There was no sunrise in the dungeon. No sky to greet the living. Just damp, stone silence… and the low, constant drip-drip-drip that had started to sound like a clock. A cruel one—counting down to Max's next death.
He sat with his back to the wall, eyes half-lidded, blood crusted along the edges of his jaw. The three Rotling corpses lay in pieces around him, still twitching as if unaware they were dead.
Max didn't feel triumphant. He felt tired. Bone-tired.
His muscles ached. His ribs were sore. His right arm—bruised. His system screen floated in front of him like a silent observer, glowing faint blue.
[Status: Max Steels]
>Level: 1
>Lives Remaining: 99
>EXP: 24 / 100
>HP: 42 / 100
>Skills:
– Panic Reflex Lv.1 (+20% dodge when HP < 30%)
– Death Taught Me (+1% all stats per death)
>Title: First Blood
>Mutation Count: 1
He squinted at it. "So I killed three zombie wannabes… and didn't even level up?"
He expected the system to answer.
It didn't.
"Figures," Max muttered. "I've died once, got mauled twice, bled like a movie extra… and I'm still level one."
But then again—this wasn't a game.
No power-ups. No safety nets. If he died 100 times, that was it. Game over. Real death.
He pushed himself up with a grunt. "Alright. Crying about it won't help."
His voice echoed in the chamber, small and sharp.
Max staggered over to one of the Rotling corpses and kicked it. Hard. Its skull rolled a few feet and hit the wall with a wet thunk.
"…Still gross."
He glanced down. One of them had a rusty knife clutched in its skeletal grip.
Score.
He pried it free, ignoring the stench. The blade was chipped and dark with something he didn't want to identify, but it was better than a pipe.
"Congratulations," he told himself, twirling it once. "You're now the proud owner of tetanus."
[Item Acquired: Rusted Shiv]
– Tier: Trash
– Damage: 4–7
– Durability: 11%
– Status Effect: May cause infection. Do not lick.
"…Noted."
He took a breath. The dungeon ahead split into two narrow paths. One curved downward into thicker mist. The other bent toward flickering red light and groaning metal.
Neither screamed safety.
Max chose the red light.
Why?
Because it looked slightly less haunted.
He crept through the corridor, knife in hand. Each step made his sneakers squish slightly—still soaked from the earlier fight. The sound annoyed him. Echoed off the walls like a warning bell.
"I really miss socks," he whispered.
The hallway opened into a larger chamber. Dim torchlight bathed the stone in flickering shadows. Chains swung lazily from the ceiling. A skeletal statue stood in the center—arms outstretched, mouth open in a silent scream.
But it wasn't the statue that made Max freeze.
It was the thing chained to the far wall.
A man. Or what used to be one.
Tall. Muscled. Shirtless, with glowing tattoos across his arms and chest. His head hung low, long black hair hiding his face. And chains—dozens of them—wrapped around his limbs like a living cocoon.
Max stepped closer.
The figure didn't move.
[Prisoner Detected: Unknown Entity – ???]
Status: Asleep. Power Sealed. Danger Level: Variable.]
Max narrowed his eyes. "Variable? What's that even mean? Like… could kill me or could make me tea?"
No answer.
Of course.
Max circled the chamber carefully. There was a lever embedded in the floor near the statue. A plaque beside it read:
"Pull to Begin the Trial of Bonds."
"Trial?" Max muttered. "No thanks. I just got here. I'll pass on waking the murder monk."
But curiosity… it scratched at him.
He didn't have to pull the lever.
But what if the guy could help?
Or drop loot?
Or… say something that made this whole nightmare make sense?
Max sighed. "Curiosity killed the cat. Let's see if it upgrades the idiot."
He pulled the lever.
The floor trembled.
Chains rattled violently.
The tattooed figure lifted his head slowly. Eyes opened—glowing molten red.
"Ah," Max said, already stepping back. "Yep. This was a mistake."
[Trial Initiated: Defeat the Chained Berserker]
Time Limit: 2 minutes
Objective: Survive.
"Survive?" Max yelped. "That's not a win condition! That's just existing!"
The Berserker's chains burst.
With an earth-shaking roar, he charged.
Max barely dove to the side in time. Stone shattered where he'd been standing. Dust and debris flew.
He rolled, scrambled, and stabbed blindly.
The shiv bounced off the Berserker's shoulder like a toothpick against steel.
"Awesome!" Max shouted as he bolted behind a pillar. "Of course the first boss is a glow-eyed psychopath bodybuilder!"
The Berserker growled low—and lifted the entire pillar.
"Oh COME ON—"
He threw it.
Max dove again—this time not cleanly. The edge of the stone caught his leg. He tumbled hard, skidding across the bloodstained floor.
HP dropped.
Vision blurred.
But the system didn't let him faint.
[HP: 19/100]
Panic Reflex Activated.
Dodge chance increased.
Max coughed. "Great… Now I'm officially panicking."
The Berserker raised both fists—and slammed them into the ground. Cracks spiderwebbed out in all directions.
Max ran.
Weaved.
Slipped on blood—then rolled back to his feet like some awkward action movie reject.
He leapt onto the chained statue in the center, using it as a makeshift wall. The Berserker snarled and lunged.
Max jumped off, using the statue's back as a springboard—and landed on the Berserker's back.
Knife in hand.
"SCREAM FOR ME, GYM DEMON!" he yelled—and stabbed downward with all his strength.
The blade barely went in.
But the Berserker staggered.
"Yeah, how's that taste?!" Max shouted, stabbing again. "You like tetanus, big guy?!"
The monster roared—and threw Max off.
He crashed into a stone brazier and collapsed.
His ribs screamed. His vision swam.
The Berserker stomped toward him.
[20 Seconds Remaining.]
Max coughed blood. "This is gonna suck…"
He stood—barely. Knife gone. Vision fading.
He didn't run.
He raised his fists.
The Berserker swung—
And the world went black.
Death #2
[You have 98 lives remaining.]
[Death Mutation Triggered…]
Skill Gained: Tenacity Lv.1 – 5% chance to resist fatal blow once per fight.]
Max sat up.
Same chamber. Same cold stone.
The Berserker was gone.
The statue had split in half. The lever was broken.
But in front of him lay a small box, glowing faintly gold.
Loot.
He crawled over, opened it with trembling fingers.
[Item Acquired: Chain-Wrapped Knuckleblades (Tier D)]
– Damage: 12–18
– Effect: +5% critical chance
– Passive: Rage Memory – Boosts attack speed after each kill.
Max grinned despite the pain. "Now that's more like it."
He slipped the knuckleblades on. They were heavy. Powerful. Real.
And they were his.
[New Mutation Count: 2]
[Skill Loadout Updated]
– Panic Reflex Lv.1
– Death Taught Me (Passive)
– Tenacity Lv.1
– Rage Memory (Item Passive)
He stood.
Still sore.
Still bleeding.
But more dangerous than before.
And beneath all the pain…
A spark.
Hope.
Maybe death wasn't the end here.
Maybe, just maybe… it was the beginning of something bigger.
Max looked at his fists.
Then into the dungeon ahead.
"Bring it on."
(To be continued ....)