Ethan opened his stats panel, excitement coursing through him. It was time to allocate his free stat points
In his previous life, he had played as a rogue. The druid's panther form shared some similarities, and this time, he planned to fully commit to it.
As for his stat distribution, he'd already worked out the details. Normal players earned 5 points per level to allocate freely. But with his unique Divine Ability, he got 15 points per level. His plan was to invest 5 points into Strength and 10 into Agility. It was a surefire path to dominance.
But the moment he opened the panel, his hopes were shattered.
Ding…
[Player has activated automatic stat allocation: Strength 20%, Intelligence 20%, Agility 20%, Stamina 20%, Vitality 20%. Once set, this cannot be reversed. Confirm?]
Ethan froze, staring at the message. He knew what this was, a system feature that locked players into a pre-determined growth path. It saved the trouble of manual allocation but robbed players of flexibility. Nobody used it because late-game situations often demanded precise adjustments, like increasing Strength to meet equipment requirements.
"No… No, no, no—"
Ding…
[Configuration set!]
"Are you kidding me?!" Ethan yelled, his frustration boiling over.
There was no doubt in his mind, this was the work of that old man who had forced his class selection earlier. Now the bastard had locked his stat distribution too!
Tears of frustration welled in Ethan's eyes as he cursed silently. The old man's interference felt like a cruel joke.
Meanwhile, somewhere in an unknown location, the old man swigged from his flask, chuckling. "Good thing I stepped in. If I'd let that brat mess with his stats, all my effort picking him out would've been wasted."
Back in the game, Ethan sighed and reopened his panel. He began calculating.
The average player had a Strength growth of 12 stars, translating to 1.2 points per level and could be stacked up to a maximum of 6 attack points.
With the combination of his Abilities, even with balanced stat distribution, Ethan's Strength gain still matched the bonus of building a single stat. Plus, his distributed stats granted him versatility others couldn't match.
Relieved, Ethan felt his confidence returning. Sure, he might not excel in any particular area, but his well-rounded build could unlock strategies others couldn't even dream of.
With renewed determination, Ethan entered the underground power plant.
Panther Form!
Stealth!
At Level 3, he had automatically unlocked the skill Stealth, which let him blend into the shadows in his panther form.
The first floor teemed with Level 1-2 Corrupted Spiders. None could withstand his Shred attack. Before long, Ethan grew bored of even using skills and started swiping them away with basic strikes.
An hour later, Ethan reached the second floor entrance. His experience bar now read 78% to Level 4.
"This is way too slow," he muttered, frowning.
If other players heard him complain, they'd probably lose their minds.
With a glance at his quest log, he saw a full list of 20 active missions. Grinding monsters alone was inefficient; completing these tasks would speed things up.
But as Ethan stepped into the second floor, a sudden chill ran down his spine.
Years of being hunted had honed his instincts, and they screamed one word now: danger.
A rogue.
Acting on instinct, Ethan shifted into stealth and leaped onto a cracked concrete wall nearby. His panther form landed silently as he scanned the area.
A figure appeared where he'd just stood, dagger poised for a sneak attack. The rogue hesitated for a split second before vanishing back into stealth.
"It's him," Ethan thought, his gaze darkening.
Although the person had vanished quickly, Ethan had caught a glimpse of his face making it quite unmistakable.
This was Shadowstrike.
In his previous life, Shadowstrike had been his greatest adversary during his peak. Known for his ruthless efficiency, he was a feared name in both the game and the real world, a mercenary who took on any job for the right price.
Ethan clenched his fists, memories of their rivalry flashing through his mind.
In that life, Ethan had risen to fame thanks to the Wishbound Relic and a set of +30 legendary gear, earning the title of Rogue God. Shadowstrike, on the other hand, had carved his legacy as the God of Assassins through skill alone.
In Ethan's previous life, Zachary had hired Shadowstrike for an exorbitant fee, relentlessly sending him to hunt Ethan down. At first, they were evenly matched. But as time went on, Ethan's equipment lagged behind due to his Wishbound Relic being stolen, engineered by none other than his supposed friend, Zachary.
Without top-tier gear to match his level, Ethan started losing battles. Shadowstrike eventually cornered him at a resurrection point, repeatedly killing him and causing his low-level +30 gear to drop piece by piece. Stripped of his power, Ethan was reduced to Level 1 and forced back to the Novice Village, humiliated.
