The growl came from less than ten meters away.
The young man froze in the bushes, his breath locked in his chest.
His dark grey eyes flicked in every direction, straining to locate the source of the sound.
'Curses… way to go, Leo.' He cursed inwardly.
He already knew how dangerous it was to be out in the Hellscape this late, especially as a lone hunter. In his defense, he hadn't planned to stay out this long.
After all, there were only three ways to survive in Hellscape.
The first was the most logical: hunting in parties. Each member had a defined role, from scouts who risked their lives first to long-range fighters who ended battles before they truly began.
The second way was to be rich— wealthy enough to purchase beast cores and forcibly strengthen one's constitution. In many ways, this path was even smarter than the first. Money naturally solved problems brutally and efficiently.
The third way was far more difficult.
One had to be a monster among humans, a powerhouse capable of standing alone in the chaotic world and slaughtering powerful beasts with terrifying efficiency. Such people existed— but they were rare. Surviving solo in the Hellscape was almost impossible. And something only a maniac would dream of doing.
Unfortunately for Leo, none of these paths were available to him.
He was the weakest hunter in Glory Base, known less by his true name and more by the title "the Peerless Loser."
Even before entering the Hellscape, he had known his abilities were lacking. He had barely scraped past the minimum requirements to become a hunter. Though he trained relentlessly with endless calisthenics and aching muscles, pain quickly became second nature to him. With all of these it still did nothing to close the gap between him and an awakened superhuman.
And why was he even here?
All he had ever wanted was a simple life. A salesman, maybe. Someone capable of supporting his struggling family. He never wanted much from life and never expected it to want much from him.
Instead, he was cursed to repeatedly enter a world where life and death were decided as casually as losing a coin in tall grass.
Leonardo Hall was eighteen years old, burdened by a fractured family. All he had wanted was to become a pillar for his father and sister, something they could rely on. That dream shattered the day he heard the Song of the Sorrows, calling him into Hellscape.
He had heard the stories that those who ignored the call lost their minds, their bodies twisting until they became beast-like themselves.
With his fate sealed, Leo was forced into a cursed existence: surviving each day while praying he would live to see the next.
It was a fleeting existence.
Months passed with him remaining unaffiliated with any group or organizations in Hellscape. His title spoke for itself. His name was a joke within the base— a cautionary tale and a source of laughter all at once.
And what could he do to silence them?
He barely managed to kill dormant rank beasts which were supposed to be the lowest tier of beasts. He consumed their cores with desperate hope that one day he might awaken whatever latent abilities the sphere chose to give him.
Leo wouldn't call himself a terrible hunter. Just an unlucky one.
Between poor drops and the mandatory gateway fee every time he left the base, he was left with only a handful of dormant cores to actually sell. Most of what he earned was sent back to the waking world, scraped together to keep his family alive.
In the end, he never truly improved.
He remained stuck at the dormant level, lacking the resources to awaken anything more. The only thing he was grateful for was his uncanny tendency to survive— always barely. And whenever he did, he liked to believe his mother's soul was watching over him.
A familiar low growl snapped him back to reality.
A massive paw tore through the bush, claws slicing across his face and barely missing his eye.
"Shit!"
He hurled himself forward just as a massive black jackal- the size of a cow— crashed into the spot he had been hiding in.
Leo hit the ground hard with a thud, rolled, and ran.
Clutched tightly in his hand was a small, rusted dagger that happened to be his only companion for many months. The pain that burned through his very being was palpable and distracting. He had no intention of fighting at the moment. All he wanted was to lose the beast in the forest and escape.
His original plan had been to kill the cubs while their mother was away and harvest their cores with diligent grace.
Unfortunately, another party had already done so moments before he had arrived on the scene.
What remained by the time he reached there was a blood-soaked den and an enraged mother hunting for vengeance.
"Just my luck," he gasped, desperation etching into his voice.
Claws ripped into his back. Hot, wet pain exploded through him as his vision blurred. He staggered, nearly collapsing.
'Shit… I can barely see.'
It wasn't just the darkness— the forest had simply grown too dense. Trees and shadows blurred together like one living painting, but the thunderous growl behind him told him exactly where death was coming from.
His chest burned as he ran. His foot caught on a root, sending him crashing to the ground once more.
This time, he didn't rise fast enough and he regretted it almost immediately.
The beast was already on him.
It was a Red-Eyed Jackal, an awakened-rank beast— something even peak dormant superhumans and awakened struggled to face.
Like all true predators, it possessed long, curved claws capable of tearing through flesh and steel. And it's maw opened wide with a low growl to reveal huge white fangs dripping with viscous saliva.
All Leo had for protection was a simple rusted knife he hated to bet his life on.
The odds were hopelessly stacked against him and he knew that all too well.