Chapter 4: A Test of Strength
The sun dipped low on the horizon, painting the sky with hues of orange and red. Jax Ryker, a seasoned survivalist with a weathered face and a sharp mind, scanned the desolate landscape. The day had been brutal—endless walking, searching for anything useful, and always on guard. But for a brief moment, as the cool evening breeze brushed his face, he allowed himself a sliver of peace.
Just as he thought about setting up camp, a low, guttural growl broke the silence. Jax froze, his instincts kicking in immediately. He knew that sound all too well. Something was lurking nearby—something dangerous.
Out of the shadows, a creature emerged. It was a twisted, nightmarish version of a wolf, its body grotesquely mutated by the post-apocalyptic world. Its fur was patchy, with areas of exposed muscle and skin marred by deep, festering wounds. The beast's eyes glowed an unnatural green, filled with hunger and rage.
"Damn," Jax muttered under his breath, quickly assessing the situation.
The creature, which he mentally dubbed a "Mutant Wolf," was massive—easily twice the size of a normal wolf. Its claws were long, like curved daggers, and its fangs dripped with a viscous, dark fluid that could only be some sort of poison or toxin. This was no ordinary beast, and Jax knew he couldn't afford to take it lightly.
His hand instinctively went to the handle of his weapon—a makeshift spear he'd crafted from a steel rod and a sharpened piece of scrap metal. It wasn't pretty, but it was durable and had saved his life more than once.
The Mutant Wolf growled again, lowering its body as it prepared to pounce. Jax tightened his grip on the spear, his mind racing. The beast was fast, and he needed to anticipate its moves if he wanted to survive.
Without warning, the wolf lunged. Jax rolled to the side just in time, feeling the rush of air as the creature's claws sliced through the space he'd occupied a second earlier. He came up in a crouch, spear at the ready.
The beast snarled, frustrated by its missed attack. It circled Jax, its glowing eyes never leaving him. Jax could feel his heart pounding in his chest, but he forced himself to stay calm. Panic would only get him killed.
The Mutant Wolf charged again, but this time, Jax was ready. He thrust his spear forward, aiming for the creature's exposed flank. The tip of the spear connected, slicing through muscle and drawing a spurt of dark, oozing blood. The beast howled in pain, staggering back.
Jax didn't let up. He quickly repositioned himself, keeping the spear between him and the wolf. But just as he prepared to strike again, something unexpected happened.
A translucent notification flashed in front of his eyes.
"Reflex Boost."
For a moment, Jax was disoriented by the sudden appearance of the message, but then he felt it—the world around him seemed to slow down. Every movement of the beast became more deliberate, more predictable. It was as if his senses had been dialed up to eleven, giving him a split-second advantage in the fight.
The wolf lunged once more, but Jax moved with newfound agility, sidestepping the attack with ease. He countered with a quick jab of his spear, driving the tip deep into the creature's shoulder. The beast howled again, but this time, there was fear in its eyes.
However, Jax knew this boost came at a cost. Each movement, each strike, drained his energy faster than usual. His muscles burned, and his breath came in short, ragged gasps. He couldn't keep this up for long.
Another notification appeared, this time more detailed.
"Profession System Unlocked. Available Professions: Engineer, Scavenger, Combat Specialist."
The words hung in the air, and Jax's mind raced as he processed the new information. This was a game-changer—literally. But with the Mutant Wolf still snarling and bleeding in front of him, there wasn't time to dwell on it.
Jax's eyes flicked between the wolf and the glowing screen in front of him. He knew he needed an edge, something that would turn the tide of this battle. His choice was made in a split second.
"Combat Specialist," he thought, and instantly, he felt another surge of energy.
New techniques, strategies, and a deep understanding of combat flooded his mind. It was like unlocking a part of himself that had been dormant, waiting for this exact moment.
The Mutant Wolf, sensing its prey's change in demeanor, snarled and lunged one final time. But Jax was ready. He sidestepped the attack, his reflexes sharper than ever, and brought the spear down in a powerful arc. The weapon struck true, piercing the beast's chest with a sickening crunch.
The wolf let out one last pained whimper before collapsing in a lifeless heap at Jax's feet.
Breathing heavily, Jax yanked the spear free and stepped back, his eyes never leaving the fallen creature. The fight had been brutal, but he had won. Barely.
As the adrenaline began to fade, Jax looked around, scanning the area for any other threats. But for now, it seemed he was alone. He allowed himself a moment to catch his breath, his mind already turning to the new profession system he had unlocked.
He was still in the early stages of understanding it, but he knew one thing for sure: this was just the beginning.
As he pondered the implications, the world chat buzzed in the background, snippets of conversations filtering through. Others were discovering the profession system too, their reactions ranging from excitement to confusion.
"Got myself a Medic profession. Anyone need healing?"
"Just unlocked Blacksmith! Time to start forging some serious gear!"
"How the hell did I get stuck with Trader? Can't fight worth a damn, but at least I can barter."
Jax smirked at the messages. The world was changing, and fast. Professions were being claimed, and roles were being defined. He was curious to see how this new dynamic would play out, but for now, he had to focus on survival.
"Let's see what this new world has in store for me," he muttered, wiping the sweat from his brow. He adjusted his grip on the spear, feeling the weight of his recent victory and the promise of challenges yet to come.
With one last look at the dead wolf, Jax turned and began to walk, the fading sunlight casting long shadows in his wake. Whatever was coming next, he was ready—or at least, as ready as he could be in a world gone mad.