“Harald?” I look at him, a bit worried.


    The closer we get to the tent, the more I notice how dirty it is. It seems deflated, having collapsed on its own, now lying almost completely flat among the flora. Transparent goo is smeared all over it, shining brightly and blinding me when beams of light filter through the trees. What instantly catches my eye is a long, thick, green-black tube draped over the top of the tent. What the heck? I ask myself.


    “These bastards! I almost killed a few, and now this is the present they left for me.”


    “Eew, is that what I think it is?” Astrid asks, disgusted.


    “Yes, prepare your weapons, but it’ll be a weird fight. Giant snails. They seem harmless until you realize they can move at the speed of an average human. Their shells are almost impenetrable, and...” Harald says angrily, pausing.


    “I wasted a lot of rounds.”


    “And what?” Michael steps up.


    “They have teeth. A lot of them... and by a lot, I mean a lot!”


    “Hmmmh.” Astrid looks around worriedly.


    “And how in the world are snails immune to bullets fired from a gun?” Mike continues.


    “These things produce a never-ending supply of sticky mucus. The mucus is so thick it absorbs every attack,” Harald explains, checking his cartridge.


    "I never got that close to them, but I believe that once they latch onto your head, they’ll slowly chew it off. You’ll either die from a slit throat or drown and suffocate in mucus." He continues.


    "I won’t believe it until I see it for myself," Mike replies, unsheathing his sabre and taking a defensive stance.


    I decide to examine my arms, touching them all over, pressing them to encourage myself for combat again. The pale girl doesn’t even finish counting her arrows or checking her bowstring when Mike yells and points his finger into the distance.


    “So it begins,” Harald notes.


    I briefly turn my gaze toward the point of interest. What the... Oh god, this is grotesque and terrifying at the same time. The creature is approaching us faster than Harald warned us.


    I blink slowly, trying to comprehend what’s happening before my eyes. I never imagined how strange a snail, about the height of an average human, would look while charging toward me.


    Its eyes point in all directions, and its pale skin, the color of freshly cut wood, expands in front of me. Its health bar swings over it, glowing a bright red.


    Helix Snail, level 36


    Its shell is rather thin from the sides, bright purple with a few orange spots, ending with a pointy tip that protects the bottom part of the snail’s foot. There’s no time to catch all the details. My view is abruptly shaded by a tall figure. Mike steps right in front of me, raising his sabres to shoulder height and taking an offensive stance.


    Astrid stands on the left. She gently sets an arrow on her bowstring and pulls it halfway back.


    Harald is on the right. He presses the button on his Glock, removes the magazine, flips it quickly in his muscular hand, brings it closer to his gray stubble, which seems coarse, and gently blows on the first bullet.


    He reinserts it swiftly.


    Was this necessary? I’m curious, but my lack of knowledge about firearms prevents me from thinking too much about it.


    I peek from behind Mike and grasp my hammer even tighter, but I don’t use the power I recently acquired. I’m saving that for the heat of combat.


    The snail approaches, and I see a droplet of sweat run down Mike’s head, from behind his ear to his neck. The googly eyes have no pupils and no visible mouth.


    The giant slug doesn’t even get a chance to attack before the fierce tall man strikes.


    He performs a quick upper slash at the right side of the slug’s head. The swift motion of the worn-out sabre suddenly stops. Pale body, covered in mucus, absorbs the power of the attack. The snail’s muscular body grips the blade, and with the help of the thick, gluey mucus, it stops the momentum completely. Mike struggles to pull it back.


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    He tosses his other sword behind him and, in the blink of an eye, grabs his weapon with both hands, trying to bend it down for leverage. Surprisingly, it doesn’t work.


    The snail curls its head to the side, locking the sword even more tightly.


    I step in, dodging to the left. Mike does the opposite and moves to the right.


    After a brief hesitation, he steps onto the snail’s body, and as expected, his sneaker gets fully soaked in mucus. The leverage doesn’t work, and he’s trapped by his right foot.


