The Zombie System.

"I know you have to go. Just come back safe, okay?"

Leon's mother holds him tightly in their small kitchen. Morning sunlight streams through the clean windows, filling the modest apartment with warmth and hope. Her arms feel stronger now, no longer frail from months of illness.

"I will," Leon promises, adjusting his pack one last time. His manna gun rests securely in its holster, and fresh ammunition fills his belt pouches. Everything is checked and ready for whatever awaits him below.

She pulls back to study his face. "You don't have to prove anything to anyone."

"This isn't about proving anything. It's about getting stronger."

Leon explains his plan the night before: a solo dungeon run to test his abilities without distractions. It is the kind of training that separates survivors from victims in their world.

His mother nods, understanding reflected in her eyes. "Then go. But come home for dinner."

Leon kisses her forehead and steps into the morning air. The Shadow Quarter is already alive with activity. Vendors arrange their wares, and children play in narrow alleys, normal people living ordinary lives while hunters like him descend into darkness.

The equipment district buzzes with early customers. Leon stops at Hark's stall, where the weathered dealer polishes a set of throwing knives.

"Morning, lad," Hark says without looking up. "Off somewhere interesting?"

"Solo training run. Nothing fancy."

"Good hunting." Hark's tone carries genuine respect; the old dealer has seen too many young hunters leave cocky and never return.

Leon purchases additional medical supplies and emergency rations. It is better to carry too much than to find himself unprepared. The dungeon won't forgive poor planning.

The registration building stands at the Upper district's edge, all official stone and adorned with Hunter Association banners. Leon approaches the desk clerk calmly.

"Dungeon access request," he says, sliding his license across the polished wood.

The clerk studies his F-Rank badge with evident doubt. "Which dungeon?"

"Serpent's Den. Solo classification."

"That's an E-Rank dungeon. The recommended party size is three minimum."

"I'm aware of the requirements."

The clerk stamps his papers with evident reluctance. "Sign the liability waiver. Emergency extraction costs extra."

Leon signs without bothering to read the details. Legal disclaimers won't save him if things go wrong underground.

Before entering the dungeon, Leon finds a quiet corner and accesses his system interface. Blue text materializes in his peripheral vision, invisible to anyone else.

[Leon Graves - Level 7] [Health: 180/180] [Manna: 240/240] [Available Zombies: 2/2] [Elite Grave Mage: Ready] [Undead Assassin: Ready]

His accumulated experience points reflect steady progress. The mechanics of the system have become clearer through trial and understanding. For every five snake-type monsters he defeats, he earns an additional stat point on top of the normal experience gains. It is an efficient farming opportunity for anyone willing to take risks.

Leon closes the interface and approaches the dungeon entrance. The Serpent's Den gapes like a wound in the earth, with stone steps descending into a phosphorescent gloom.

A checkpoint guard lounges beside the entrance, his bored expression shifting to amusement when he spots Leon's badge. "You sure you want to do this alone, kid?"

Leon meets his gaze with a stoic expression and walks past without a word.

"This place eats F-Ranks for breakfast," the guard calls after him. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

The warning fades as Leon descends the carved steps into the living darkness. The air changes immediately—cold and damp, filled with the scents of moss and something sharper that makes his nose itch. Phosphorescent fungus paints the walls in a sickly green light.

Each footstep echoes strangely in the confined space. Leon moves with deliberate care, testing each surface before committing his weight. A slick stone can mean the difference between life and death in such tight quarters.

After fifty meters, the tunnel branches. Leon marks his route with minor chalk marks, ensuring he can find his way back even if disoriented. Getting lost could be deadlier than the monsters themselves.

A faint slithering sound echoes from the left passage. Leon freezes, his hand instinctively moving to his weapon. The sound repeats—definitely organic movement across the stone.

His first opponent emerges from a wall crevice like a liquid shadow. A serpent with scales as dark as wet obsidian, its body thick as his arm, and fangs gleaming with natural venom. It strikes without warning.

Leon's reflexes kick in. His manna gun clears its holster in one smooth motion. The shot hits the snake squarely in the center mass, explosive energy vaporizing its midsection. Dark blood splatters across the phosphorescent moss.

[XP +12] [Snake Count: 1/5]

The system confirms his kill and updates his progress toward the next stat bonus. Leon reloads quickly, scanning for additional threats. Where there is one snake, others usually follow.

He summons his Elite Grave Mage for backup. The spectral figure materializes silently, blue fire flickering in its empty eye sockets. Its presence offers both psychological comfort and a tactical advantage.

