[You have slain the demonized zombie! Experience +5!]
The notification flashed across William's vision as the enemy crumbled at his feet. A small but satisfying reward for his effort. But there was more than just experience on the line, every kill brought him closer to his goal.
Each time a demonized zombie fell, his path to leveling up became clearer. At level 6, he calculated he'd need to kill about 20 more of these creatures to reach the coveted level 7. The progress was slow but steady, something he could tangibly see and feel.
[Physical stat +0.08! Mental stat +0.02! Energy stat +0.02!]
[Your talent has absorbed some of the demon's extraordinary traits.]
The gains were small but significant, each increment adding to his growing strength. In the dimly lit cave, time seemed to blur, and his senses dulled under the weight of exhaustion and isolation. The cold darkness pressed in from all sides, threatening to erode his resolve. It was the kind of environment that could make a person break, reduce their will to dust.
But William didn't falter.
His mind remained sharp, his body in constant motion. Though a heavy cloud of weariness hung over him, he found solace in the steady drumbeat of progress. There was something exhilarating, almost addictive, about the steady stream of notifications that followed every victory.
Kill. Kill. Kill!
The mantra echoed in his mind, driving him forward. Hours passed, though he barely noticed, slashing his way through wave after wave of undead. He fought relentlessly, his pace unyielding, until the dim cave seemed to merge with the night outside.
After slaying two more zombies, William found himself face-to-face with a new, more menacing foe. He froze, his instincts kicking in.
This was no ordinary zombie.
Instead of rushing in, William crouched low, analyzing his enemy from the shadows. His newly acquired demonic traits pulsed within him, offering him faint insights into the creature before him. The towering figure stood eerily still, but William could sense the power radiating off it.
[Battle Tip: You have encountered a Guardian Zombie.]
[Guardian Zombie: A former guard of the mine. Though once stationed outside, he was trapped within when the ominous eruption occurred. Even in death, he remains bound to his duty.]
An elite monster. William's heart raced. It would be a tough fight, but the rewards, the experience alone; would be substantial.
Should I go for it?
He hesitated. This wasn't like the other battles he had faced so far. After hours of relentless combat, his physical stats had dropped to a concerning 3.1. His body was wearing thin, each movement sluggish with fatigue. Charging headfirst into this fight now would be reckless, a mistake that could cost him everything.
No. Not yet.
William knew his limits. He had been fighting back-to-back, barely giving himself time to rest. Each battle, no matter how small, took its toll. Facing an elite monster in this condition was asking for trouble. Zombies at this level weren't easy to kill, each encounter was a battle of attrition, where even the smallest error could swing the odds out of his favor.
Survive now, fight later.
After every fight, his body demanded time to recover, to prepare for the next challenge. Efficiency in combat was one thing, but surviving the aftermath was just as important. Even now, just thinking about the brutal struggle ahead left him feeling drained.
I'll be back. When I'm stronger, fed, and rested, I'll come back and finish this.
[William, you've been playing for nearly eight hours. Please monitor your gameplay time and find a safe zone to log out.]
The in-game warning flashed before his eyes, but William paid it no mind. A small smile crept across his face. He would be back for that Guardian Zombie; on his terms, not the game's.
The injuries sustained by William's avatar in the game didn't directly transfer to his real body, but somehow, there was a strange connection between the two; what happened in the game seemed to affect him physically. Fatigue in the game lingered when he logged out, and soreness in his real muscles mirrored his in-game battles.
William logged out, blinking against the morning sunlight flooding into his room. After spending what felt like ages in the dark, damp cave of the game, the sudden brightness stung his eyes. He squinted, his body instinctively recoiling from the light. Was it the hours of gaming in darkness, or was it something more? Maybe the demonic traits he'd acquired in the game were starting to affect him outside of it. A faint, nagging discomfort with sunlight had settled in, something he couldn't quite shake.
He shook off the uneasy feeling and checked his status.
[Demon Characteristics: 7/200]
It wasn't a number to ignore. William had a plan; hit level 7, then get out of that cursed mine before his demon traits grew too strong. The place was filled with ominous energy, and he didn't want to tempt fate. The deeper he went, the more unsettling things became, and he wasn't about to risk unlocking some unexpected consequence.
Satisfied with his progress, William leaned back and did a quick mental tally. He estimated he spent about fifty dollars a day just on food and drink; his appetite had skyrocketed since diving into this game, but looking at his savings, he figured he could live comfortably for another two years without worrying about money.
"No big deal," he thought, dismissing the expense with a shrug.
Then, suddenly, he remembered something important. "I haven't paid respects to my parents in a while," he realized with a pang of guilt.
Determined to make amends, William left his apartment and headed to the local market. At the meat stall, he purchased five pounds of pork belly, the freshest cut he could find. Then, at a nearby vendor, he grabbed a large serving of a cold dish made from enoki mushrooms and gluten. He didn't stop there; fish, roasted chicken elbows, fruit, dried goods, everything he could think of to honor his parents. The sheer amount of food would make a feast worthy of their memory.
Back at home, William set to work. The kitchen came alive with the sizzle of pork belly as he stir-fried it with rock sugar, caramelizing the meat into a glossy, fragrant pot of braised pork. A huge pot of rice simmered alongside it, filling the air with a comforting aroma. Every dish was prepared with care, each a tribute to the people who had raised him.
With the food ready, William cleaned the house from top to bottom. He dusted off his parents' portraits and tidied the small shrine dedicated to them. Their framed faces gazed back at him as he carefully arranged the dishes on the table; fish, meat, fruit, and all the delicacies he had brought. The table was overflowing, every inch covered with offerings. Finally, he lit six sticks of incense and placed them before the shrine, watching as the smoke curled upward.
