Sato slowly opened his eye.
The effort felt monumental. His eyelid was heavy, crusted with dried blood and frost. Pain throbbed behind it in dull, relentless waves. He blinked once, twice, forcing the world into focus.
The tent.
He was inside a tent again.
The same kind of tent—thick hides stitched together, faint light from a dying fire pit in the center. But this one was different. One side had collapsed inward, the supporting poles snapped like broken bones. The entrance flap hung half-open, letting in thin blades of cold wind and swirling snow.
The fire was barely alive—just a few glowing embers struggling against the draft.
Sato pushed himself up on his right elbow. His body screamed in protest, every muscle stiff and bruised. He sat there for a long moment, breathing shallowly, trying to remember how he got here.
Then he remembered his arm.
His left arm.
He looked down.
It was… there.
Not fully. Not perfectly. But it was growing back.
The stump ended just below the elbow now—flesh and skin had regrown in uneven, raw layers, pink and angry-looking, like scar tissue forced to form too quickly. It wasn't a miracle. It was grotesque. The new limb ended in a rounded nub, no hand, no fingers—just a fleshy, half-formed thing that twitched faintly when he stared at it.
He stared in disbelief.
This… this can't be real.
He reached over with his right hand and pinched the new flesh hard.
Pain flared—sharp, real, unmistakable.
He hissed through his teeth.
It was real.
Then he remembered the eye.
He lifted trembling fingers to his face, brushing
His breath hitched.
Why the arm… but not the eye?
He had lost so much blood. He should have died. He knew he should have died.
But here he was. Alive. In a half-collapsed tent. With a half-grown arm and one eye.
A faint crackle from the dying fire was the only sound.
Then—suddenly—blue light bloomed in front of him.
A translucent panel materialized, hovering in the air like fractured glass, glowing softly in the dim tent.
[You have unread notifications.]
The words hung there, calm and mechanical.
Sato flinched hard.
He scrambled backward on instinct, back slamming into the collapsed hide wall. The sudden movement sent fresh pain shooting through his half-regrown arm. He gasped, clutching it, eyes wide with something between terror and awe.
The panel didn't move. It just waited.
Unblinking.
Unfeeling.
Like everything else in this world.
Sato stared at the glowing blue panel, his mind racing back to something distant and almost forgotten.
He remembered.
Back in school, in the old world, some of the richer kids—the "pretty boys" who always had the latest gadgets—would bring their smartphones to class and play those weird games during breaks. He never joined them; he couldn't afford the phone, and he didn't care. But he'd watched from the back of the room.
Those games had things like this.
Floating screens. Notifications. Levels. Stats.
They called it a "system."
Some kind of game mechanic.
But this… this wasn't a game.
This was real.
And it was happening to him.
Why? How?
Sato's breath hitched. He didn't understand. None of it made sense. Why him? Why now? Why here, in this frozen hell, after everything he'd lost?
He reached out with his trembling right hand and touched the glowing panel.
The moment his fingertip brushed the light, the screen rippled like water.
More notifications cascaded in, one after another, filling his vision in cold, indifferent blue text.
[Congratulations! You have unlocked the System.]
[You have killed your first member of the Northern Mountain Kervon Tribe.]
+300 EXP gained.
Congratulations! You have earned +1 Bonus Stat Point.
[Congratulations! You have defeated the leader of the Northern Mountain Kervon Tribe.]
+1000 EXP gained.
Congratulations! You have earned +3 Bonus Stat Points.
[Congratulations! You have contributed to the complete destruction of the Northern Mountain Kervon Tribe.]
Based on your contribution, rewards have been granted.
Congratulations! You have taken first place.
+3000 EXP gained.
[Congratulations! You have obtained the Asam Sword.]
Asam Sword – Rare Grade
Weapon Description:
Once wielded by the leader of the Kervon Tribe.
+3 Strength
+1 Willpower
The messages kept coming, stacking up like cold facts, refusing to let him process one before the next appeared.
Sato's eye widened.
EXP… Stat Points… Sword?
He looked down at his lap.
There, resting across his knees, was a sword.
It hadn't been there a second ago.
The blade was long and slightly curved, forged from dark metal that seemed to drink in the dim firelight. The hilt was wrapped in worn leather, etched with faint tribal runes. It looked ancient. Deadly. And somehow… alive.
