Creation system

Mitch's fingers tingled as he reached for the familiar sensation of his weapon creation skill, drawing upon the wellspring of mana that had become as natural as breathing.

But nothing materialized in his grasp, no comforting weight of steel or wood, just the hollow echo of depleted energy.

"Damn, what a mana-hungry skill," he muttered, flexing his empty hands in frustration.

The irony wasn't lost on him. Thanks to his newly acquired passive skill, [Apprentice Mana Manipulation], Mitch felt a deeper, more intimate connection to the mystical energy that permeated this strange world.

The sensation was like discovering a sixth sense, he could perceive mana as a faint but persistent pulse in the air around him, threads of power that he could almost reach out and touch.

It flowed through everything: the ancient stones of the cave, the twisted branches of the alien trees, even the morning mist that clung to the forest floor like ghostly fingers.

The thought of extracting mana from slime cores crossed his mind, but his pockets were disappointingly empty.

He needed more cores, both to fuel his growing understanding of magic and to purchase the [Small Pocket Space] skill that would finally free him from the constant burden of carrying everything on his own.

The sun hung low on the horizon, painting the sky in shades of amber and crimson. Darkness in this world brought dangers he wasn't ready to face, and hunting slimes by moonlight seemed like an unnecessary risk.

With reluctant steps, Mitch retreated into the relative safety of his cave sanctuary, settling cross-legged on the smooth stone floor.

He spent the remaining hours of daylight in meditation, guiding mana through the pathways of his body in slow, deliberate circuits until exhaustion finally claimed him.

The night passed without incident, save for the distant howls of creatures that made Mitch grateful for his stone shelter.

When dawn's first light crept through the cave entrance, he was already awake, stretching muscles stiff from sleeping on rock. Today felt different, charged with possibility.

Fortune smiled upon him within the first hour of hunting.

While tracking a particularly elusive slime through a grove of silver-barked trees, Mitch stumbled upon a natural depression in the earth, a wide pit that nature had carved into the landscape.

Inside, more than twenty slimes bounced and jiggled with mindless contentment, their translucent green bodies catching the filtered sunlight like living emeralds.

Without a moment's hesitation, Mitch leaped into the center of the pit, landing with a wet squelch that sent ripples through the nearest slime.

The creatures turned toward him with what might have been curiosity if they possessed any real intelligence, their simple forms pulsing with gentle bioluminescence.

Fear had long since abandoned him in the presence of these harmless beings. He'd learned their patterns, understood their limitations. They were living resources, nothing more.

His makeshift club, a sturdy branch he'd reinforced with strips of bark, became an instrument of methodical destruction.

One by one, he reduced the slimes to puddles of goo, each impact sending droplets of viscous fluid cascading through the air until he was thoroughly soaked in the stuff.

Maybe jumping into the middle wasn't my brightest idea, he thought, wiping slime residue from his eyes. Now I'll have to find a stream before this stuff hardens.

The [Gather] skill proved invaluable, allowing him to extract the precious cores while leaving behind the useless slime balls that littered the battlefield.

These gelatinous spheres had always puzzled him, too soft to be useful as tools, too bland to be edible. Perhaps, he mused, repeatedly using a skill might cause it to evolve, revealing new applications for these seemingly worthless byproducts.

"Inspect!" he commanded, focusing on one of the abandoned slime balls.

[Slime Sludge – Crafting Ingredient]

"What a stingy skill," Mitch grumbled, "giving me almost no useful information."

The remainder of the day proved fruitful beyond his expectations. By sunset, his pouch bulged with thirty-four slime cores, their surfaces still warm with residual life energy.

It was finally enough to purchase the [Small Pocket Space] skill he'd been coveting.

The transaction occurred with the same disconcerting efficiency as all system interactions.

Knowledge flooded his mind in an instant, not learned but simply known, as if the information had always been there waiting to be accessed.

When he activated the skill, reality bent before him, opening a portal that manifested as a perfectly black square slightly larger than his palm.

Experimentally, he pushed a branch toward the black square. It barely fit, squeezed through the dimensional barrier with obvious reluctance.

While the skill remained active, he possessed an intuitive awareness of everything contained within the pocket space.

Retrieving items required nothing more than focused thought, reach in, visualize what he wanted, and his hand would find it automatically.

The skill consumed ten mana points and lasted exactly two minutes before the portal vanished, though its contents remained safely stored in whatever dimension the system had carved out for him.

