Fruits Of Labour

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Name:Raze Brightheart

Race:Human

Age:16

Class: Magic Archer

Rank: Apprentice

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Gift from ??? : Black Box [Locked]

Innate Rune: Inventory (F) 

Elemental Affinity:Water,Ice

Mana Circle: 1st Water Circle

Vessel Limit: 120

Beast Shard:41-->71

Strength:7-->17

Endurance:6-12

Agility:7-->19

Mana:21-->23

Runes: [Mana Flow], [Mana Surge], [Far Sight]

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[9/100]

1.Glock 22

2.Black facemask

3. plain steel spear. 

4. Crude bow

5. Quill and Arrow x 25

6. Goblin corpses x 4

7. Final hound corpses x 20

8. One horned racoon x 60

9. crude steel sword

"Phew, not bad." Raze Praised glad to have worked so hard over the past week. 

That's right, it had been a whole week since he had entered the second floor and, subsequently, the tower itself. 

He didn't know what all the other climbers had been doing over the past week. 

As for him, he had been doing nothing but grinding out mobs and steadily raising his stats. 

However, this time he hadn't used his bow at all. 

Instead, focusing on using the spear and gaining experience with it. 

Something he had made great progress in.

By no means had he suddenly become an expert with the spear; however, he now at least knew his way around with it and was competent enough to feel confident using it. 

Not to mention his stats had seen a great upgrade over the past week, all entering the double digits. 

He had decided to mostly avoid investing in his mana since it was already high enough and would automatically go up once he made a new circle. 

Not to mention, he didn't really have a need for it for now. 

Instead, he chose to invest in his other stats, which were severely lacking earlier. 

With his new stats, he was confident enough to be able to fight most monsters, at least on this floor. 

While he wasn't certain of it yet, he definitely felt that he had finally surpassed the maximum limits of a peak-conditioned human in his old world. 

If he were to go back, he could definitely break most, if not all, of the olympics records. 

This was a good thing since his current circle was almost completely filled, which meant soon he would stop being able to increase his stats until he made a new circle. 

Something that usually takes a long time. 

Even with all that said, Raze was by no means close to the level of a superhuman; a single truck could probably hospitalise him. 

Also, the chances of him being able to survive a fatal bullet hit were miniscule. 

So even though he had 70+ beast shards all evenly spread, a few mundane things could still prove fatal to him. 

And since this was the case for mundane things, one shouldn't even need to mention the things in the tower, which could probably end him with just a sneeze. 

Knowing this was something that kept him humble, it ade sure to not let him grow overconfident in his abilities and end up biting more than he could chew. 

He still needed to be extremely cautious when choosing what close-range fights to take and what to run away from, given the chance. 

But, despite all this, he couldn't help but smile; after all, he had achieved his main goal of gaining experience. 

Best of all, he still didn't die. 

Though his body told a different story, various cuts and bruises riddled his body, and even his clothes were torn in various sections. 

And yet he was still alive and not crippled. 

He lost his only source of healing, which pushed him to the extreme and made him extremely careful with the fights he chose. 

Leading him to develop a combat style that focused on defence and countering the enemy attack to end the fight as efficiently as possible with the least amount of effort from him. 

It was still very crude and had many openings that could easily be seen and exploited by a master. 

Thankfully, he was only fighting brainless, violent monsters running on instinct. 

Even with all the flaws it had, Raze was very proud of what he had created, as he had done it without any external help, and the style really suited his cowardly personality, which preferred to avoid taking risks. 

After the last risk he had taken, blowing horribly in his face and almost making him a cripple, he had learned his lesson of never doing anything similar in the future. 

He wasn't the main character with plot armour who would always get rewarded for any risk they took while ensuring survival with their plot armour. 

Instead, he was just like one of many other millions of different extras that no one cares about, and his whole existence was just for him to fill numbers and make the main characters shine brightly.

Every risk he took was just unnecessarily teasing Lady Death. 

While he had somehow managed to survive this time thanks to his quick thinking, but he wasn't sure about the next time. 

He was extremely weak, and his body was very mortal. 

All it would take was one unlucky encounter for him to meet an untimely end. 

Speaking of risk, over the past week he has done a lot of reflecting on his encounter with the feral hound, on what he had done, and on what he could have potentially done better. 

Ultimately, he had determined two major reasons for his near-death experience. 

The first was his being too careless and rash. 

When he saw the hound in an awkward position that he thought it couldn't dodge, he got excited and attacked it, in turn ending up in an awkward position himself. 

He thought that he was going to win with that attack and failed to prepare a countermeasure for his failure. 

This realisation played an integral role in the development of his current sword style. 

Which involved always remaining calm no matter the situation and preparing a counter for your enemy's counter before every attack. 

He recognised that such a battle style might be too inefficient and mentally taxing for the average person, but he was a genius, so it really didn't matter. 

As for the second problem, it was much more obvious than the last one. 

It was simply a lack of enough agility stats; had he been faster in his attack, even his untimely attack should have been able to seriously injure the hound.

This was the reason why he had invested so much in agility. 

Overall, he was now much stronger than earlier and had reached a level where he was confident enough to dispatch one or two hounds in close range at the same time, as evident by the tens of bodies lying lifelessly in his inventory. 

"Well, that's enough about me; let's clear this floor now," he muttered as he got down the tree he was currently on.