Leveling Up By Surviving Alone - L.U.B.S.A Chapter 94

Well then.

It seemed like the situation had been resolved peacefully.

Yeonwoo glanced at Jung Yaong.

“Shall we get going now?”

He took a few steps through the thick snow.

Come to think of it, this might have been the first time he’d encountered a monster without any real conflict.

Somehow, that spoiled little brat even seemed a little cute now.

Thinking he might as well wave goodbye, he turned around—but they were already gone.

‘Vanished without a trace?’

Being rabbits, he expected them to have hopped away.

But no.

Rumble rumble rumble—

The ground began to shake.

Something like black threads moved intermittently across the white snow.

Against the stark white backdrop, they stood out vividly—letters.

About font size 3 if typed on a computer.

The letters grew larger until Yeonwoo could read them clearly:

*[Frostfield Snowhare (B+)]*

“Wha—?!”

CRASH—!

Something burst out from beneath his feet.

Too sudden to react—his sluggish state made dodging impossible.

And in that moment of realization—

……!

Yeonwoo sensed he had entered a domain.

In slow motion, something small and fluffy, about the size of a pot lid—

A fist?

A fist aimed squarely at his jaw.

And behind it, a round, white face—the rabbit’s.

Groooowl!

A face that looked like it belonged to a hardened gangster.

It was the baby rabbit’s father.

Yeonwoo was too late to evade.

But—

He could still graze past it—and drive his own fist into the rabbit’s face as it rose.

A cross-counter!

Whoosh—

WHAM!!

“Ow, come on, sir, this is uncalled for, isn’t it?”

Yeonwoo staggered back after landing a solid hit.

Ahead of him, the rabbit lay sprawled in the snow—utterly humiliated by its own failed ambush.

Pii… piiik…!

The father hare’s red eyes burned with frustration.

It had attacked first, yet it was the one who got hit—understandable confusion. But the emotion on its face wasn’t just defeat.

It was…

Pii! Piiiii!

The baby hare screeching in the background.

Its cries sounded like, “Dad! Dad, are you okay?!”

The father hare turned and forced a reassuring smile—

Splurt!

—just as twin streams of blood gushed from its nose.

Piiiiiiiiii!

Groooan…!

Yeonwoo felt a pang of guilt.

“Hmm…”

I’m the one who got attacked, so why do I feel bad?

Grrroooowl!

The father hare glared back at him, fury blazing in its eyes.

“Calm down. No need to escalate a kid’s fight into an adult brawl, right?”

GRROOOOAR!

The hare charged like a bear, its presence overwhelming.

Watching it, Yeonwoo was reminded of the past.

A memory of coming home bruised.

His father, rarely home, had shot up from his seat at the sight of Yeonwoo’s black eye.

He dragged Yeonwoo to the other kid’s house, listened to both sides, and cleared up the misunderstanding.

Then they returned home—both now sporting matching black eyes.

The result of a “Well, your son started—” argument that escalated into a flipped tea table.

The fact that the other father got beaten worse was the only consolation for the immature duo.

—

*– “Yeonwoo, why’d you backseat his game?”*

*– “He was playing badly… ugh.”*

*– “Because of you, he lost 2,000 won.”*

*– “But he flipped the board and threw the first punch!”*

*– “Fighting back just makes you the same. Don’t do it next time.”*

*– “Okay…”*

*– “But you did good. If you get hit, hit back. Just don’t go around getting hurt. It breaks my heart.”*

“Tch.”

Yeonwoo sheathed Jawsbar.

He didn’t want to kill it.

But he wouldn’t run either.

So he raised his guard.

‘I was the hand-to-hand combat rep during Hunter training.’

Hunter combat styles varied by country—Korea’s blended boxing, judo, and taekwondo for practicality.

GRROOOOAR!

The hare swung a fist, its trajectory sharp—clearly where its kid had learned its moves.

But Yeonwoo wasn’t fazed.

He dodged—

Hook!

A liver shot.

THUD!

Groooak!

The exchange continued.

Yeonwoo dodged and countered; the father hare tanked hits and retaliated unfazed.

Dodge—

Wham!

Repeat.

About twelve times?

Dodge, strike, dodge, strike—

Whoosh—

CRACK!!

Groooan…!

The hare’s legs gave out, and it collapsed.

Even the toughest defense crumbles under relentless blows.

But the father hare couldn’t stay down.

