Chapter Four: Three Punches, Just Like That!

After returning from lunch, a number of players nearby were already hunting young wolves. Having leveled up, it was time to move on.

A cheerful voice sounded not far behind me: "Brother, can you handle this alone? If not, let's hunt wolves together."

Turning to the source of the voice—a man nicknamed “Lei Feng”—my first impression was that he didn’t resemble the legendary Lei Feng at all. He was tall and muscular, far sturdier than the famed figure. Thick, well-defined eyebrows framed sharp eyes; his square jaw was resolute, lips broad, and nose prominent. At that moment, he wielded a white hammer, charging wildly and leaving a young wolf battered and bruised. Used to traveling solo and not eager to make friends, I considered whether to take him along if his strength fell short.

I smiled politely, “Thanks for your kindness, but I can manage on my own. I’ll ask for help if I need it!”

“Alright!” he replied decisively.

With a swift slash of my dagger across the young wolf’s throat, it silently collapsed. “Congratulations on leveling up,” a dazzling white light flashed. Just as the wolf fell, I thought I heard the crisp sound of an item dropping. Searching the corpse, I found a gray-black iron sword, no longer than three feet including the handle, its two-finger-wide blade rough and uneven with faint copper-colored rust. The crude iron blade was so rough I might have mistaken it for a discarded steel bar if not for its wooden handle. A blunt iron sword, level 4, requiring 10 strength and 5 agility, dealing 2-3 damage one-handed, 4-7 two-handed, weighing 4 units, with full durability of 40/40. (Weapons with one-handed and two-handed distinctions count as two-handed when wielded alone.) Though battered, it was still better than a novice’s dagger—time to find a new hunting ground.

Cautiously, I pressed onward toward the western slope of Oxhorn Mountain, where the monsters were blue wolves, generally levels 6-7. I had ventured here once before at level 3 and was chased hundreds of meters by a level 7 blue wolf, barely surviving after using two Muscle Elixirs. Now at level 4 with my iron sword, I should handle them easily and it was time to search for the old herbalist’s lost medicine basket.

After more than an hour, I had scoured the lower western slope but found no trace of the basket. Unknowingly, I had reached level 5 and looted two white-tier items: crude wolf leather shorts and a bamboo hat. Equipped, I looked like a lumberjack with a machete or a hunter with a beast spear—awkward and ungainly, but there was little choice at this early stage of the game.

My hunger dropped to the thirties. Below 20, each point lost would reduce attack and defense by 2%, and at zero, I would be too weak to fight. After searching a bit longer with no luck, I would have to return to the village to buy bread and tea. I worried the basket might be taken by another player.

Moving carefully, I continued. After dispatching several blue wolves, I spotted two gray wolves playing near some low bushes—a smaller level 8 with a large black patch on its left ear and a taller one at level 9. Wolves here usually hunted alone, so were these two mates? If I charged, I’d be intercepted before grabbing the basket, and fighting two wolves several levels above me was far from a simple sum of their strengths.

If I could lure them away and strike while they were distracted, I might snatch the basket easily. A plan formed, and I picked up a stone, hiding behind a tree and throwing it toward the mountaintop. The dull thud made them stop playing, alert and moving toward the noise. I sprinted to the basket. Just as my hand grazed the strap, I heard the rush of air—the wolves were returning. I quickly withdrew my left hand, drew my sword, and assumed a defensive stance, watching their approach.

They closed in from left and right, forming a pincer. Facing attacks from two sides, I had little hope of blocking both, so I retreated back to the pine tree where I had hidden, fighting with my back to it. They stopped about five meters away, seeing no escape route.

The black-patched wolf lunged at my head, while the level 9 aimed at my chest, fierce and intent on killing me in one blow. Fighting with my back to the tree made dodging easier. As they attacked separately, I slipped behind the tree to avoid the level 9’s strike, turned to face the level 8, and slashed upward, the blade cutting a two-foot gash across its abdomen.

They had expected an easy kill, but the prey was unexpectedly quick. The level 8 wolf bled profusely, losing 56 HP instantly. Had I not feared the level 9 on the right, this strike would have ended the fight. Though my chest was clawed, I lost only 21 HP.

