As he overlooked the city reclaimed by nature, Brock dangled his legs past the edge of the rooftop, admiring the way the rising sun cast glitters and glows upon the leaves. Each push of the breeze created a tapestry of shifting light as the canopies shuddered. The beauty of the sight almost made his hand let go of the revealed piece of rebar he was grasping onto.

If possible, he’d rather avoid experiencing the rare event of falling off a five-story building a third time. Yeah, it wasn’t fun the last two times. Probably won’t be any better on the third…

Brock had awoken a few hours ago to darkness and chilled air. Initially, he’d been confused, having been used to waking up to the light of dawn, however, he quickly realised that his enhanced body might have needed less sleep to function despite needing more food to eat.

Most probably, it was some sort of trade-off. Makes sense I guess?

With nothing better to do than survey the new world he found himself thrust into, Brock had climbed up to the rooftop a short while after he’d rubbed the sleep from his eyes. It was a bit of a difficult affair to creep around the gaping hole left in the wake of the Alpha, but he had been intent on gazing out over the moonlit land in peace.

And he had continued to do so for the few hours since he had roused to wakefulness.

Occasionally, he’d hear the echoing calls of beasts in the distance, although it was never anything too close to him. It made him wonder if monsters were territorial, among other things. He had managed to distinguish a variety of howls in several directions, along with another odd, gurgling call he struggled to recognise.

Considering the state to which the wolves he’d seen were decidedly not wolves, he wouldn’t discount it being due to the creature in question having been mutated into an entirely different species. One different than what had been found on Earth previously.

No matter the case, he desperately hoped he didn’t have to find out for certain.

In other news, now that Brock sat up there and got a good look over the city, he noticed that the jungle seemed to become even more untamed as it stretched further onward. His little area appeared to be one of the most well-kept locations, with only thin vines and smaller trees weaving through the streets.

Further on, Brock saw that entire buildings had been consumed by the growth of trees, the concrete remains poking out from within gigantic trunks. Although, they were really far back, and some of the more severe cases.

He glimpsed upon the canopies dotting the horizon, and his eyes squinted. It was a slight gradient, but Brock swore he managed to catch sight of the trees slowly changing colours from green to something or other, though it was far enough away that it was impossible for him to be certain.

Aside from that little tidbit, Brock had idly been hoping that the darkness of night would allow him to pinpoint the Source more easily, in the case it was the green, glowing area that Brock had dismissed it being. To his disappointment, however, his eyes had gleaned nothing but the treetops illuminated in shimmering argent moonlight.

The night had passed by quickly, and now Brock was shielding his eyes from the horizon as the sun began to rise higher overhead, scaring away the darkness that plagued the city and replacing it with a radiant shade of orange. Sighing to himself, he eventually retreated back into the firm as the sun peaked higher in the sky.

No luck there… damn…

It was with a heavy heart that he once again donned his messenger’s bag and skipped downstairs, before entering the lobby and promptly leaving the building. Soothing a grumbling stomach, he trekked his way to the local Subway, eager for breakfast.

All the while, he kept his eyes and ears peeled for any sign of monsters, whether past or present, and after several tension-filled minutes, he finally arrived. The ringing of a bell accompanied him as he entered. Now, let’s see what’s on the menu today…

As he left ten minutes later, Brock raided the dwindling supply of cookies and foodstuffs, preparing himself over half a dozen subs and storing them deep away in his bag. Along with several bottles of water, the storage item was filled to the brink. It looked like it was about to burst, and the man feared for the integrity of his subs, but he would at least have enough to use for a day or two if he rationed.

He tried his best to brush off the flaking dried blood that was stubbornly clinging to the torn remains of his suit as he turned off into a side street. Instead of following the main road to the boundary like last time, he hiked deeper into the heart of the concrete jungle. He had a quest, and he aimed to complete it.

Brock perused his status menu while he walked, glancing over his improved stats with the same wonder he’d possessed the day before. Surprisingly, each of his stats had actually increased by one point. A quick gander at his title section told him why, and he grumbled.

Login Bonus: Survive your first day under the System. +1 to all stats.

Albeit finding it rather mocking to his situation, it did help Brock realise that his 5% boost from his Leader of the Pack title was retroactive in nature.

He appreciated the slight increase in power greatly, but he still opted to cuss out the asshole who had given it to him, “Wouldn’t even fucking need it if I wasn’t trapped here.”

Eventually, his attention was snatched away by a root that had grown along the road, its mass being a tad bit thicker than his arm. Curious, Brock dismissed his status and knelt down, studying the plant with awe as he had never seen a root so large. He poked and prodded it with his knife, though to his astonishment, he found himself unable to cut into it.

Even with the full might of his increased stats behind the attack, his weapon simply bounced off, the force reverberating painfully up his arm. It was strangely humbling, to be outclassed by a simple tree root.

Seeing as the flora appeared to become more feral as he walked further into the remains of the city, Brock used what he thought was logical, and concluded that the Source would probably be located in the centre of it all. In the place where it would be the most uncontrolled.