Not with its child wailing behind it.

Piii! Piiii! Piiiiii!

The desperate cries of “Dad! Get up! Please…!”

The hare forced itself up, straining every muscle.

Yeonwoo could only sigh.

His eyes said, ‘You know this is pointless.’

The hare’s eyes replied, ‘A father’s duty…!’

If it stood, Round 2 would begin—

And this time, it’d be a fight to the death.

Yeonwoo had grown strong enough to survive.

But he’d have to kill the hare instead.

As it staggered up, Yeonwoo made his choice.

He lunged at the unsteady hare—

The father swung wildly—

And its world flipped.

Groo—?

WHAM!

Pinned face-down into the snow like a nail.

Compacted snow was hard as stone.

Gurgle…!

Blood sprayed from its mouth.

It wouldn’t die—if Yeonwoo wanted it dead, he’d have used his blade.

Piiiiiiii!

The baby hare rushed at Yeonwoo, fists flailing.

Ddododododo!

Its punches were as fast as Wing Chun, but they posed no threat to Ji Yeonwoo.

Ddodododo!

He let the blows land on his thighs as he watched the father hare.

Groooowl…!

For the first time, fear flickered in its eyes—fear for its child.

Yeonwoo met its gaze and waved.

“Next time I see you, I’m eating you.”

Gulp!

The hare blinked.

Yeonwoo took that as agreement.

Whoosh!

He turned to leave.

The baby hare, still throwing punches, tripped and face-planted chasing him.

Piiiiiiii!

—

***

Carrying Jung Yaong, Yeonwoo grumbled on the way back.

“What a weird experience. Right? Felt like I was the villain.”

The Watcher, who had been quietly observing his expression, chimed in.

—

*Watcher says you look like you’re in a good mood for someone complaining.*

“Heh heh! It pissed me off at first, but it was kinda fun.”

*– Watcher calls you a strange person.*

“Yeah, no idea why either.”

*– Asks if that was Hunter combat earlier.*

“Yep! Pretty decent for an F-rank, huh?”

New Hunters undergo a month-long training camp covering various skills—Hunter combat among them.

Yeonwoo had stood out back then.

(Though “standing out” among F-ranks paled compared to the prodigies starting at C-rank and above.)

Still, the instructor had praised his instincts and recommended close-quarters combat.

—

*– The Watcher asks why he chose ranged combat instead.*

“Couldn’t afford to get hurt. No dad, had to earn money—injuries weren’t an option.”

*– The Watcher falls silent.*

“Heh.”

Though he never became a close-quarters specialist, he kept training.

In the Hunter world, betrayal was as deadly as monsters.

(Thankfully, he’d never been stabbed by a comrade.)

—

*– The Watcher suggests leaving soon to reunite with his parents.*

“Yeah. I’d like that too!”

Back at Snow Cave, Yeonwoo burrowed into his lightning-goose-feather sleeping bag.

And—

Zzzzz…!

—was out instantly.

Myaaooong…

Jung Yaong watched him curiously.

Falling asleep the moment he lies down?

What a fascinating pseudo-monkey.

His techniques were unlike anything the cub had seen in its lifetime.

The eerie power that shattered the ice wall had sent even a full-grown Jung Yaong leaping like a kitten.

Worth keeping alive to observe.

Myaooong…

But something nagged at the cub.

It knew about Frostfield Snowhares.

Should it wake Yeonwoo? Or not?

Myaong~

Jung Yaong curled up and began grooming itself.

This much hardship, Yeonwoo could handle.

—

*****

The sky always turns red just before sunset.

But even that couldn’t dye the snow as deeply as one thing could.

Blood.

Amid the crimson-stained snow lay the father hare—half-buried.

A crowd surrounded the fallen patient.

Monsters with the same fur, ears, and build.

Frostfield Snowhares.

Piiiiik…

Amid the mournful cries, footsteps approached from behind.

The crowd parted.

A towering figure—2 meters tall, expressionless eyes, coarse cream-colored fur (unlike the others’ white).

The sobbing baby hare spotted its grandfather and rushed over.

Piiii! Pii! Piiiiii!

As the elder listened, a red glow ignited in his aged eyes.

The grandchild’s tiny paw pointed toward the mountain peak.

The elder’s gaze shifted between father and child.

Like father, like son—their twin nosebleeds were almost heartwarming.

Piiik…!