Chapter 6 — The White Fluffy Rabbit

Chapter 6 — The White Fluffy Rabbit

He trained almost without stopping.

When he got tired, he took a short break. Five, maybe ten minutes. Sometimes he simply lay down right on the floor, closed his eyes, and waited until his breathing steadied. Then he stood up — and continued.

When he was too exhausted, when his muscles burned and his arms trembled — he created a health potion. Drank it — and everything vanished.

As if he had just woken up. A full, deep, eight-hour sleep. No pain, no heaviness in the body.

And once again, he went back to training.

Again and again. Without mercy. Without doubt.

Every time he completed another level in the Training Room, he immediately spent the gained experience to raise his level.
And every time — without exception — he used all the free stat points to increase his mana.

More mana — more potions.
More potions — more endurance.
More endurance — more training.
More training — more experience.

A closed loop. A perfect cycle.

He moved along it like a spiral upward. Every action fed the next. Simple. Precise.

And with each turn, he felt the changes. His muscles grew stronger. His movements became lighter. His mind — clearer. His body recovered faster, even without potions.

It seemed the system had not been designed for someone to use it like this.

But he did.

He did not know why. He did not know what it would lead to. But he felt: this was necessary.

He was building himself.
Forging power.
Forming will.
Preparing for something.

Repetition after repetition.
With each new level, the training became more difficult.

Not because the weights became heavier.
The dumbbells and barbells remained the same — unless Alisar increased his stats.
But because more and more repetitions were required.

At the first level, a hundred movements were enough — and the progress bar filled completely.
At the second level — already two hundred.
At the third — three hundred.
With each level, the amount of work grew.
With each level — it took more time, more effort, more willpower.

He had long stopped counting how many hours had passed. He simply continued.
He trained. Rested. Drank water. Occasionally — a health potion if he was too exhausted.
And trained again.

Finally, he completed the eighteenth level of the training room.

> Level 18 completed.
Experience gained: 800,000 points.

He sat down on the floor, caught his breath, and closed his eyes. Then, almost without thinking, he opened the menu and spent all the experience gained — on leveling up.

When a wave of energy passed through his body, he felt that he had become stronger again.

Then, out of habit, he opened the attribute allocation window.

All free points were spent on increasing mana regeneration rate, so that he would have to rest less and be able to create potions more often.

He distributed everything. Confirmed.

Then he opened the status window to see what he had become now.

---

Name: Alisar
Level: 29
Rank: 2

HP: 2450 + 720
MP: 2640 + 1080

Strength: 99 + 24
Defense: 72 + 24
Speed: 74 + 24
Intellect: 96 + 36
Magic Power: 79 + 36
Magic Defense: 89 + 36

Free Attribute Points: 0

Skills: —

Special Skills:
— Training Room (Level 19)
— Alchemy (Rank 1)

Experience Points: 545,000 points

---

"Just five thousand more — and I’ll reach level thirty," he thought, looking at his status. "But each time, leveling up becomes harder and harder."

Health potions restored his body — completely. As if he had just slept a full eight hours of deep, restful sleep. No pain, no muscle fatigue. He could keep training endlessly.

But the mental fatigue… remained.

Even after drinking a potion, he felt that his mind was worn out. His thoughts were scattered, and his focus kept slipping.

“Damn… looks like the potion doesn’t help with that,” he muttered.

“It’s time to rest.”

He immediately left the training room — and in the same instant, he found himself on the riverbank.

The same soft grass, the coolness from the water, the light breeze. He inhaled deeply — fresh air filled his lungs.

He raised his head.
The sun was still high in the sky, but it was no longer at its zenith. It had dropped a little lower — as if three or four hours had passed since noon. The light remained bright, but the shadows had begun to lengthen. It felt as though the day in this world lasted unusually long.

"Since I woke up here, by my calculations, almost two full days have passed... And the sun is only just beginning to dip toward the horizon?" he wondered. It seemed unnatural.

