The next day, Bulan jolted as a sudden, searing pain shot through his left arm, sharp enough to make his vision blur. He doubled over, clutching his forearm instinctively, but what he felt beneath his fingers wasn't skin. It was something rough, hard, and alien.
With a sickening crackle and an almost organic squelch, his arm began to change before his very eyes. Black, obsidian-like scales erupted from his skin, spreading from his shoulder down to his hand, replacing flesh with an armor that looked both indestructible and alive.
"W-What's happening to me?!" Bulan gasped, his voice ragged with panic. His left arm twitched violently, spasming as if possessed.
The scales overlapped in an intricate, unnatural pattern, forming an almost reptilian surface that glinted faintly in the morning light. It wasn't just armor—it was a weapon. Where his fingers once were, grotesque claws had sprouted, jagged and serrated like the fangs of a beast. They gleamed with a sinister sheen, as though coated in venom or blood that hadn't yet been shed.
Bulan's heart pounded in his chest as he noticed the veins beneath the scales. They glowed faintly with a deep, hellish red, pulsing in time with his racing heartbeat. Each pulse sent an unsettling ripple through the arm, as if the veins were alive and writhing, fighting against the rest of his body.
System: Void Serpent activated 20%
"Void Serpent?" he exclaimed as his left arm relaxed. "Is this a parasite or what!?"
Before he could process further, a familiar voice broke the stillness.
"Human, are you awake?"
Drugo's deep, rumbling tone carried through the door, accompanied by a few hesitant knocks.
"Yeah," Bulan replied, his voice slightly shaky. He quickly tugged his left arm, trying to hide its eerie movement, but the Void Serpent refused to obey, its shadows clinging stubbornly to his arm. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door.
Drugo stood there, his towering figure blocking most of the hallway light. But the moment his eyes fell on Bulan's left arm, his expression shifted—his usual calm confidence replaced by shock. His skin seemed to pale, and his eyes widened as he took an instinctive step back.
"What... did you do?" Drugo asked, his voice uncharacteristically tense, almost trembling.
Bulan glanced down at his left arm, its crimson energy coiling like living shadows. "It's... just a new item," he said, though the uncertainty in his tone was clear even to himself. "It came with the level-up."
Before Drugo could respond, a piercing scream shattered the morning calm, echoing from just outside the restaurant. Both of them froze, their eyes locking.
"That's Hanan!" Bulan gasped, his heart lurching. Without waiting, he bolted past Drugo and down the stairs. Drugo followed close behind.
Bursting through the door, they saw her—Hanan, curled on the ground, clutching her side. Towering over her was an Elf with long yellow hair tied in a braid, her brown robe gleaming ominously in the sunlight.
Bulan saw the name Bruwa float above the Elf Archer's head. She was twirling an arrow in her fingers, her bow slung casually over her shoulder.
"You call yourself an Elf?" Bruwa sneered, her voice dripping with venom. "You're nothing but a disgrace to the Elves!"
Hanan bit her lip, her face pale and tear-streaked. She tried to speak, but Bruwa cut her off kicking her wounded shoulder.
Bulan felt his blood boil. "You Poop!" he shouted.
Bruwa's eyes widened, her smirk faltering for a fraction of a second. "Did you just call me… poop?" she asked, her voice dangerously sweet, as if trying to process the absurdity.
Bulan, undeterred, crossed his arms and nodded. "Yeah, I did. Ugly, stinky poop." He shot a glance at Drugo, who was doing his best to suppress a laugh.
Drugo coughed, his massive frame shaking with the effort. "Well, that's one way to insult someone." He whispered.
Bruwa stared at them both, her face contorting in disbelief. "You think you can insult me like that?!" She nocked another arrow and pointed it at Bulan's head.
"This... is bad," Drugo muttered when he saw a group of men approaching in the distance.
"Ah, this newbie finally caught up," a cold, mocking voice rang out from a figure with glowing gold armor, his interface revealing the name Liyab.
"Tree Man," Bulan whispered, tugging on the larger man's sleeve. "What's going on? Why are they looking at us like that?"
Drugo's jaw tightened. "Because now they can see you... and your gear."
"That arm," Liyab sneered, his red eyes narrowing. "Where did you find it, kid?"
Bulan stepped back instinctively. "It was... a reward. For leveling up...I guess?"
The group of high-leveled players exchanged knowing glances, then burst into laughter.
"A reward?" Liyab chuckled. "You think something ultra rare gear like that just drops for someone like you?"
Bulan frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Drugo stepped in front of Bulan, shielding him with his massive frame. "Ignore him. These kinds of players hunt for items like the one you're wearing. It's not about you. It's about what they can take."
Liyab smirked. "Oh, come on, Drugo. You know how the game works. It's all fair play. If the kid's wearing it, then he has to fight for it. Unless..." He tilted his head mockingly. "He's too scared?"
The taunt hung in the air, thick with the tension of impending conflict. Bulan's eyes narrowed, "Scared?" He said, his voice steady but full of conviction. "I'm not scared of you."
The words were like a challenge thrown into the wind. Liyab's red eyes glittered with a cruel, mocking gleam. He raised a hand and waved it dismissively, turning to the others with a laugh. Bruwa joined in, the sound echoing in the stillness of the morning.
"Not scared?" Bruwa chuckled, her voice sharp. "This is rich. A level 20 noob thinking he can stand up to us." She twirled her arrow in her fingers with casual arrogance, her earlier venomous attitude fading into amusement. "You're in way over your head, kid."
Bulan's gaze remained fixed on Liyab, his defiant posture unwavering. The others in the group—players clad in heavy armor and resplendent gear—snickered behind their leader, their confidence nearly as suffocating as the glare from Liyab's eyes.
Liyab took a step closer, his voice low and threatening. "You think this is some kind of joke? Let me show you just how outmatched you are."
Drugo's hand rested on his wooden staff, but before he could intervene, Liyab raised his hand, signaling him to stay back. "Let him have his moment," Liyab said, his grin widening. "We'll see if he's really not scared."
Bulan stood tall, staring into his opponent cruel smile. Liyab's eyes flicked to Bruwa, a silent command passing between them. She raised her bow, her arrow aimed squarely at Bulan's heart. But Liyab's voice stopped her.
"No. Not here," he said, his voice smooth but carrying a weight of authority. "We'll take this somewhere better," his smile widening as his gaze swept over Bulan and the small crowd gathering. "I'm inviting you to something more fitting. A challenge. Three days from now, the Rage will begin."
The crowd murmured in surprise. The Rage was a legendary 1v1 battle tournament, a place where players could put everything on the line for fame, loot, and, most importantly, respect. Only the bravest and the most skilled dared to participate, and only the strongest emerged victorious.
Liyab shows the place where the Rage will be held using his interface, a massive coliseum located at Sorsogon City. "If you really think you're ready, show up. I'll be there, along with Bruwa and the others," he said, his voice carrying the weight of authority. "Let's see if you're truly not scared when the real fight begins."
The idea of entering the Rage stirred something inside Bulan. His fingers itched to fight, to prove himself, to show that he wasn't just some weakling who stumbled upon a gear. He met Liyab's mocking stare without flinching. "I'll be there," he said, his voice calm, resolute. "And I'll make sure you regret underestimating me."
Liyab's eyes glinted with amusement. "We'll see," he said, turning on his heel, signaling to his group. Bruwa gave a final sneer to Bulan before following Liyab, her eyes burning with disdain, but there was also a flicker of curiosity. Perhaps she, too, was eager to see what the strange new player was capable of. The others in Liyab's party followed suit, their footsteps echoing as they disappeared down the street.