The high-pitched screech of the Dungeon Rats behind him was better fuel than any stimulant.
Ren ran, the limp body of the dead rat slung over his shoulder. It was heavy, throwing off his balance with every step. The stench of wet fur and blood filled his nostrils—a nauseating mix of promise and danger. Behind him, the furious patter of twelve tiny paws on stone closed in, a rhythm of death echoing through the narrow tunnels.
The [Cowardice] skill gave his legs surprising speed, but it wasn't magic. He felt his small lungs burning, a sharp pain blooming in his side. The goblin body, fast in short bursts, had no endurance. And the weight of his prey was an anchor, dragging him down.
The screeches were closer. He risked a glance back for a split second. Two of the creatures were less than five meters away, their red eyes glowing with hungry fury. They were gaining.
I won't make it, he thought, panic starting to erode his logic. They're faster. They're not carrying anything.
He took a sharp turn into another tunnel, the rat's body swinging and slamming against the wall, nearly making him trip. He recovered, heart hammering. The tunnel ahead widened, and his gamer's memory—a mental map forged over countless hours—sparked with hope.
He recognized this place. The "Despair Chasm."
Ahead, the tunnel ended abruptly in an abyss. A dark fissure split the cave floor, at least fifteen meters across. The bottom was swallowed by darkness. The only way across was an old, rotting wooden bridge—a relic from the mining days. In-game, players fell here all the time if they weren't careful.
His mind processed everything instantly. Mine Wooden Bridge. Durability: Low. Structural Support Points: 2. Status: Decayed. It was a trap waiting to be used.
He didn't slow down. He sprinted straight onto the bridge, the sound under his feet shifting from stone to the hollow thump of rotten wood. The entire structure groaned under his weight and the rat's. Planks creaked dangerously. The bridge swayed, a sickening motion over the dark abyss.
The rats didn't hesitate. Driven by pack instinct, they followed him onto the bridge, claws scraping wood. The lead rat—the fastest—was only a meter away. Ren could feel its hot, foul breath.
He was halfway across. He wasn't fast enough. The extra weight… the weight of the rat was killing him.
A brutal, instant choice presented itself. Food or life.
With a growl of frustration, Ren threw the dead rat off his shoulder. It hit the planks with a heavy thud, right at the feet of the lead rat.
The creature stopped instantly. Its chase-fury flipped into something more primal: hunger. It pounced on the carcass, teeth tearing into flesh. The other two reached it a second later and, instead of continuing the chase, joined the frenzy, fighting over the unexpected meal.
The distraction. That was all he needed.
Freed of the burden, Ren exploded forward. He sprinted the remaining meters, legs light and fast now. He leapt the final stretch, landing safely on the stone edge on the other side.
He turned. The three rats were still piled over the carcass in the middle of the bridge, screeching and biting in their greed.
They had completely forgotten him.
Ren looked at the base of the bridge on his side. One of the main wooden support pillars—just like he remembered from the wiki—was rotted at its base, barely connected to the rock.
He started kicking. His clawed foot slammed into the rotten wood. Once. Twice. Splinters flew. On the third hit, with a loud crack echoing through the chasm, the wood gave way.
The tension in the bridge shifted catastrophically. With a long groan of splitting timber, Ren's side of the bridge collapsed. The planks tilted downward at a steep angle.
The rats finally realized the danger. They stopped fighting over the food and tried to retreat, but their claws couldn't grip the slanted wood. The carcass Ren had killed slid first, dropping into the darkness.
Then, with a final screech of terror, the three Dungeon Rats slipped and plunged into the abyss, vanishing into the silent dark.
Silence.
He was alone. He was safe.
He had won.
But his stomach growled—louder and more painful than before. He looked at the broken edge of the bridge, then into the abyss that had swallowed his hard-earned meal. He survived… but he was back to square one. Hungry.
A system window blinked, indifferent to his dilemma.
[You used a resource (item/body) as bait to manipulate enemy behavior and used the environment to neutralize a superior threat.]
[Skill Unlocked: Improvisation (Rudimentary) Lv. 1]
Description: Your ability to use objects and the environment in unconventional ways to gain a tactical advantage. Slightly increases success rate in "improvised" actions.
The notification was a hollow victory. He was a survivor. An improviser. But he was a hungry improviser.
The first rule of survival was victory.
But he was learning the second rule—the harsher one.
At the bottom of the food chain, victory often tasted like loss.