Rogue smirked. "Live stream," he replied, his tone sly, as if that explained everything.
She continued to look at it.
He rolled his shoulders, ducked a swipe. "Other players watching, real time."
Little Tank's head tilted the other way.
[Why?] she asked, genuinely curious.
Rogue blinked. "Because it's entertaining, and it pays."
That drew a sharper, more deliberate glance from her, curiosity flickering just for a moment before she returned to her task.
"Viewers become followers. Followers bring system rewards, EXP, item drops, rare gear, sponsors. The system rewards attention."
Mirra, mid-heeled, glanced sideways. "You want to be famous."
Rogue didn't even deny it, "obviously."
Little Tank looked back at the panel. The player on screen was running poorly, desperation etched into every stumble. The camera jerked as they crashed through the ruined forest; their breath was ragged, their fear almost tangible. The health bar was already dangerously low. Behind them, another player moved with chilling control, closing the distance with steady, deliberate steps, a looming certainty. Rogue noticed her focus and gave commentary.
"Player killer. That's the downside."
The stream flickered as the runner tried to turn, tried to fight, failed.
"Broadcasting makes them easy to track. Attention cuts both ways."
The figure on the stream went down hard, the feed stuttering violently as the final hit landed, and the panel dimmed, the abrupt silence reverberating after the chaos.
Rogue clicked his tongue. "Yeah, don't stream outside safe zones unless you're strong enough," he cautioned.
Little Tank stared at the empty space where the panel had vanished, lingering for a heartbeat longer. Her brow knit, lips pressed together in an unreadable line. Then she lowered her gaze back to the ground and continued gathering as if nothing at all had happened, a quiet wall sliding back into place. Rogue, meanwhile, returned his attention to the field, the tension from the stream fading into the background.
[Famous?] she typed, testing the word like it might be useful later.
Rogue grinned, already turning back to the fight "Yeah," he said, "Famous."
[Weed x48 acquired.]
[Weed x63 acquired.]
[Weed x79 acquired.]
[Wild Onion x4 acquired.]
[Wild Onion x7 acquired.]
[Wild Carrot x3 acquired.]
[Wild Carrot x6 acquired.]
[Rough Herb x12 acquired.]
[Bitter Herb x5 acquired.]
[Cracked Nuts x9 acquired.]
[Forest Nuts x14 acquired.]
[Ground Pepper x2 acquired.]
[Wild Pepper x5 acquired.]
[Common Seasoning x6 acquired.]
A quiet pause slipped in before something else appeared, rarer, quieter, the kind of items that did not show up often enough to expect but just often enough to feel intentional.
[Golden Root x1 acquired.]
[Fragrant Spice x1 acquired.]
[Wild Truffle Fragment x1 acquired.]
The first time one appeared, Little Tank paused just long enough to look at it, then stored it without comment and continued. By the third, she had already categorised it as something that would be useful later and filed it neatly alongside everything else.
Little Tank's inventory filled, then overfilled, but instead of stopping, she continued anyway. Some time later, the game's pace subtly shifted. As they continued, a warning appeared.
[Encumbrance Warning: Weight Limit Exceeded.]
Little Tank kept going. The extra weight dragged harder now, not just a suggestion but a constant pull. Armour settled deeper into her shoulders. Boots sank into the churned ground. The resistance only confirmed what she had already decided. Stamina strained, then adjusted, then held. The system responded in quiet increments, making stopping feel inefficient.
So Little Tank didn't, and the boars kept coming.
Time stretched into repetition. The steady loop of impact and gathering became familiar. The rhythm stopped feeling like combat and started feeling like a process. Rogue's movements grew sharper, more automatic. Mirra's healing fell into perfect intervals. Little Tank stayed in place, small, planted, unbothered, letting the world interact with her rather than the other way around. The field finally began to empty as the battle wore on.
Seventy-five boars later, the scene changed: the field was empty, the last corpse lying still in the grass. From Rogue's perspective, he stood there, shoulders slightly slumped, daggers hanging loosely in his hands as he stared at the last corpse. The switch from battle to aftermath was abrupt.
"I never want to see a boar again," he said, his voice flat, worn to the edge as if something inside him had quietly given up and all that was left was exhaustion.
Mirra lowered her staff slowly, her gaze still fixed on Little Tank with a kind of strained disbelief. "I don't think I can go back to normal parties after this…" She hesitated. "This feels like cheating, but I don't know who's cheating."
[SYSTEM]:
EXP Gained: +10,300
LEVEL 12
HP: 168 / 400
STAMINA: 132 / 400
DEFENSE: 198 / 400
ATTACK: 120 / 400
SPEED: 120 / 400
EXP: 1300 / 12000
COOKING LEVEL 1
GATHERING LEVEL 10
NOOB STREAMER LEVEL 1
A new screen flashed, reminding them of progress before dropping back into silence.
+200 Stat Points Available.
Little Tank looked at it.
Tank stared at the numbers longer than necessary, not because they were complicated, but because they pressed in on him, almost suffocating. HP. Defense. Stamina. Caps. Points. Levels. The sheer volume made his chest tighten. Why so many? Which ones mattered? Tank couldn't decide, something anxious threading through his uncertainty.
The stat points sat like unsorted ingredients. "…Okay." If Tank remembered correctly, every level gave points. That was simple. He'd dumped them without thinking; the number clarified things.
+20 per level.
So from level 2 to 12, that was ten levels, meaning ten times the points per level. Tank quickly calculated, "...two hundred." That checked out. Now Tank could focus on the caps.
HP: 400
Defense: 400
He was pretty sure those hadn't always been that high. Earlier, the numbers were much lower. This meant the stat cap increased as well, but not at every level. Instead, the cap increased only at particular milestones. It didn't rise smoothly at each level.
It felt more like steps to Tank. He frowned, trying to pin down the pattern. Where did it change?
Level 5, level 10... "...Every five levels?" Tank wondered. If true, that explained the jump. Not a small one, either, large enough to matter. "...Like... a hundred?" He compared the numbers, and it made sense.
Every five levels, the cap increased by 100 points. Every ten levels meant two increases, totalling 200. Stacking points wasn't useless. It just became effective after the cap rose. That logic seemed sound to him.
Tank looked at the +200 stat points, then at Defense. After that, he didn't think very hard.
HP made things hurt less. Defense made things hurt even less. It felt like a good system to Tank. So he split it in half.