Chapter 8 Zaboru Dillema
'Phew. Finally far enough from that silverback gorilla.' Zaboru exhaled deeply, his muscles still tense despite the fight being over. The memory of the unconscious beast sprawled on the jungle floor lingered in his mind. 'I got lucky knocking that thing out. If I'd stayed longer, its pack might've shown up. That would've been the end of me.'
Even now, he couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. The jungle was too quiet, the air too still. He kept moving, his footsteps careful and measured, ears straining for any signs of pursuit. 'This world is terrifying. Every step outside a settlement feels like a gamble with my life. I need to find Ragnack City—or at least a settlement—soon. Somewhere I can regroup and start training seriously.'
The memories of the mine came flooding back. The guards hated him, calling him a freak. Oswald had found endless joy in tormenting him. Even the other miners avoided him without explanation. 'In Rising Live, it was just an annoying gameplay mechanic. NPCs wouldn't talk to me unless they were forced to, and most were either hostile or indifferent. But here? Social interaction isn't optional. I'll need to rely on people to survive, and that's going to be... difficult.'
He sighed, frustration bubbling up as he considered his options. 'Charm doesn't affect physical looks—it's about how people perceive you. High Charm people radiate a natural magnetism. They could spout nonsense like "Never give up!" and still inspire loyalty. But low Charm people? We're treated like scum or invisible. And I'm not just at zero. I'm at negative one.'
Zaboru clenched his fists. 'I need a way to counter this stat. A mask... that might work. If I hide my face, maybe it'll lessen the impact of my -1 Charm enough for people to tolerate me.'
'Wait, people would get suspicious if I wore a mask all the time. What if... I gave them a reason? Yes! Scars. If they think I'm hiding facial scars, it could work. People wouldn't be as uncomfortable, and they'd likely sympathize instead of being outright hostile.' A grin formed on Zaboru's face. 'And it doesn't even need to be real scars. Just makeup. Good thing I know how to fake it.'
He thought back to BeauGill, the eccentric makeup master from Rising Live. BeauGill was notorious for his bizarre, yet masterful creations, ranging from fake scars to intricate corpse-like disguises. The maniac could even create makeup mimicking mythical beasts. 'I used some of his scar makeup back in the day. If the recipes transferred to this world through my system... System, show me the requirements for Scars Makeup.'
Item Name: Scars Makeup
Function: Creates makeup that mimics realistic scars.
Ingredients:
Leaf of Crimson RoseAnimal BloodFertile Soil1 drop of Human BloodTree BarkMana Dust
How to Make:
Mix Animal Blood, Tree Bark, Fertile Soil, and Mana Dust until fully blended.Add the Leaf of Crimson Rose and stir thoroughly.Allow the mixture to ferment for two hours.Add a single drop of Human Blood to the concoction before use.Apply to desired areas for realistic scar effects.
Rarity: ★☆☆☆☆ (Common)
'Perfect.' Zaboru's grin widened as he studied the recipe. 'The materials aren't rare. Crimson Rose leaves should be around here, and mana dust... that's not too hard to find either, especially if I can reach Ragnack City. It's common enough there.'
Mana dust was a byproduct of used mana crystals, often left over after their energy was depleted. It had countless applications, from alchemical mixtures to being combined with gunpowder to create mana bombs. While not particularly valuable, it was indispensable for crafting. 'I'll need to gather these ingredients. Once I have the makeup, I can mask my -1 Charm stat and make a plausible excuse for the mask. That'll let me build some kind of reputation without making people avoid or hate me outright.'
With renewed determination, Zaboru began searching the area for the listed ingredients. Hours passed as he combed through the forest, but eventually, he managed to gather everything except the mana dust. He held a bundle of items in his arms, his mind racing. 'Sigh. The mana dust is the only thing left. Maybe I'll get lucky and stumble upon it... Hmm?'
Zaboru's sharp eyes caught sight of smoke curling up into the sky in the distance. His body tensed as he crept forward cautiously. As he approached, he moved into a crouch and advanced silently. Before long, he spotted the source—a camp nestled in the jungle.
'A camp?' he thought, narrowing his eyes. 'If there's a camp here, there might be people nearby. Maybe I can trade for mana dust... or at least get some directions.' His heart raced with cautious hope, but as he peeked through the foliage, his eyes widened in shock.
The scene at the camp was unlike anything he expected.
'What the hell... are those bandits?' Zaboru squinted through the thick foliage at the camp ahead. There were six of them, five surrounding a boy who was tied up and gagged. The boy sat stiffly, trying to look brave, but his trembling limbs and wide, fearful eyes betrayed him.
One of the bandits, who appeared to be the leader, crouched to the boy's eye level, his sneer full of malice.
"Hehe, don't worry, kid," the leader said with a mockingly sweet tone. "Let's hope your parents value you enough. If they do, they'll pay a handsome price for your freedom. And if not... well, I'll just sell you into slavery. Either way, I win."
The other bandits erupted in laughter, their coarse voices echoing through the forest. The boy's face flushed with anger as he struggled against his bonds, letting out muffled protests.
