---
Berserker's Will - Gain a massive strength boost when health drops below 30%. Enter an unstoppable rage state for 10 seconds.
Iron Hide - Reduces all incoming physical damage by 20%. Scales with Strength.
Impact Frenzy - Each heavy hit builds up Frenzy. At 5 stacks, your next attack deals double damage and knocks enemies back.
Blood Feast - Small chance to recover HP with each kill. Increases with strength and consecutive eliminations.
---
Ethan's eyes darted across the floating options like he was picking weapons in an arcade brawler.
"Ooooh, rage mode? Sick. Double knockback? Tempting. Blood sucking death machine? Metal as hell…"
But then his gaze locked on the blue icon—Iron Hide—and something about it clicked.
"Wait, wait, wait… 20% less damage on everything?" he muttered, a wicked grin creeping up. "And it scales with my already disgustingly broken strength stat?"
He slapped his palm against the floating panel with no hesitation.
"Hell yeah! Gimme that Iron Hide, baby! I'm gonna walk through hits like they're mosquito bites."
> "Trait 'Iron Hide' selected. Defensive scaling linked to current Strength level. Enhanced resistance activated."
A faint metallic shimmer rippled across Ethan's skin for a second—like invisible armor locking into place.
He flexed again, admiring himself.
"Hah! Now I don't just hit hard—I laugh while getting hit. Come at me, world! Your punches are invalid!"
He swung his cleaver-axe in a full circle, letting out a bellowing laugh that echoed into the void.
Even SGPT100 seemed to pause for a second before speaking again:
> "Trait confirmed. Class and stats optimized. Beginning combat calibration…"
As Ethan finished screaming his battle cry into the void, ready to unleash havoc, the glowing interface pulsed once more—then faded.
> "Combat Trial Initialization — Beginning Environmental Sync…"
The white room—cold, sterile, endless—suddenly cracked.
A fissure of light split the sky above.
Then, reality shattered.
Like broken glass falling away, the void peeled back, piece by piece, revealing an entirely different world beneath. The colorless blankness was replaced by rich, overwhelming life.
Emerald vines curled around shattered concrete ruins. Towering trees burst through the skeletons of once-modern skyscrapers. Wildflowers painted the ground in splashes of color. The air shimmered with golden dust, the sunlight breaking through a jungle canopy that stretched forever. The distant sound of a river. Birds. Wind.
And the scent—fresh earth, wildflowers, damp moss, a hint of ancient air that hadn't been touched by pollution or people for generations.
It was… beautiful.
Ethan stood dumbstruck.
"What the…?"
He turned in a slow circle, axe lowering, eyes wide. His voice dropped—not from fear, but from pure, open wonder.
"...Yo. This place is gorgeous."
It wasn't just wild—it felt nostalgic. Like the kind of world his ancestors might've lived in. A version of Earth untouched by concrete and smoke, still young and raw. Something about it hit deep in his chest.
"For a world that's supposed to be post-apocalyptic," he murmured, "this feels like heaven before it got screwed up."
His fingers brushed the bark of a massive tree, alive with moss and glowing mushrooms. The bark was warm. Breathing.
SGPT100's voice returned, crisp and mechanical in contrast to the living world around him.
> "Welcome to World No.34 — Trial Environment Synchronized."
> "World Description: Post-Apocalyptic Earth — Reset to primordial conditions. Mutated fauna. Scattered ruins. Civilization remnants remain."
Then the atmosphere shifted.
A sudden ripple passed through the ground, and from the shadows of a broken stone arch, the Mutated Ravager emerged
> "Trial 01: Begin."
Ethan blinked once.
"…Aaaand there it is," he muttered.
He raised his axe, grinning like he never stopped.
"Ohhh yeah. Look at you, ugly as sin. You're the tutorial boss? I hope you brought backup."
The beast stepped into view—a hulking Mutated Ravager, its grotesque muscles twitching under torn flesh, one arm fused into a jagged bone blade. Its breathing was uneven, primal, hungry.
It let out a guttural roar.
> "Mutated Ravager — Level 5"
The Ravager charged, shaking the platform with its stomps. Ethan didn't flinch. He ran toward it, axe raised high like a madman going home.
Their clash was an explosion of sound—iron and bone, snarling and shouting. The Ravager's first blow smashed into Ethan's chest like a truck—
THWACK!
—but instead of flying back, Ethan barely shifted.
A shimmer of steel-light pulsed over his skin.
> [Iron Hide: Damage reduced by 20%]
Ethan blinked.
"…Huh. That should've hurt more. Neat!"
He countered with a brutal arc of his cleaver—CRACK!—burying it into the beast's shoulder. Blood splattered across the mossy floor. The Ravager shrieked.
"Yeah! You like that?! This is what happens when you mess with Mother Nature's favorite chaos gremlin!"
The monster swung again—Ethan dodged, but not far. He wanted to feel the hits.
The monster struck again—again and again—but each hit just bounced off his armor-backed muscles. Ethan kept charging forward, laughing like a man possessed.
> [HP: 83%] [Iron Hide: Reducing 20% incoming damage]
He laughed wildly, exchanging blow after blow, more beast than man. Trees shook. Stone cracked. The jungle echoed with chaos.
"Come on! Is this it? I've taken worse from Dianna when I drank her last soda!"
With a furious shout, Ethan leapt into the air, both hands gripping his cleaver-axe. He came down like a meteor.
CRACK!!
The platform shook. The Ravager collapsed, stunned and half-sunk into the broken stone.
Ethan landed beside it, panting, grinning, wild-eyed.
"You know what? I could get used to this."
He raised the cleaver one last time, then swung with a roar—
SHLUNK.
The Ravager's body went limp, dissolving into flickering light.
> "Trial complete."
"Combat performance: Unorthodox. Brutal. Effective."
"Combat Rank: C+"
Ethan wiped sweat from his brow, beaming like a lunatic.
"C+? That's it?! You stingy system. I decked that thing into next Tuesday."
SGPT100 replied, as emotionless as ever.
> "Higher ranks require finesse, strategic evasion, and multi-target awareness."
Ethan blinked. "Finesse? Buddy, I'm wearing a truck axle as a sword. I am the strategy."
He rested the cleaver on his shoulder, looking out over the beautiful jungle ruin.
"…Y'know what? I like this world already."