Amon's face lit up with a burst of happiness; he knew he had made progress, albeit small. Only two more Suraimus remained. Picking up the same rock, he repeated the feat, dispatching both of the creatures swiftly. Returning to his abode, he burst into the living room with enthusiasm, "I did it! I killed three of those slime thingies!"
Voithos let out a slight chuckle, "They are considered the weakest of the monsters, even by the otherworlders."
Amon's smile faded as he inquired, "Anyways, how many points do I have?"
Voithos replied, "You have three points."
Amon wasn't sure if that was a lot or not. "So, what can I buy?"
Voithos opened up a screen displaying items that three points could purchase, similar to a status window in a game. It read:
'Healing potion - 3 points'
'Mana potion - 3 points' '
STARTER DEAL: Suraimu crossbow - 3 points'
Amon scrutinized his options carefully, knowing little about mana and its use. He found himself torn between the crossbow, which could enhance his point production through range, and the potion, which could heal him when injured. After a moment of contemplation, he made his decision. "I'll take the Suraimu crossbow, please."
Voithos smirked, "A good choice indeed. Due to it being part of the starter deal, I'll also throw in 30 bolts to go with it."
Amon expressed his gratitude, "Thanks. Life's about to become much, much easier."
Voithos handed him the crossbow and bolts, adding, "Remember, these bolts only work on Suraimu, and when you need more bolts, you can purchase 30 for 3 points from me. Good luck on your travels."
Amon felt a newfound wave of confidence surging through him; he felt powerful. He ventured slightly beyond the area where he had encountered the Suraimus before, eventually coming across another small group of four of them. With slow, deliberate breaths, he aimed his crossbow, lining up his shots one by one.
The first bolt struck true, piercing a Suraimu and eliminating it instantly. It appeared that the bolts were exceptionally lethal against them. Amon continued his precise assault, taking down the remaining creatures. "Easy four points," he chuckled to himself.
Unbeknownst to Amon, he had unwittingly ventured into orc territory. These massive, bulky figures wielded clubs larger than cars, had pale yellow skin, and sported malevolent stares. The monsters lumbered forward, crushing parked cars with each step. Amon knew he should have turned back; he wasn't ready. But one thing held him back—his overconfidence.
Despite having hunted only ten Suraimus, he thought himself invincible, convinced that with ten bolts, he could easily overcome an orc. It would turn out to be his most significant mistake...