Suddenly, his stomach let out a loud sound, and he felt hunger.

“Damn, I haven’t eaten anything for almost two days. How could I forget about that? I’ve only been drinking water.”

He looked around. There was only grass and the river.

He looked at the water. The river flowed calmly. Through the clear water, he could see stones, underwater plants, and fish. He saw fish here and there. The large ones were about twenty to thirty centimeters long. The small ones — just two or three centimeters. They swam around peacefully, without fear.

“Yeah… I could go for some sushi right now. Even though I don’t really like fish. But at this moment — I’d eat it gladly,” he said.

He slowly stepped into the water. Carefully.

The water was cold. But he was used to that. Every morning he had taken cold showers — not because it was good for his health, but because his apartment didn’t have hot water.

He waded into the river and tried to catch a fish.

Nothing.

He tried again. And again.

Half an hour later, soaked and tired, he climbed back onto the riverbank. He looked at the river, at the swimming fish.

“That wasn’t your victory. I let you go! You didn’t escape!” he shouted at them.

The fish, of course, didn’t respond. And didn’t understand.

“Damn… Fine. I don’t like sushi anyway. And I don’t know how to make a fire,” he thought.

He lay down on the grass to rest for a bit.

As he lay there resting, his gaze suddenly fell on a nearby bush. Its branches were covered in red berries that looked like raspberries. The bush was very close—within arm’s reach. Alisar reached out, picked one berry, and tasted it.

The flavor was unexpectedly delightful—rich, sweet, slightly tart, but incredibly delicious. Far better than any raspberry he had ever tasted in his previous life. He immediately stood up and, within a minute, had eaten all the berries from the bush.

Looking around, he noticed that similar bushes were growing nearby—here and there, between the grass. Why hadn’t he seen them before? It seemed he had wandered too far while chasing fish along the river and simply hadn’t noticed them earlier.

He went straight to the next bush—and ate the berries. Then to the next one. And another. He ate them one after another, until he finally began to feel full.

Once he was full, his mood suddenly improved dramatically. The world around him burst into color, the air seemed especially fresh, the sky exceptionally blue, the water almost alive. He didn’t realize it right away, but it seemed the berries had a mild narcotic effect.

He got up and walked along the riverbank, smiling slightly. Everything seemed unusually beautiful and bright. He felt light, almost euphoric.

And then, a short distance away, he saw a white rabbit. Fluffy, clean—as if it were a toy.

“A white fluffy rabbit,” he murmured with a kind smile.

Still in his good mood, he slowly approached. The rabbit didn’t run. It simply sat there and looked directly at Alisar. Even when he was only a step away, the rabbit didn’t move.

Alisar crouched down, plucked a handful of grass, and held it out to the rabbit.

“Here, eat. The grass is tasty,” he said kindly.

Suddenly, he felt a terrible pain in his hand. Instead of taking the grass, the rabbit bit his hand—and very hard.

He raised his hand. The rabbit did not let go. He stood up and began waving his arms. Finally, the rabbit released his hand and fell onto the tall grass nearby.

“Damn, damn, that hurts,” he muttered. The pain quickly brought his consciousness back. He looked at his hand. It was bleeding, but not heavily. There were terrible bite marks visible. It seemed the rabbit tried to tear off his hand but lacked the strength.

He began cursing that damn rabbit in his mind.

Suddenly, another rabbit emerged from the grass. Now he saw that it was not a white fluffy rabbit, but a grayish, dirty one with huge teeth in its jaw. Its red eyes looked at him as if he were a piece of meat.

“Damn, you want to eat me? Just try!” he said angrily.

Then a second rabbit appeared. Then a third, then a fourth. The tenth, the thirteenth. Dozens of rabbits came out of the grass.

Alisar looked at them. His eyes filled with fear—the primal fear of death.

He turned around and ran with all his might away from the rabbits.