THE GOD OF MISFORTUNE
Chapter 7: (CH6)THE GRIND

Chapter 7: (CH6)THE GRIND

The City Was a Death Trap

They barely made it out alive.

After dodging collapsing skyscrapers, lightning-wielding maniacs, and something that looked like a centipede made of meat grinders, Luis and Zyx ditched the city. Not because they had a plan, but because they were out of options.

The Forest of Low-Level HorrorsIf the city was a warzone, the forest was an old-school grindfest. Less dramatic. More bugs.

Luis tightened his grip on the wrench—his trusty, slightly-bent sidekick—as he trudged through the underbrush. Moonlight filtered through the thick canopy above, casting twisted shadows across the uneven forest floor.

The trees groaned with age. Branches creaked like bones. The air stank of wet leaves, blood, and rabbit poop.

His HUD listed local threats like a creepy zoo exhibit:

Rustfang Hares (Lv. 1–2): Cute, until they lunge at your face with iron teeth.

Bramble Crawlers (Lv. 3): Like spiders, but with thorn-launching cannons. Yay.

Shade Stalkers (Lv. 4–5): Shadow wolves that bled darkness. Because regular wolves weren’t scary enough.

Zyx floated above a fern, completely unbothered. "Alright, champ. Remember: this isn’t about honor. It’s about soul farming. Think of it as morally questionable gardening."

Luis muttered, "I hate gardening."

Then, something darted out from a bush—a Rustfang Hare with blood-red eyes and teeth like pocket knives.

Luis swung his wrench.

WHIFF.

The hare twisted in midair, teeth aiming for his throat.

CRACK.

Luis’s second swing connected, sending the critter flying into a tree with a wet thud. Its body twitched once before dissolving into black mist. The Soul Essence floated into his hand like sparks drawn to a magnet.

+5 SOUL ESSENCE

Zyx clapped, mock-golf style. "Only took two swings and mild emotional trauma. Progress!"

The Soul Grind

What followed was four hours of madness.

Luis got scratched, bitten, and thorned in places thorns should never be.

He learned that Rustfangs could jump higher than expected, Bramble Crawlers were immune to sarcasm, and Shade Stalkers did not like being called "edgy mutts."

By sunrise, he looked like someone who’d lost a fight with a blender.

Final kill count:

22 Rustfang Hares (5 Souls each)

7 Bramble Crawlers (15 Souls each)

3 Shade Stalkers (25 Souls each)

[TOTAL SOUL ESSENCE: 300]

Luis flopped down against a mossy rock, bleeding slightly and wheezing like a vacuum cleaner on its last legs.

"I need... a better weapon," he groaned.

The Crafting Revelation

Back in his cramped apartment—AKA The Fortress of Regret—Luis popped open the Divine Blueprint menu. A warm, electric tingle buzzed in his fingertips as the holographic UI bloomed to life.

[AVAILABLE CRAFTS]

Scrap Hammer (2000 Souls)+10% swing mobility+5% movement speed2% stun chance

Rustplate Vest (2500 Souls)Might protect your ribs! Probably.

Crude Healing Salve (1500 Souls)Like aloe vera, but sadder.

Luis pointed at the hammer, eyes gleaming with renewed hope. "That. That’s my next goal. Better swing speed, better dodge, and—look! A 2% chance to stun. That could save my life!"

Zyx floated closer and squinted. "A 2% stun chance. Wow. Truly, the gods are quaking in their divine boots."

Luis scowled. "Better than this bent wrench! This thing’s held together by spite and duct tape."

"You’d need to kill, what, 40 more Shade Stalkers to get that hammer," Zyx said, floating lazily in circles. "That’s assuming you don’t get shredded into hamburger meat first."

Luis groaned and flopped back on his bed. "There’s gotta be a faster way."

Zyx grinned, all teeth and mischief. "There is. But you’re not gonna like it."

Luis peeked up. "Please don’t say ’steal from another Host.’"

"I wasn’t gonna—okay, I was gonna say that, but technically it’s called ’strategic scavenging.’"

Luis closed his eyes. "I hate you."

"Love you too, partner," Zyx said sweetly, then glanced toward the window as something howled in the distance.

[SURVIVING HOSTS: 995,712]

The counter ticked again. Someone out there just lost their last life.

Luis sighed. "Fine. Back to the grind tomorrow."

Zyx smirked. "Sleep tight, soul farmer. Try not to dream of bunnies with knives."

Luis grunted and pulled a blanket over his head. "If I die in my sleep, bury me with the wrench."

Zyx nodded solemnly. "I’ll sell it for scrap."