BxR - Chapter 2: Tutorial Boss

The duck let out a sound that shouldn’t have existed. Somewhere between a roar and a quack, guttural and heavy, like something ancient echoing out of the wrong throat.

A soft chime cut through the tension. Not external. Not real in the physical sense. It pulsed straight into Dante’s skull—like a notification from a phone he didn’t own anymore.

System Message: You have received the title: [Coward]
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[Title: Coward]
Description: You prefer to avoid fights and run away from your problems instead of tackling them head on.
Effect: Agility increases by 1, when being chased.

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System Message: You have a new class available: [Boss Rusher]
Do you wish to accept this class now, or defer your choice until the tutorial boss has been defeated?
[Accept/Decline]

His voice came out dry.

“A class?”

The words felt absurd in his mouth, as if saying them out loud might make them make more sense. A class. A system. A duck the size of a small car.

None of it added up.

Then the sound came—a thunderclap of motion from his right. He turned just in time to see it charge.

Feathers like blades. Wings spread wide. Beak gaping. It didn’t lumber like he expected. It rushed. Every step pounded the stone with a weight that felt geological. The kind of impact you didn’t walk away from.

His thoughts snapped apart.

“Shit—”

He moved. No time to plan. Just run.

He bolted along the edge of the arena, feet sliding slightly on the polished black stone. Behind him, the duck thundered forward, carving a straight line through the space he’d just vacated.

Another chime sounded.

[Title: Coward] is now active.
Effect: +1 Agility

“Oh, fuck off!” he shouted.

Every breath from Dante’s mouth was ragged, and he could feel the burning in his lungs. Annoyingly, the interface panel followed him at the edge of his periphery, as if on invisible rails.

The panel about his Coward title disappeared after a couple seconds, but the one about his class—that stayed. He couldn’t turn around to see how close the duck was. Not with the giant screen there.

After two deep exhales, he grew fed up with it.

“Alright, fine. Fine! Accept!” he barked. He could hear the duck’s slamming steps sputtering behind him. “Jesus Christ—yes! I accept! Just go away already!”

The panel vanished.

But it was too late. The duck was too quick.

Dante turned, just to see its wing pull back, feathers wide. Its body twisted, lining up the shot like a boxer’s haymaker.

He didn’t have time to dodge. The only thing he could do was raise his arms up and brace for impact.

WHAM.

It’s wing slammed into Dante like a freight train. Dante stumbled, feet skidding back, before eventually losing balance. He hit the ground, rolled twice, but came to a stop as his back touched the arena’s walls.

He groaned, blinking as he readjusted himself and stood. He stared back at the duck. That’s when he realized that his body was sent tumbling back nearly a dozen meters.

His arms ached, ribs screaming with every breath. He could feel where the duck’s feathers had sliced him—thin cuts burning along his forearms, trickles of blood staining his skin—but it wasn’t nearly as bad as it should’ve been.

That thing had hit him like a linebacker on steroids. And yet… he was fine. Mostly.

Was he bruised? Absolutely. In pain? Obviously. But broken?

Not even close.

That’s when the screen came back.

System Message: Your class has been set to [Boss Rusher]
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[Class: Boss Rusher]
Description: Only the elite can satisfy your itch for battle. You ignore weaklings, and pursue the strong. You are a high-risk duelist that excels against boss-class enemies, gaining powerful combat abilities while in combat.
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[Passive: Predator’s Instinct]
Effect: All stats are doubled when in proximity to a boss-class enemy. When no boss-class enemies are present, all stats are halved.
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[Passive: Spoils of War]
Effect: You may choose one additional reward from boss loot obelisks.
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[Skill: Execute]
Effect: This skill can only be used against a staggered boss-class enemy. Your next attack uses double your weapon’s primary scaling stat for that attack only.
Cooldown: 3 seconds.

His eyes moved fast, skimming across the lines of glowing text.

Seriously? Video game skills?

It felt like a punchline delivered too late in a prank show.

“You’re fucking with me,” he muttered, not sure if he was referring to the system or the universe at large. If anyone had been watching, they wouldn’t need subtitles to know he was furious.

“This is cool and all,” he said under his breath, “but I didn’t ask for any of it.”

The words echoed off the stone, thin and bitter. He wasn’t confused by what he was seeing. The menus, the skills, the class—it was all familiar. Classic RPG mechanics, lifted straight from the video games he played. Titles, passives, cooldowns. The language of role playing fantasy.

Except this wasn’t fantasy. It was real.

His body told him that with every breath.

The bruises across his ribs. The sting of open cuts. The taste of blood behind his teeth. It wasn’t some immersive virtual reality simulator. There was no controller to drop, no logout button. Not any that he could see, at least.

It reminded him of something someone once said online—no one really wants to live in a medieval world if they also have to deal with dysentery and bad bread.

As he stared back at the monstrous horse-sized duck, his eyebrows furrowed. He needed to beat that thing to survive. The gate he passed through disappeared, and with a quick glance around, there were no other exits. The screen also mentioned that this was the tutorial—and that he had to beat the boss.

And Dante didn’t want to fight monsters if it meant dying for real.

His gaze shifted back to the creature in front of him.

Its wings spread outward, slow and deliberate. Each feather caught the light and shimmered, sharp as a scalpel. As it flapped, the air trembled. A wall of living razors.

Dante narrowed his eyes, rolling his shoulders once.

“Note to self,” he muttered. “Don’t punch the porcupine.”

The thing was armored head to toe in that feathered death-coat. The chest, the back, the wings—anywhere else was a suicide attempt. If he wanted to land a hit, it had to be the head, the legs, or maybe the beak. Something exposed. Something soft enough not to shatter his hand on contact.

