The internal "map" provided by the System didn't show the geography of the woods, but it did show the miasma. Carl followed the trail of purple haze until the trees thinned, revealing a jagged scar in the side of a limestone cliff. This wasn't a magical portal or a rift; it was a cave, ancient and dark, but the air bleeding from its mouth felt wrong—it tasted like ozone and rotted sulfur.
[Location Discovered: Dark Dungeon - The Weeping Vein]
[Status: Infested]
"A cave. Right. Back to basics," Carl muttered. He checked the magazine of the Vesper. Seven rounds of holy-infused silver left. He gripped the jagged bone-sword, its hilt warm against his palm, and stepped into the gloom.
The cave was a nightmare of biology and geology. Obsidian-like spikes grew from the ceiling, dripping a viscous, glowing fluid. As he descended, the scratching sounds started. Lesser Hells—scrawny, hooded shadows with rusted blades—emerged from the stalactites.
Carl didn't hesitate. His movements were becoming rhythmic, a byproduct of the Internalization he'd purchased. He fired a shot to stagger the lead shadow, then dived forward, trailing the bone-sword in a low arc that severed ankles.
[Style Rank: C - Casual]
He finished them with a flourish, watching the Red Orbs stream into his chest. As the demons dissolved, Carl noticed something different. Not all of them disappeared completely. One of the shadows left behind a curved, jagged horn that pulsed with a faint violet light.
He picked it up. It was heavy, cold, and hummed with a vibration that set his teeth on edge.
[Item: Low-Tier Demonic Shard (Material)]
[Value: Crafting/Upgrade Component]
"So they don't always vanish," Carl realized. "If it's dense enough, the physical shell stays."
He tried to stuff the horn into his tactical vest, but it was too bulky. He needed a way to carry this loot if he was going to turn this "second life" into a career.
As if the universe heard his greed, a strange, jingling sound echoed from the deeper tunnels. Clink. Clink. Scrap.
Rounding a corner, Carl found the source. It was a Hoarder Demon—a bloated, multi-limbed creature that looked like a cross between a spider and a treasure chest. It had no eyes, only a massive, gaping maw filled with glowing ores and stolen demonic bones. It was scurrying toward a deeper crevice, dragging a heavy sack of "loot" that shouldn't have fit through the narrow passage.
[Rare Target: The Gluttonous Greed]
[Note: Kill it before it escapes to the Underworld!]
Carl didn't wait for an opening. He burned his remaining silver rounds into the creature's soft underbelly. The Hoarder shrieked, dropping its sack, and tried to lunge at him with spindly, gold-plated claws.
Carl slid under the strike, his amber eyes tracking the creature's slow turn. He drove the bone-sword upward, straight through the Hoarder's pulsing core. The demon exploded, not into ash, but into a violent burst of golden-red light.
When the light faded, the demon was gone, but it hadn't left behind a mere shard. Resting in the center of the crater was a small, leather-bound pouch decorated with a silver eye that seemed to blink.
[Devil Arm Acquired: Greed]
[Type: Spatial Storage / Utility]
[Description: A manifestation of the Hoarder's soul. This pouch exists in a pocket dimension. It can store an infinite amount of demonic materials, ores, and weapons. Items stored are weightless to the wielder.]
Carl picked up the pouch. It felt like nothing in his hand. He looked at the jagged horn he'd found earlier and touched it to the mouth of the bag. The eye on the pouch blinked, and the horn was sucked inside.
"Spacial storage," Carl breathed, a wide, genuine grin finally breaking his stoic mask. "Now we're talking. This isn't just survival anymore. This is a business."
He looked deeper into the cave. The System pinged, showing higher concentrations of demonic ore and elite signatures further down.
"Orbs for the body, points for the brain, and materials for the forge," Carl said, reloading the Vesper with a fresh magazine. "Let's see how much this cave is worth."
He stepped further into the dark, no longer a lost student, but a hoarder in his own right.
Carl spent the next hour deeper in the tunnels, his boots crunching over obsidian sand. He found a quiet alcove, safely hidden behind a cluster of glowing stalagmites, and sat down. He had 20 System Points now—not much, but enough to understand the world he was currently gutting for profit.
"System," he muttered. "Open Store. Knowledge Category."
[Purchase: 'Compendium of Demonic Essence & Metallurgy' - 20 Points?]
"Confirm."
The headache was sharper this time. It felt like hot lead being poured into his ears, but as the pain receded, Carl's understanding of the jagged blade in his hand and the pouch at his waist transformed. He wasn't just holding "loot" anymore; he was holding Conductors.
Carl leaned his head against the cold stone, processing the new data.
The Law of Conductivity: Demonic materials—horns, bones, and ores—aren't just "tough." they are the only substances capable of perfectly channeling demonic power. This was why human magic failed; it was like trying to run high-voltage electricity through a wooden wire. To kill a demon, you needed a weapon that spoke its language.
The Truth of Devil Arms: The pouch, Greed, was more than a bag. It was the manifestation of a soul. Carl realized with a start why he could handle it so easily—his own hybrid nature acted as a "grounding wire."
The Human Limitation: The knowledge came with a grim warning. If a normal human—like the ones living in the villages outside this cave—tried to wield a true Devil Arm, the weapon would likely drain their life force or possess them. They simply didn't have the "internal battery" to handle the output.
The Red Orb Solution: There was a loophole. If a human killed enough demons and absorbed enough Red Orbs, they could artificially reinforce their soul. They could "buy" their way into being a hunter, but the cost in blood would be astronomical.
"So, I'm the shortcut," Carl whispered, looking at his glowing amber eyes in the reflection of his blade. "I'm born with the hardware they have to spend a lifetime building."