The moment the mad dog leaped out of the bushes, all of Garen's doubts vanished.
Because the dog in front of him was definitely not some cute little pet.
At the very least, Garen had never seen a "cute little dog" that stood over three meters tall on all fours. But right after the shock came a rising sense of dread in the face of such an enormous, unknown beast.
Garen's body froze on the spot. The thick wooden club in his hand stopped mid-swing.
Compared to the massive dog, the club—which was about as thick as a bowl—suddenly seemed dainty, and even Garen's bulging muscles looked laughable in contrast.
But what terrified Garen the most was the dog's appearance:
It had fluffy, slightly curled brown fur, and its relatively small eye sockets were almost buried within the mass of hair. Its red tongue drooped lazily out of its mouth…
Is this... a poodle? Garen suddenly felt a chill down his spine.
He'd never owned a poodle himself—in his past life, he'd grown up with a loyal, no-fuss Chinese rural dog.
But he had witnessed the terrifying might of a poodle firsthand: one time, while visiting a friend, he'd narrowly escaped being humped by their overly excited toy poodle. The trauma of that experience still haunted him.
And now standing in front of him was a three-meter-tall mega-sized poodle—a nightmare blown up to god-tier proportions.
Still, Garen tried to calm himself. Maybe it just looks like a poodle.
Trying to reassure himself, he swallowed nervously and quietly took two steps backward.
"Woof woof?"
But the mega poodle had already spotted him.
It turned sharply and fixed its gaze on Garen's burly, bare-chested frame.
"Woof! Woof! Woof!!"
Its breathing suddenly grew heavy, and its tongue and tail began wagging faster, like they'd been triggered by something.
Its eyes even shimmered with disturbingly humanlike greed and desire… Garen could swear he saw cartoon hearts popping up in its pupils.
"…What the f—?"
Startled, Garen let out a reflexive curse.
Being stared down by a dog larger than an elephant—like that—was not a good feeling.
This dog was 100% in heat.
And with no other living creature around… well, it was painfully clear who had caught its eye.
Garen didn't run—because he knew, even in his now superhuman state, this monstrous dog wasn't your run-of-the-mill mutt.
And when dealing with an aggressive dog, running never works.
If he could muster up enough killing intent, maybe he could scare off the beast with a shaky brain.
He gripped the wooden club tightly, swung it fiercely in the air twice, and shouted with full bravado:
"Come on! Fight me head-on if you dare!!"
The massive poodle paused for a moment—then leapt into the air.
Garen was stunned.
Dogs were known for their leaping ability. When scaled up to elephant size, that leap became downright horrifying.
The beast cleared dozens of meters in a single bound and came crashing down from above, aiming right at Garen.
To Garen, it felt like the sky itself was falling.
He had zero combat experience—especially not against something the size of a small tank.
Even at this critical moment, Garen froze for half a second.
And that was all it took.
The monstrous poodle slammed into him mid-air, tackling him straight to the ground.
Despite the speed, the dog's movements were oddly measured.
It didn't bite him, nor did it claw him with its sharp talons. Instead, it gently pressed its soft, massive paw on Garen's exposed chest—and eagerly lowered its head to give him a wet, sloppy lick.
"ARGH!!"
That finally snapped Garen out of his daze.
Realizing how bad things could get if he didn't act now—he knew he had to resist. He had to fight back.
He couldn't let this poodle take advantage of him—not for a second.
His eyes burned with fury. Blood surged through his chest. A once-average man from the city had awakened the pride of a warrior!
With a primal roar, he unleashed a sudden burst of strength, shoving the giant paw aside and punching the massive poodle squarely in its slobbering face.
THUMP!
The punch landed with a dull smack. The poodle's lip contorted from the impact.
"WOOF!"
It yelped in pain, instantly forgetting all about the "little beauty" beneath it. Reflexively, it swung a massive paw at Garen.
The blow launched Garen like a volleyball.
It felt like being hit by a speeding truck.
