He didn't hesitate.
"Status on!"
The translucent panel formed before him, its soft glow cutting through the forest shade.
He scanned the lines carefully.
Name:Kevin Morrell
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Mark: Misfit
SoulLink: 1 / 13 (Beggar)
Soul Fragments: 0 / 100
Soul Origin: Unknown
Shadow: Black Rabbit
Kevin smirked.
The last line was the one that grabbed him. Shadow.
"Well, well," he murmured, leaning closer, "let's see what you can do."
He tapped the word Shadow with a fingertip.
A new line slid into view, written in clean, cryptic letters:
"What shadows take is what Shadows return."
Kevin frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"
He tapped his chin, thinking. It couldn't be literal… could it? Did it mean anything the shadow killed could be brought back? Summoned? Or maybe it took traits, skills, fragments—then gave them back in some form?
"Or…" he whispered, "does it mean I can summon the black rabbit again?"
Only one way to find out.
He tapped the smaller tab under "Shadow"—the one labeled Black Rabbit.
A separate status window unfolded like a page:
Name: Black Rabbit
Age: ?
Mark: Dark Knight
Core Soul: 0 / 10 (Primal)
Soul Fragment: 0 / 10
Soul Origin: Empower
Kevin whistled softly. "Damn. You have a whole profile."
He tapped Dark Knight.
Another line appeared:
"Proud, stubborn, a true warrior who never backs down."
Kevin nodded slowly. "Yeah… that fits. You didn't retreat earlier."
He closed the windows, stepped back, and took a breath.
Then, in a low steady voice, he commanded:
"Come forth, Black Rabbit."
His shadow rippled—subtle at first, like a breeze moving over water.
Then it bulged.
Then it rose.
A shapeless darkness pushed upward from the ground, stretching, forming ears, then limbs. In seconds, the black rabbit stood beside him again. Its fur swallowed the light around it, making the creature look like a living patch of night. Its red eyes burned like ember in the night.
It remained perfectly still, unblinking, simply watching.
Kevin took a cautious step forward and reached out a hand to pet it. But the rabbit brushed past him without hesitation.
It hopped straight toward the rabbit corpse, lowered its head, and began tearing into the flesh. The sound was wet and unpleasant, bones cracking like dry twigs beneath its teeth.
Kevin froze.
"…Right," he muttered, letting his hand fall. "Priorities."
The creature devoured its kin as if it were nothing. No hesitation. No grief. No morality. Just instinct, hunger, and something darker.
Kevin sighed and wandered back toward the fire pit. He grabbed a leftover piece of boar meat and chewed thoughtfully while watching the rabbit eat.
He still wasn't used to this world—its savagery, its rules, its twisted balance. But this shadow beast… this was something he could work with.
A soft chime suddenly echoed through the air.
"Congratulations. Your shadow obtained a Soul Fragment."
Kevin froze mid-bite.
Then his eyes widened. "Wait—what?"
His heart kicked into a faster rhythm. If the shadow gained fragments by eating… and he shared in that—
Another chime.
Another line.
"Congratulations. Your shadow obtained a Core Soul."
"Congratulations. You obtained a Soul Fragment."
Kevin's lips slowly stretched into a grin.
"Hah… haha… now we're talking."
It wasn't a gentle laugh. It came out rough and sharp, tinged with exhaustion and exhilaration. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, staring at the rabbit as it continued tearing chunks of flesh like the corpse owed it money.
"So," he murmured, "you get stronger… and I benefit too."
His voice dropped to a whisper, almost conspiratorial.
"That's a good deal. A really good deal."
He glanced at the shadow-beast again—its fur glinting faintly as it ate the last of the corpse, showing no remorse at all.
"Keep eating," Kevin murmured. "Become stronger. I need you to protect me."
He finished his meal, tossed the bone aside, and stood. His body still ached, but his hunger subsided. He felt stronger. More alive.
He stretched his arms, cracked his neck, and grinned.
"Well then," he said cheerfully, "no point wasting time."
He pointed toward the forest, like a commander giving orders.