As he ventures deeper into the tunnels, encounters become more frequent. Snakes drop from ceiling cracks or erupt from shallow pools of stagnant water. Some are barely larger than his thumb but carry toxins potent enough to paralyze. Others stretch longer than he is tall, powerful enough to crush ribs.

Leon adapts his tactics to each threat. Small venomous species require precision shots to avoid being splashed with poisonous blood, and constrictors need to be eliminated rapidly before they can establish a grip. His zombie provides excellent support, its spectral bolts ideally suited for targeting mobile foes.

[XP +9] [Snake Count: 2/5]

[XP +15] [Snake Count: 3/5]

The progression feels steady and manageable. Leon allocates his stat points as he earns them, concentrating on Vitality and Agility to enhance his survival. Each improvement brings subtle yet noticeable changes, making him feel more capable and resilient.

[Vitality: 30 → 32] [Agility: 21 → 23]

A new chamber opens before him—circular and domed, with multiple tunnel entrances lining its perimeter. Water drips steadily from somewhere above, creating a rhythmic sound that fills the air. The phosphorescent fungi here grow in intricate patterns that almost seem intentional.

Leon approaches the center of the chamber cautiously. His zombie flanks him on the left, keeping a watchful eye on the various passages. Something feels off about the acoustics; sounds echo strangely, as if the space is larger than it appears.

A low rumble emanates from the largest tunnel. This time, it isn't the slithering he encountered earlier but something heavier, moving deliberately. Leon raises his weapon as shadows shift at the mouth of the passage.

The mid-boss emerges in segments. First comes the massive triangular head, easily twice the size of his torso. Then, the thick, coiled body—muscular and covered in scales marked with glowing green bands that pulse with an inner light. The creature's length seems impossible in the confined space, filling Leon with awe and dread.

[Giant Viper - Level 12] [Warning: Venomous Bite, Crushing Coils, Acid Spit]

Leon's zombie opens fire immediately, spectral bolts hammering into the creature's flank. The shots leave smoking craters but barely seem to register. This is not a standard dungeon snake—it's something specifically bred for lethal purpose.

The viper's tail whips around with frightening speed. Leon dives aside just as the appendage pulverizes the stone where he was standing moments earlier. Debris rains down, with some pieces large enough to crack skulls.

Leon rolls to his feet and fires three rapid shots at the creature's head. His rounds strike the scales and deflect, sending sparks flying across the chamber. The viper's armor is too thick for standard ammunition to penetrate.

Acid sprays from the creature's mouth, hissing as it strikes the walls. Leon's zombie withdraws to avoid the corrosive attack, its blue flames dimming as toxic fumes fill the air.

The battle becomes a deadly dance of positioning and timing. Leon targets the softer scales along the viper's throat while his zombie provides distractions from multiple angles. The creature's size works against it in the confined chamber, limiting its ability to unleash full strength.

After twenty minutes of brutal exchange, Leon finds his opening. The viper rears back to unleash another acid attack, exposing the pale scales beneath its jaw. Leon's shot and his zombie's spectral bolt strike simultaneously.

The creature's head snaps back, dark blood erupting from the wound. It thrashes once more, then goes still, leaving Leon breathless and on edge, the adrenaline coursing through his veins.

[XP +89] [Giant Viper Defeated] [Stat Point Gained]

Leon leans against the chamber wall, breathing heavily. Sweat mingles with minor cuts from flying debris, stinging his skin. His zombie flickers with damage but remains operational—a testament to its resilience.

Partially hidden behind the viper's coils is a heavy iron coffer. Leon pries it open, revealing enchanted bracers that hum with protective energy and a pouch filled with silver coins. Excitement surges through him as he realizes the potential of his newfound treasures.

[Enchanted Bracers of Warding] [+5 Magic Resistance, +3 Physical Defense]

Leon straps on the bracers, feeling their energy settle into his bones. Every advantage matters in solo operations.

The far door of the chamber stands slightly ajar, the heavy stone moving on ancient hinges. As Leon approaches, a deep animal growl echoes from the darkness beyond. Something massive shifts in the shadows, chitinous limbs scraping against the carved walls.

Leon raises his manna gun, his heart racing as adrenaline surges through his system. In the gloom ahead, the dungeon's final boss emerges, step by calculated step.

The towering mantis fills the doorway, its bladed forearms gleaming with a cold light that hints at supernatural sharpness. Its compound eyes fix on Leon with a predatory intelligence, promising a fight unlike anything he has faced before. A mix of fear and determination courses through him as he prepares for the battle ahead.

