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

The jungle was different at night.

Darker.

Colder.

And filled with whispers—the sounds of unseen creatures moving just beyond my vision.

I gripped the bone dagger tightly, its rough handle pressing against my palm.

Somewhere in the darkness, my prey was waiting.

And I wasn't sure if I was the hunter… or the hunted.

Into the Unknown

Shira had left me alone.

No instructions.

No hints.

Just a simple command:

"Find it. Kill it. Survive."

I moved carefully, every step measured.

The jungle was alive with movement—rustling leaves, distant growls, the fluttering of unseen wings.

But I wasn't searching for just any creature.

I was searching for the one.

The beast that had scarred the tree.

The one that would determine if I lived to see the morning.

Then, I saw it.

The tracks.

Deep. Heavy. Almost feline, but larger than any panther I had ever seen.

The marks dug into the soft earth, leading deeper into the jungle.

My pulse quickened.

This was it.

I crouched, touching the tracks.

Still fresh.

It was close.

Very close.

And then—

I heard it.

A low, rumbling growl.

Right behind me.

A Predator Revealed

I froze.

The air felt thick, as if the jungle itself was holding its breath.

Slowly, I turned my head.

And there it was.

A beast of shadow and fangs.

It was unlike anything I had ever seen—

A monstrous feline, its fur blending perfectly into the darkness, its eyes glowing a hungry gold.

Massive paws. Clawed limbs. Muscles coiled tight like springs, ready to pounce.

It had been stalking me.

Waiting.

Testing.

Just like the villagers had.

Just like Shira had.

The difference?

This test had no second chances.

It lunged.

The Dance of Death

I rolled to the side just as its claws slashed through the air.

SHRRIP!

The tree beside me exploded in a shower of bark.

Too fast. Too strong.

I had no armor. No sword.

Just a dagger—and my instincts.

The beast turned, eyes locked onto me again.

It crouched, preparing for the next strike.

My heart pounded.

I couldn't outrun it.

I couldn't overpower it.

So I had to outthink it.

The jungle was its home.

But it could be my weapon.

I took a step back—then bolted.

Not to run.

To lead.

I sprinted toward the denser part of the jungle, where the trees grew tighter, the branches lower.

A place where speed meant nothing.

And the beast—

Followed.