Dungeon Hunter - Chapter 225: Explosion (3)

“World” is a game renowned for its remarkable freedom.

In “version 3.0”, I made the decision to maximize my focus on boosting magical abilities!

All stats now revolve around magic! But In turn, I embraced a substantial number of disadvantageous traits.

However, that is inconsequential. I am determined to forge the ultimate Wizard character, It matters little whether the character’s outward appearance resembles a walking corpse.

Yet… What is this?

I have suddenly transformed into that very character – a character with prodigious talent, yet unable to survive a single day without relying on drugs.

16 years old-- most boys would be falling in love, as their hormones all rise to unprecedented levels. Most boys at Riley's age would have dreams; dreams that will slowly grow into passion. Riley, however, at age 16... killed the world's number 1 superhero.

...[Inside an underground basement]“You are going to die for nothing, hahahaha,” the old man's voice thundered through the room, sending chills down my spine.Step.With a swift and ruthless motion, he lunged forward, his sword slicing through the air and slashing my throat, crimson droplets staining the darkness.“We'll see,” I whispered defiantly, my final words escaping as a mere breath against the impending darkness.Slowly, inexorably, my consciousness slipped away, and I descended into a deep, unfathomable slumber.“Huh!?” My eyes fluttered open, and I found myself seated in a bustling tavern, the air thick with laughter and the clinking of glasses.In front of me stood a captivating lady, her beauty juxtaposed with an angry furrow upon her brow, threatening to shatter the harmony of the jovial scene.“Don't follow me around!” Her words pierced the air like shards of ice, the intensity of her emotions palpable as she cast a resentful glare in my direction, before swiftly departing from the tavern....Am I trapped within the confines of a game? The fragments of my shattered common sense scattered before me, leaving me to question the very fabric of my reality.