"Now time to end this."
The words left my mouth without thought. My body was calm, every muscle coiled in readiness. Three bullets. That's all I had.
I didn't need more.
I was ReaperZero.
Twelve kills, no deaths. Terminal Apex Champion. Anonymous queen of killzones and ghost corridors. I didn't need splashy spells or fancy swords.
Just a line of sight.
And a second to think.
I moved.
Fast—left, not straight. That dragon was expecting straight. I zigzagged between trees, diving low, ducking high, feet pounding moss and bark.
The forest became a blur. My HUD blinked faintly in the corner of my eye, tracking heart rate, stamina, terrain incline. It almost felt like I was back in a tournament.
Except one wrong step meant death for real.
The dragon tracked me—its one good eye glowing like an angry sun. It lowered its head, and with a deafening roar, fire burst from its jaws.
"Move, move—!"
The blast swept toward me like a tidal wave of incineration. The heat hit first—blistering. Trees burst into flame on contact. A wall of orange death thundered across the clearing.
I jumped again.
Mid-air, I twisted. Time slowed. Flame danced beneath me, clawing up like it wanted to devour me whole.
I landed hard, shoulder-first into a roll, slamming into the base of a scorched tree. Pain lanced through my ribs. My HUD flared red.
HP: 100 → 67
"Shit—" I hissed, clutching my side.
The dragon reared back, preparing another breath.
No time. No mercy. It knew it had me cornered.
I ducked behind the tree and yanked a stone off the forest floor, tossed it high over my cover and into the opposite bush.
CRACK.
The dragon's head snapped toward the sound.
"Gotcha."
I spun around the other side of the tree, aimed down sights—briefly locking into the rhythm I knew like my own heartbeat.
Bullet One.
I fired.
The shot pierced the damaged wing again, deeper this time—shattering a joint. The dragon screamed, dropping lower, rage ripping from its throat like a broken siren.
Bullet Two.
I aimed for its eye.
Missed by a breath.
But the bullet dug deep into its snout, tearing flesh.
Blood like molten obsidian sprayed across the forest floor. It flinched, reared, staggered back.
One bullet left.
One.
The dragon glared at me, its good eye narrowed. Smoke hissed between its teeth. Its breath flickered—almost ready.
"Alright," I muttered. "Come on. You want to play? Let's play."
I sprinted.
Right at it.
A stupid move for anyone else. But I was already calculating.
Its size? Massive. Turning speed? Slower with a damaged wing. Range of fire? Broad cone.
I moved in erratic curves, switching direction mid-sprint, forcing its head to follow. Left—right—left again. Confuse. Disorient. Make it commit.
It roared and opened its jaw wide, firelight blooming in its throat.
Now.
I slid under the flame.
I hit the moss on my knees and let momentum carry me. The fire exploded just behind me, licking my back, but I was already under its line of attack—under its neck.
I rolled forward, came up kneeling—eye level with its exposed chest.
My finger tightened on the trigger.
Bullet Three.
BANG.
The shot flew straight into the base of its throat—where glowing flame met fragile tissue. It wasn't armored there. I'd seen it flicker when it roared.
The bullet sank deep.
Then the dragon made a sound I've never heard before—half-scream, half-gargle, a choking roar of agony.
It reeled.
It flailed.
It collapsed.
The crash shook the forest like an earthquake. Trees snapped like twigs. Birds screamed into the sky. A burst of ash and heat fanned out in every direction.
I staggered back, barely on my feet, panting, soaked in sweat and blood—mine and not mine. My lungs burned. My ribs ached. My body throbbed like a live wire.
But the dragon didn't move again.
Silence.
Then—
[BOSS DEFEATED: LEVEL 15 – FIREBOUND DRAKE]
[+ 4000 EXP]
[LEVEL UP! → LEVEL 5]
[NEW SKILL ACQUIRED: Combat Insight – You can now see enemy levels and stats.]
[NEW ITEM ACQUIRED: Emberfang Dagger – Forged from the scales of a slain drake. Can pierce up to Tier 2 armor. Grants minor fire resistance.]
[WEAPON UPGRADE UNLOCKED: Rusted Sidearm → Ember-Touched Sidearm (Lvl 2)]
[HP FULLY RESTORED]
The wave of heat in my chest wasn't fire—it was power.
Real, physical power.
I exhaled shakily, the tension slowly draining from my limbs.
"I… killed a dragon," I whispered.
It didn't feel real. The blood on my boots said otherwise.
The Emberfang Dagger appeared in my inventory like a digital reward, then blinked into existence in my hand—black-bladed, glowing faintly red at the edges.
It was light. Balanced. Deadly. The hilt was wrapped in heat-treated leather, shaped to my grip.
I looked down at my gun.
It was still old, still worn—but now the metal shimmered faintly red, the barrel smooth instead of cracked. The interface showed a new stat:
Ammo: 3 / 3 | Reload Time: 6 Minutes
"Now we're talking."
And my body?
The aches were gone.
The fatigue? Vanished.
I felt stronger. Lighter. Faster.
I flexed a hand and watched tiny sparks of reddish energy flicker in my palm.
This wasn't Earth anymore.
I wasn't a ghost in front of a screen.
I was the screen now.
I stood fully and looked around the scorched clearing, the corpse of a monster behind me, glowing slightly with heat.
The adrenaline was fading.
Now came the next problem.
"...Where the hell am I?"
I turned a slow circle.
The forest stretched in every direction—tall trees, violet leaves, lightless paths. No signage. No interface pointing north. No mini-map. Just trees. And more trees.
And I'd been too busy not dying to mark the path.
"Oh, come on."