He took a deep breath, the scent of ozone and honeysuckle a strange perfume for the power he was about to unleash.
"System. Evolve this piece of crap."
The familiar, ethereal chime echoed inside his skull.
A translucent blue screen shimmered into existence, its light visible only to him.
[You are about to perform a Critical Evolution on 'Crude Linen Robe'. This action is irreversible. This will consume 1 Primal Essence. Confirm?]
"Confirm," he said without a shred of hesitation.
The world seemed to still.
One single, precious point of Primal Essence vanished from his reserves.
A blinding cocoon of SSS-rank light, a white so pure it felt holy, erupted from his hand.
It didn't explode outwards.
It folded in on itself, consuming the shabby robe.
The coarse, beige-coloured linen dissolved into threads of pure energy.
They rewove themselves at a speed his eyes could barely follow, forming a new garment.
It was no longer a flimsy robe.
It was a form-fitting, dark grey tunic, surprisingly thick and resilient to the touch, with faint, silvery runes stitched into the collar and cuffs that seemed to pulse with a gentle, protective energy.
The transformation was over in seconds.
The light faded, leaving the new creation resting in his hand.
It felt heavy, substantial, and thrummed with a power the crude robe could never have dreamed of.
[Critical Evolution Successful!]
['Crude Linen Robe' has evolved into 'Vanguard's Tunic +1']
Ethan's eyes widened as he read the new stats, a hysterical laugh bubbling in his chest.
[Rank: Crude -> Steel]
[Defense: +40 (Previously +2)]
[Durability: 150/150]
[New Special Effect (Critical Evolution): Novice's Vigor - The wearer regenerates 20 HP per second while in combat. This effect is doubled outside of combat.]
"Holy…"
He couldn't finish the sentence.
His base defense was a measly 5.
This tunic gave him 40.
Forty.
His total defense was now 45.
He looked at the gash on his arm.
As if on cue, a soothing, warm energy washed over him.
The pain vanished.
The skin stitched itself back together before his very eyes.
[+20 HP]
His health bar shot up to 100/100 in less than a second.
He stared at the tunic, then back at his own status.
The game had changed.
No, he had just broken the game.
With this much defense and this insane regeneration, what could possibly kill him?
He stripped off his torn, bloody hoodie without a second thought and pulled the Vanguard's Tunic over his head.
It settled over him with a comfortable weight, the runes at his collar glowing faintly before dimming.
He felt… safe.
Secure.
Invincible.
A sudden rustle in the undergrowth nearby made him spin around, his evolved sword flashing into a defensive stance.
A blur of black fur shot out from a bush, aiming straight for his throat.
Ethan instinctively raised an arm to block.
He braced for the impact, for the searing pain of claws or teeth.
Clink.
The sound was… disappointing.
Like a pebble hitting a metal plate.
He looked down.
A creature that looked like a sleek, shadowy weasel with oversized, venom-dripping fangs was clinging to his forearm, its claws scrabbling uselessly against the fabric of his new tunic.
He used [Scrutiny].
[Shadowfang Weasel]
[Level: 2]
[Rank: Iron]
[HP: 80/80]
[Attack: 25]
[Defense: 5]
[A swift and stealthy predator. Its fangs carry a weak paralytic venom.]
Attack 25.
His defense was 45.
A notification popped up, almost comically.
[-0 Damage]
[-0 Damage]
[-0 Damage]
The weasel seemed confused, its predatory fury turning into bewildered panic as its ferocious bites accomplished nothing.
Ethan just stared at it.
"Is that all you've got?" he asked the monster.
It let out a desperate hiss.
"Pathetic."
He didn't even bother using the flat of his blade.
He simply swung his sword, and the pommel connected with the weasel's skull with a dull, wet thud.
CRACK.
[You have slain a Level 2 Shadowfang Weasel!]
[You have earned 15 EXP.]
[You have earned 2 Primal Essence.]
The creature's corpse dropped to the forest floor.
Ethan didn't even look at the loot, some worthless fangs.
He was too busy processing the implications.
He had just face-tanked a monster's attack without taking a single point of damage.
The fear that had been a cold, constant companion since he arrived in this world was beginning to evaporate, replaced by an electrifying sense of absolute confidence.
"Alright," he said to himself, a grim smile on his face. "Time to see how much the next level costs."
He focused on the [Vanguard's Tunic +1].
"System, what's the cost to evolve this again?"
[To evolve 'Vanguard's Tunic +1' to +2 requires 10 Primal Essence.]
Ethan's smile faltered slightly.
Ten.
The first evolution was one. The second was ten.
A tenfold increase.
He had 103 Primal Essence now. He could afford it, but this was a clear message from the System.
Power came at a cost, and that cost was exponential.
"So, no more one-and-done upgrades," he muttered. "I need to be a hunter now. A farmer."
He looked around the Gloomwood, the eerie twilight no longer threatening.
The dripping branches, the scuttling sounds, the monstrous shapes in the shadows… they weren't dangers anymore.
They were resources.
They were walking, snarling bags of Primal Essence.
He hefted his [Evolved Iron Sword +1], its wicked edge gleaming.
"Okay, then," he declared to the silent woods. "Let's get to work."
He moved with a purpose he'd never felt in his life, his new tunic a suit of impenetrable armor, his sword an extension of his will.
The Gloomwood had just become his personal farm.
And it was time for the harvest.