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“Kyaaak!”

A small monster, shaped like a pinecone, let out a shriek. I struck it a few more times with my club, making sure it was dead. Only after being completely flattened did the monster finally spit out an item and vanish.

[You have acquired Beginner Torong’s Blood.]

[Item Grade: F]

“Ugh, blood again?”

Torong’s Blood was a worthless junk item that no one would buy, even for a single silver coin. Still, it felt like a waste to leave it behind, so I poured it into a small vial and tucked it into my pocket.

“Will I ever find a gem today?”

The reason I was stuck in this beginner’s hunting ground wasn’t just because my level was only 7—it was also because I survived by selling the occasional gems dropped by beginner monsters.

Whether it was a Torong or a Slime, beginner monsters very rarely dropped Beginner Monster Gems, which were worth 1 gold each. I usually managed to get one about once every 5 to 6 months—and that was under the assumption that I spent every day grinding in the hunting ground.

“Kyaaak!”

[You have acquired Beginner Torong’s Blood.]

“Hwooong!”

[You have acquired Beginner Green Slime’s Tear.]

“Kyaaak!”

[You have acquired Beginner Torong’s Blood.]

Even after hunting for three more hours, all I got were worthless junk items that weren’t worth a single coin.

“It should be dropping soon…”

In three more days, it would be six months since I last obtained a Beginner Monster Gem. Normally, it didn’t take this long, but my luck had been exceptionally terrible this time.

Rent, food expenses, the cost of weapons that had to be replaced periodically no matter how frugally I lived, and medical bills whenever I got hurt… Money always flowed out, but hardly ever came in.

But who could I blame? If I had to resent someone, I should resent myself for being born without talent. If I had even a decent skill, I wouldn’t still be stuck at level 7 at the age of twenty-five.

In truth, I wasn’t alone. There were many like me. In my village alone, no one was above level 10. People with natural talent were the minority—there were far more people like me who would spend their entire lives hunting and never break past level 10.

They just weren’t as pathetic as I was.

“Kyaaak!”

[You have acquired Beginner Torong’s Blood.]

“Huff… Huff…”

Even beginner monsters could drain my stamina after a full day of hunting. If I had any usable skills, it would be different, but unfortunately, it was common knowledge that skills only unlocked after reaching level 20.

The tragedy of low-levels was their lack of stats.

Of course, things were different for high-levels. I had heard that some of them moved through high-tier hunting grounds and underground dungeons as if they were just their backyard. For example, the Hero’s party…

I had only heard of them through rumors, and for a brief moment, I imagined the Hero and his companions, but I quickly erased the thought from my mind. That world had nothing to do with me, anyway.

“Kwiik, kwiik.”

Just as I was about to call it a day and head home, I heard a familiar sound.

It was the sound of a Torong munching on grass.

Since I’d spotted one, I figured I might as well kill one last monster before leaving. Who knows? Maybe this one would finally drop a Beginner Monster Gem.

Even though I knew it probably wouldn’t, I couldn’t bring myself to give up. As I took a few steps forward, there it was—a small Torong, its spiky back facing me as it peacefully chewed on grass.

My body was exhausted, and my grip felt weak, but I forced myself to lift my club and swing down at the unsuspecting Torong enjoying its last meal.

“Kyiiiiiiiiiiik!”

Thud! Thud!

“Kyiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiik!”

“…What the…?”

Normally, a Torong would die after just one or two hits, letting out a sharp “Kyuuak!” as it perished.

But this time, instead of dying, it let out a sound I had never heard before.

Something felt off.

I hesitated, gripping my club tightly as the Torong turned around, huffing in rage.

Regular beginner Torongs had small bodies, and their eyes were just as small.

But this one…

Its eyes were huge, taking up nearly half of its face.

And worse—its pupils weren’t the usual green.

They were blood red.

A terrible sense of foreboding washed over me.

“W-Wait…!”

Not that telling a monster to wait would actually work.

