Chapter 2: Baptism by Fang and Claw

The world swam into focus, a kaleidoscope of pain and confusion. A metallic tang filled Wushuang's mouth, and a throbbing ache pulsed in his skull. He blinked, trying to clear his vision, the harsh sunlight filtering through a canopy of twisted, crimson trees disorienting him. Disbelief clawed at him. This wasn't his apartment. This wasn't anywhere he recognized.

A guttural growl ripped through the air, snapping him back to reality. A hulking creature, a monstrous fusion of wolf and bear, stood before him, its slavering jaws inches from his face. Its fur, a matted mess of black and brown, bristled with aggression, and razor-sharp claws glinted in the blood-red sunlight. Panic surged through him, momentarily paralyzing.

Instinct, honed by years spent conquering virtual battlegrounds in LOTSF, kicked in. A primal scream tore from his throat as he scrambled backwards, the hilt of a sword cool against his palm. He hadn't brought this sword with him. It had materialized in his hand moments before the beast lunged.

His back hit a rough wooden barrier, the unexpected resistance snapping him out of his blind fear. He glanced back, catching a glimpse of a hastily constructed wooden gate, its surface marred with claw marks and scorched by fire. Beyond the gate, a group of figures, clad in mismatched leather armor and wielding an assortment of weapons, watched with a mixture of surprise and grim determination.

Understanding dawned in a horrifying flash. Wushuang wasn't the monster's target – he was the unexpected backup. A surge of adrenaline flooded his system, replacing fear with a cold, steely resolve. This was a fight for survival, a baptism by fang and claw.

He raised the sword, its weight surprisingly familiar in his hands. It felt more than just a weapon; it felt like an extension of himself. He couldn't explain it, but a sense of presence, a faint hum of power resonated from the blade, urging him forward.

The beast roared again, its fury palpable. It lunged, a blur of teeth and claws. Wushuang, fueled by adrenaline and a desperate hope, drew on his years of gaming experience. He dodged the first swipe, rolling to the side with surprising agility that belied his injured wrist. The beast crashed into the gate, the wood splintering under the impact.

Years of meticulously studying enemy attack patterns in LOTSF came alive. He recognized the creature's movements, its predictable lunges and telegraphed attacks. He danced around the beast, a whirlwind of desperate movement, searching for an opening.

One of the figures behind the gate, a woman with fiery red hair and a wickedly curved hunting bow, let loose an arrow. It found its mark, burying itself deep into the beast's shoulder. The creature roared in pain, momentarily distracted.

Seizing the opportunity, Wushuang darted forward. Memories of countless boss fights flooded his mind – exploiting weaknesses, finding the critical hit. He focused on the base of the creature's neck, a vulnerable spot he recognized from countless in-game encounters with similar beasts.

The sword felt weightless in his hand as he swung it with all his might. A sickening clang echoed as the blade met bone. The beast convulsed, its roar cut short by a surprised gurgle. It stumbled back, a gaping wound marking its throat.

Before it could recover, the group behind the gate surged forward. A burly man with a chipped broadsword delivered the final blow, cleaving the creature's skull in two. It crumpled to the ground, a lifeless husk.

Silence descended, broken only by Wushuang's ragged breaths. He sagged against the gate, his body trembling with exertion and the lingering adrenaline rush. As his strength returned, a wave of nausea washed over him. He coughed, tasting blood on his tongue. The metallic tang reminded him of the reality of the situation - this wasn't a game. This was real, and he had just killed a monster.

The woman with the red hair approached him, her emerald eyes filled with a mixture of curiosity and wariness. "Who are you?" she asked, her voice a low rasp.

Wushuang looked at her, then at the others, their faces etched with a mixture of exhaustion and relief. He opened his mouth to speak, but the only words that came out were, "I... I don't know."