Kana weighed every outcome before taking a single step.

  She could burn the camp down.

  A swift blaze in the frozen night—chaos, confusion, panic.

  But too many would survive, slipping into the dark, regrouping then most likely rebuild their territory.

  That was the problem.

  This must be a purge.

  None of them must live.

  When the last of the prisoners vanished into the shadows, Kana moved.

  Her heartbeat slowed—not from fear, but from focus. Zia’s breathing technique guided her muscles, controlling every rhythm, every tremor. Her footsteps melted into the winter soil, silent as drifting frost.

  The first hut held four men.

  Two snored loudly.

  Two never made it to bed, sprawled drunkenly across the floor.

  Kana’s dagger whispered across each throat.

  Warm blood sprayed across her hand—hot in the freezing air—before pooling black on the frost-bitten wood.

  The metallic smell hit her immediately.

  She swallowed.

  It left a taste in her mouth she hated.

  This wasn’t combat.

  This was an execution.

  But she forced her jaw to unclench.

  If I hesitate now…

  Someone she knows could be taken someday.

  Perhaps one of the orphans.

  Perhaps one of the students.

  Perhaps one of the villagers.

  She continued.

  One hut.

  Then another.

  And another.

  One.

  Two.

  Four.

  She stopped counting after twenty.

  Some bandits woke at the last second, eyes widening in drunken clarity—only to fade just as fast. A few sobered instantly, gripping weapons with trembling hands, trying to stand, trying to fight.

  Kana cut through them without using a single skill.

  Their swings were clumsy, their stances weak, their instincts dull.

  All of them collapsed in the same wet, soft sound as the sleeping ones.

  The guilt built with every strike.

  But so did the resolve.

  If I stop them now, it ends here. If I don’t… many more will suffer.

  She exhaled fog into the night and approached the largest building.

  The wooden structure towered over the camp like a warped mansion, with carved beams and reinforced supports—a lord’s home built from stolen labor. The walls were decorated with trophies: pelts, horns, bones. A grotesque display.

  Inside, her [High Awareness] could feel everyone inside.

  First floor:

  —Six drunk bodies.

  —One awake… but heavily intoxicated, stumbling between tables.

  Second floor:

  —Three guards sober as stone.

  Standing firm outside the leader’s door or perhaps someone important.

  She slipped inside the first floor.

  The drunk bandits barely stirred.

  One managed to lift his head before Kana slit his throat.

  He reached toward her with a shaking hand—more confused than afraid—before collapsing with a muffled thud.

  Blood pooled across the wooden planks, flowing around discarded mugs and half-eaten food.

  Kana didn’t pause.

  She ascended the stairs slowly, letting her steps creak.

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  The three guards jerked to alertness immediately, spinning toward her.

  “What are you doing here?” one barked, stepping forward, blade raised. “Don’t move!”

  Their stance was already in defence..

  Kana could tell they were much higher level than the people she killed. Most likely the highest in their ranks.

  Kana didn’t waste words.

  She lunged—not using any skill, simply moving faster than they expected. Her feet slid across the floorboards, her dagger striking in tight arcs.

  A slash at the throat.

  A thrust under a rib.

  A twist into an artery.

  Vital points—every strike flawless.

  They didn’t even fall at the same time.

  They collapsed in sequence, like dominos tipping over.

  Seconds.

  Barely seconds.

  They were probably somewhere in level 8 and 9.

  Kana exhaled.

  The door behind them cracked open. A tired voice grumbled, “What is happening here—?”

  Sun stepped forward, scratching his eyes.

  His hair was a mess.

  His shirt was half-open.

  And when he finally noticed Kana standing above his fallen guards—

  His face was drained of color.

  He lunged for the nearest weapon on the floor.

  He never reached it.

  [Dagger Pierce]

  Kana’s blade cut through his shoulder with a sickening slice. The blood erupted hot against the cold air, painting the wooden floor.

  Sun howled and stumbled backward.

  Kana tackled him, pinning him against the floorboards, dagger pressing against his throat.

  She leaned closer.

  Her voice was cold as the breeze of winter.

  “Good evening to you, Mister Sun.”

  …

  “You scream like a girl,” Kana said, her voice cold and deep, void of emotion.

  Sun’s breath hitched. His deep, commanding tone—so boastful just hours earlier—had shriveled into a squeaky, almost childlike pitch. “W-what do you want? I’ll give you anything. Coin? Dungeon items? I have it all!”

  Kana stared at him with flat red eyes. She didn’t believe a single word he said—but she had noticed one thing: she had yet to find the bandits’ treasury. With an operation this large, it had to be enormous.

  “Alright,” Kana said slowly. “Where are they?”

  Sun blinked. “Where are—? Give me your price and I’ll bring it to you!”

  “I will only take what I can carry.” Kana stepped closer, dagger still dripping with the last guard’s blood. “Tell me where you hide it.”

  Sun swallowed loudly. His confidence collapsed. He lifted a trembling hand and pointed toward the largest room beneath the hanging weapon displays.

  “It—it’s in there. Only I can open it.”

  Kana grabbed him by the collar, her strength lifting him easily despite their difference in size. She threw him into the room like he weighed nothing more than a sack of grain.