    Lucky for him, the snail decides to attack another victim.


    Holding my hammer at chest height, my eyes dart around, searching for the best spot to smash.


    Of course, my attempt is canceled instantly. The horrific sight in front of me grabs all my attention. An invisible slit appears somewhere in the middle of what is supposed to be the head of the slug. It opens quickly, revealing a mouth and three rows of tiny but sharp teeth. They’re all connected to the squishy, fleshy body. I don’t have a chance to do anything.


    All I see is the mouth rapidly latching onto my left knee. I don’t feel any sharp pain yet, as I expected.


    “Aaargh! You gotta be kidding me!” My already numb and damaged knee takes another hit. Adrenaline kicks in, and I barely feel any pain.


    *Muffled thud*


    An arrow hits the lower part of the snail’s body. It reacts as expected: zero damage, zero impact. The mucus absorbs everything, and the arrow simply merges with the wave of slime.


    “Old man?!” Mike turns to Harald, confused.


    “I won’t risk shooting any of you.” He jumps close and grabs the snail under its eye with his bare hand. His combat knife is already in his right hand. He fiddles with the cord connecting the huge eyeball to the body.


    The left eye shrinks and sinks into the body in a second.


    He somehow manages to slit the cord halfway, making it spew more glue and mucus. Its health bar depletes slightly.


    This makes the snail squirm, finally releasing my knee. A bit of fabric is missing from my pants, but I was lucky; there is no significant damage yet. A little blood is seeping out, but it’s negligible.


    Harald loses his knife in the process. He backs up a few steps and opens his inventory.


    Mike is the next to retreat. He lets go of his sabre and steps back, leaving his sneaker glued to the snail’s body.


    Meanwhile, my only reaction when this all starts is to bang the snail on its shell. I’m not using my ability yet, just my normal strength, with all my power evenly distributed.


    *Dong*


    The hammer bounces off the shell, and all the force shoots into my forearm, making it hurt like hell. I limp away and quickly check the damage.


    My knee, again! My sweatpants from the knee down are already stained with blood.


    The snail chooses its next victim. Its left eye pops out of its head and looks at Harald. Its right eye is limp, half-cut. The creature opens its wide mouth again, revealing rows of razor-sharp but tiny teeth.


    *Bang*


    *Bang*


    Astrid and I both cover our ears. The old man fires two shots into its mouth, but the bullets don’t penetrate. They’re stuck in the back of its head, in the mucus. Again, the health bar shrinks by the smallest fraction.


    Astrid takes advantage and shoots an arrow into its opened mouth. It sticks, and the snail struggles to remove it, the arrow blocking its mouth from closing.


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    I can’t help myself; I want to throw some heavy rocks! That’s the first thing that comes to mind. My curiosity spikes. I want to see how it will react, what could possibly happen. Would it spit them out?


    But now’s not the time for experiments. We need to kill it now! If there are more, we’re seriously screwed.


    While the snail struggles, a childhood memory flashes in my mind. If I remember correctly, I saw a nature documentary as a kid. The host talked about crustaceans and the spiral tip of their shells.


    Despite being the toughest part of their shells, it contains and protects the most vital organ located at the tip—their heart.


    “Harald, Astrid, cover me! Michael, stay by my side, ready to thrust!” I shout while limping toward the snail’s side. It’s still struggling with the arrow in its mouth.


    With a shrug, the old man questions the situation, glancing at Astrid.


    “Don’t worry. I believe in him,” Astrid says.


    I’m momentarily flattered by her confidence in me.


    “Show us, young man,” Harald says, raising his chin.


    Mike follows me without hesitation. I know he smells the chance for a kill.


    “Focus!”


    Channeling my power to my right arm, I feel my shoulder burning. My skin stretches, and my muscle mass shifts.


    I strain with all my might.


    The snail knows what’s coming and opens its mouth even wider, aiming for me.


    *Thud*


    Astrid fires another arrow into its mouth. But it wasn’t necessary.


    *Bang*