The battle with the creature continued. Asan, having overcome his fear with the help of dark magic, was dodging the wide swings of the monster all over the kitchen. Each strike could have been fatal, as evidenced by the refrigerator that shattered into pieces from a single hit. His mind relentlessly calculated every step, every dodge, and grew extremely tired. Asan's nerves were stretched to the limit, and his breath was always ragged. It seemed that although the monster was stupid, it was quickly learning the boy's tactics.
His tactic was simple—strike, dodge. He had only recently started getting the hang of the first part. A couple of cuts on the creature's body from which white fluid was oozing testified to this.
Sweat mercilessly streamed down Asan's face along with blood from his cheek. He had received a few more minor cuts all over his body, which slightly slowed him down but not enough for it to be critical. He dodged Ronia's grasping teeth again and slashed her neck. Such a wound would have been critical for any human. But the creature seemed not to care. Unlike Asan, she didn't even bother trying to dodge much.
But he couldn't count on a prolonged battle. Asan quickly tired out. Every dodge now was an enormous effort. He panted heavily and stood in the middle of the kitchen, where white, foul-smelling liquid was spreading, dripping from the wounds Ronnie. Her eyes were glassy; he had no idea what she was.
A few times he wondered how it knew what to do, what motivated it?
His mind discarded these thoughts with the next attack.
But still, it couldn't be said that Asan felt uncertain in battle. His mind was still constructing a plan to kill the enemy. And finally, he didn't come up with anything better than to stun the creature and finish it off while it was down. To execute this plan, he would have to take a risk and choose an unfavorable position. Dodging barely, he ended up next to the countertop. The creature looked the same as before, only slightly more injured.
Again, it decided to deliver a slashing claw attack. Asan reacted immediately, crouching. It was then that he began praying to all gods that his plan would work. The creature's claws sliced through the kitchen cabinets above and, to Asan's relief, got stuck in the countertop. There was no time to waste anymore.
The guy jumped to his feet and, while the creature was still confused, stabbed it in the eye with a knife. A scream. An ear-splitting scream went off right next to Asan's ear, slightly concussing him.
Everything swam before his eyes, and his body swayed. He saw how the creature flailed, trying to free its stuck claws from the countertop, and with the other hand tried to pull out the knife. It seemed like some kind of self-preservation instinct was still present in it, because now it cared more about that than the scrawny kid. Asan, while he had the upper hand, quickly scanned the kitchen with his eyes, hoping to find something with which he could finish off the creature.
A wooden block containing knives caught his eye. Quickly grabbing it in his hands, he hit the handle of the knife with the blunt side, driving it deeper into the creature. The scream repeated, this time even more deafening for Asan.
His strength seemed to leave him, and the creature, unfortunately, managed to pull its hand free from the countertop. Asan barely stood in place, trying to maintain his balance and focus on the monster, but alas, a blow from the back of the clawed Ronnie hand caused him to fall to the floor, hitting his head painfully. The air was forced out of his lungs, and he felt how desperately he needed it. His vision began to darken, and each inhalation was reflected as a painful sensation in his chest.
His mouth filled with an unpleasant taste of blood, and his mind refused to work properly. He was almost exhausted. His heart held onto the hope that Laszlo would burst into the room, kick the creature away from him, and finish it off, but this was merely his imagination. Having recovered, the creature decided to deal with the knife threat later, returning its single eye's gaze to Asan.
It immediately pounced on him from above and tried to punch his head with it's whole hand. The guy stretched out his arms in front of him, trying to defend himself.
Instantly, sharp pain shot through his arms, and the pressure made them bend. With all his remaining strength, he held back the clawed hand whose claws were relentlessly approaching his eyes. He struggled to keep it at bay, kicking the monster below him in an attempt to throw it off, but his kicks were so weak that they did nothing. Live. He wants to live. He is ready to betray anyone to survive, to do anything for survival.
The last remnants of the energy within him flowed into his hands. Soon, his palms, pierced by the creature's claws, glowed darkly. The pain in his arms intensified, but with this...
Asan noticed the change.
Now the claws were no longer moving towards his head with force; instead, the creature suddenly wanted to break free from his grip. Darkness... It fears this power. At this perfect moment, Asan realized what he had been missing for victory. After all, he had always thought that this fire should help him win against any Ronnie. Perhaps the fear of pain had held him back, and only now, at the critical moment, he manage to use it correctly. Continuing to fuel his dark fire with an unknown inner energy, Asan noticed that it had already spread to the monster's hand, causing it to convulse desperately as it tried to break free from his grasp.
