Drop Skills to Eat Skills

'Huh? Why the hell is that skill here?'

I forgot I was even running, staring blankly at the Legendary skill that had suddenly claimed the top spot in my skill window.

"Kraaaang!"

"Eek!"

The werewolves' howls from behind snapped me back to reality, and I bolted forward again.

'Why the fuck did that come to me? No way...'

Did killing that thing give me the skill? Or was there some other reason?

Whatever. This bastard looked badass enough, so why the hell was it dying so fast? Like a damn flatfish or something.

"Kieek!"

Spears flew at me with the goblin elite guards' shrieks.

Thwang.

I gritted my teeth as a spear embedded itself right next to me, the shaft vibrating wildly. I veered right.

The reckless maneuver strained my ankle, sending needle-like pain stabbing through it.

'Shit, at this rate, I won't even die of old age.'

Using high-rank skills back-to-back as a low-rank scrub was taking its toll. It was like slapping a supercar engine into a shitty compact—looked cool, but the frame and parts couldn't handle the power.

My body was creaking from all sides, like it might shatter any second.

'Just hold ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠on a bit longer. Come on!'

I fine-tuned my mana flow, struggling to keep my balance.

'Left!'

My heightened focus let me sense the incoming spear without even looking. I twisted away instantly.

Thwip-thwip-thwip.

Spears slammed into the ground exactly where I'd been headed.

'Fuck!'

My instincts were spot on. If I'd kept straight, I'd be a human kebab.

The goblins on werewolves were closing in, and Berserker's Roar was ticking down. Plus, High-Speed Movement wasn't infinite.

Thanks to my S-rank Mana Control, I was using it efficiently enough to last this long. Otherwise, I'd have mana-exhausted and passed out ages ago.

'Think, Min-ho. Think!'

Information Viewing was useless right now. Leaping Strike could bail me out in a pinch, but its range sucked. Better to save mana and just keep sprinting.

'Stealth won't work mid-sprint. Just pop Berserker?'

That was a last resort. Once it wore off, I'd be a sitting duck. At this distance, I'd go berserk solo and get swarmed by endless goblin reinforcements anyway.

Then my eyes landed on the new Legendary skill.

'What kind of shitty name is that?'

I hated it already. Roulette? Like spinning a wheel with options and picking one? Not Russian roulette, hopefully.

Even "God's Roulette" sounded iffy, but slapping "Capricious" on front made it straight-up suspicious.

Thwang!

Another spear grazed my right foot.

'Fuck it. How bad could it be compared to dying?'

I scowled and activated it.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

'What?'

Consume a skill? Like using one as a coin to spin?

The system, of course, offered zero explanation and stayed silent.

'What the actual fuck? Is this some gacha game?'

Not random boxes—actually burning skills for a spin? I'd have to test it.

I spat curses mid-sprint and veered again.

Thwip-thwip-thwip.

Spears whistled past, now less than a meter away. One more second, and I'd be skewered.

At least let me see what's on that damn wheel first.

Grousing inwardly, my eyes flicked to my lowest: D-rank Powerful Strike, recently buffed to +30% effect. A favorite.

'Fuck! If I get something weird...'

I squeezed my ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠eyes shut and selected Powerful Strike (D).

'Huh?'

Sacrificed a D-rank, got a C-rank jackpot.

'No fucking way?'

Capricious God? More like the nicest deity ever.

I sensed the incoming spear's edge and triggered the new skill.

'Leap!'

Thoom!

My body rocketed forward. Unlike B-rank Leaping Strike, this C-rank Leap just hurled me like a long jumper—no mid-air mana charge needed.

'Oh shit, this rules!'

And mana cost was low. Meant I could chain it in emergencies.

'Thanks a ton, Capricious God! Praise be! Loyalty forever!'

I thanked the invisible god inwardly and leaped again.

Thoom.

Three more leaps, and I'd looped wide around the battlefield, heading back to our lines.

"Kieeeek!"

"Kiek! Kieek! Kiek!"

"Kierek? Kiek!"

The goblin elites, pissed at my dodging, chattered furiously and split into three groups.

'Not letting me go, huh?'

One left, one right. The big one on the largest werewolf drove center, herding me sideways.

'Damn, can't leap now.'

Too boxed in—no room. It wasn't blink-tier teleport; predictable arc ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠if they watched.

Chaining skills had mana dipping low. My mana tree "trunk"—the circulation channels—ached dully.

'Tch, so close.'

Our lines were in sight. I clicked my tongue.

These goblin fucks weren't total idiots.

'One more spin?'

I eyed my status window.

Gulp.

'Leap's nice, but sacrificing Leaping Strike hurts...'

System chime in my head. I selected B-rank Leaping Strike.

"Three? Are you fucking kidding me?!"

I bellowed like a scammer was hiding behind the window.

D-rank took one spin. Why three for B?

Trying the new C-rank Leap:

'D-ranks one, everything else three? Classic bait-and-switch.'

Tempt with low-rank tastes, then suck up high-ranks. Scam skill?

I shook off hesitation, scanning my skills. Legendary couldn't be total rip-off.

Sure, burn three low-ranks for at least one higher. Fair game, right?

"Krrrar!"

"Kieeeek!"

"Kiek! Kieek!"

Chase shouts right behind. Eyes shut, no choice.

Die now or die trying. Same shit.

'Fuck hoarding—they're trash anyway! Eat 'em all!'

'Fuuuuck!'

I clawed my hair, screaming internally while sprinting like mad.

A-rank, one tier up as hoped—but goddamn Advanced Healing. Useless now.

'Advanced Healing? What the fuck use is that?! You capricious asshole god!'

Any other time, jackpot. Not mid-chase. Not turning zombie-regen tank either.

Worse: losing High-Speed Movement tanked my speed visibly.

"Krrrar!"

Werewolf growl right on my ass. Wolf breath stench hit like a truck.

'Eek!'

Chills raced my spine; neck hairs stood like electrocuted.

Two options: Berserk, flail till goblin swarm kills me. Or burn three A-ranks—including new one—for big gamble.

Both deadly, but first certain death; second slim survival shot.

'Life's one death; what's a second?'

Still two deaths, but whatever. Burned the A-ranks.

The acquisition chime hit as goblin spears converged.

I triggered the new one in panic.

'Lightning Bolt!'

Crackle!

Spears from three sides vaporized—tips, shafts, gone.

Hiss...

Steam billowed. Sparks danced.

Wind cleared the fog, revealing a man. Hair spiked skyward, white lightning coiling like a cloak.

He checked himself, grinned—teeth flashing mini-bolts.

"Wanna feel the zap too? Huh?"

Werewolf and goblins flinched, staggering back.

The tide had turned.