The Torong, having been rudely interrupted during its meal, looked furious. Its body trembled with rage, its glare locked onto me.

I had never seen a Torong like this before.

Whatever it was, it definitely wasn’t a beginner Torong.

And there was no way a level 7 hunter like me could take on anything stronger than a beginner monster.

Conclusion: I needed to run.

The moment I realized this, I spun around and sprinted down the forest path.

“Why is something like that in a beginner’s hunting ground?!”

I ran with every ounce of strength I had, but the Torong, which I had never seen before, was shockingly fast.

Then—I felt it.

A sudden weight landing lightly on my shoulder.

Instinctively, I turned my head—and froze.

The Torong had its blood-red eyes shut, its mouth stretching into an eerie grin.

It was perched on my left shoulder.

“Aaaaahh!!”

I let out a piercing scream, but before I could shake it off, the Torong opened its mouth.

With a sharp hiss, a thick, red liquid sprayed from its maw.

It drenched my face, neck, and clothes, splattering onto the ground in heavy drips.

[You have been afflicted with the Rare Torong’s Curse.]

[Curse Strength: S-Rank]

[Time Limit: None]

I frantically wiped my face with my sleeve, but before I could even catch my breath, a system message appeared in front of me.

And it was far more terrifying than the disgusting, fishy stench of the red liquid clinging to my body.

A curse?

A curse?!

And not just any curse—a rare Torong’s curse.

Only then did I finally realize what I had carelessly tried to bludgeon to death.

A Rare Monster—a creature that could appear at any hunting ground, whether beginner, intermediate, advanced, or top-tier, at an extremely low probability.

If I had killed it, I might have gotten a jackpot item.

But since I failed, all I got was a curse—and the worst possible kind at that.

Even a D-rank curse would have been enough to make a level 7 like me desperately scrape together every coin I had just to run to a temple for purification.

But an S-rank curse?

And with no time limit? That meant it wouldn’t fade naturally over time.

Meanwhile, the Rare Torong that had cursed me had already vanished without a trace.

I wondered… What kind of rare item would it have dropped if I had managed to kill it?

The only reason I had the luxury to even entertain that thought was because I wasn’t feeling any pain from the curse at all.

“…Why?”

Normally, when afflicted with a curse, one would experience some kind of pain—whether it was the sensation of skin cracking apart, flesh tearing, or burning agony.

But right now, I felt perfectly fine.

“Do Rare Monsters’ curses usually have no pain…?”

The lack of pain reassured me, but at the same time, it left me feeling uneasy.

Still, I decided to think positively—if there was no pain, that was a good thing.

Curing an S-rank curse would require at least several dozen gold coins at a temple.

And for a low-level adventurer like me, who barely earned enough to survive each day, that kind of money was simply out of reach.

Pushing aside my unease, I left the beginner’s hunting ground and made my way back to Spring Village.

A place I had never once left since the day I was born.

True to its name, Spring Village was a warm, serene town, surrounded by lush nature that made it feel like perpetual springtime.

The people who lived there were mostly like me—low-level adventurers who had never reached level 10.

It was a peaceful, remote village, one that stronger adventurers rarely even visited, and one that had never seen any major incidents.

And yet… as I walked through town in my current state, I could feel the stares from every direction.

The red curse liquid from the Rare Torong had soaked my entire body, and even to my own eyes, it looked exactly like blood.

To the villagers, it must have seemed like I was completely drenched in it.

“Aine! What happened?! Are you hurt?!”

As soon as I stepped into Deer Inn, where I paid rent every three months, the owner, Malri, let out a gasp of horror.

Malri was both my childhood friend and someone lucky enough to inherit the inn from her parents.

She was also the mother of a pair of mischievous twin girls and, at the same time, a terrifying landlady—the kind who would march into a tenant’s room with a kitchen knife if they were even slightly late on their rent.

Of course, the knife was only for intimidation purposes.