  “Then open it,” she commanded.

  Sun spat blood and muttered under his breath, “Damn it. If only I had a sword…”

  Kana twirled her dagger between her fingers, an expression that could make anyone shiver.

  Sun moved quickly, driven by fear more than loyalty. He knelt on a decorative rug, pulled it aside, and pressed his palm against an oddly shaped notch in the floor. A soft clicking sound responded—then a section of the wooden planks retracted, revealing a staircase spiraling into darkness.

  “This is—”

  Kana didn’t need to hear the rest.

  Her dagger moved.

  A single slice.

  A wet gasp.

  A spray of crimson.

  Sun collapsed halfway over the opening, lifeless before he hit the first step.

  Kana stepped over him and descended.

  The air below was colder—much colder—thick with the smell of metal and old wood. Her footsteps echoed faintly as she reached the bottom.

  Then she saw it.

  A vault carved directly into the earth, lit by faintly glowing stones placed in tall stands. Dozens of wooden chests were stacked neatly against the walls, every lid emblazoned with crude symbols of the Sun Group. The sheer volume of them made Kana pause.

  This much coin…

  Is it taken from travelers for over a decade?

  She opened the nearest chest.

  Gold.

  Piled to the brim.

  Each coin glimmering sharply in the dim light.

  She opened another—silver.

  Another—rare gems.

  Another—small magical trinkets stripped from victims.

  There were dungeon items too:

  —potions sealed in crystal bottles,

  —rings humming with weak enchantments,

  —broken relic pieces still saturated with mana.

  But at the center of the vault, enclosed in a glass case, was something different.

  Something precious.

  Kana’s breath caught—not in awe, but in surprise.

  A skill book!

  Wrapped in leather.

  Marked with runic patterns.

  And humming faintly with restrained energy.

  She didn’t waste time.

  She touched the glass. It cracked immediately, unable to resist her raw strength. Kana slipped the skill book into her [Inventory] along with the chests, items, potions—everything.

  Every piece.

  Every coin.

  Every item.

  By the time she finished, the vault was bare.

  Stripped.

  Erased.

  Only one thing remained: the echo of a decade of greed disappearing in a single night.

  Kana exhaled softly.

  “Time to end the rest,” she whispered.

  …..

  Kana sprinted across the frozen clearing, breath fogging white in the winter night. Her boots crunched in the frost-coated grass, the icy wind biting at her exposed skin. She didn’t stop until she reached the familiar hollow in the hillside—the place where she had first been dragged and tied like cargo.

  She halted abruptly.

  The bushes rustled, shadows shifting.

  One by one, the four former prisoners emerged from their hiding spots—cold, ragged, and wide-eyed as they stared at Kana. Snowflakes drifted around them, catching the firelight now rising in the distance.

  “Looks like you’re successful,” the man said, voice trembling with disbelief. Far across the darkened forest, the bandits’ stronghold burned. Orange fire raged violently, swallowing the wooden structures. The flames clawed toward the black winter sky, sending spirals of smoke and embers into the wind.

  The heat of it reached them even here—soft, distant. A funeral pyre for wicked men.

  “But… where are the coin?” he asked, brow furrowing as he stepped closer. “I thought that place had more than enough to feed an entire city.”

  Kana reached beneath the small slit inside her chest armor—her hidden pocket—and extended her hand. A handful of gold coins glinted dully in the moonlight.

  “I only got these.”

  He stared at the small pile, clearly stunned. “These are nothing compared to—”

  “I can only carry a handful,” Kana cut in, her tone steady but distant. She didn’t want to explain the truth—that she had taken everything, that her [Inventory] now carried the fortune of a brutal decade collection of the bandits.

  Silence settled, broken only by the distant crackling of the burning camp.

  Kana cleared her throat. “Are you all going to the capital?”

  The woman nodded. Her breath came out in a shaky puff. “Yes. We were recruited. Since the annual tournament is near, businesses in the capital are desperate for workers. They pay well enough… and some additional bonus.”

  Sherry—the smaller girl with ash-brown hair—stepped forward with a hopeful smile. “We should go together! It’s safer than splitting up.”

  The man rubbed his arms, trying to keep warm. “If we walk, it’ll take seven days at least,” he muttered. “Longer with this cold. Hopefully we’ll meet a merchant on the road… someone willing to let us hitchhike.” He cast another glance at the burning base. “Especially after tonight. Bandits aren’t the only danger. Wolves come out hungry on winter nights like this.”

  A gust of freezing wind swept across the clearing, making the flames flicker in the distance.

  Kana’s fingers tightened unconsciously around her dagger.

  Though she doubted wild animals would go near them.

  She noticed it after she reached level 20. Wild animals seemed afraid of her though Shai was an exception.

  But for now… she stepped closer to the group, the orange glow reflecting in her eyes. “Then let’s move,” she said quietly.

  Would she be able to learn the skill book?

  The thought excited her. Learning additional skills outside of her class was going to feel like a dream come true for her. Something magical.

  Kana paused for a moment. Magical? She imagined for a moment—a small flame coming out from her fingertips.

  It was strange.

  She felt it was an accomplishment.