The two giant horns are sticking up on its head. One is smaller than the other.
They are shiny, with a rough, bumpy texture that makes them feel incredibly strong and hard.
On top of the creature lies the health bar, shining bright and steady, with a text above it: Rhinoceros Beetle, Level 60
Level 60? Guess we’re even.
Or... wait, no, how the hell could I forget?
“Stats,” I think to myself, and the window opens in my mind.
I see one point. Insignificant, but still, there’s no way I will wait another 50 or who knows how many levels to mix my own skill. 44 levels until I can get it, maybe. I summarize my stuff pretty quickly as the beast sniffs around.
Maybe even less—Mike claims he got his at 40, but maybe he was lying.
<table style="border-collapse: collapse; width: 36.6613%; background-color: rgba(52, 73, 94, 1)" border="1">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td style="width: 33.466%">Markus Hale</td>
<td style="width: 33.466%">foreigner</td>
<td style="width: 33.1645%">level 61</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 33.466%">Strength</td>
<td style="width: 33.466%">60</td>
<td style="width: 33.1645%">Focus [Bonus Skill]</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 33.466%">Agility</td>
<td style="width: 33.466%">3</td>
<td style="width: 33.1645%">no skill</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 33.466%">Willpower</td>
<td style="width: 33.466%">4</td>
<td style="width: 33.1645%">no skill</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 33.466%">Endurance</td>
<td style="width: 33.466%">7</td>
<td style="width: 33.1645%">no skill</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
An insignificant upgrade to my endurance somehow makes me feel like my bruised knee is a little better, as are my arms. Placebo or not, at least it lightens my mood a bit. Topping the creature by one level? We should at least be able to match its strength. And since the group is here too, we can compensate for the size difference. Well, at least the old man will help. I comfort myself with these thoughts while gripping my hammer with a sweaty palm.
<hr>
Suddenly, the area brightens, as if someone switched on the lights in the middle of the forest.
My head tilts up instinctively, seeing the rainbow of colors.
“Huh?”
I peek from the right side of the boulder to take in the full picture. A few rays of sunlight slip through the canopy, reflecting off the bug''s multicolored, shiny armor.
It’s enough to light up the entire area. It reminds me of the galaxy projector I had at home. That thing would splash colorful beams of light across my ceiling, creating the perfect atmosphere.
Now, those colors are being projected onto the surroundings, flickering as the armored bug moves and reflects everything.
“Nice. If we die here, at least it’ll be a with style,” I mutter to myself while frowning.
I can’t get the thought of death out of my head—mostly the idea of the pain that comes with it. But knowing I’ve still got plenty of fingers left, I toy with the idea of going full YOLO. Though honestly, it’s not even YOLO anymore.
There’s no time to dwell on it. Waiting for the bug to make its first move won’t do me any good. I clench my teeth and start channeling my power again, my muscles fueled by the placebo effect that my arms are sturdier now. Muscle mass surges into my limbs, and in a split second, I decide to go for a jump attack.
I remember my fight with the Exiled boss again, using what I learned from that experience—channeling power mid-air into my arms before landing a blow. This will be my strategy now.
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Maybe I can mount the bug and score some hits on top of it. That would be better than trying to attack its armored legs, which could easily stomp a hole in me.
As I focus on the muscle, I glance briefly at Harald. He’s crouching, gun ready, but not moving a muscle. A throbbing vein on his forehead shows me just how exhausting this crouched position is for him.
A quick glance at Mike and Astrid—they’re hiding behind the boulder, one trying to protect the other. The pressure is building just right.
My calves burn with anticipation. It’s time to peek out and position myself.
A thought flashes through my mind—why is the giant not attacking yet? The bug is moving around cautiously, avoiding the dung balls, and its loud footsteps are now echoing into the distance.
What the hell? This cover isn’t stealthy enough to evade detection. Maybe the bigger it is, the dumber it gets?
I peek out from behind the boulder again, ready to jump, feeling like I’ve got a diaper under my pants.
