One piece: Without a system, I have to survive!

The trial was over.

Or so I thought.

The crowd began to disperse, some murmuring in amusement, others still unconvinced.

The warrior I fought—Lokan, as I later learned his name—gave me one last look before walking away, his smirk never fading.

But Shira?

She was still watching me.

Studying me.

Like a predator deciding if its prey was worth chasing.

Then, without a word, she turned and walked toward the jungle.

And I knew—

The real test was just beginning.

A New Trial Begins

I followed her past the bonfire, past the huts, past the watching eyes of the villagers.

The jungle swallowed us again.

Thick leaves. Distant animal cries. The scent of damp earth.

She walked fast, her bare feet silent against the ground.

I struggled to keep up.

"Where are we going?" I finally asked.

She didn't answer.

Not at first.

Then, she finally said:

"You fought well."

I blinked.

A compliment?

Before I could respond, she continued.

"But fighting isn't enough."

She stopped walking.

I nearly bumped into her.

She pointed to a tree—not just any tree, but a massive, ancient one, its trunk covered in deep claw marks.

"The jungle does not care how strong you are," she said. "It only cares if you can hunt… or if you become the hunted."

I swallowed.

The implications were clear.

This wasn't about strength anymore.

This was about survival.

The Hunter's Mark

Shira reached into a pouch on her hip and pulled out a small bone dagger.

She held it out to me.

I took it, feeling its rough texture.

"Tonight," she said, her voice steady, "you will hunt."

I frowned.

"Hunt what?"

She turned, her yellow eyes glowing faintly in the dim light.

"The same beast that left those marks."

A chill ran down my spine.

I looked at the tree again, at the deep, brutal gouges in its bark.

Something big made those.

Something dangerous.

I looked back at her.

She wasn't smiling.

She wasn't joking.

This was real.

This was the next test.

And this time—

I would be hunting alone.