Incoming Call: Karl
He answered without breaking stride.
"Yo."
Karl's voice came through, upbeat and familiar.
"Lukas! You off today, right?"
"Yeah. Just heading home."
"Perfect. Change of plans. Come to my place — the boys are here. We're hanging out, drinking a bit. You down?
Lukas raised an eyebrow.
"No one's logged in?"
"Not tonight. JP brought rum, Migs brought chips, Erik's trying to explain his PvP build using a whiteboard and a marker. It's chaos. You'll love it."
Lukas chuckled under his breath.
"Alright. I'm on my way."
"Atta boy.. We need someone to keep Erik from drawing on the fridge again."
The call ended.
Lukas pocketed his phone and turned down a different street, away from home, away from the pod.
For tonight, the forest could wait.
*****
The door swung open before Lukas could knock.
Karl stood there in a loose shirt and basketball shorts, holding a half-empty bottle of rum and grinning like he'd just pulled off a world boss steal.
"Look who finally decided to log into real life."
Lukas stepped inside, the familiar scent of chips, rum, and fried food hitting him like a wave. The living room was a mess — in the best way. Pizza boxes stacked like a tower defense game. A half-finished bag of chicharrón on the table. The TV was on, but no one was watching it.
JP was sprawled across the beanbag, sipping from a red cup, his hoodie half-zipped and his hair a mess. Migs sat cross-legged on the floor, flipping through a game guidebook like it was sacred scripture. Erik stood by the kitchen counter, dramatically sketching something on a whiteboard with a marker.
"Alright," Erik said, pointing at a stick figure with a glowing hourglass. "This is me. Chronowalker build. I slow time, loop cooldowns, and make bosses cry."
"You almost shit yourself when the mini boss Imbri chased you," Migs muttered. "I almost died laughing."
"It's called strategy," Erik shot back. "You wouldn't understand. You're a Pagan. You just summon shadows and pray they don't eat you."
"When I get good gears, I'll devour everyone." Migs said, deadpan. "And, I know how your class works you bean head ass."
Karl handed Lukas a drink and flopped onto the couch beside him.
"We were just talking about the Syph event," he said. "Apparently some assassin made Top 3 in the Syph leaderboard last week. Solo kills."
Lukas took a sip, the rum burning slightly on the way down.
"Yeah? I've heard about that" he said, keeping his voice even.
"Yeah. Name was Noir. No guild. No party. Just showed up, killed two Syphs, and vanished."
"Sounds like a smurf," JP muttered. "Or a dev alt."
"Or a psychopath," Migs added. "Who solo hunts elite mobs for fun?"
"Or," Erik said, raising a finger, "a legend in the making."
Karl grinned.
"Hey… speaking of vanishing acts," he said, voice dropping just a little, "how's Kim?"
The room quieted slightly — not awkward, but expectant. No one else had brought her up in weeks. They all assumed she was still around. Still part of Lukas' life.
Lukas didn't answer right away. He stared into his drink, the ice clinking softly as he swirled it.
"We broke up," he said finally.
The words landed like a quiet thud.
JP blinked.
"Wait, what? When?"
"A while ago."
"Damn, man," Migs said, sitting up straighter. "You didn't say anything."
"Didn't feel like talking about it."
Karl leaned forward, elbows on his knees.
"Is that why you've been so distant lately?"
Lukas shrugged.
"Maybe. Doesn't matter now."
The silence that followed wasn't heavy — just real. The kind that only happens when friends realize they missed something important.
Karl clinked his cup against Lukas'.
"Well… you're here now. That's what matters."
Lukas gave a small nod.
"Yeah."
"To broken builds, busted drop rates," Karl said, raising his cup again, "and to Lukas — who somehow tanks heartbreak better than Erik tanks with a Chronowalker."
"I don't tank," Erik muttered. "I redefine time."
Everyone laughed. Even Lukas.
Karl dropped them off one by one, the night winding down, but the laughter still echoing.
For a while, the world was simple again — just friends, drinks, and the comfort of being seen, even if only for a moment.
But in the back of his mind, the forest still waited.
*****
Lukas leaned back in his chair, the soft creak of the wood barely audible over the hum of his monitor. His eyes narrowed as he navigated to the Upraised official site, fingers tapping with practiced rhythm.
He wasn't here for lore. Not for flavor text or item descriptions.
He was hunting numbers.
Specifically—the drop rate of the Scroll of Venari.
His jaw tightened. He'd spent hours grinding through those grotesque, snarling beasts. Night Howlers. Each one more vicious than the last. And yet—nothing.