Given the enormous difference in strength, the Ronnie quickly managed to break free from him. But the fire on its hand mercilessly dissolved its disgusting flesh.
With his last ounce of strength, Asan, while his legs could still reach, he delivered an exact kick to the knife protruding from the monster's skull, driving it deeper and striking the creature's brain.
No more screams followed; the monster fell lifelessly next to the body of the exhausted boy and quickly perished.
[Congratulations! You have killed "Inferior"]. The message popped up before Asan, who was on his last breath. This time there were no other messages like level-ups, just one proud congratulatory message heralding Asan's victory.
He had done it. A painful smile spread across his face, signifying the joy of victory.
"Alone… I… Alone… Managed… Finally," the boy muttered to himself.
For him, this wasn't just a fight for survival; it meant much more.
Earlier he could never achieve anything in life: constant criticism from others, constant help from Laszlo, made him feel inadequate. He considered himself a weakling who would never accomplish anything without the help of others. It seemed that everything that happened, even today's morning when he was supposed to go for a job interview, was against him.
At the edge of his mind, his thoughts were that even the universe itself didn't consider him worthy of a good life. So much had happened that day—he had been on the brink of death twice. But the previous one was with Laszlo, while now, alone, he managed to do something. This wasn't someone else's achievement, nor was it anyone's help, no.
Asan managed to deal with her despite being weaker.
That was what caused a smile on his face in such a situation, a happy smile. He was no longer a weakling; he managed to kill the creature that had killed at least two people.
Even this fact stirred his blood. But his smile quickly vanished. What was the point of his achievements when he could die at any second? Blood mercilessly left his body, streaming from his pierced palms.
"Stand up..." He said to himself.
"Come on, Asan, get up!" He said to himself again.
He forced his body to stand up with all his might, just to sit up. His legs and arms betrayed him, as if there was an invisible weight holding them down. The gusts of wind coming from the street seemed to push him into the ground, wanting him not to rise. But he would make it, after all, he had defeated the monster.
It was then that an idea came to his mind on how he could help himself. There were some characteristics in the system that he had forgotten about. Thinking about this, a completely new, previously unseen, notification popped up before him.
[characteristics]
[strength - 7]
[endurance - 15]
[agility - 10]
[perception - 5]
[intelligence - 5]
[wisdom - 3]
[Health points - 34/75]
[Mana - 33/50]
[Aura - Blocked]
Available for distribution – 5 points.
Asan silently looked at the indicators, pondering in his head what would help him now. He didn't know which ones corresponded to health or mana points. The interface still reminded him of computer games, which was quite a good analogy. Was this all just a game?
Health points rapidly decreased, every 30 seconds, due to bleeding from his hands, his health dropped by 1 point. He needed to do something about it, if only he knew what exactly could help him now...
Without much thought, Asan poured all 5 points into endurance. As he thought, this was what controlled his health. He wasn't mistaken; his
[endurance - 20]
[Health points - 33/105]
So one stat point is worth 5 health? He should have remembered that. He felt his breathing ease up slightly and overall it became easier to endure the pain, though it was still hellish. Clenching his teeth, the guy tried to get up. With great difficulty, he managed it, now sitting on the floor, already tearing his cute pink t-shirt into shreds.
He didn't know how to provide first aid, but he figured he needed to stop the bleeding somehow. Struggling to rip the poor shirt apart, the guy immediately bandaged his hands. Glancing at the stats window, he saw that his health was no longer dropping, or at least not as fast.
"Alright... Now stand up..." Talking to himself again, Asan attempted to make a sudden effort to stand.
After a few attempts, leaning on the damaged countertop with his hand, he finally stood on his feet.
"Another victory on a global scale… Argh…"
Every inch of his body hurt terribly. He didn't want to move, but his injured legs barely held him up. Yet, he had to go.
So Asan took his knife out of the creature's eye, went back for the bag, and finally found some spare clothes in the room with the dead man—a black T-shirt and a matching black hoodie. The only interesting thing he found was… a compass. Who would have thought such a thing would be in this house. The rest wasn't particularly useful to him right now; he didn't need to stuff all the clothes into bags, that was Alice and Crane's job. Soon, he left the cursed house and set off to find his friend.
At least today he wouldn't die.