He could also dismiss it early if needed, a useful feature for conserving mana in dangerous situations.

One cubic meter of storage space, not vast, but revolutionary for someone who'd been carrying everything by hand.

Mitch quickly filled it with two sturdy branches and as many berries as would fit, the fruits compressed into efficient layers that maximized the available volume.

Back in the familiar confines of his cave, Mitch held a slime core in his right hand, its surface cool and smooth like polished glass.

He could sense the mana contained within, a gentle warmth that seemed to pulse in rhythm with his own heartbeat.

His first attempts at absorption followed the same mental processes he used for system points, but the core simply crumbled to dust, its precious energy dissipating into the air like smoke.

Two more cores. Two more failures. Each failure stung not just from the wasted resources, but from the growing frustration of being so close to understanding yet missing some crucial element.

On his final attempt, inspiration struck. Instead of trying to drain the core immediately, he pushed a small amount of his own mana into it first.

The effect was immediate, a bridge formed between his energy and the core's, creating a pathway he could follow. When he pulled back, the core's mana came with him, flowing into his body.

[1 x Small infant harmless nature slime core converted into 1 xp point!]

"I did it!" The words erupted from him in a shout of pure triumph that echoed through the cave.

The sensation was intoxicating, a spark of foreign energy surging through his body, carrying with it the promise of growth and power.

One experience point might seem insignificant, but it represented hope.

If he could harvest experience from these simple creatures, then perhaps the stronger slimes dwelling in the dungeon's depths would yield proportionally greater rewards.

The sun still provided enough light for hunting. Time to put his discovery to work.

The following days blurred together in a haze of systematic slime hunting. Mitch fell into a rhythm: wake before dawn, hunt until exhaustion, absorb cores by firelight, sleep, repeat.

By the end of the day, he'd accumulated six more cores, each one representing precious experience points that brought him closer to his first level-up.

The breakthrough came three days later, after he'd eliminated yet another cluster of the gelatinous creatures.

The familiar system notification appeared before him, but this time it was accompanied by an unexpected cascade of errors.

CONGRATULATIONS

You leveled up!

#%#%@! SYSTEM ERROR!!

NO CLASS FOUND

@$!@$!@%%%%err_code 7222223; Rewards table NULL; Basic reward will be given!

+1 to ALL stats!

"What? No class?" Mitch's voice cracked with indignation. "This damned system yanks me from Earth, gives me blessings and skills, and then forgets to assign me a class? What kind of trash system is this?"

Despite his frustration, the changes were undeniable. His body felt different, stronger, more responsive.

His punches carried weight they'd never possessed before, and his vision had sharpened to an almost supernatural degree.

The persistent mental fog that had plagued him since arriving in this world had lifted, leaving his thoughts clearer and more focused than ever.

Even his mana sense had improved, allowing him to perceive the energy flows around him with greater precision.

A quick check of his status screen confirmed the transformation, every attribute had increased by exactly one point.

"All this effort for a single point increase?" he muttered, but the complaint lacked conviction. He could feel the difference in every movement, every breath. "I need to level up faster!"

The rush of his first level-up proved addictive. Fueled by newfound strength and the promise of further growth, Mitch launched himself into a slime-slaying frenzy that lasted well into the night.

He fought until his vision blurred with exhaustion and his arms trembled from repeated impacts, finally collapsing beside a pile of cores that represented hours of relentless hunting.

The next morning brought groaning muscles and a skull-splitting headache that served as a painful reminder of his excesses.

I really need to pace myself next time, he thought, working the kinks out of his neck and shoulders.

His mood improved considerably when he saw the results of his nocturnal rampage: twenty-eight gleaming slime cores, each one worth a precious experience point.

[28 x Small infant harmless nature slime core converted into 28 xp points!]

The system had also updated his interface, now displaying his current experience total and the amount needed for the next level. Twenty points would carry him to level three, a goal within easy reach.

But wisdom prevailed over eagerness. He'd learned his lesson about celebrating level-ups during the night.

The euphoric energy surge that accompanied each advancement made sleep impossible, and he couldn't afford to lose another night to his own enthusiasm.

The following day brought his second level-up, and with it the same intoxicating rush of power.

His stats increased across the board, and he felt the familiar urge to test his new capabilities against every slime in the vicinity.

This time, however, he channeled the energy more constructively, maintaining his hunting routine while slowly adapting to his enhanced abilities.