But even as he studied it, the doubts returned.

He wasn’t a fighter. Not really. He could probably throw a punch or two, and he’d gotten to a scrap a few times in high school, but that meant nothing in a real fight. He was usually the “hold my phone” guy—not the one throwing fists.

Still, something was different now.

The fear that should’ve kept him frozen was gone—replaced by something… different. His blood was boiling. A deep aggression simmered beneath his bones. He wanted to just rush at the duck, not caring that it had just blown him away like a twig.

Then the system blinked again.

[Passive: Predator’s Instinct] has been activated.
Effect: All stats have been doubled.

A slow breath escaped his lips.

“If you’re trying to kill me anyway,” he said, voice low, “I might as well fight back. Fight or flight.”

His eyes drifted to the rock. The one he’d dropped when the duck flattened him. It lay a few meters away, still smeared with dust, faint blood staining the edge.

The duck let out a shrill, rattling screech. Its wings flared wide, razor-feathers splayed like daggers. Then it charged—legs pounding against the stone, beak aimed straight for Dante’s chest.

Dante reacted and ran forward toward the rock.

—Holy shit, he thought.

His body felt stronger. More powerful. His feet responded like they already knew where to go. In one smooth lunge, he darted forward and snatched up the jagged stone.

The duck was already on him. Its beak snapped once, sharp enough to take off a limb. Dante twisted sideways, just in time to feel the rush of air scrape past his cheek.

“Shit!” he hissed, stumbling two steps back. But he kept upright, weapon in hand. He took a few small backward jumps, widening the distance.

“C’mon, that the best you got, you overgrown bath toy?” Dante mocked.

The duck turned, feathers ruffled. It screeched once more.

Dante swallowed but didn’t stop.

“What? Don’t like that? Even my grandma makes chicken less rubbery than you!”

The insult barely made sense. It wasn’t even a chicken. But the thing was entirely yellow like a rubber duckie— and it was all he had.

It stomped down and ran forward. Its head leaned forward and tilted, beak wide. It was going to try and snap Dante in half.

He stood his ground. Just long enough until—

Now!

He twisted left as the duck's snapping beak sliced through the air beside him, missing his ribs by inches.

He didn’t wait. With a quick pivot, he gripped the rock with both hands and slammed it against the side of the duck’s beak.

CRACK.

The impact echoed like a hammer striking ceramic. A fracture split along the beak's edge, thin at first, before spreading like a spider’s web.

The duck screeched in pain, feathers puffing out as it recoiled.

Dante stumbled back, panting. He didn’t trust it to stay down. Not even for a second.

“Didn’t like that, huh?” he muttered, lifting his rock in warning. His arms were shaking now—probably from all the adrenaline he was feeling.

The duck’s head snapped back toward him. Its eyes were bloodshot, twitching with unfiltered rage.

It roared.

Not a quack. Not a honk. A full-bodied, chest-rumbling roar, like a lion showing dominance to its pack.

It charged again—wings outstretched this time. It was going to use its wings to slam him again.

Dante juked hard to the right, letting the wing rush past with inches to spare. His shoes skidded across the stone. He planted one foot—then pushed off, aiming straight beneath the monster. The extra dexterity he felt was almost unreal.

He brought the rock down again, this time aiming lower, right at the duck’s legs.

The swing connected just above the joint. Another crack thundered out, sharper this time. The duck let out a strangled noise halfway between a shriek and a wheeze, its momentum stumbling as one of its legs buckled slightly.

It collapsed down, one leg folding on itself.

Dante rolled out from under it, breath ragged, his heart slamming like a drum in his chest. He scrambled to his feet, eyes locked on the duck.

It was swaying now.

Dazed. Bleeding from its cracked beak, one leg limping, wings twitching in uneven spasms. A low, pained groan rattled from its throat.

A screen popped in front of Dante.

[Skill: Execute] has met its activation requirements.

He gave a relieved chuckle. “Hey, no hard feelings. You tried to kill me first, asshole.”

There was no hesitation. Just pure focus. Combined with his lack of fear and boiling aggression—he went in for the kill. With a broken leg, the duck’s body slumped forward, its head drooping—perfect smashing height.

Dante leapt forward, and swung, two hands gripped on his trusty bloodied rock.

A powerful force welled up inside him; a tremendous amount of power filled his arms. Both his hands illuminated a quick, bright flash.

The rock came down like a hammer from the heavens, smashing directly at the monster duck’s head.

It made contact, and everything exploded.

The rock in his hand turned to pebbles. The duck, however, fared much worse. Its head caved in, skull and neck snapping backward as the impact sent a gust of wind in all directions. Even Dante was pushed back by the force of his own blow.

A choked screech escaped the killer duck’s neck, but immediately went still. Its body slumped, wings falling, feathers settling down, permanently.

A long silence followed.

Dante stood over the monster, chest heaving, breathing ragged. All the energy he had before—it had disappeared in an instant after that last hit.

System Message: Horse-Sized Duck of Doom has been defeated.
You have gained 75 Experience.
You have reached level 2 (0/85).
You have gained 2 attribute points.
You have gained 1 skill point.
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Tutorial dungeon has been completed.
Generating Loot Obelisk…
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System Message: You have earned a clear achievement: [Weaponless]
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[Achievement: Weaponless]
Description: You have decided to clear the tutorial dungeon without any of provided the starter weapons.
Reward: Guaranteed rare drop from loot obelisk.

He looked at the screen in disbelief.

“You’re shitting me,” he said, mouth agape. “You’re telling me there were actual weapons I could have used, but I missed them?!”

Dante leaned his head back, staring straight up at the ceiling.

“Please—don’t make me fight 100 duck-sized horses now.”