The bug locks eyes with me, its stance now fully offensive—like an animal moments before a pounce. It reminds me of a cat, or a dog, or even a tarantula about to strike.
No way. This can’t be happening! I whisper to myself, eyes wide with fear.
The behemoth suddenly surges with terrifying speed. The moment its massive, pillar-like legs dig into the ground, I know it’s coming for me.
It’s too fast. My only reaction is to release all the tension in my legs and launch myself skyward.
*Whoosh*
I shoot up, nearly reaching half the height of the surrounding trees.
The bug closes the gap between its horn and the dung boulder I was hiding behind in a split second. Its horn pierces the heavy, dry object like it’s made of porcelain, shattering it into large chunks.
I watch from above as I begin to descend. The longer horn remains solid and steady after smashing through the boulder, not even a scratch or dust on it. Its glossy surface reflects everything around it like nanoparticles.
The view is equal parts awe-inspiring and terrifying—a psychedelic, rainbow-colored beetle below me, and I’ve got no time to think. The only thought in my mind: Don’t drop the hammer, or it’s over.
My eyes dart, focusing on where I’ll inevitably land.
Please, not the horn! I clench my butt.
As I fall, I see where I’m going to hit. I will land squarely on the beetle’s colorful armored back.
*Bang* *Bang*
Two consecutive shotgun blasts slam into the creature’s side. In the same jerky, stop-motion-like way bugs often move, the giant beetle suddenly shifts its attention to Harald, completely ruining my landing plan.
Fuck!” I grunt through clenched teeth as a dull pain radiates from my tailbone.
With my left arm wrapped tightly around the beetle’s massive horn, I find myself sitting awkwardly between the long and short ones.
For a moment, I’m just relieved I didn’t get impaled. That was way too close. Phew.
<hr>
The bug suddenly veers away from Harald, thrashing as it goes. If he hadn’t dodged, it would’ve been fatal.
I don’t give him much chance of avoiding a bull-like attack like that otherwise.
Gripping the horn with my left arm, I know the only way I can avoid being thrown is to use my power. My body instinctively shifts muscle energy, tightening my grip.
The bug lurches in every direction, violently shaking its head.
The smooth, shiny surface of the horn doesn’t help, but my sweat-drenched sleeve manages to give me just enough friction to hold on.
My left arm is locked onto the horn, while my right arm flails around, gripping the hammer for dear life.
My lower back is resting against the smaller horn. Wait, is it broken? I glance over my shoulder but can’t see it clearly. Leaning back, I feel it bend under pressure.
What the hell? Is it flexible? The horn has some give to it as I test it with my weight.
I have no clue what’s going on around me. All I hear are the distant screams of Mike and Astrid. I can’t make out what they’re shouting, but I know they’re trying to tell me something. I’m too overwhelmed to comprehend.
*Bang* *Bang* another pair of shots from Harald’s gun.
*Chuck-chuck* the familiar sound of his pump-action reload, followed by another deafening *Bang*.
He’s relentless, firing shot after shot at the beetle.
“Harald!” I scream, terrified for my life as the bug thrashes even harder.
“Are you insane?!” I yell, biting my tongue in the process.
“Fuck! That hurts!” I think, swallowing saliva to assess the damage.
I taste a little blood, but not enough to worry about bleeding out—at least not yet.
Why the hell is Harald risking hitting me too with its wide dispersion? I grip the horn tightly, frantically checking my body for any signs of injury to make sure I haven’t been accidentally shot.
*Bang*
“What the fu—” I swallow more blood. "Can you just fucking stop?!" Is the health bar even going down?
The bug kicks and spins even more frantically now. I want to check the health bar, but my head’s spinning, and my vision’s going blurry.
This wild, unexpected rodeo ride is taking its toll on me. All I can do is cling to the horn, waiting for an opportunity to strike—or flee.
Suddenly, a dreadful buzzing noise rises from behind me, increasing in intensity.
“Oh god.”