"He’s got it, huh! And showing it off, too, the bastard!"

  "That’s the guy they tried to kill, right? Supposedly."

  The man nodded solemnly, his eyes fixed on James. He looked like he wanted to strangle him, though with the armor on, that would be a bit difficult.

  "Yeah... well, maybe it’ll happen again."

  "What the fuck are you saying?" the man stammered.

  "He just screwed everyone over. What do you mean, what am I saying, for fuck's sake?"

  Those and other voices followed him as he emerged from the darkness. Echoes of the day before.

  Of course, he was in the hotel bed. Again. Safe from the murderous intent of the crowd. At least for the moment. The threats and the hate-filled voices vanished quickly, along with the remnants of the nightmare.

  The truth was, he had been lucky to get out of there without a public lynching. That was what had really scared him. So, a handful of words was nothing, objectively speaking. Besides, he had asked for it himself. Wasn't that true? He could have chosen not to bring out the armor, not to reveal the truth like that.

  While it was true that it wouldn't have remained a secret for long, he hadn't needed to make it so easy for those who would go to investigate, ignorant of the truth. He could have returned to the hotel quietly to plan. But he had done it anyway. Because part of him wanted everyone to know. That he had come out on top. That he was better than them. Even if it had just been luck.

  He wanted to savor the triumph and the envy again. But he didn't do it solely to satisfy his ego. Of course not. It was important that everyone knew. Everyone. And his attackers. The ones who were still alive. The ones who were still alive.

  James got out of bed and went into the bathroom. He washed his face and looked in the mirror.

  The fatigue on his face was evident, but that wasn't the only thing he saw there. There was also a spark. A glint he hadn't seen in years. In fact, he had spent years avoiding looking at his own reflection. That had changed without him noticing, overnight, with the same naturalness with which he had stopped doing it in the first place.

  "Into the fray another day," he said to his own reflection.

  That was something he might have said even back then, but with the feeling that the world was crashing down on him, that he had to do everything possible simply to keep his head above water. Now it was different. Now he couldn't wait to find out what the blank page stretching out to the horizon held for him.

  James shot toward the portal like a beast released from its cage. He went through it.

  It was a strange sensation, like sinking into gelatin. And on the other side, a forest awaited him. It wasn't strange to see a mountainous village, but clearly, this was not a forest of this world. The fantasy element was obvious at first glance, just like with that castle in the sky.

  To begin with, the trees were too big—completely gigantic. Strange sounds could be heard in the distance. Birds... they sounded like birds, but they were sounds he had never heard before; nothing like them existed anywhere on planet Earth. He would bet a hand on it.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  Then there was the most striking thing of all: he had no idea what they were, but the trees were teeming with these things. Viscous things. They looked nothing like branches. And they were glowing. Some an orangey hue, others more green. In any case, they illuminated the darkness in which this forest of giants should have been plunged, with trees so large they blocked out the sunlight.

  Anyway, the shape of the dungeon didn't matter. It was what it was. He hadn't come here for anything in particular, just to test his new armor and see what he could get to improve his situation. So today, the danger was minimal. That didn't mean much, given how dangerous this job was; "minimal" was still uncertain.

  Something fell on top of him from the treetops. He didn't even see it. He reacted before it could land, cutting the something in half with a single slash. Whatever fell to the ground continued to writhe and spew blood, while its fingers reached out toward him as if to finish the job.

  The monster, whatever it was, vanished upon dying. It left no loot behind. But truthfully, he didn't care; killing it had been his own loot. He had reacted to his perception with a speed that couldn't be expected from a normal person. To kill that thing, he had run up the trunk of a tree and jumped while brandishing the sword. Everything perfect. Without hesitating for an instant. Without screwing up in the slightest.

  It was obvious that this was something he wouldn't have been capable of without this armor. His stats were the same as they were last time; they didn't go up just by putting on the armor, but he felt stronger anyway. More agile and faster. More everything.

  Anyone would feel on top of the world after receiving such a substantial power upgrade. But it was a special feeling for another reason, one he didn't usually notice. The fact was that his mind had always been good; only his body hadn't been up to the task. Now he had both at his disposal. Like a being without weaknesses, without holes.

  That, of course, wasn't true. Everyone had weaknesses. Everyone died. But he felt that way, which was what counted. He had thanked Alma, but not enough. It was as if he had been reborn.

  "Here I am celebrating again when I’ve barely crossed the starting line," he told himself, looking around while still crouching, like a panther lying in wait for its next prey. "This could get ugly with or without armor."

  That was true, but it didn't mean he was going to turn back. Quite the opposite. James ventured deeper into the forest.

  Not long after...

  "Help!" A desperate scream broke the silence.

  Normally, James would look the other way, assuming someone else would handle it. But they might be the only people for miles. He might be the only person even in a position to decide whether to help him. He didn't have to do it, to risk his life for another person, but he decided to follow the voice and take a look. At least see what had happened to him. Or what was happening to him. Rather: it wouldn't be a surprise to him.

  Another one of the monsters stood in his path. They were like living trees, and instead of blood, they bled sap. Anyway, he cut it down without hesitation, barely blinking. Most importantly, without effort.

  He had chosen a dungeon with a recommended level twice his current level. A greater challenge, but not a suicide mission. He was aware that he had just started, but all the monsters so far had fallen so easily... It hadn't even been a fight. And all thanks to this armor. To Alma.

  But what awaited him here wasn't a physical threat. The poor son of a bitch was simply sinking into quicksand.

  "Help me! Thank God, for a moment I thought you were a dungeon monster."

  "I'm here," James muttered, evaluating the distance. "But I don't see a rope or anything... I don't know how..."

  "Can't you reach me from there to grab my arm?" the man shouted.

  "Of course not," he replied, looking around. There still had to be something.

  He didn't care much about other people, about strangers, but he wasn't in a hurry to watch one die in front of him. And certainly not in such a horrible way. He’d had enough with the son of a bitch devoured in the spider realm. And he had only seen the final result of that. He couldn't find anything, no matter how hard he looked.

  Fuck, am I really going to watch him drown? he thought.

  But it wasn't his fault. No one could say he hadn't tried. Most likely, no one would find out in the first place. Even so, the idea turned his stomach. He was selfish, an asshole maybe, but he wasn't a monster.