He didn’t have anything more to go off than a gut feeling, but Brock had the impression it, in turn, would also be the most dangerous area in the jungle.

It was only half an hour later, when the jungle became thicker upon the city, that he met his first enemy since the other day. Abundant, emerald moss squelched underfoot as he leapt back, and he narrowly avoided one of the thick roots crisscrossing over the road as he landed. The air was richer as he sucked in a breath, the concentration of ‘ambient energy’ certainly far higher than back at the firm.

Reaching clumsily for his weapon and bringing it forward, Brock glowered at the odd creature prowling in his direction. Trying his best to be threatening, he waved the blade back and forth, attempting to dissuade the monster from attacking him.

The beast was a simple thing, albeit a bit out there, being merely a mass of interwoven vines and green, glowing accents of energy that had formed in the vague shape of a human. Its spindly arms were slightly longer than what was usual, and it seemed more inclined to walk on four limbs than two, but it was undoubtedly humanoid.

That was if you discounted the crocodilian snout with dozens of knife-like thorns for teeth, of course.

What the fuck… is that?

As Brock wheeled back, the creature hissed out a faint, wet, gurgling sound, something halfway between what sounded like an effort to both speak and growl simultaneously. Licking his lips, he noticed the accents of energy begin to pulsate slowly, akin to a heartbeat. The beast possessed no clear eyes, yet Brock was far too aware that it was staring right at him.

“…Please just leave me alone…” Brock held the knife out, thrusting lightly to keep it back.

The dangerous vegetable seemed to have no understanding of what he had just said beyond the intent behind it, and it quickly redoubled the pace at which it prowled toward him as Brock stumbled backwards, sensing the fear rife within his voice.

Preparing himself for the fight that was all but inevitable, Brock glanced at the words that flickered to life above the creature’s head.

[F] Lesser Treant (LVL 6)

The level was triple that of the first Pontiac he’d fought. He gulped. For a moment, Brock considered his chances of sprinting away and escaping, unsure if he was yet powerful enough to kill the monster in front of him, even with his boosted stats.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t given any time to decide as curved thorns grew from the Treant’s fingertips and toes, and it began lumbering forward in earnest. Its reptilian snout snapped open and closed soundlessly, greedily anticipating the flavours of the prey standing before it.

“Ohhhh shit.”

Feeling his stress mounting, although noticing that the beast moved slower had he had expected to, Brock dived to the side. He grunted as he flew further than he ever had before, and crashed into the asphalt. Dizzied and aching from the landing, he forced himself back to his feet and regained his bearings.

He tightened his grip on his knife. Still not used to my new stats. Guess it’s time to test them out, huh?

While he may have appeared as a level 1 on paper, Brock had a sneaking suspicion that his current stats far exceeded that of this level 6 beast. And that alone instilled him with enough confidence to fight back.

Breathing out, he resumed a clumsy stance, waiting for the Treant to come to him. Soon, it did, and he was forced to frantically step out of the way of a clawed strike, lest its floral talons carve into his chest. He hissed as his back foot pressed upon the ground, and he lunged forward, countering with an attack of his own.

His knife pierced into its chest, and much to his relief, it sunk past its vine ‘flesh’ and embedded itself up to the handle. Luminous, emerald blood spurted out, “Yeah. How ‘bout that hu- oh fuck.”

Distracted by his momentary success, Brock barely managed to dodge the follow-up swing in time, scoring himself a painful collection of gashes across his chest. They were all less than a centimetre deep from what he could tell, but they still hurt like a motherfucker.

“Shit!” Protectively, Brock cradled the dribbling wounds with his free hand and leapt back to create some distance between him and his opponent.

Gritting his teeth and taking the time to breathe, Brock eyed the beast for any sort of weakness to exploit. There was nothing from what he could see. The wound he inflicted earlier was still dripping blood, but it didn’t hinder the beast in any way. Damn…

He glanced down at his own wound. It had already ceased bleeding, for the most part, having scabbed over, although not before coating his hands and chest in a small smear of red. Idly, Brock noted that it was a brighter shade than usual.

As the creature crept forward, eager to pounce, Brock looked around, surveying the land for any other beasts lying in wait. Fortunately, there seemed to be none. For a brief moment, his eyes caught on the doorway to a nearby building, but he quickly quenched any thoughts of escape.

While it might have seemed insane to fight the creature, Brock knew that his short-term survival sacrificed that of the long term in this case.

If he had experienced no growth by the time he got deeper into the forest, where even stronger beasts could be residing, the chances were that he’d get torn to bits. The wound the Treant had inflicted hurt, but it was nowhere near life-threatening. At this point, he doubted the creature could kill him unless the fight went on for a prolonged period or he let it.

Or it gets a lucky strike on my neck. Suddenly, Brock became far more protective of the arteries around his throat.

Seeing as the creature was already rearing up to charge at him, Brock decidedly took the initiative and dashed into the melee. He stopped himself abruptly, only a meter or so from the monster, and baited its swing. Then, growling, he spun around and struck out, a clumsy, albeit powerful swing shaving off a considerable chunk of its offending arm.

