A thirteenth tunnel had appeared in the main chamber where players spawned—its entrance partially blocked by debris. Large rocks and shattered stones lay scattered like something had forcibly blasted its way through the dungeon walls. Deckard’s heart quickened. He knew what this meant. The boss had spawned.

  He approached the newly formed tunnel cautiously. The air felt heavy. Deckard followed it. At the tunnel’s end, there was a wider chamber, and there it was.

  The Claw.

  At first glance, it was a lone oversized claw, as if a giant crab had died and only its massive claw remained behind. It took some squinting for Deckard to make out the crab the claw belonged to. It dangled from its oversized limb. It was barely larger than the common yellow crabs Deckard had defeated dozens of times. The claw was grotesquely disproportionate, its gnarled surface like a battering ram made of living chitin.

  Deckard couldn’t decide whether to laugh at its absurdity or feel intimidated by the sheer destructive power it implied.

  The claw rendered the boss incapable of moving on its own. Instead, a swarm of crab underlings scuttled about at the ready. When the time came, they would become a living platform that would carry it. Deckard counted at least thirty of them right now, but according to the guides, their numbers would swell as the battle progressed.

  Despite its unwieldy appearance, The Claw was no joke. The tutorials for these dungeons warned that its attacks were devastating, with the oversized claw smashing down in sweeping arcs that left little room for escape.

  And while the underlings carried it, they were disturbingly fast, skittering and shifting with an agility that defied their cargo’s bulk.

  Most players tackled The Claw with a divide-and-conquer strategy: one group focused on the boss’s body, chipping away at its health, while another worked to thin the ranks of the underlings. But Deckard didn’t have a team. His strategy would be different.

  He stepped closer to the tunnel’s mouth, watching as the underlings detected his presence. They converged beneath the claw, lifting it in a seamless motion. The claw rose, its shadow stretching across the chamber as if to claim the space itself. Yet, for all its size, the boss crab remained immobile. The Claw couldn’t pursue him. Not through the tunnel. The sheer bulk of its oversized limb was both its greatest weapon and its fatal flaw.

  Deckard crouched behind a jagged rock, observing. The underlings shifted restlessly, holding the claw aloft as if daring him to approach.

  You've watched how the Claw moves.

  Your understanding of it grows.

  “A few more hours of waiting,” he muttered, settling in to watch the spectacle. The only hope he had of soloing the final boss was to subdimensionalize it. For that, he needed time. Lots of time.

  Deckard settled into a crouch at the mouth of the tunnel, watching the underlings scuttle beneath the claw. He couldn’t help but think back to when he’d first entered the game, struggling to even hunt a seagull. Back then, every victory felt like a miracle, every feather a trophy. Now, here he was, soloing a dungeon boss. The gap between those moments felt massive.

  “Alright,” he muttered, grabbing his cards. “Let’s speed this up.”

  Deckard walked back a few steps. Then, like he'd done many times before, he sprinted toward his target, rotating his shoulder, elbow, and wrist and putting all his body's momentum into the throw.

  The card flew true, crossing the space and heading toward the massive claw. However, it ricocheted harmlessly off the claw’s surface, the sound echoing in the chamber.

  You've watched how sturdy the Claw’s defense is.

  Your understanding of it grows.

  The Claw shrieked loudly, the sound reverberating through the chamber like a piercing war cry. The underlings stirred, energized by their leader's command, scuttling in a frenzied dance beneath the massive claw. Then, in a synchronized effort, they surged forward and hurled the crab toward Deckard as if it were a living battering ram.

  The claw hit the rock wall with an ear-splitting crack, the force shaking the very ground beneath Deckard's feet. Dust and debris exploded outward in a choking cloud, bits of shattered stone raining down like shrapnel. For a split second, Deckard’s vision blurred as the vibrations traveled through the walls and into his body. He staggered back, steadying himself against the tunnel’s edge.

  When the dust began to settle, Deckard saw the sheer devastation left by the impact. The claw had embedded itself into the rock, fissures spreading outward like a spider’s web. The edge of the pincers jutted into the tunnel, their jagged tips snapping shut blindly, each metallic clack loud enough to send a shiver down his spine.

  The claw withdrew slightly before snapping again, the force so strong it sent a fresh wave of cracks splintering through the wall. The tunnel groaned in protest, dust cascading from above with each movement.

  The sheer strength on display was overwhelming. If Deckard had been in the chamber when that claw was thrown, there wouldn’t have been a trace of him left—just a smear on the rocks.

  You've watched how the Claw fends off invaders.

  Your understanding of it grows.

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  It’s working! Good!

  He got in position again and prepared for yet another card throw at point-blank range. Again, the claw deflected the attack.

  You've watched how sturdy the Claw’s defense is.

  Your understanding of it grows.

  Deckard kept throwing card after card and watched as the Claw tried to get at him. Ironically, this boss was much easier than the Spider Crab. Deckard could keep provoking and attacking the Claw by using the terrain. He would have been dead meat if he'd done that to the Spider Crab, who could climb walls and even walk upside down on the ceiling.

  At the same time, other hunting parties would have never been able to finish the boss this way. The giant claw was indestructible. Only by targeting its more fragile body was it possible to defeat it, and for that, they had to be caged in with the beast.