"Ohoho! Damn, what a fierce little brat!" one of the bandits guffawed, clutching his stomach. "Hah! He thinks he's scary!"
'What the fuck... child kidnappers?' Zaboru's fists clenched as he observed from the safety of the bushes.
He carefully assessed the situation. 'They're not pushovers. All of them seem as strong as Oswald. They can use mana, at least a little, and their leader... he's on another level. He might be able to use both mana and chi. This could get ugly.'
Zaboru weighed his options, his heart pounding. 'Should I save the kid... or just walk away? It's none of my business. This world is harsh. Besides, there's no guarantee I can win without getting hurt.'
For a moment, his hesitation made him feel sick. He froze, a bitter smile forming on his face.
'Since when do I need to think twice about saving a kid's life? This isn't a game anymore. Back in Rising Live, I can just walk away. But now... now it feels different. I have to save him.'
His eyes narrowed as he planned his approach. 'If I confront them directly, they might harm the kid. I need to hit them fast and hard, take them out before they can react. I can probably drop four of them in one go... but the leader's another story. He looks experienced and dangerous. He's armed with a sword and shield, while the others just have machetes. I'll need to deal with him carefully.'
Zaboru took a deep breath, the tension in his muscles coiled like a spring. 'There's no way to avoid a fight. All right, let's do this. If I can take out two by surprise, it'll shift the odds in my favor.'
He crept closer to the camp, every movement precise and deliberate. The time to act was now.
'Here goes nothing.' Zaboru though
Zaboru exhaled sharply, focusing his energy. The bandits stood close together, oblivious to the storm about to descend. Enhancing his legs with internal energy, Zaboru leaped into the air like a coiled spring. His body spun with deadly precision as he delivered a spinning hook kick to the first bandit's face, the strike amplified by Strike Breathing.
CRACK! The bandit's head snapped back violently as he was flung to the ground, lifeless.
The remaining four bandits spun around, eyes wide in shock. Before they could react, Zaboru was already moving, his body a blur. He sidestepped to the nearest bandit, his feet slamming into the man's crotch. The bandit winced and bow forward, groaning in agony. Zaboru seized the opening and delivered an uppercut with a fist brimming with Strike Breathing to his chin.
THUD! The second bandit crumpled, unconscious.
The remaining two bandits sprang into action. One charged at Zaboru with a machete, while the other began casting a fireball spell, his hands glowing with fiery energy.
Zaboru dodged the machete's deadly arc with a swift pivot, but his eyes caught the fireball streaking toward him. 'Shit!' he thought as he leapt to the side. The fireball exploded nearby, sending a wave of searing heat and shrapnel across his body. He hissed in pain as blood trickled from a fresh wound on his arm.
The machete-wielding bandit lunged at Zaboru, pressing the advantage. Zaboru sidestepped, aiming a low kick to unbalance his opponent. The bandit saw it coming and evaded, but Zaboru had anticipated the reaction. In one fluid motion, he followed up with a reverse side kick, his heel smashing into the bandit's ribs with Strike Breathing-enhanced force.
The man stumbled back, clutching his side and kneeling in pain.
Before Zaboru could press his advantage, the fireball caster joined the melee, now wielding a machete crackling with fire magic. Zaboru dodged the fiery slash by a hair's breadth, weaving out of its path. The heat scorched his skin, but he remained focused.
Zaboru retaliated with a quick jab to the man's face, but the bandit narrowly dodged and countered with another fiery slash. Zaboru ducked under the blade, his movements a dance of precision, and retaliated with a back kick to the ribs, the impact forcing the air from his opponent's lungs, Zaboru then wanted to quickly follow up the attack with Front Kick, but then he felt danger.
The first bandit, now recovered, rushed to support his comrade. Zaboru cursed under his breath, canceling his attack mid-motion to evade the incoming blow. He pivoted , side stepped and delivered a hook punch, augmented by Strike Breathing, to the attacker's left head. The bandit staggered, dazed.
Not letting up, Zaboru launched a jumping side kick that collided with the bandit's ribs, the force cracking bone and sending him sprawling to the ground. As the bandit writhed in pain, Zaboru stepped forward to finish him with a powerful stomp.
But before Zaboru stomped the man , suddenly, a searing fireball streaked toward him. Zaboru reacted instinctively, leaping aside just in time. As he landed, he channeled energy into his legs, propelling himself like a missile toward the fireball caster.
The bandit's eyes widened in shock as Zaboru closed the distance in an instant. Zaboru's straight punch, brimming with Strike Breathing and his leaping momentum, slammed into the man's face. The caster staggered, stunned. Zaboru followed up with a precise kick to the shin, sending the bandit crumpling to the ground in pain.
As Zaboru raised his fist for the finishing blow to bandit in the ground, a chilling voice cut through the chaos.
"That's enough, or the kid dies!"
Zaboru froze mid-strike, his eyes darting to the leader. The man held the boy tightly, a sword pressed against the child's neck.
"One move, and the kid's dead, fucker," the leader growled, his cold eyes daring Zaboru to act.
Zaboru's mind raced, his body still tense from the fight. He glared at the leader, his heart pounding as he calculated his next move. 'Well shit!'