The injured wolf howled in pain, rousing the fury of the other. Missing its target, it spun and leapt toward me. I avoided a direct clash, instead striking the wounded wolf as it lagged behind. With a heavy downward slash, I left a deep, bone-exposed wound on its back—barely alive and unable to move.

Enraged, the stronger wolf attacked wildly, while the dying one also struggled to block my path. Rather than retreat, I advanced. The wounded wolf was no longer a threat. Taking a swift step forward, I met the fierce attack head-on.

The charging wolf had learned to flee at the sight of me, but did not expect resistance. Caught off guard, my blunt iron sword pierced its chest, dealing a timely 78 damage. My own chest throbbed with burning pain, losing over 40 HP. I quickly consumed a Rejuvenation Pill.

Both wolves, heavily wounded, posed little threat with their slow attacks and soon became spirits under my sword. The level 9 wolf dropped a belt upon death: a wolfskin belt, level 5, requiring 3 agility, providing 2-3 defense, weighing 2 units, with 50/50 durability. The obstacle cleared, I could finally retrieve the basket and complete my task.

Bending to grab the basket, a sudden change occurred—a white wolf, twice the size of a normal gray wolf and accompanied by a strong gust, charged fiercely. Danger was imminent; I abandoned the basket and executed an ungainly roll to dodge the attack. Rising, I saw the imposing white wolf, five feet tall, with piercing green eyes that coldly scrutinized me, as if inspecting its prey.

Its profile read simply “White Wolf,” clearly beyond my level 5 and outside my viewing range. With such a commanding presence, it was undoubtedly powerful. The wisest choice was to flee.

But no—if I retreated now, I might never recover the basket. Quickly calculating, I noted I still had three Muscle Elixirs and one Rejuvenation Pill. If I could kill this beast, I’d complete my mission and stand to gain excellent loot. Driven by greed, I resolved to fight.

The white wolf seemed unconcerned by my level, leisurely toying with its prey until exhaustion—a supreme delight for a predator. Sizing up the situation, I planned to exploit its arrogance and strike when the moment was right.

Gathering strength, I suddenly ran back along my path. The wolf, unwilling to lose its “food,” stirred up a violent wind and attacked with both paws. I had no intention of fleeing; I’d scoped out a nearby thicket. Swiftly, I veered into the bushes and crouched, blending into the grass, creating illusions that confused the wolf.

Confident, it lunged into the thicket. As it neared my head, I shifted slightly to avoid its razor-sharp claws and drove my blunt iron sword toward its throat. The wolf’s reflexes were extraordinary; at the last moment, it halted, and I only grazed its belly.

The unexpected wound ignited its ferocity. It launched a furious assault. I refused a direct confrontation, striking and retreating, weaving through trees for cover, attacking when it faltered, employing guerrilla tactics reminiscent of Chairman Mao’s wartime strategies. After more than half an hour, the exhausted white wolf fell beneath my sword.

The chime of item drops caught my ear. Hastily picking it up, I found a bronze armor—the White Wolf Hide Armor, level 10, requiring 5 strength and 15 agility, defense 7-10, agility +3, weight 7, with full durability at 70/70. My first piece of bronze gear in this fantasy world! Though stats were modest, bronze equipment was rare here—an invaluable prize.

Walking back to the village, I was nearly overwhelmed by the mix of surprise, envy, jealousy, and disdain in the gazes I met.

“Come quick, everyone! This NPC herbalist is dressed so strangely—I can’t believe how harsh this fantasy world is,” Player A exclaimed.

“Idiot, no NPC is that charismatic. Look at the bulge under his torn cloth pants. No way would an NPC be allowed to look so indecent!” Player B corrected.

“No way! In such a short open beta, he’s gathered so much gear. He must be a former beta tester!” Player A doubted.

“Impossible. Beta testers aren’t allowed to play this game. He must have had some lucky encounter. Didn’t you see him coming from the high-level area outside the village? Maybe there are treasures there—we should try our luck too.”

That day, hundreds of overly eager level 1 and 2 players perished beneath wolf claws, all screaming they’d been tricked as they died.

...