Sato's hand hovered over it, afraid to touch.
Sato stared at the glowing notifications, his mind struggling to keep up. The messages kept coming, one after another, like a flood he couldn't stop.
[Congratulations! You have defeated an enemy 20 levels above you.]
+1000 EXP gained.
[Congratulations! +3 Bonus Stat Points awarded.]
[Congratulations! You have defeated an enemy 30 levels above you.]
+2000 EXP gained.
[Congratulations! +3 Bonus Stat Points awarded.]
[Congratulations! You have defeated an enemy 40 levels above you.]
+3000 EXP gained.
[Congratulations! +3 Bonus Stat Points awarded.]
[Congratulations! You have defeated the White Northern Fazulin Serpent (Level 48).]
+Regeneration Lv.1 (Passive Skill) acquired.
+Cold Resistance Lv.1 (Passive Skill) acquired.
[Congratulations! You have obtained the Fazulin Serpent's Eye (Rare Grade).]
[Congratulations! You have obtained the Fazulin Serpent's Skin (Rare Grade).]
[Congratulations! You have obtained the Fazulin Serpent's Fang (Rare Grade).]
The panel flickered once more, then expanded into a full status window.
[Current Level: Calculating…]
[Experience required per level (adjusted scaling):]
[Total EXP gained from kills and bonuses: 10,300]
[Current Level: 9]
[EXP to next level (Level 10): 1700/ 2200]
[Stat Points Available: 40]
[Skill Points Available: 3]
[Full Status]
Name: Sato
Age: 15
Level: 10
Class: None
Title: First Hunter of Tervezon
HP: 92 / 280 (Recovering)
MP: 0 / 0
Strength: 7
Agility: 4
Endurance: 5
Vitality: 9
Intelligence: 8
Willpower: 10
Luck: ???
Charisma: 4
Mana: 0
[Passive Skills]
Regeneration Lv.1 – Slowly regenerates lost limbs and severe wounds over time (accelerated by rest and warmth).
Cold Resistance Lv.1 – Reduces damage and debuffs from extreme cold environments.
[Equipment]
Asam Sword (Rare) – +3 Strength, +1 Willpower
Fazulin Serpent's Eye (Rare) – [Unidentified – Potential use as material or implant]
Fazulin Serpent's Skin (Rare) – [Unidentified – Potential armor material]
Fazulin Serpent's Fang (Rare) – [Unidentified – Potential weapon upgrade material]
[Condition]
Left Arm: Regenerating (43% complete)
Left Eye: Destroyed (Permanent – No regeneration detected.)
Blood Loss: Stabilized
Sato's single eye widened as he read the numbers.
Everything felt eerily familiar—like those games the rich kids used to play on their phones back in school. The floating panels, the cold blue text, the endless stream of notifications… it was all the same.
Except for one thing.
The title.
His gaze locked onto the new line beneath his name.
[Title: First Hunter of Tervezon]
Sato's breath caught.
He didn't know what "Tervezon" meant. It sounded ancient, foreign, like a name from a forgotten language. But the word carried weight—something heavy and inevitable.
Curiosity, mixed with a strange dread, pulled him forward.
He reached out with his trembling finger and touched the title.
The panel expanded, revealing a detailed description that hovered in glowing script.
[Title: First Hunter of Tervezon]
Description:
The very first being acknowledged by the System as a true Hunter.
In a world where countless souls awaken to power, you were the first to draw blood under its gaze.
This title marks you as the pioneer—the one who stepped into the darkness before anyone else.
It is both a blessing and a curse: the path of the Hunter is solitary, relentless, and unforgiving.
Passive Effects:
While hunting alone: +15% EXP gained from kills.
Chance for Rare or higher-grade items to drop from defeated creatures and chests: +5%.
Sato read it twice.
First Hunter…
The words sank in slowly.
He wasn't just some random boy dragged into this nightmare.
He was the first.
The System itself had recognized him as the very beginning of something larger—something terrifying.
A shiver ran through him that had nothing to do with the cold.
He looked down at the half-regrown arm, the empty eye socket, the blood frozen on his clothes, the sword resting across his knees.