"Let's go hunt, buddy."
The black rabbit lifted its head from the remains, blood staining its mouth like war paint. It stared at Kevin for a moment—eyes deep, red, intelligent. The air between them shifted. Something unspoken passed between them, a wordless agreement.
Then it hopped forward and fell into step beside him.
Kevin laughed softly. "Heh. So you're willing to follow after all."
He grabbed his dagger and stepped into the treeline, still limping. The sun was high, so was Kevin's spirit.
He had a partner now.
A weapon.
A shield.
And maybe, if he played this right, the path of revenge is just around the corner.
Kevin glanced at the shadow-beast hopping quietly beside him.
"You and me," he said. "Let's survive this hellhole together."
The rabbit's ears twitched.
They moved deeper into the forest.
Kevin and the black rabbit trekked through the forest with a strange, almost accidental rhythm.
Now and then, the rabbit would glance up at him, its crimson eyes gleaming with something between curiosity and annoyance. Kevin just smirked back.
"We're really doing this, huh?" he muttered under his breath.
They hadn't walked long before Kevin felt the ground tremble beneath his feet. It wasn't much, just a shift, a faint vibration. He stopped, scanning the brush. The rabbit stiffened beside him, ears sharp as blades.
From the forest, huge ants surged out of the bushes—glossy black bodies the size of small motorcycles, mandibles clicking like blades snapping shut. Each one stood almost a meter tall, eyes beady and lifeless.
Kevin winced. "Oh, come on. Giant ants? Really?"
The ants shrieked with a high, chittering scream that scraped against his skull.
Before Kevin could even lift his dagger, the black rabbit launched itself forward. It slammed into the nearest ant, Fangs carving through the creature's head plate. Chitin cracked like brittle stone.
Kevin rushed in behind it. "Alright, fine—teamwork!"
The swarm collapsed on them. One ant lunged at Kevin's legs; he dodged sideways, barely avoiding the snapping mandibles. Another came from behind—he spun and slashed, burying his dagger into the joint where its head met its neck. Hot fluid splattered across his arm.
The rabbit tore into another, ripping chunks of shell and flesh with feral efficiency. Despite everything—despite the chaos and the stink and the panic—Kevin almost laughed. The damn rabbit was terrifying. And it was on his side.
More ants swarmed. Kevin ducked under a lunging head, rolled across the dirt, and jabbed upward. The ant convulsed and fell limp.
At some point, the tide shifted. The remaining ants turned and began to scuttle away, their legs thundering against the ground.
The rabbit moved to chase.
Kevin snapped, "Leave it!"
The rabbit froze, breathing hard, then hopped back to him.
A soft pulse of energy rippled through the air, followed by the familiar whisper of the system:
"Congratulations. You obtained Soul Fragment."
Then another, and so on.
Kevin obtained 12 soul fragments in that fight, while the Black Rabbit obtained 23 soul fragments.
Kevin let out a slow whistle. "Damn. You're leveling up faster than me, buddy."
The rabbit flicked green blood off its paw, unimpressed.
Kevin wiped his dagger on the grass. His muscles throbbed from the fight, and his ribs ached where one ant had rammed him. Maybe they should rest—but he pushed forward anyway. The rabbit followed without a sound, like a shard of living shadow.
They walked another few minutes before the sounds reached them—snarls, panicked voices, wood splintering. Instinct drew Kevin forward. He parted a curtain of branches and froze.
A caravan sat in the clearing. Five wagons forming a crude circle, wheels dug into the soil. Men and women brandished spears and shields, their faces sick with fear.
The attackers moved like ink across the ground. Scourge Wolves, lean and dark, fur spiked like broken armor. Their eyes glowed an eerie green, and their growls rumbled deep, vibrating through the trees.
Not like the rabbits or the boar.
These were hunters. Coordinated. Deadly.
Kevin's grip tightened on his dagger. The rabbit lowered itself, muscles coiled, waiting for Kevin's lead.
"Well," he muttered, heart thudding against his ribs, "looks like the warm-up's over."