  With every throw, Deckard watched the boss’s reaction—or lack thereof. The game’s interface flickered, indicating that his observations were paying off.

  Time passed. Deckard launched card after card, keeping the underlings agitated and the claw attacking.

  Deckard rolled his shoulders and stretched his legs. His throw was getting better—sharper, more precise. He wasn’t just provoking the boss. He was trying to unlock a new lottery skill.

  The truth was that the system already kind of recognized this as a skill. He got a critical hit whenever he put all his body momentum into a throw. That meant the system noted his efforts and technique and rewarded him for it. Going from there to unlocking a skill was only a small step.

  Time ticked by as Deckard honed his throws and observed the boss’s movements. He got notification after notification that his understanding of The Claw was growing.

  After an hour, finally, there was only one card left in his inventory. He opened his repository to check how the drawing of The Claw looked. It was lifelike and colorful. Despite spending less time observing The Claw than the Spider Crab, since he had been provoking and attacking The Claw all the time, he had sped up the process.

  Despite his effort in perfecting his throws, no new skill notification appeared. Deckard sighed, adjusting his glasses. “Figures,” he muttered. But he wasn’t discouraged. He knew how the system worked—it rewarded perseverance. If not today, then another dungeon. Another boss.

  “It's time to wrap this up.”

  Deckard grabbed an empty card and stretched his hand in the direction of the boss.

  Sub-dimensionalize!

  The system seemed to weigh Deckard's understanding against the Claw's resistance. For a moment, there was a silent, tense stalemate. Then, a vortex appeared.

  The Claw resisted, its massive form trembling against the pull of the card. A deafening screech echoed through the chamber, the underlings scattering as if sensing their master’s impending fate. The vortex around the card wavered, its edges flickering as if the process might fail. Deckard tightened his grip, pouring his focus into the act. Then, with a final, guttural roar, the Claw collapsed into a blinding burst of light, disappearing into the card.

  The underlings carrying it spread out, fleeing and leaving only the boss’ loot behind.

  Congratulations! You've cleared the [Molting Grotto].

  Congratulations! You've unlocked a new title: [Lone Wolf].

  Lone Wolf (Rare)

  Description: You refuse to put others in harm's way and tackle the fears of the dark alone.

  Effects:

  Passive. +5 attack, +5% damage resistance, +5% status resistance when running dungeons.

  Bonus doubles when running a dungeon alone.

  Conditions to unlock [Lone Wolf]:

  To run a complete dungeon matching your level by yourself. {complete}

  Deckard's eyes practically popped out of their sockets. “What a broken title!” It was so much better than the one he got after running his first dungeon. Moreover, it fit him like a glove. True, it only did anything when inside the dungeon. But still.

  With such a juicy bonus, Deckard would have to keep going back to dungeons. Inside each dungeon, he got +10 attack, not to speak of the other bonuses to defense.

  The rest was all good too. Damage resistance should be whatever mitigates damage, and status resistance should be to reduce slows, stuns, etc… Deckard reasoned.

  Deckard turned toward the other rewards—first, the boss card.

  Deckard raised an eyebrow. It was a funny card. On the one hand, the ‘Claw’ part was awesome. On the other hand, the little crab was the first card he'd seen with negative points.

  “High risk, high reward.”

  It wasn’t a card you played lightly, but in the right deck, it could be devastating. He smirked, already imagining ways to build around it. “You’re a wildcard,” he muttered, tucking it away.

  He put it in his repository.

  +0.5 attack.

  “Woah? That much attack?! It's even better than I expected.”

  Elites granted 0.2 of whatever modifier, but boss cards granted half a point.

  Deckard surveyed the rest of the loot scattered before him. There were the usual crab shells and meat, which he stashed away. Then, his eyes fell upon a helmet, a mace, and a skill card.

  He picked up the helmet first. It was heavier than it looked, crafted from interlocking dark metal plates and adorned with small, chitinous spikes reminiscent of crab legs.

  Crustacean Helm (Common)

  Description:

  Effects:

  +7 strength

  +5 dexterity

  +20HP

  Deckard examined it closely. The stats were decent but did nothing for him. Players would go nuts for it.

  Next, he lifted the mace. The handle was wrapped in rough leather, and the head was fashioned from a solid chunk of coral embedded with jagged seashell fragments.

  Coral Crusher (Uncommon)

  Description:

  Attack: +25

  Effect: Has a 10% chance to stun the enemy for 2 seconds on hit.

  "Impressive," Deckard mused. The attack stat was substantial, and the stun effect could turn the tide in close combat. But again, it wasn't for him. Someone specializing in melee combat might pay a premium for this weapon, though.

  He then looked at the skill card. It was another [Scuttle Sidestep].

  "Another one of these," he sighed. Skill cards were valuable, but duplicates didn't stack in the repository. He would try trading it or selling it to another player for a good price.

  Looking back, the Spider Crab had been the real hero of the dungeon. Its card had given him an edge, and he knew there were more crab cards to collect—each with unique abilities and stats that could enhance his deck.

  Deckard took a deep breath, a satisfied smile forming on his face. The path ahead was clear. With newfound confidence and a title that embodied his approach to the game, he was ready for whatever challenges awaited.

  He cracked his neck and stretched.

  “I still have several crab cards to collect. Time to trade.”

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