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

The jungle was still.

The predator had fallen.

And yet, as I stood at the edge of the ravine, catching my breath, I felt no relief.

Only a shift.

Something had changed.

Not just in me.

In everything.

Shira stepped forward, her yellow eyes reflecting the dim moonlight.

She studied me—not with amusement, nor with doubt.

But with recognition.

"You have spilled blood," she said.

I nodded.

The weight of the dagger still felt heavy in my hand, slick with the beast's blood.

"And now," she continued, "you must claim it."

I frowned. "Claim it?"

Shira pointed to the darkness below.

"The beast is dead. But it is not yet yours."

I understood.

She wanted me to go down.

To face the body.

To finish the rite.

A final test.

One last step to prove I was not prey.

But a true hunter.

Descending Into the Unknown

The climb down was slow, careful.

Roots jutted out like skeletal hands, gripping the sides of the ravine.

Each step was unsteady, the earth loose beneath my weight.

And then, at the bottom—

I saw it.

The beast.

Lying still.

Its massive body was sprawled across broken roots and sharp rocks, its dark fur matted with blood.

Its golden eyes—once burning with hunger—were now lifeless.

I approached cautiously, dagger still ready.

Even in death, it was fearsome.

And yet, as I stood over it, something stirred in my chest.

Not fear.

Not relief.

But respect.

This beast had tested me.

Had nearly killed me.

And now, it would become part of me.

The Mark of the Hunt

Shira landed beside me, silent as ever.

She knelt by the beast's head and withdrew a small obsidian knife.

She placed it in my hand.

"Take its blood," she said.

I hesitated.

Not out of fear.

But because I understood—this was more than just a kill.

This was a rite.

A transformation.

Slowly, I pressed the blade to the beast's side and carved a shallow line.

Dark, thick blood seeped from the wound.

Shira dipped two fingers into it.

Then, without a word, she marked my face.

A single line across my cheek.

Warm.

Heavy.

Final.

"You are no longer a stranger to the hunt," she murmured. "You are one of us now."

I exhaled.

The jungle felt different now.

The air sharper. The night deeper.

And deep inside me—

Something had awakened.

A New Path Begins

We climbed back up in silence.

When we returned to the village, the others were waiting.

Some looked at me with new eyes.

Some with approval.

Others with wariness.

Lokan—the warrior I had fought before—nodded slightly.

A warrior's recognition.

But it was the elder who spoke.

He studied the blood on my face. The dagger still clutched in my grip.

Then, he turned to the others.

"It is done."

And just like that—

I was no longer an outsider.

I was one of them.

But as the fire crackled and the village murmured, I realized—

This was only the beginning.

Because now, I had to learn what it truly meant to be a hunter.

And I had a feeling—

The real trials had yet to come.