The bow felt like an extension of her body—familiar, smooth, and solid in her grip. The worn leather of the handle moulded to her fingers, the tension of the string humming with restrained potential. Calm radiated from her in waves, not the calm of inaction, but the deadly stillness of a coiled predator.
This felt natural. Instinctual. The System had simply enhanced what she already knew, making her breath steadier, her aim surer, her focus razor-sharp. She had hunted long before the system had dragged her here, back when the only system she needed was her own practiced discipline. But now? Now the world finally felt like it understood her. Gave her tools that fit.
Few had ever seen this side of her. To most, she was just a pretty face, a nice body—nothing more. They looked at her like prey. She almost pitied their ignorance. She wasn’t prey. She was the predator.
Her gaze locked on her target—a rabbit the size of a large dog, crouched beneath the underbrush, its mottled grey-brown fur blending almost perfectly with the patchy earth and leaf litter. Its ears twitched, long and upright, alert to even the faintest shift in wind. Muscles coiled beneath its thick hide, legs taut and ready to spring. But it hadn’t seen her. Not yet. The creature was still but not relaxed—an edge of tension in its posture, the kind only prey understood. One wrong breath, one errant step, and it would vanish like smoke into the thickets. But she wasn’t going to give it the chance.
[Common Hophare – Level 2 – Rank: F]
She exhaled softly and released—the arrow glided from the string with a whisper, slicing through the still air. It flew straight and sure, a seamless extension of her intent, striking the rabbit cleanly through the eye. The creature didn’t even twitch. It dropped silently, death arriving before recognition could bloom.
You have slain [Common Hophare – Level 2 – Rank: F], bonus Exp for slaying a foe of a higher level.
She gazed down at the hare, the arrow protruding cleanly from its eye. Her breath caught, and her mind slipped back—back to that clearing, to the moment everything went still.
Why had she stayed to watch? She’d crouched in the shadows at the clearing’s edge, every instinct screaming to leave. She had warned them. Told them to move. But they hadn’t listened. They stood too long in the open, blind to the threat that loomed.
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Laura's knife slid smoothly into the hare’s belly, parting it with practiced ease. In a few swift motions, she peeled the pelt away in one clean piece. They weren’t all that different from the rabbits back home, just bigger.
Why hadn’t she shot the bear? She could have helped. The healer had gotten too close—if she’d stayed with them, she might have warned them. It had been obvious the beast wasn’t dead.
But when the beast rose—when it killed that man—she hadn’t frozen. She’d done something worse: she ran. She abandoned them to their fate. Now, as she stared at her blood-soaked hands, she couldn’t shake the thought that their deaths were etched into her skin, a guilt that wouldn't wash away.
She didn’t need to see the aftermath to know—they were gone. There hadn’t been screams. Just silence, heavy and absolute. The kind of silence that only comes after the dying stops.
Her hands had moved on instinct. The pelt was stretched neatly across the forest floor, while precise strips of meat lay atop it in tidy rows. Even the bones and innards had been sorted with care. Nothing would go to waste. She already had a skill that let her craft arrows from bones—a valuable tool in this world. As for the innards? They’d make good bait, assuming the fish here behaved like the ones back home.
But something else came from it too—something that pulled her thoughts, however briefly, away from the clearing.
Profession Unlocked: [Leatherworker – Beginner-Level 1]
You have shown discipline, efficiency, and respect for the hunt. More than a scavenger, the System recognizes you as a Leatherworker—one who transforms what others discard into tools of survival. Every pelt, every bone, every sinew has value in your hands. You do not waste. You craft. And now, the System crafts with you.
Level-Up Bonus:
Strength: +3, Agility: +3, Vitality: +1, Endurance: +1, Perception: +3, +2 Free Stat Points
Updated Attributes:
- Strength: 13 → 16 (+3)
- Agility: 19 → 22 (+3)
- Intellect: 9 → 9 (+0)
- Wisdom: 10 →10 (+0)
- Vitality: 11 → 12 (+1)
- Endurance: 9 → 10 (+1)
- Toughness: 8 → 8 (+0)
- Perception: 15 → 18 (+3)
Skills Acquired
Skinning (Inferior): Basic harvesting technique allowing efficient removal of hide, fur, and bones from Beast-class creatures. Slightly increases material yield and quality, scaling with Perception. Reduced chance of damaging valuable components during extraction.
Treat Hide (Inferior): Infuse raw hides with mana to cure and condition leather, preserving its flexibility and strength. Treated hides gain increased durability and become viable for crafting. Effectiveness scales with Perception.
Basic Leathercraft (Common): Enables the creation of simple gear using leather, bone, and other organic materials. Crafting speed and item quality scale with Agility and Perception. Can produce light armour, utility pouches, and basic ranged components. Crafting rarity capped at Common.
She lifted her head to the sky and let out a slow, steady breath. She didn’t owe anyone anything. That group had been reckless—fools, really. Survival wasn’t a group project, not for her. This profession? Just another tool, another edge in a world that rewarded those who didn’t hesitate.
She rolled her shoulders, wiping blood from her hands onto her tunic. The forest was silent again. It hadn’t judged her. Neither would she.
Without a word, she slipped back into the forest—silent, deliberate, and gone like she was never there.
“Another one?” the blue god murmured, pen pausing mid-stroke. “Too quick…”
He resumed writing, faster now. The data didn’t add up. Not yet.
But it would. It always did.