He scrolled.
And then he saw it.
0.05%
His breath caught.
"…You've got to be kidding me."
He stared at the screen, the number burning into his retinas like a cruel joke. One in two thousand. No wonder it felt like hell.
And yet, deep down, he already knew—
He wasn't done.
Not even close.
With a quiet breath, he slid into the NeuroDrive capsule. The lid hissed shut, sealing him in darkness. Neural sync engaged. His heartbeat synced with the hum of the system.
[Logging into Upraised…]
*****
The world of Upraised surged into view.
Noir stood once more at the edge of the Forest of Grotto, his cloak fluttering in the windless dark. The trees loomed like ancient sentinels, their roots tangled in mist and moonlight. The air was still—but not silent. The forest breathed.
Level 6
XP Multiplier Active — 6 Days, 16 Hours Remaining
Quest: The Retired Fang — Retrieve the Scroll of Venari(0/1)
Skills:
Critical Dash Slash — Lv. 1
Swift Step
Backstab
Shadow Feint
Potions: HP x5 | Stamina x3
Stat Points Available: 0
Noir's hand hovered over his daggers.
"Let's keep this going."
The forest at night was different. Not just darker—deeper. Every rustle in the leaves felt deliberate. Every shadow, a threat.
Night Howlers weren't just rare anymore. They were adapting. Smarter. Quieter. Hungrier.
The first one came fast.
A blur of black fur lunged from the side of a shallow stream, jaws wide. Noir rolled, the beast's fangs grazing his shoulder—close enough to feel the heat of its breath.
He dashed wide, boots skimming the moss.
[Backstab]
He blinked behind it, blade plunging into the base of its neck. The Howler shrieked, twisted—
A shimmer peeled off his form.
Clone Echo Triggered.
The phantom double mirrored the blink-strike with eerie precision, striking from the opposite side.
[Critical Dash Slash]
One, two, three, four, five, six slashes. Two crits. Blood sprayed like ink across the underbrush.
The clone echoed the flurry, blades slicing through the air like whispers.
The beast collapsed.
[EXP Gained]
No drop.
Noir didn't even glance at the ground.
"Again."
Hour 1: No drop.
Hour 2: No drop.
[LEVEL UP — Level 7 Reached]
+5 Status Points straight to AGI
His body felt lighter. Dodging cleaner. Slashes faster.
But the scroll still didn't come.
Hour 3.
A patrol of Howlers moved near a ruined path. Noir crouched low, breath steady. He tossed a rock—one peeled off.
[Backstab] — A clean blink-strike.
[Critical Dash Slash] — Six slashes. Three crits.
Clone Echo Triggered. — The phantom followed up, finishing the kill.
Still nothing.
He checked his stamina bar—low. Inventory? Two potions left. He rationed one, wiped the sweat from his brow, and kept moving.
Hour 4: No drop.
[LEVEL UP — Level 8 Reached]
+5 Status Points straight to AGI
[Skill Upgrade — Critical Dash Slash → Lv. 2]
Eight slashes. 40% crit chance.
He stood taller now. More confident. Every cooldown, every blink, every strike—it all flowed like instinct.
Hour 5.
He spotted the next Howler near a dry riverbed. It snarled and lunged.
[Swift Step] — Still on cooldown. He rolled instead, cloak whipping behind him.
[Backstab] — Ready. He blinked behind it, blade slicing deep.
[Critical Dash Slash — Lv. 2] — Eight vicious strikes. Fast. Brutal. Four crits.
Clone Echo Triggered. — The clone mirrored the storm of blades, finishing the job.
[Item Drop: Hidden Scroll — Venari]
"Quest Complete: The Retired Fang
Objective: Retrieve the Scroll of Venari — Complete
Speak to Clark!"
He froze.
There it was.
A scroll wrapped in black silk, glowing with silver glyphs. The air around it shimmered like heat off stone.
He picked it up slowly, reverently.
[Quest Item Acquired: Scroll of Venari]
"…Finally."
But he didn't stop.
Hour 6.
The next Howler came from above—ambush. Claws tore into his shoulder. HP dropped to 41%.
Pain flared. His vision blurred for a second, but his grip didn't falter.
[Swift Step] — Just came off cooldown. He dashed wide, repositioning.
[Backstab] — Blinked behind the beast.
[Critical Dash Slash — Lv. 2] — Eight strikes. The Howler didn't even have time to scream.
Clone Echo Triggered. — The phantom flickered in, finishing the combo with ghostly precision.
