As I pushed deeper into the forest, my eyes caught on a wolf—but this one was different. Its fur shimmered with a metallic glint beyond the usual gray-blue, as if it didn't belong to this habitat, like it had been teleported from another planet. Its eyes didn't have the wild spark of normal wolves; they gleamed with cold, calculating intelligence, sizing me up, analyzing me. For a moment, I froze—honestly, my heart did a flip. But then I reminded myself: What's the worst that happens, Haoyu? You die and respawn for free in the starting village. That was the rule of starter zones—death was just a pit stop. That thought pumped courage into my veins.
I pulled my plasma sword from my inventory and hit the switch; the bluish blade hummed to life, heating the air and sparking tiny embers on the grass. The wolf stared at me—but it didn't growl or charge like the others. Was there… disdain in its eyes? Like it was saying, "You? Really, clumsy?" I gritted my teeth and grinned, "Come on, then!" I said, sprinting toward it. The duel was on.
But the wolf… damn it, it didn't act like I expected. I swung first, my sword carving a wide arc, the plasma blade whistling through the air. The wolf slid aside like it was dancing—fast, graceful, too perfect. I struck again, this time from below, but same deal; it slipped away like a shadow, its paws barely disturbing the dirt, almost silent. What the hell? I thought, irritation bubbling up. Minutes passed, we traded moves—I attacked, it dodged. The weird part? It never struck back. It just watched, like it was weighing my every move. My plasma sword grazed its fur a few times, but did nothing—no cut, no burn. It was like my blade was air to it.
I stopped, panting, sweat dripping down my forehead. Okay, Haoyu, chill, I told myself. Maybe it was a bug, or maybe this wolf… was something else. I thought about bailing—What's the big deal? I'll just leave. But right then, the wolf moved. As if it read my mind, it cut me off. I stepped back, it stepped forward; I tried to bolt, it sped up. What is this, a psychic wolf? I was pissed, but also… weirdly curious. What if I died and respawned? I lowered my sword, pretending to give up. And guess what? The wolf stopped. It didn't attack, just kept staring with those mocking eyes. Is this thing screwing with me?
Hours passed. Yeah, hours. The suns—or whatever those orange lights in the sky were—started sinking, painting the forest in gold and purple hues. Our dance went on; I attacked, it dodged. Sometimes I swung so hard that branches caught fire, bushes turned to ash, but the wolf? Not a scratch. At one point, I lost it and yelled, "What do you want from me, damn it?!" My voice echoed through the forest; a few players glanced over and snickered, like I was some kind of clown. But the wolf just tilted its head, as if saying, "Keep going, entertain me."
The physical exhaustion was bad enough, but my mind was fried. The ache in my chest from the earlier wolf fight still throbbed; my boots were caked in mud, my arms numb from swinging the sword. Still, I had to try something. I watched its movements—each dodge seemed to follow a rhythm. Maybe this was a test; maybe I wasn't supposed to hit it, but do something else. I stopped, lowered my sword, and looked straight into its eyes. "Fine," I said, my voice shaking. "What do you want? Tell me."
The wolf paused—for the first time. Its scornful glint faded, replaced by a strange curiosity. But then I messed up. I raised my sword again, pure instinct. The wolf reacted instantly; it didn't dodge this time—it leaped at me. Not an attack, though—it was like it wanted to pin me down. The ground slammed into my back, my sword flew from my hand, the plasma blade fizzled out and sank into the mud. The wolf loomed over me, but it didn't bare its teeth. It just stared—for seconds that felt like forever. My breath caught, my heart pounded in my ears. Then, slowly, it backed off and melted into the forest.
Night had fallen. The sky was draped in a purple-black blanket; stars—or maybe fake lights—flickered faintly. The wolf was gone. I grabbed my sword, hands trembling. No system alerts—no EXP, no points, no "Quest Failed" pop-up. Just… silence. I collapsed, leaning against a tree. What the hell was that? I thought. It wasn't a fight, but I'd gained something—I'd been there. We'd ended in a stalemate, and somehow… it felt meaningful.
The forest around me buzzed with distant wolf growls and player shouts. But in that moment, all I heard was my own breathing.
In the forest's darkness, after that weird, endless dance with the wolf, I'd slumped to the ground. My breath still hadn't steadied; the pain in my chest, my sweat-soaked shirt, and my mud-caked boots were a nasty reminder of how freakishly real this game felt. The sky, cloaked in purple and black, had stars—or whatever those lights were—twinkling weakly. Distant player yells and wolf growls echoed, but all I could hear was my heartbeat. What was that wolf? I wondered, about to stow my sword, when I sensed movement—there, from the depths of the trees.
The hairs on my neck stood up; my instincts screamed danger. I squinted, scanning the shadows. And then… he appeared. A man, gliding out of the forest's gloom, like he'd been born from the darkness itself. Slow, but confident, as if the forest was his backyard. My pulse spiked—was this trouble, or was I just paranoid from exhaustion? My hand reached for my sword, fingers brushing the grip, but before I could draw, he spoke, his voice cutting through the night and freezing me in place.
"Well, damn," he said, with a mocking edge, "looks like we've got a special one here."
His voice was… oddly calm, yet threatening. There was a smirk in it, but was it friendly or hiding something? I couldn't tell. I leaned forward, trying to get a better look. In the forest's dim glow, his outline sharpened. Short, military-cropped hair—so neat it might've been lasered off. His stubble looked freshly shaved, leaving just a faint shadow on his jaw. That jawline could make a Holowood model jealous—not fake, but with a natural hardness. His eyes… holy shit, those eyes. They pierced right through me, like they were scanning my soul; sharp, but amused, like I was some puzzle he was enjoying. Was this an avatar or real? No clue—but this guy didn't feel like a random player.
My hand twitched toward my sword again; my gut screamed, Stop, Haoyu, stay away from this guy. But I didn't listen—couldn't. Exhaustion, anger, and those hours with the wolf had scrambled my brain. I tried to draw my sword. Tried. The plasma blade didn't budge half an inch. Mud! Damn mud had gunked up the mechanism—must've gotten in during my roll with the wolf. "Screw this!" I yelled, chucking the sword into the dirt in a fit of rage. It sank into the mud, fizzling out with a weak hum. I turned to the guy, throwing my arms wide, gasping, "Do whatever you want, man, I don't care!" My voice was a mix of defiance and desperation.
He raised an eyebrow, that mocking grin spreading. He took a slow step closer—not threatening, more like he wanted a better view. He wore strange armor; light but high-tech, like nano-fiber, with faint glowing lines pulsing in the dark. Was he armed? Couldn't tell—but he had this vibe, like he didn't need a weapon. "Easy, kid," he said, with a teasing kindness. "Just… curious. Watched you mess around with that wolf. Not bad, but…" He paused, tilting his head, "kinda green, huh?" His eyes felt like they were blocking my instincts, like getting lost in them was the most natural thing.
He stepped closer, slowly, and started eyeing my arms, inspecting them like he was studying something…