"I know you have to go. Just come back safe, okay?"

Leon's mother holds him tightly in their small kitchen. Morning sunlight streams through the clean windows, filling the modest apartment with warmth and hope. Her arms feel stronger now, no longer frail from months of illness.

"I will," Leon promises, adjusting his pack one last time. His manna gun rests securely in its holster, and fresh ammunition fills his belt pouches. Everything is checked and ready for whatever awaits him below.

She pulls back to study his face. "You don't have to prove anything to anyone."

"This isn't about proving anything. It's about getting stronger."

Leon explains his plan the night before: a solo dungeon run to test his abilities without distractions. It is the kind of training that separates survivors from victims in their world.

His mother nods, understanding reflected in her eyes. "Then go. But come home for dinner."

Leon kisses her forehead and steps into the morning air. The Shadow Quarter is already alive with activity. Vendors arrange their wares, and children play in narrow alleys, normal people living ordinary lives while hunters like him descend into darkness.

The equipment district buzzes with early customers. Leon stops at Hark's stall, where the weathered dealer polishes a set of throwing knives.

"Morning, lad," Hark says without looking up. "Off somewhere interesting?"

"Solo training run. Nothing fancy."

"Good hunting." Hark's tone carries genuine respect; the old dealer has seen too many young hunters leave cocky and never return.

Leon purchases additional medical supplies and emergency rations. It is better to carry too much than to find himself unprepared. The dungeon won't forgive poor planning.

The registration building stands at the Upper district's edge, all official stone and adorned with Hunter Association banners. Leon approaches the desk clerk calmly.

"Dungeon access request," he says, sliding his license across the polished wood.

The clerk studies his F-Rank badge with evident doubt. "Which dungeon?"

"Serpent's Den. Solo classification."

"That's an E-Rank dungeon. The recommended party size is three minimum."

"I'm aware of the requirements."

The clerk stamps his papers with evident reluctance. "Sign the liability waiver. Emergency extraction costs extra."

Leon signs without bothering to read the details. Legal disclaimers won't save him if things go wrong underground.

Before entering the dungeon, Leon finds a quiet corner and accesses his system interface. Blue text materializes in his peripheral vision, invisible to anyone else.

[Leon Graves - Level 7] [Health: 180/180] [Manna: 240/240] [Available Zombies: 2/2] [Elite Grave Mage: Ready] [Undead Assassin: Ready]

His accumulated experience points reflect steady progress. The mechanics of the system have become clearer through trial and understanding. For every five snake-type monsters he defeats, he earns an additional stat point on top of the normal experience gains. It is an efficient farming opportunity for anyone willing to take risks.

Leon closes the interface and approaches the dungeon entrance. The Serpent's Den gapes like a wound in the earth, with stone steps descending into a phosphorescent gloom.

A checkpoint guard lounges beside the entrance, his bored expression shifting to amusement when he spots Leon's badge. "You sure you want to do this alone, kid?"

Leon meets his gaze with a stoic expression and walks past without a word.

"This place eats F-Ranks for breakfast," the guard calls after him. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

The warning fades as Leon descends the carved steps into the living darkness. The air changes immediately—cold and damp, filled with the scents of moss and something sharper that makes his nose itch. Phosphorescent fungus paints the walls in a sickly green light.

Each footstep echoes strangely in the confined space. Leon moves with deliberate care, testing each surface before committing his weight. A slick stone can mean the difference between life and death in such tight quarters.

After fifty meters, the tunnel branches. Leon marks his route with minor chalk marks, ensuring he can find his way back even if disoriented. Getting lost could be deadlier than the monsters themselves.

A faint slithering sound echoes from the left passage. Leon freezes, his hand instinctively moving to his weapon. The sound repeats—definitely organic movement across the stone.

His first opponent emerges from a wall crevice like a liquid shadow. A serpent with scales as dark as wet obsidian, its body thick as his arm, and fangs gleaming with natural venom. It strikes without warning.

Leon's reflexes kick in. His manna gun clears its holster in one smooth motion. The shot hits the snake squarely in the center mass, explosive energy vaporizing its midsection. Dark blood splatters across the phosphorescent moss.

[XP +12] [Snake Count: 1/5]

The system confirms his kill and updates his progress toward the next stat bonus. Leon reloads quickly, scanning for additional threats. Where there is one snake, others usually follow.

He summons his Elite Grave Mage for backup. The spectral figure materializes silently, blue fire flickering in its empty eye sockets. Its presence offers both psychological comfort and a tactical advantage.

