"I love me an afterparty—especially one that promises new skills, double loot, and a free level-up written all over it."
GRAAAH!
The Alpha roared, pawing the ground like a bull ready to charge.
Drake's grin sharpened.
"Let's play, Boss Man."
Two shadows—one man, one beast—tensed for collision. Smoke curled from Drake's pistols, twitching like vipers.
WHOOOM!
Wind swept through the clearing. Leaves rustled. Hair and fur danced in the breeze.
THUD-THUD!
The Alpha lunged.
"Whoa! This puppy's fast—gotta admit, I'm impressed."
Drake dodged as claws slashed past his face—WOOSH!—missing by inches. He flipped back and landed clean, adrenaline surging.
"Okay, this one's not like the others. Speed's off the charts."
The Alpha circled, eyes locked, growling low.
"I know I look goofy, but I didn't think it was that offensive," Drake smirked. "You're hurting my feelings here."
GRAAAH!
The Alpha sprinted, zigzagging unpredictably.
"No no no—bad dog! I can't track this mutt!"
Drake raised his pistols, but the beast vanished—then reappeared mid-leap.
SWOOSH—CRACK!
A paw nearly took his head off. Drake barely backflipped in time—
"Agh!"
—but claws grazed his neck. Blood trickled down.
[SHADOW ARSENAL SYSTEM]
SYSTEM ALERT — CRITICAL DAMAGE RECEIVED
HP: 30 / 100
If hostile contact is not eliminated, host will die.
"Thanks, 10,000 IQ reflexes. Almost became Ghost Rider's headless cousin."
He wiped the blood, wincing.
"You're adorable, you know that?"
He pointed both pistols.
"But now I gotta smack that snout."
GRAAAH!
The Alpha bolted.
"YAAHHH!"
Drake charged, pistols up.
They leapt at the same time.
CRUNCH!
Teeth clamped down on Drake's arm.
"Aah—let go, you oversized mutt!"
DING! DING!
[SHADOW ARSENAL SYSTEM]
SYSTEM ALERT — HP RAPIDLY DECREASING
HP: 20 / 100
Host termination imminent.
"You hear that, furball? You're one bullet away from me uninstalling your whole bloodline!"
Drake jammed the barrel to the Alpha's skull.
"PHANTOM SHOT!"
TAAAH!
A black bullet tore through the air—just as the Alpha vanished in a puff of mist.
"WHAT—!?"
THUD!
Drake hit the dirt.
"Oww, my butt!"
He rubbed it like he'd just been spanked by fate.
Silence.
"Where'd you go, Scooby-Doom?"
He scanned the clearing.
"This pup's smart. Doesn't charge in blindly—he's tactical. And annoyingly durable."
Drake narrowed his eyes.
"This is turning into a chess game with claws."
GRAAAAH!
The Alpha's roar echoed—but the direction was unclear.
"He's waiting for a blind spot… fine, let's give him one."
Drake turned, leaving his left shoulder exposed.
PUFF—ROAR!
Alpha lunged from the shadows.
"Gotcha."
He spun—too slow.
CHOMP!
Teeth locked on his shoulder.
"AGAIN?!"
He hammered the wolf's skull with his pistol.
DING! DING!
[SHADOW ARSENAL SYSTEM]
SYSTEM ALERT — EXTREME HP LOSS
HP: 10 / 100
Death imminent.
"Let go, Fluffy!"
With a roar, Drake pried the jaws open, tearing his own flesh.
"I'm not a chew toy!"
He twisted, flinging the wolf across the field.
CRASH!
It slammed into a tree. Leaves rained down.
Drake gasped for air.
"Did I get it?"
ROOOOOAR!
The Alpha rose—bleeding, limping, seething. Shadows leaked from its eyes like liquid ember.
"This mutt doesn't quit. I'm almost outta HP, stamina's toast, mana's dripping out like a busted soda can…"
Drake leveled his pistols, bloodied but defiant.
"Let's end this."
Shadow energy rippled from his body. The air turned cold.
GRAAAH!
The Alpha clawed the ground—prepping for its final charge.
"I know your skill's on cooldown. You're done."
Drake raised his weapons.
"WEAKNESS PERCEPTION!"
The world slowed. Vitals glowed. Target locked.
"Bring it on."
Final charge. One shot. One kill. One mistake = game over.
The two opponents moved—one a streak of rage, the other a shadowed gunslinger.