That grudge from his past life? This time, Ethan intended to settle it.
As memories flooded his mind, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. His instincts screamed.
"Damn!" he cursed inwardly.
Shadowstrike materialized behind him, striking with precision.
Cheap Shot.
Ethan's panther form shook, the blow knocking him out of stealth.
[Cheap Shot: A stealth skill that paralyzes a non-combat target for 1 minute. Any damage will awaken the target. Usable only on one target at a time.]
Ethan couldn't help but laugh bitterly. When he had jumped onto the cement wall earlier, he had kicked up a faint puff of dust. That tiny clue had been enough for Shadowstrike to track him.
"I see…" Ethan muttered. "Even in the early game, you're still terrifyingly sharp."
Locked in paralysis, Ethan could do nothing but wait as the seconds ticked down. He braced himself for Shadowstrike's follow-up skill. Ambush would stun him for another 15 seconds, but Ethan wasn't worried. Shadowstrike was only Level 2 and had no hig grade skills. With Ethan's 160 HP and 20 Defense, there was no way he could be killed in one strike.
Fifteen seconds of stun? Ethan could live with that. Once it wore off, he'd end this.
Seconds crawled by, and yet… nothing. No follow-up. Shadowstrike didn't attack.
"Wait… did he leave?" Ethan thought, his mind racing. "For the love of—hit me already! One hit breaks the paralysis!"
Ethan had done this himself countless times as a Rogue in his past life. Walk by, hit someone with Cheap Shot, and then leave them paralyzed. Unless they had a skill to break control, the poor victim was stuck for the full duration.
Cheap Shot was one of the most obnoxious Rogue skills. It could only be used in stealth and couldn't target players already in combat. Once hit, a victim either had to wait it out or rely on rare countermeasures to break free. However, most players wouldn't waste those valuable skills on such an inconvenience.
Ethan grimaced as the seconds stretched on. Rogues could stack paralysis with a "three-strike stun combo": Cheap Shot, followed by Ambush, and ending with a second Cheap Shot. The fourth attempt would fail due to immunity, but the first three strikes alone could immobilize someone for up to 1 minute and 45 seconds. It was maddening.
Now, paralyzed in place, Ethan had a new realization on just how annoying Rogues could be.
"Rogues," he thought bitterly, "are such bastards."
---
Three seconds remained. Ethan silently counted down, preparing to launch into stealth the moment the effect ended.
3… 2…
Ding!
[You have been hit by Shadowstrike's Cheap Shot. Paralyzed for 30 seconds (reduced from 1 minute due to diminished effects).]
"What the—?!" Ethan growled, rage bubbling up.
He readied himself for combat, muscles tensing for retaliation. This wasn't the Shadowstrike he remembered. The legendary God of Assassins who never hesitated, who killed decisively and without remorse, was playing a disturbingly petty game.
Ethan couldn't believe it. The Shadowstrike he had known was famous for a legendary assassination. This was an event that had cemented his reputation across the game.
---
The incident took place in the bustling metropolis of Harmony City, where the reigning guild leader of the Blade Syndicate, Marcus Steelblade, was celebrating his recent victory. Known as the "Warrior King," Marcus was a shield-wielding tank with defenses so high that Rogues wouldn't dare approach him.
Marcus had been grinding monsters with his new girlfriend, flanked by 300 guild members guarding their farming grounds. Whether he was genuinely leveling up or just showing off was anyone's guess.
Shadowstrike had slipped past every layer of security, bypassing three rings of guild members. When he reached Marcus, his ambush was swift and brutal, a flawless chain of stuns and critical hits.
Starting with Ambush, then following up with Kidney Strike, Sap, and Shadow Meld, Shadowstrike unleashed a perfect flurry of crowd control and burst damage. It was rumoured that Marcus was not even able to react. He was slowly whittled down over 50 excruciating seconds. Even his top-tier shield couldn't save him.
That assassination became the stuff of legends. Shadowstrike earned the title of "God of Assassins," and his reputation only grew as he systematically eliminated other high-profile players.
But here, in this timeline? The man Ethan faced was still inexperienced. Shadowstrike hadn't yet become the infamous killer of Ethan's past life.
A smirk tugged at Ethan's lips.
"You're still a rookie," he muttered. "This time, I'm putting an end to your reign before it even starts."
___
Author:
I made some changes from earlier chapters so please take note. Support me by adding to your library, commenting and voting. More chapters incoming~