[Ouroboros Ring] had indeed given him unlimited room for trial and error, the confidence to face this world head-on.
But it was more than a gift. It was a door leading into the abyss.
Death was often the final safeguard of human reason.
If a person no longer feared death, they were not far from being utterly consumed by desire.
Having died once before, Lance understood the weighty meaning of life better than anyone.
So he would never rely on his ability to resurrect and indulge himself recklessly.
To him, this Talent would forever be nothing more than the final safety net in his life, a trump card for turning the tables against the odds—not a bargaining chip to squander his life.
Carrying those heavy thoughts, Lance walked into the general store.
Then, clutching his chest in pain, he paid ten copper coins.
A small jar of anti-rust grease and a coarse whetstone appeared on the table.
That Fine Steel shortsword had pierced through a Goblin's face today, staining it with corrosive monster blood.
It had to be thoroughly cleaned and sharpened, then coated with a thick layer of grease to prevent rust, ensuring it would still be sharp the next time he drew it.
As for the wooden shield, although several shallow dents had been smashed into its surface by stones, the handle remained sturdy and secure. It did not need repairs for now.
After completing the basic maintenance, Lance turned and headed to the weapon shop next door.
He had not forgotten today's lesson.
As a lone adventurer, lacking a means of ranged attack was a fatal weakness.
"Boss, do you have crossbow bolts?"
Lance asked as soon as he entered.
In his mind, crossbows were easy to use and powerful, making them the best choice for beginners.
However, the bearded shopkeeper shook his head and pointed at several longbows hanging on the wall.
"Young man, take my advice. If you're heading into a forest or a dungeon, you'd better not use those things."
After hearing the shopkeeper's explanation, Lance finally understood.
Why most of the adventurers he had seen in the guild hall carried longbows on their backs.
Although crossbows were easy to pick up, maintaining them in complex adventuring environments was a nightmare.
Their delicate mechanisms could easily jam from water, mud, sand, or impacts.
Once damaged in battle, an ordinary person simply could not repair one out in the wild.
By comparison, bows had far simpler structures.
A flexible piece of wood and a tough bowstring were enough to handle most harsh environments.
Moreover, in the hands of someone Proficient, a bow's firing speed and power were no weaker than a crossbow's.
Following the professional's advice, Lance ultimately chose a shortbow made of hazelwood.
The bow cost him fifty copper coins.
But what truly made his heart ache were the arrows.
Each of these carved wooden-shafted, feather-fletched arrows cost a full copper coin.
Lance gritted his teeth and bought fifty at once.
They were consumables, and there would inevitably be heavy losses and plenty of lost arrows during early practice.
He did not aim too high and buy a more powerful hunting bow.
This hazelwood shortbow only had an effective killing range of around thirty paces, but for a beginner like him who had never even touched a bow before, it was more than enough.
At any greater distance, he would not be able to hit the target with his current skill anyway.
His shopping complete.
Lance returned to his residence.
Rather than a residence, it was more like a somewhat cramped attic room.
The room was tiny, with space for only a hard bed and a square wooden table with a chipped corner.
The only window was set into the slanted roof, barely allowing a little noon sunlight in.
Though the walls had been whitewashed with lime, they could not conceal the musty scent unique to old wood.
Yet the monthly rent for this "pigeon coop," where turning around was difficult, was as high as four silver coins.
That price was certainly not cheap in Grayrock Town.
But Lance paid it willingly.
This place was located behind the bustling commercial street, less than ten meters from the constable's patrol route.
The surrounding taverns and inns stayed open all night, their lights bright even in the dead of night.
The original owner of this body had died because he had been greedy for cheap rent and lived on the edge of a lawless slum, giving that thief an opening.
In Lance's view, trading money for safety was an absolutely worthwhile deal.
Once he had more money on hand, it would not be too late to move into a detached house with its own courtyard.
Lance removed the pack from his back and took out the clump of wet Blood-Clotting Moss.
He opened Basic Botany and Simple Potionmaking and began processing the materials according to the steps in the book.
Since he lacked professional alchemical equipment, he could not use the extraction method.
He could only find a clean piece of linen, carefully remove the dirt and impurities from the moss, then spread it flat on the ventilated windowsill.
This kind of moss grew beside waterfalls by nature, with an extremely high water content and thick, sticky sap.
Using this primitive method of natural air-drying would take at least around three days.
And throughout the process, he would need to keep turning it over to prevent it from becoming damp and moldy.
Once it grew moldy, all the materials he had painstakingly collected would be ruined.
After handling everything, Lance sat by the bed and habitually summoned the system panel, preparing to check the development progress of the [Hemostatic Ointment] formula.
However, the moment the panel appeared, his attention was drawn to an icon beside it that had suddenly lit up.
The previously grayed-out [Biological Research] section was now emitting a faint glow.
Lance paused, then quickly realized what had happened.
Today, he had not only encountered monsters, but had personally killed four Goblins.
This had clearly triggered the system's unlock condition.
A clear line of text appeared on his retina.
[System Notification: Valid biological samples detected. "Biological Research" module activated.]
As he focused his thoughts, a new page slowly unfolded.
In the previously empty Compendium list, the first card had lit up.
The card depicted a small green creature with a vicious face, wielding a bone club, with detailed information marked beside it.
Biological Compendium: Demi-Human Species: Goblin
Current Research Progress: LV 1 (4/20)
The number "4" undoubtedly corresponded to the four souls that had fallen beneath his sword today.
In other words, he only needed to kill sixteen more of these green-skinned monsters to fill the first stage of the progress bar.
"Doesn't look too difficult."
Lance rubbed his chin.
According to the settings of the game he remembered, whenever the Research level of a creature increased, players could receive special rewards.
After reaching Research level three, they could draw that creature's racial Talent.
Although Goblins occupied the lowest mud pit in the monster hierarchy of contempt, that did not mean they were worthless.
On the contrary, the fact that they had multiplied like weeds in the cruel natural world until now meant they possessed certain Talents that even humans envied.
For example, the Talent known as [Low-Light Vision].
Creatures with this ability could capture faint light to the greatest extent possible.
Even deep within dim caves, they could see as clearly as humans did on an overcast day.
For adventurers who often needed to venture deep into dungeons or operate at night, it was practically a godlike skill.
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