But still—if someone was standing at your door, glaring at you while holding a cleaver, there weren’t many people who wouldn’t feel threatened.

“I-It’s not my blood.”

Technically, it wasn’t blood at all.

Probably.

Most likely.

It was just… the cursed regurgitation of a Rare Torong.

“…Then what is it?”

“I got cursed.”

“Gasp.”

As I explained the situation to Malri, her expression gradually turned more serious.

“Shouldn’t you go to the temple immediately? Even if it doesn’t hurt now, it’s a Rare Monster’s Curse—who knows what could happen later?”

“I don’t have money for purification… I haven’t found any gems lately.”

“I can lend you 5 gold. No, wait… 3 gold. Actually… 1 gold.”

…She might as well have just kept quiet.

It was an odd feeling—somewhere between gratitude and deep annoyance.

When I didn’t respond, Malri kept lowering the amount she was willing to lend.

“1 gold… 90 silver… 70 silver… 30 silver…?”

I cut her off, telling her to drop it, and made my way upstairs to my room on the second floor.

Some friend she was.

But then again…

She was my only friend in this village.

I decided not to resent her for clearly having no intention of lending me money.

Instead, I just hoped—prayed—that the curse wouldn’t start hurting so that I wouldn’t have to go to the temple at all.

I washed up, climbed into bed, and tried to sleep.

And then, in the dead of night—

I woke up writhing in agony.

“Hgh… Ahh!”

Normally, a curse would bring some form of pain—whether it was the feeling of skin splitting apart, flesh being torn, or burning agony.

And the Rare Torong’s Curse?

It made me feel all three.

If I hadn’t been relatively strong-willed despite my low level, I might have actually tried to kill myself just to escape the unbearable torment.

Hearing my screams, Malri, her husband, and their daughters rushed into my room.

They stood frozen, completely speechless, as they watched me writhe in agony, tears, snot, and drool spilling down my face.

* * *

It was still early, but I didn’t care.

The Rare Torong’s Curse had been so excruciating that I couldn’t afford to wait.

“Priest! Priest!”

Thankfully, despite the early hour, the priests had already opened the temple doors.

They were holding brooms, likely in the middle of cleaning.

“What happened?”

Seeing my swollen, tear-streaked face, the priests stared at me in shock.

I wasted no time in explaining everything.

The more I spoke, the grimmer their expressions became.

A sinking feeling of dread settled in my stomach.

“…Why? How much is the purification fee?”

How much were they planning to charge me that they looked so tense?

But the priests simply shook their heads.

“An S-rank curse… is beyond our level.”

“C-Can’t you at least try?”

“We already know it won’t work. We won’t waste our divine power on a pointless attempt.”

Instead, they recommended that I travel to a temple in Summer Village, a larger settlement with higher-ranking priests.

They didn’t even bother trying.

Honestly?

It was better this way.

At least they were honest.

Some priests might have taken my money, pretended to purify me, failed, and sent me away anyway.

Still, as I was practically thrown out of the temple, I felt like I was going to lose my mind.

What choice did I have?

I had to prepare for the journey to Summer Village.

The pain from last night had been so unbearable, so utterly terrifying, that I was willing to leave Spring Village for the first time in my life just to escape it.

* * *

“Aine, are you sure you’ll be okay traveling alone?”

Just then, a merchant caravan was preparing to leave after delivering supplies to our village.

Since they were headed to Summer Village, Malri’s husband—who knew them well—managed to get me a free ride on their wagon.

…Of course, Malri took the opportunity to charge me a 50-silver “introduction fee.”

I glared at her shameless and stingy expression before asking, with a tiny bit of hope in my voice:

“Malri, will you come with me?”

“Yeah, no. That’s not happening.”

…Right.

I should’ve known better.

There was no time to argue.

I had no idea when the curse would strike again.

Without another word, I turned my back on Malri and her family, climbed into the wagon, and let out a slow breath as the caravan set off.