Hysterical Strength
A single moment of misjudgment brings death.
That's what raiding parties aiming for high-rank Hunter status often say when challenging the Tower of Trials.
But in reality, those raiders rarely die from one mistake. Why? Because they play in parties. With sturdy comrades to cover their errors, a slip-up or two doesn't cause much trouble.
But me, forced into solo play? I really do face a life-or-death crisis from one fuck-up.
This is beyond unfair. It's not just solo—it's a one-coin playthrough.
-Red effect crackling
The werewolf's jaws sank deep into my left shoulder, all the way to my chest, shattering my armor like it was nothing. Whether it walks on two legs or not, a werewolf's still a wolf at heart—its fangs way stronger than its claws, obviously.
Crunch. My collarbone and nearby bones shattered with a sickening grind.
"Uh... h-heuk."
How the hell did it come to this? What did I fuck up?
Forgetting I'd thrown my shield and trying to block the werewolf's claws? Thinking it was like the first-floor boss and that I'd win? Misjudging the kobold rider as ignorable? Or not anticipating the werewolf would go berserk that fast?
Yeah, definitely the last one. I should've caught on when my attacks landed better than expected. Who knew a few dagger pokes could deal enough damage to trigger berserk mode?
If I'd tested it conservatively first, gotten a read on it, I wouldn't have fucked up like this.
Or hell, that just means I judged wrong from the start. Rushing to clear the second floor like an idiot got me here.
Fuck, I should've just hunkered down here a few more days, you dumbass.
Grind, crunch! The werewolf's fangs dug deeper. Its insane bite force pulverized bone, blood spurting out.
I never knew the sensation of blood draining from your veins could feel this vivid.
My senses shifted slowly. The pain hitting its limit let me ignore it, focusing elsewhere.
Thump, thump, thump. My heart raced. Feeling its beat so clearly was a first.
The thick realization that death was closing in.
Ah, if I'm dying like this, why'd I bust my ass so hard? Better to rot quietly in my room, shitposting online.
I know that's pathetic, but isn't it better than getting chomped by some dog bastard?
What was I even hoping for? I didn't have the drive from the start.
Mom died, and I thought a lot. Ended up deciding I had to clear this tower.
Why? She's dead anyway. She probably died thinking I'd be trapped here forever.
Even if I clear it late, that won't change.
Locked in my room so long, I'd lost touch with old friends ages ago. No one out there to welcome me now.
So why was I trying to clear the tower?
Oh, right. Become a proper person, light incense at Mom's grave, pour a drink, and apologize.
Dunno if there's an afterlife, but if there is, I sure as hell won't meet her. A worthless filial failure like me? Straight to hell, and even there, I couldn't apologize.
So. I. Can't die here.
"Aaaaaaaaaah!!"
Snap! I grabbed the jaws of the werewolf gnawing my shoulder, roaring. Blood dripped from its upper and lower fangs as I poured every ounce of strength into prying its jaw open.
Its bite strong enough to wreck bone and armor in one go—half-dead, I couldn't match it.
But I can't just die. I have to get out, become a real Hunter, meet Mom.
"Ugh, ah, ah, ah!"
Grind! Ignoring my ragdoll shoulder and screaming body, I kept forcing it. The embedded fangs started pulling free, bit by bit.
Plop, plop. Teeth yanked out, blood gushing from the sockets.
Head spinning, vision darkening. Good. Saves energy for seeing ahead—no need to squeeze out more just to rip this fucker's jaw off.
Passive Skill: Combat Awakening Lv.3 acquired.
Vision blurred, but strength surged into my grip. This hysterical strength before death or whatever?
Passive Skill: Combat Awakening Lv.4 acquired.
Passive Skill: Combat Persistence Lv.5 acquired.
Passive Skill: Indomitable Lv.2 acquired.
No need for principles. Just draw out this surging power from my body.
Felt its bone-crushing fangs pulling away, its maw opening wider.
Sensation returned slowly to my body, darkened vision brightening gradually.
Grrk, grrr...!
Vision cleared, but blood splatter blocked most of it. Through the crimson haze, I barely made out the werewolf's eyes up close.
"Kuh, kahak, kuh, heh, hehheheh...!"
Its pupils trembled. Or maybe my vision did. Probably the former.
What, shocked you didn't win? Thought berserk was your thing only?
Realized it mid-fight with the wolf: the Tower of Trials senses challengers' changes and grants skills.
So no surprise if I got a berserk skill now. Blue windows kept popping up, after all.
[... ... ... acquired... ...]
Blood obscured details, but something was getting acquired. Those effects? My hands pried the werewolf's maw harder.
Grind, crunch!
Forgot the death grip from before. Only joy of growth remained.
Crack, crack! With my strengthening grip, I wrenched its fully opened jaw even wider.
Dopamine from growth pleasure pickled my brain, spitting out mangled words.
"Lo...st... you dog... fuck... er!!"
Passive Skill: All-Out Lv.1 acquired.
Snap! My hands tore the werewolf's jawbone clean off.
Werewolf defeated
Red critical effect burst as the werewolf collapsed. Half its muzzle ripped off, writhing silently on the ground—beautiful sight.
But the ground it rolled on was soaked red. Problem.
"Heh, f-fuck."
All my blood? Can a human body even hold this much?
They said no fatal wounds till HP hits zero—guess that's what it meant. Should be dead from blood loss, but somehow alive.
Doesn't match "no fatal wounds," but whatever. Barely clinging to life. Can't twitch a finger.
Fuck, gotta finish it off.
"Po...tion... po...tion...!"
Opened inventory, but can't move to grab it. Damn, arms worked fine earlier... Did I really use up every last bit of baby strength?
Any way to drink without hands? Ah, one.
Crash! Used the hand-free 'drop' option to summon a potion into the air. It shattered on the ground, contents spilling right at nose-distance if I fell forward.
Not a metaphor—exactly nose-distance. I aimed it perfect.
"Hup...!"
With my final all-out push, I tilted forward. Barely standing body face-planted.
Thud! Fuck, hope my nose isn't broken. Glass shards in my face—position spot on.
Lick.
Flat on my face like a retard, I lapped up the spilled potion. Could curse, so tongue worked at least.
Pathetic—no, fucking pathetic—but I got it down.
HP that was one lick from zero slowly refilled, minimal strength returning.
Slowly rose, properly grabbed a potion this time and drank. Recovered a bit more, then pulled a straight sword from inventory and slit the writhing werewolf's throat.
Stab!
Clear message and rewards scrolled down. Skimmed 'em with my eyes, then remembered something I'd forgotten and ducked my head fast.
Whoosh! The remaining kobold rider's halberd whistled over my head.
Fuck, it really is here. Can't the trash mobs just despawn after the boss? What's with this shitty system—
Passive Skill: Instinct Lv.1 acquired.
—Ha, knew it. Trusted you'd pull through, damn it.