"I'm a hardcore gamer now, Mom and Dad. I don't need blessings from the other side anymore," William muttered with a hint of melancholy. "But just in case... don't worry about me, alright?"
With the ritual complete, it was time for his favorite part, the meal. William devoured the food with incredible gusto. His appetite had become monstrous, like that of a Saiyan from Dragon Ball, shoveling food into his mouth at lightning speed. Every bite was savored, but his hunger seemed endless.
"I eat! I eat! I eat like a beast!" he thought, marveling at his newfound digestion powers. No matter how much he consumed, his body handled it effortlessly.
After demolishing the entire meal, William washed the dishes and cleaned the table. Though his body didn't feel tired, he knew the importance of rest. His spirit level had increased since playing the game, giving him the ability to sleep on command whenever he needed it.
But that night was different. When William finally drifted off, he was pulled into a nightmare. The dream was vivid, chaotic, visions of blood, fire, powerful forces clashing in darkness, and demons swarming over everything. The images were jumbled but left him feeling deeply unsettled.
He woke with a start, the remnants of the nightmare clinging to him like a shadow.
"This demonic stuff is really getting to me," William muttered, exasperated. He knew what was happening, these dreams were the side effects of the demonic traits he had absorbed from the game.
Shaking off the lingering dread, William logged back into the game. The familiar darkness of the mine enveloped him once more, and his eyes immediately scanned his status, everything was in order, his stats fully restored. Without wasting any more time, he rushed toward the monsters ahead.
The battle had begun once again!
William quickly realized he was up against something far more dangerous than the usual zombies. This one was equipped and it wasn't just the rotting flesh he was used to dealing with. The zombie guard wore tough leather armor and wielded a spear, moving with surprising speed and power. It was nothing like the slow, shambling enemies he had cut down before.
The guard towered over him, its limbs much longer, its reach far greater. William, with his shorter frame and smaller weapon, knew he'd have to rely on his agility and wits to survive.
As the spear whistled toward him, he rolled out of the way, narrowly dodging the blow. Coming up behind the creature, William thrust his dagger toward its lower back, aiming for a vital point. But the blade met resistance, the strike stopped cold by the tough leather armor.
"Damn it!" William cursed under his breath, realizing this wasn't going to be easy.
Before he could regroup, a gust of wind warned him of another attack. He lunged backward just as the spear sliced through the space where he had been standing. The speed of the zombie guard was terrifying, forcing William to stay on his toes. He quickly got to his feet, evading the series of thrusts that followed.
The guard moved with surprising finesse for a zombie, its spear slicing through the air with precision and deadly intent. William couldn't afford to fight it head-on. He wasn't built for that kind of combat, not against something this fast and well-armed. His advantage lay in his agility, and he'd need to rely on it to stay alive.
His strategy was clear; hit and run, avoid the full force of the guard's attacks, and strike when there was an opening. Like a thief battling a heavily armored warrior, William darted in and out of the zombie's reach, looking for weak spots.
The problem was, this zombie wasn't like the others. Most of the zombies he'd encountered were slow to turn, lumbering and predictable. They might be strong and fast in straight lines, but they lacked the reflexes to keep up with his agility. Their clumsiness had always been their downfall.
But this zombie guard was different.
It handled the spear with ease, the weapon an extension of its decayed body. William could sense that this creature had once been highly skilled in life, its instincts still sharp even in death. The oppressive force it projected was unlike anything William had felt before, and the narrow mine tunnel only added to the tension.
The darkness didn't help, either. William could barely see the zombie, relying on the sound of its movements and the slight shifts in the air to gauge its position. But his senses were sharp, and over time, he had grown skilled at fighting in low visibility. Listening for the faint creak of armor or the subtle scrape of a spear against stone, he moved with precision, dodging the zombie's blows and searching for an opening.
Yet even with his keen senses, William knew that defeating the guard wouldn't be easy. Zombies were notoriously resilient, able to keep moving long after suffering injuries that would kill a human. Cutting off their heads or stabbing vital organs didn't guarantee a quick victory. Still, they weren't invincible. William's plan was simple, wound it enough to slow it down. Each cut weakened the creature's mobility, chipping away at its strength like slowly boiling a frog.
When the moment came, he would strike the killing blow.
But as the battle dragged on, William found himself growing increasingly frustrated. The zombie guard was no ordinary opponent. Every time William got close, the spear lashed out in retaliation, forcing him back. It was like trying to fight a hedgehog; each approach met with sharp, deadly resistance.
Worse yet, the tunnel they were in was tight, barely two meters wide. William had hoped the narrow space would work to his advantage, limiting the zombie's movements and making it difficult for the guard to swing its spear. But he quickly learned that wasn't the case.
The idea that tight spaces would hinder long weapons? Complete nonsense.
The guard used the tunnel to its advantage, expertly controlling the space. Its spear thrust forward with pinpoint accuracy, leaving William with fewer and fewer places to dodge. The narrowness of the tunnel worked against him now, cutting off his ability to maneuver.
William's stomach twisted as he realized his mistake, he had trapped himself.
"Damn it!" he hissed, frustration boiling over. The zombie guard held the exit, its spear driving him back inch by inch. With each thrust, his available space shrank, forcing him closer to the rough stone wall. He tried to slip past, but the guard was too fast, too precise. The spear was like an impenetrable barrier, blocking any attempt at escape.
For the first time in a long while, William felt the cold grip of panic tightening around him. He was being cornered by a monster, and the realization hit hard.
I'm actually being suppressed by a zombie, using the terrain no less!
It seemed like he was out of options, backed into a desperate situation. The zombie guard loomed in front of him, relentless, its spear poised for another strike. William's mind raced, trying to find a way out of this nightmare, but it felt like time was running out.