed beneath it.

  Each kill taught me something.

  The monsters were territorial.

  They stayed near mineral-rich areas—rock faces, caves, riverbeds.

  They weren’t coordinated.

  And they were multiplying.

  On the sixth kill, the system paused.

  Not metaphorically.

  Literally.

  Everything went still.

  Then the text appeared—larger than before, framed in faint gold instead of blue.

  [Area Threshold Reached]

  [Quest Generated]

  LIBERATION PROTOCOL — INITIATED

  Quest: Cleanse the Flathead Zone (South Sector)

  Hostile Entities Detected: 17 (Minimum)

  Zone Status: Contested

  Objectives:

  ? Eliminate hostile entities within designated area

  ? Prevent hostile respawn stabilization

  Rewards:

  ? Title: Pioneer Cleaner

  ? Skill Unlock (Random — Tier 1)

  ? Zone Modifier: Stabilized

  ? EXP: Variable

  Failure Conditions:

  ? User Death

  ? Zone Overrun

  I swallowed.

  “This place has a name now,” I whispered.

  The words User Death sat heavy in my chest.

  I focused on the quest, and a faint, translucent boundary appeared in my vision—stretching through the trees, over hills, wrapping the southern third of the property in a barely visible outline.

  “So if I don’t do this,” I said, staring into the forest, “someone—or something—else will.”

  The woods were quiet.

  Too quiet.

  I tightened my grip on the hatchet and turned north, deeper into the zone.

  If this land was going to be claimed by something—

  It wasn’t going to be stone.

  A final line appeared.

  [Warning: Unmanaged Zones May Escalate]

  I laughed—short, humorless.