I… I got this.

The knife almost flew from his hands due to the awkward angle the blade impacted, but it did its job admirably, nonetheless.

He retreated back a few steps and returned to his prior stance as he glanced at the lifeblood coating his blade. Hissing, his eyes flew back to the battle and he rolled out of the way as the Treant took advantage of their close proximity and lunged forward. Its maws snapped down over where he’d been resting prior.

Brock scrambled back and stood, panting and feeling his stress climb once again. That bite… would have torn his arm off if he had gotten caught, “That… was fucking close.”

The man wasted no time recovering from the near-miss and readied himself. His knife hung before him, eager to taste flesh. Turning as it landed, the Treant wheeled around and skimmed across the ground much like the creature its face so accurately copied.

This time, it aimed low and for his ankles, and Brock jumped back, avoiding the attack with room to spare. His foot tapped down on a root, and he felt the muscles of his ankle strain, but he managed to keep himself upright and uninjured. My ankle… should have broken there.

Stats appeared to have a far more drastic effect than he had thought them to have.

His eyes focused sharply as he reined his mind back in and surveyed the beast’s short window of reorientation like a vulture. Now was the time to strike. Growling like a beast, he grabbed the base of the blade with his other hand and lunged forward, his knife streaking down and aiming to carve through the creature’s forehead. To end the fight.

His plans were discarded in seconds, however, as his body began to flicker in its signature mix of red and black. His entire body.

Are you serious right now…?

Gravity took hold of his attack, and he phased through the creature, sinking deep into the ground. The man deadpanned as he watched dirt and stone pass him by on his journey through the Earth’s crust. Strangely enough, the knife came along with him, as did his clothes. So it affects anything I’m touching before it happens?

He descended for a while longer, before finally, as his flickering began to settle and calm, he began exploding upward with speed. Brock didn’t even get to see the beast as his back smacked up into its exposed belly and sent it arcing up through the air.

Gasping from the impact, his back consumed by a dull ache, Brock looked up from his prone position as the Treant crashed into the asphalt and rolled. It righted itself, although appeared to be greatly disorientated. Refusing to let the opportunity slip away, he forced himself up and charged at the beast. His improved muscles allowed him to cover the distance in moments.

Not wasting any time lest the Treant recovered and continued its deadly assault, Brock lunged over the remaining space and desperately mounted the back of the beast. His legs straddled either side of its wide torso, and he grasped his knife so tightly his knuckles became white as he drove the blade downward.

His attack was rewarded by a spurt of glowing green fluid. Then the beast devolved into a raging fit.

Snarling with fury, the monster squirmed beneath him, clawing at the moss-laden road ineffectually and attempting to reach its head around and bite at its attacker. I… didn’t think this through…

Unsure of what his next step was, Brock did the first thing that came to mind and yanked the knife out from its flesh. Then he brought it down once more. Another dose of emerald sap sprayed from the wound.

“Gagh!”

Focused wholly on ending the beast, Brock was caught unaware and hissed in agony as the creature’s back leg reached up and gored the flesh of his ankle.

Growling so deeply his throat was becoming hoarse, he pulled his legs in tighter to himself and swung the knife down for a third and final time. The tip penetrated past the woven vines and cut the Treant’s raging throes short. It twitched and shuddered underneath him, incandescent blood dribbling freely from its forehead.

The accents of energy along its body slowly began to dim.

“Bloody… hell…” Brock hissed in between pants.

Heaving out a sigh of relief, the man was left stunned as he felt a boundless surge of energy invade his body and flood throughout the pathways that had been carved out within him. Every single cell felt empowered as they were shocked to wakefulness by the dormant power contained within.

Huh?

Although, Brock quickly began to frown as he watched the energy begin to dissipate and leave his body in thin wisps of crimson power. It seemed like it had… nowhere to go?

Concern clouded his features as the office worker closed his eyes and attempted to look inward at the magical processes occurring. He flinched in surprise as he actually managed to see the complete flow of energy laid out before him, along with a vague representation of his body and a display of his paths within.

Like river rapids, furious streams of emerald energy exploded through his pathways. While it was a sluggish transformation, Brock noticed the energy become tainted with red as it travelled along, before finally leading into the dense network of paths in his chest. A still heart of dull red energy was nestled in the centre of it all, beating weakly.

To Brock, it seemed like it was trying to… reach out with the dim glow that surrounded and pluck the energy from the paths winding around it, yet it failed miserably every time.

With nothing to collect it as it passed through, he witnessed the energy re-enter the body-wide network of paths and zoom around with a drastically lessened momentum than it had possessed originally. Eventually, as the streams of the power slowed to a stop, they appeared to break down and pass through his flesh using the pores in his skin.

“Why…?”

Trapped in utter incomprehension, Brock willed opened his status with a thought and glared at a single line present on the screen. His expression fell to a grimace as an unchanged numerical value glared right back at him. It was just as he feared.

He was still at level 1.