[SHADOW ARSENAL SYSTEM]
Class: Shadow Gunslinger [Lvl: 3]
Name: Drake Lorenzo Race: Human
Height: 6'6"
Status:
• Health: 10 / 100
• Mana: 910 / 10,000
• Endurance: 80 / 100
Attributes:
• Strength: 1,000 • Agility: 80
• Intelligence: 10,000 • Speed: 100
• Stamina: 20 • Precision: 100
• Charm: 100 • Adaptability: 100
Abilities:
• Shadow Step – Ready
• Phantom Shots – Ready
• Stealth – 20s Duration
• Eclipse – Cooldown: 30s
• Black Vortex – Cooldown: 10s
• Skill Craft – Ready
New:
• Weakness Perception – Cooldown: 2min
• Parallel – 50s Duration. Cooldown: 50s
THUD THUD THUD
RASH!!
The Alpha bolted—unhinged fury blazing.
Red markers glowed across its body.
"Damn… this Weakness Perception is badass. I can see every pressure point like it's lit up in neon."
RAAAH!
Alpha's roar shattered the silence.
"Okay… I don't know if this'll work, but I've gotta try something risky."
Vital points flared—forehead, front paws, neck. But a straight shot? Too easy to dodge.
Drake planted his foot.
Arms crossed. Pistols aimed at opposite trees.
A primal smirk cut across his face. Shadows curled around his fingers.
"So… let's try a ricochet prediction shot and hope fate likes gambling."
ROOOAR—THUD THUD THUD!
The Alpha charged, frothing like a beast possessed.
Drake's pupils shrank, calculating.
"Now."
"PHANTOM SHOTS!"
TAH—TAH!!
Two bullets spiraled out—ricocheting perfectly.
Alpha didn't notice—eyes locked on Drake.
TIFF TIFF!
Both bullets struck glowing weak points in its front paws.
AARHHH!
THUD—BOUNCE!
Alpha tumbled like a ragdoll down a slope.
"I got you!" Drake grinned.
But it wasn't over.
The body kept bouncing—straight toward him.
"Alright. Let's finish this with style."
Drake exhaled.
Stance widened. Arm cocked back. Palm open.
Shadow energy flared from elbow to fist. Wind howled.
WOOOOOSH!
His voice dropped.
"Shadow Lotus Technique...
Limit Break: Oblivion Strike!"
(Note: Drake made that up. It's just raw shadow mana condensed into a punch.)
Alpha soared—bloodied, broken, but still feral.
Drake launched forward—
THOOOP—CRAAAACK!!
His fist connected. The impact boomed like thunder.
"YAAAH!!"
WHOOOSH—THUD—BOOOM!!
Alpha was launched—smashed through a tree, slammed into the earth.
Dust clouded the air.
"Haa… Haa… did I get him?"
Drake stood, heaving.
Dust settled.
Alpha's eyes rolled back.
Body twitched.
Then stillness.
[Feral Nightfang Alpha – HP: 0 | Mana: 0]
SHHHRRING!!
It glowed—then burst into shimmering data light.
PFFT!
A glowing loot pile appeared.
THUD!
Items clinked to the grass.
DING! DING!
[SHADOW ARSENAL SYSTEM]
Congratulations: Boss Eliminated!
Combat Log:
• 1x Feral Nightfang Alpha — Eliminated
• 2x Critical Hits (Weakness Perception Bonus Applied)
[Loot Acquired:]
• 2x Shadow Fangs
• 2x Wolf Hides
• 2x Raw Beast Meat
Skill Unlocked: Omen Sight
Rare Shadow Technique
Type: Passive/Active Hybrid
Mana Cost: 100 per activation
Duration: 10 seconds
Cooldown: 2 minutes
Effect:
Tap into the shadows of fate and briefly pierce the veil of time.
When activated, gain a 10-second glimpse into the immediate future.
Perfect for dodges, counters, and reaction-based combat.
(Cannot be stacked or used during cooldown.)
LEVEL UP!
Shadow Gunslinger: [Lvl. 5] Achieved
Stats and shadow capacity increased.
Drake's pulse thundered.
"OOOOH YEAH!!"
He leapt in victory—
CRACK!
"AWW! Aww—my shoulder!"
He collapsed back down.
"Maybe… maybe I shouldn't have jumped."
But pain melted under the victory high.
"I just beat a psycho wolf, unlocked a rare skill, and leveled up. The bruises? Totally worth it."
THUD—UGH!
He flopped onto the grass.
"I really pushed myself to the limit… nearly died, but... I did it."
He lay still, watching the drifting clouds. His pistols dissolved into shadow, vanishing into inventory.
"Mom... Dad… Aunt May… hope you're watching. I'm still standing."
Wind whispered through the trees, soft and calm.
"Today... was one for the books."