While still airborne, a mechanical voice suddenly echoed in his mind:
"Combat damage detected. Unlocking combat system. Initializing digitized mode…"
A warm surge of energy flooded Garen's weak, hungry body—his stamina bar suddenly maxed out.
At the same time, a familiar virtual display appeared in his vision:
Mini-map. Skill bar. EXP bar. Avatar. Health bar.
No stat screen. No inventory.
As for the mana bar… Garen never had one to begin with.
And then came the flashy part:
A blinding light flashed over Garen's nearly-naked body. When it faded, a full suit of gleaming armor now covered him. A massive greatsword appeared in his hand.
But Garen had no time to admire his new getup, or the virtual interface. He was still flying through the air, helplessly tracing an arc toward a horrific obstacle.
In the direction he was headed stood a massive alien tree—not from Earth—covered entirely in long, sharp spikes.
The metallic gleam of the spikes made them look like a mountain of blades.
And Garen was flying straight toward it.
RIP!!
A sharp, tearing sound rang out as Garen's body slammed into the spiked trunk.
The vicious spikes pierced clean through his heavy armor and stabbed deep into his organs.
His arms and legs were impaled. Even worse, one long spike entered directly through the middle of his eye socket and burrowed into his brain.
There's no way a person could survive such an injury.
Unless, of course, they're the protagonist.
"…What the?"
With a spike still jammed in his brain, Garen mumbled in shock: "I'm… not dead?"
Not only was he alive—he didn't even feel pain.
The spike through his brain only blinded him in one eye. That was it.
No… there was something else.
Looking at his new system interface, Garen noticed his health bar had dropped—but only slightly.
To a game character, this barely qualified as chip damage—definitely not fatal.
But to a normal human? A spike to the brain meant it was time to pick out a nice urn.
Then it hit him:
So this is the digitized mode? Just like in a game, all his vitality had been converted into a health bar. There was no such thing as a "fatal spot" anymore.
Even strikes to the brain or heart only dealt damage based on impact force.
Headshots and toe jabs now hurt the same, assuming the force was equal.
Garen was amazed. Ignoring the dozens of spikes impaled through him, he eagerly dove into studying the system.
Everything was familiar—aside from the missing inventory and stat screen.
His avatar even had a little "1" beside it, indicating his current level.
The skill bar only had one active ability: Garen's innate passive skill—
[Perseverance (Passive)]: "If Garen does not take damage for 4 seconds, he will regenerate 8% of his max HP every 5 seconds."
The description was slightly different from the game version, but Garen didn't dwell on it.
He also noticed a golden glow blinking on the dark skill bar—indicating he had one skill point to spend.
Without hesitation, he picked his go-to jack-of-all-trades move—Q skill:
[Decisive Strike]: "Garen removes all slowing effects from himself and gains a 30% movement speed boost for 3.5 seconds.
His next basic attack within 4.5 seconds deals bonus damage and silences the target for 1.5 seconds."
Wait… isn't this the max-level version?
Garen frowned. He had only leveled the skill once—but it already had the full in-game effects. Also, there were no numbers specifying exact damage.
As if on cue, the system's mechanical voice chimed in:
"Skill damage is determined by the host's physical attributes, striking force, and the opponent's defense.
The host must discover the appropriate usage and effects through practice."
Garen nodded. It made sense—the real world wasn't a game. This cheat code of his had to compromise with reality somehow.
"Then why does a single skill point give the max-level effect?"
Garen asked mentally.
"That question does not require an answer. The host must discover the truth independently."
Came the emotionless reply—and then, silence.
Garen kept trying to ask more questions, but the system had apparently gone into sleep mode.
Guess this thing isn't true AI. It only responds to certain types of prompts.
Still impaled on the tree, Garen became completely absorbed in exploring his shiny new system.
He even forgot about the spikes still piercing his body.
Until—
"…Huh?"
Finally snapping out of his trance, Garen frowned. "What's biting me from behind?"
"…!"
A long silence followed.
His grip on the greatsword tightened.
"…MMPH!!"
He cursed through gritted teeth.
Damn it. I forgot to kill the poodle!!
(End of Chapter)