As he ventures deeper into the tunnels, encounters become more frequent. Snakes drop from ceiling cracks or erupt from shallow pools of stagnant water. Some are barely larger than his thumb but carry toxins potent enough to paralyze. Others stretch longer than he is tall, powerful enough to crush ribs.

Leon adapts his tactics to each threat. Small venomous species require precision shots to avoid being splashed with poisonous blood, and constrictors need to be eliminated rapidly before they can establish a grip. His zombie provides excellent support, its spectral bolts ideally suited for targeting mobile foes.

[XP +9] [Snake Count: 2/5]

[XP +15] [Snake Count: 3/5]

The progression feels steady and manageable. Leon allocates his stat points as he earns them, concentrating on Vitality and Agility to enhance his survival. Each improvement brings subtle yet noticeable changes, making him feel more capable and resilient.

[Vitality: 30 → 32] [Agility: 21 → 23]

A new chamber opens before him—circular and domed, with multiple tunnel entrances lining its perimeter. Water drips steadily from somewhere above, creating a rhythmic sound that fills the air. The phosphorescent fungi here grow in intricate patterns that almost seem intentional.

Leon approaches the center of the chamber cautiously. His zombie flanks him on the left, keeping a watchful eye on the various passages. Something feels off about the acoustics; sounds echo strangely, as if the space is larger than it appears.

A low rumble emanates from the largest tunnel. This time, it isn't the slithering he encountered earlier but something heavier, moving deliberately. Leon raises his weapon as shadows shift at the mouth of the passage.

The mid-boss emerges in segments. First comes the massive triangular head, easily twice the size of his torso. Then, the thick, coiled body—muscular and covered in scales marked with glowing green bands that pulse with an inner light. The creature's length seems impossible in the confined space, filling Leon with awe and dread.

[Giant Viper - Level 12] [Warning: Venomous Bite, Crushing Coils, Acid Spit]

Leon's zombie opens fire immediately, spectral bolts hammering into the creature's flank. The shots leave smoking craters but barely seem to register. This is not a standard dungeon snake—it's something specifically bred for lethal purpose.

The viper's tail whips around with frightening speed. Leon dives aside just as the appendage pulverizes the stone where he was standing moments earlier. Debris rains down, with some pieces large enough to crack skulls.

Leon rolls to his feet and fires three rapid shots at the creature's head. His rounds strike the scales and deflect, sending sparks flying across the chamber. The viper's armor is too thick for standard ammunition to penetrate.

Acid sprays from the creature's mouth, hissing as it strikes the walls. Leon's zombie withdraws to avoid the corrosive attack, its blue flames dimming as toxic fumes fill the air.

The battle becomes a deadly dance of positioning and timing. Leon targets the softer scales along the viper's throat while his zombie provides distractions from multiple angles. The creature's size works against it in the confined chamber, limiting its ability to unleash full strength.

After twenty minutes of brutal exchange, Leon finds his opening. The viper rears back to unleash another acid attack, exposing the pale scales beneath its jaw. Leon's shot and his zombie's spectral bolt strike simultaneously.

The creature's head snaps back, dark blood erupting from the wound. It thrashes once more, then goes still, leaving Leon breathless and on edge, the adrenaline coursing through his veins.

[XP +89] [Giant Viper Defeated] [Stat Point Gained]

Leon leans against the chamber wall, breathing heavily. Sweat mingles with minor cuts from flying debris, stinging his skin. His zombie flickers with damage but remains operational—a testament to its resilience.

Partially hidden behind the viper's coils is a heavy iron coffer. Leon pries it open, revealing enchanted bracers that hum with protective energy and a pouch filled with silver coins. Excitement surges through him as he realizes the potential of his newfound treasures.

[Enchanted Bracers of Warding] [+5 Magic Resistance, +3 Physical Defense]

Leon straps on the bracers, feeling their energy settle into his bones. Every advantage matters in solo operations.

The far door of the chamber stands slightly ajar, the heavy stone moving on ancient hinges. As Leon approaches, a deep animal growl echoes from the darkness beyond. Something massive shifts in the shadows, chitinous limbs scraping against the carved walls.

Leon raises his manna gun, his heart racing as adrenaline surges through his system. In the gloom ahead, the dungeon's final boss emerges, step by calculated step.

The towering mantis fills the doorway, its bladed forearms gleaming with a cold light that hints at supernatural sharpness. Its compound eyes fix on Leon with a predatory intelligence, promising a fight unlike anything he has faced before. A mix of fear and determination courses through him as he prepares for the battle ahead.