[EXP Gained]
[LEVEL UP — Level 9 Reached]
+5 AGI
He stood in the roots of a massive tree, breathing hard, blades dripping.
The scroll was his.
But the forest still whispered.
And something whispered back.
[Logging Out…]
The pod hissed open.
Lukas blinked. His throat was dry, his back damp with sweat. He reached for his water bottle, took a long pull, then checked the time.
"Six hours," he muttered, rubbing his eyes.
He grabbed his phone. Double-checked.
Already time for work.
The sun was sharp when Lukas stepped out. The sidewalk radiated heat through his sneakers. Jeepneys roared past in bursts of color and noise. He shoved his phone into his pocket and walked fast—already cutting it close.
Halfway to the store, he opened Messenger. Not the group chat this time. A forwarded link from a local forum caught his eye.
PlayHawk.ph — a black-themed marketplace where players sold rare drops, gold, scrolls, and gear. He scrolled idly, just killing time.
Then he saw it.
[EXP Multiplier Token (x1)]
Duration: 7 DaysUseable only onceStatus: TradablePrice: ₱50,000
Lukas stopped dead on the sidewalk.
"What the hell?"
He refreshed the page.
Same price. ₱50,000. And people were bidding.
His heart kicked. He remembered his own bonus—still active. Six days and sixteen hours left. And one more token in inventory.
Untouched. Tradable.
"Two weeks," he whispered. "I've got two weeks of x2 EXP."
His thumb hovered over the listing. His brain spun with numbers.
₱50,000. More than a month's salary. For one token.
But without it, he wouldn't have hit Level 9 in two days. Without it, he'd be crawling.
Do I sell it? Or keep it?
He sighed and pocketed the phone.
"Two weeks of x2 EXP is no joke," he muttered. "But damn… ₱50k."
He entered the store five minutes late, clocked in with a forced smile, and spent the next eight hours scanning barcodes and answering the same tired questions.
But his mind never left that token.
₱50,000.
Or future profits.
When his shift ended, he clocked out, tossed his ID into his lanyard, and exhaled.
He'd made his decision.
"I'm keeping it."
He got home, ate cold leftovers straight from the fridge, peeled off his shirt, and sank back into the capsule.
[LOGGING IN…]
Noir stood at the base of the hidden cliff path.
The rain had long dried, but the scent of moss still clung to the trail. He climbed toward the hidden village, slipped through narrow alleys, and stopped at the old wooden door.
Three knocks.
"Oblo," he said.
A soft click. The door creaked open.
Inside, Clark sat behind a worn table, polishing a dusty blade.
Noir stepped forward and held out the scroll.
"You really did it," Clark muttered, eyes scanning the parchment. "The Scroll of Venari."
Noir nodded.
Clark set the scroll aside and reached into a box beneath the desk. He pulled out a bundle wrapped in black cloth.
"This is your reward," he said. "Not EXP. Not silver. But something more useful—if you know how to wield it."
[ITEM RECEIVED: Blueprint – Fangs: Monlit Twin]
The blueprint shimmered faintly in Noir's inventory.
"These were mine once," Clark said, voice low. "Fast. Light. Deadly. The venom formula inside? You won't find it anywhere else."
Noir nodded. "Thanks."
"Use them wisely. And stay quiet. If the wrong people find out…"
"I know."
He turned to leave.
"Oh," Clark added. "Tell Ray I said hi."
Noir returned to the Town of Seldom under a rising moon. The path was quiet. When he reached the forge, Ray looked up from the counter.
"You got it?"
Noir placed the scroll and materials on the table.
Ray smirked. "Clark always did have good taste."
He examined the blueprint, nodded, and threw on his apron.
"You've got everything. Venom Core, Venom Sap, Spider Silk, and the Scroll of Venari."
The forge roared to life.
For twenty minutes, the shop rang with hammering and fire. Sparks danced in the air.
Finally, Ray emerged with two curved black daggers. Their edges shimmered green, like liquid mercury.
[ITEM OBTAINED: Fangs – Monlit Twin]
+20 Agility
30% chance to inflict Poison
Poison Damage: 8% of total attack power per second for 15 seconds
Venom Sap Passive: 20% chance to inflict Dizzy (–30% enemy movement speed for 3 seconds)
Noir took them. They felt natural—like extensions of his arms.
"These," Ray said, "are meant to kill. Fast."
Noir nodded. "I'll put them to good use."
Ray turned back to the forge. "I'm sure you will."
Noir stepped into the night, twin blades strapped to his back.
The next stage of his hunt was about to begin.