Each subsequent level brought noticeable improvements. His movements became more fluid and precise, his senses sharper and more attuned to his environment.

The progression continued over the following five days. Level four, five, six, and finally seven, each milestone marked by increased power and decreased challenge.

But with level seven came a sobering realization: the experience requirements were scaling exponentially. He now needed three hundred points for his next advancement, while his daily hunting yielded barely fifty cores.

Worse still, the area around his cave had been nearly depleted of slimes. His systematic culling had reduced the local population to scattered survivors who proved increasingly difficult to locate.

"I have two choices," Mitch said aloud, his voice echoing in the empty cave as he paced back and forth across the stone floor.

"One: Leave this place behind. Head deeper into the forest, establish a new base, and maybe return stronger to tackle the dungeon. But these little guys barely give any experience anymore..." He shook his head. "It's not worth the effort."

His fist clenched unconsciously. I just want to kill a dungeon slime. See what they're really worth.

"Two: Go back into the dungeon now. I'm way stronger than when I first entered, maybe strong enough to handle whatever's waiting inside."

He spent the entire day wrestling with the decision, weighing risks against potential rewards while hunting the few remaining slimes in the area. That night, as he sat by his small fire consuming a dinner of berries and roasted meat, the choice became clear.

It was time to face the dungeon.

At level seven, Mitch had gained six full levels since his arrival, each one adding a point to every attribute. His mana pool had grown by ten points per level, bringing his total to seventy-five, enough to fuel his skills for extended periods without fear of depletion.

"Status," he commanded, and the familiar interface materialized before him.

Name: Mitch (human)

Level: 7 [28 / 300xp] (tier 1)

Class: None

Divine blessing: Creation system ★★★★★★★★★★

Body: 12

Mind: 15

Mana: 75

Achievements: Otherworlder ★★★‚ Divine luck ★★★★★★★★

Skills: [Gather], [Inspect], [Create common weapon], [Create element], [Small pocket space]

Passives: [Apprentice mana manipulation]

His [Create Element] spell had evolved alongside his growing mana pool.

He could now inject up to thirty mana points into the ability, manifesting a sphere of elemental energy the size of a basketball.

It remained frustratingly useless in combat. He still couldn't throw the construct or maintain it for more than a few seconds, but the raw power contained within each manifestation promised future potential.

The next morning dawned clear and bright, carrying the crisp scent of adventure on the wind.

Mitch prepared methodically, filling his pocket space with preserved food and loading his regular pack with additional supplies.

His weapon of choice remained a sturdy branch.

Now, standing at the entrance to the slime chamber, he felt none of the fear that had paralyzed him during his first visit.

The slimes within bounced with the same innocent contentment they'd always displayed, blissfully unaware of the predator preparing to enter their domain.

Mitch selected his first target, a solitary green slime positioned near the chamber's entrance, well away from the main cluster.

He approached with calculated confidence, his enhanced senses tracking the creature's movements while simultaneously monitoring the magical emanations that preceded its attacks.

The first strike connected with satisfying force, sending goo splashing across the stone floor. He felt the familiar buildup of mana that signaled an incoming vine attack and sidestepped effortlessly, his improved reflexes making the creature's assault seem laughably slow.

A second strike found the core, and the slime exploded into a cascade of blue particles that evaporated into nothingness, leaving only a single glowing core behind.

"This must be a dungeon feature," he murmured ."Gather!"

Nothing happened. The skill that had served him so well in the forest seemed powerless within the dungeon's confines.

"Weird..."

He picked up the core and retreated to the safety of the entrance corridor. The moment he crossed the threshold, his [Inspect] skill activated .

[Dungeon made small nature slime core – tier 1]

The difference was immediately apparent. This core contained far more concentrated mana than any he'd encountered outside, its surface warm with barely contained energy.

He began the absorption process with practiced efficiency, pushing his own mana into the core to establish the necessary connection.

[1 x Small nature slime core converted into 10 xp points!]

"Ten times the experience?!" Mitch's grin was fierce with anticipation. "Jackpot!"

He turned back toward the chamber, his enhanced vision taking in the dozens of slimes that continued their aimless bouncing, completely oblivious to the fate that awaited them.

They represented not just experience points but the key to rapid advancement, a pathway to power that would transform him from a struggling survivor into a force to be reckoned with.

The slimes had no idea what was coming. But Mitch did, and the knowledge filled him with predatory satisfaction.

The real hunt was about to begin.