Few players frequented the pharmacy. Just as I entered, a figure blocked my way. Damn! He employed a long-lost martial art technique, Materialization Shift, appearing right before me. His face was strikingly abstract—almost artistic, like an Impressionist painting made of chaotic shapes. Not ugly, but round-faced, thick-lipped, with small eyes and a broad forehead. He was about my height, around eighteen or nineteen, but all bone and no flesh.

His eyes, barely larger than a mouse’s, glinted with an eerie coldness as he appraised me head to toe. A sudden chill ran down my spine.

About to ask why he blocked me, he croaked, “Big brother, can you tell me where you got your gear? Tell me the secret, and you’ll be my big brother. Rain or shine, I’ll follow you. Even if I can’t help much, I’ll bring you tea when thirsty, rub your back when tired, fan you when hot, and hand you tissue when... you know, Aunt Flo visits.”

“STOP! What are you talking about? Who’s Aunt Flo? Do we even know each other?” I interrupted, fearing he’d start rambling about pimping or who knows what.

“Sorry, slip of the tongue! That’s a trick to handle women! For a wise, handsome, elegant, dashing, young hero like you—Feng Liu, noble and upright—I just want to be your humble follower. When you fight monsters, I’ll gather your loot; when you PvP, I’ll cheer you on; when you eat, I’ll eat some meat for you. My admiration for you flows like the Yellow River's floodwaters. You are my beacon in the dark, my guidepost on the journey, my goddess in life…”

“Stop! Enough! What exactly do you want? Just say it!” I was both amused and exasperated. People nearby gave us strange looks. He seemed oblivious, but I couldn’t afford to be embarrassed for him.

He lowered his voice, conspiratorial: “Big brother, step aside for a word.”

To escape his pestering, I followed him to a corner of the pharmacy, avoiding the doorway where we’d attract attention. Wearing a sly grin, he said, “Big brother, have you found a bug? You don’t have to tell me details, just look out for me when you have extra gear, gold, or babes. Take me as your little brother.”

Though playful, his eyes were clear and innocent, not malicious. I couldn’t scold him, so I brushed him off: “There’s no bug in this fantasy world. I just spend more time killing monsters, so I get better loot. I’m used to going it alone and really don’t need a little brother.”

“Big brother, being your little brother doesn’t mean always following you. Just message me when you need me—I’ll come running.”

Unable to resist his persistence, I added him as a friend, satisfying him. From his introduction, I learned his name was Liang Wei, in-game called “Just So So,” a college freshman aiming to become a hunter.

After seeing Liang Wei off, I finally delivered the medicine basket. The old herbalist greeted me with a smile: “Young man, you got the basket back! You’re quite something. Otherwise, this old bone would have struggled and maybe lost his life.”

I replied politely, “Old sir, thanks to your miraculous medicine, I might have died on the mountain long ago.”

He stroked his beard and chuckled, “Rare to see a young man so humble. Let me check the herbs.” I handed over the basket. After counting, he brought out a slender wooden box with a black lacquer finish. “This sword was my protection when I was young, traveling famous mountains and rivers. I’ve kept it for over 40 years. It’s no legendary blade, but better than your dull sword. Young man, your good heart touches me. It’s yours now.”

I accepted it solemnly, grateful: “Rest assured, old sir, I will use your sword to uphold justice!”

“That’s good to hear!” At that moment, a system announcement appeared: “Congratulations to Blue Bat for becoming the first player to complete the hidden quest. Reward: 100 reputation, 2 charisma.” Liang Wei’s avatar flickered excitedly in the message bar. That kid really latched on!

After a brief reply, I bade the elder farewell and prepared to eat, but he called me back. Gently rubbing the ring on his left ring finger, his face grew somber and nostalgic. “This ring was given to me by my late wife and has been with me ever since. Now that she’s gone and I’m half buried myself, it serves no purpose. Young man, you seem to have good character. I give it to you in hopes it brings you luck.”

Luck like this? Jewelry was notoriously rare. For the old man to give me his late wife’s keepsake was astonishing. Today my fortune was truly inexplicable. I resolved not to bathe for a month.

I accepted the ring with reverence and gratitude, said goodbye, and left the pharmacy.

Fantasy Online.