《Inferno》


 Prologue: The Inferno

    <h1>Prologue: The Inferno</h1>


    On the 31st of December, 2016, I died.


    How did I die?


    I¡¯d like to say I died rescuing a cute girl from a burning building. Or maybe struggling to the death against a crazed gunman, buying time for innocent civilians to reach safety. Even pushing a child out of the way of an oncoming truck would have made for a fine tale.


    I wish I were that type of person.


    No, all I spent all my time at home in front of my computer in a pitch black room, grinding MMORPG¡¯s eighteen hours a day. My meals consisted of cup noodles and take away, with a side of cola and energy drinks. My parents thought I was diligently studying while they were away on business, trying my hardest to enter a good university, when in actual fact I was skipping school to play games. I didn¡¯t have many friends, let alone a girlfriend, and I had but one purpose in my life.


    I lived for the sake of holding my place at the top of the rankings, in whatever game I was playing.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    My username was <Inferno>, the embodiment of hell. People called me many things: aimbotter, hacker, cheater. I was none of those.


    I was simply a boy who dedicated more time to a virtual world than to real life.


    Maybe that was why I¡¯d been chosen to die, right on New Year¡¯s Eve.


    How did I die?


    I guess there¡¯s no avoiding it. I can¡¯t exactly say something like ¡®It¡¯s a long story.¡¯


    I died because I ran out of cup noodles.


    It was a busy night, full of normies and their wild drinking and partying. The fireworks bloomed like flowers in the sky, a sight for my sore eyes. I remember walking out of the convenience store with a plastic bag full of cup noodles and Red Cow energy drinks.


    It just so happened that I placed my foot wrongly on a stray alcohol bottle and slipped.


    Yep. I died because I slipped on a piece of litter and hit my head too hard, all for cup noodles.


    Pathetic, right?


    The legendary Inferno meeting his end for such a trivial reason.


    But I guess I can¡¯t really complain too much, because that was when my life really began.

 Chapter One: Character Creation

    <h1>Chapter One: Character Creation</h1>


    What happens when we die?


    Humans are afraid of the unknown, and yet irrevocably drawn towards it. When we don¡¯t know something, we hypothesize about it. We speculate, we guess. Some people believe there is an afterlife, where the good are sent to Heaven to live their afterlives in bliss, and the bad are eternally punished in the depths of Hell. Some believe that when we die, our essence is retained and we are reborn in some form or another. Some believe that after death, there is simply nothing - that everything ends when you die.


    Well, if I were to pick one of the three, I would say that it¡¯s closest to the third. I was drifting in a void of infinite darkness, unable to see, hear or feel anything. It was around then that I realized I was, in fact, actually dead, and not just unconscious. I just knew it. There was no secret to it, no trick. Just like I knew the sky was blue and grass was green, I knew I was dead.


    What came next was the real surprise.


    A thought appeared in my mind, projected by some otherworldly source. Puzzled, I attempted to scratch my head - but of course, I didn¡¯t have a body, let alone the hands to do so.


    A panel of images appeared inside my mind. I saw a reflection of myself, completely naked, staring off into the distance. I was of average build, average looks, with short black hair and brown eyes. It was definitely a model of me before my parents had left, back when I¡¯d been forced to go outside and exercise for ten minutes a day. Back when I¡¯d been healthy.


    I looked to the next image, and the panel moved automatically. There was another humanoid figure, skin as pale as snow, with a longer and more slender figure. If it weren¡¯t for that monstrosity hanging between its legs, it could have been a woman.


    Hang on a second. Was that an elf?


    I focused on the image, and suddenly I realized I was no longer a floating consciousness. I was inside a body, the very body that was displayed before me upon the panel. I brought a hand to my face and touched it. It felt warm, like real flesh. I touched my ears, and felt the small tips they ended in.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    It was real. That elf standing before me was a reflection of my current self.


    I moved on to the next image. I must have spent several thousand years going through all the races, but in this dimension, time had no meaning. I saw all manner of strange and quirky races, from the typical fantasy MMO ones to strange, eldritch abominations beyond human comprehension. At one point I didn¡¯t even know what I was looking at anymore, and I realized that if I selected one of these bodies, I would inevitably have to learn its functions.


    It was because of this that I found myself frantically scrolling back, to settle on the familiar <human> race. Unfortunately there were no customization options - apparently I hadn¡¯t grinded enough in real life and I was stuck with measly benchmark stats, with slightly higher scores in <Wisdom> and <Intelligence>.


    Now let¡¯s be honest here. I¡¯m a (reasonably) healthy adolescent boy. I think most boys would at least take the opportunity to experiment a little, right?


    Needless to say, I thoroughly explored my female self and masturbated countless times before selecting the male option. Being a girl was fun, but in my mind I was still a guy.


    At this, I frowned. Ordinarily, I¡¯d enter <Inferno>, my go-to online persona for any game. If I played it and there was multiplayer, the number one ranking on the leaderboard would be <Inferno>. It was my modus operandi, the name that sparked fear in the hearts of my opponents when they were matched up against it. The name of the devil incarnate, the pits of despair from which no player could escape.


    But this wasn¡¯t a game. I had really died.


    And so, I typed in the characters for my real name.


    <Dante.>


    There was only one option left now, and it was to choose which world I wanted to be reborn in. I probably spent another few millennia deciding on this. A vast majority of the worlds were impossible for humans to survive in, lacking the fundamentals like water and a proper atmosphere, or fraught with strange and exotic dangers. The world which I¡¯d come from was greyed out. It hadn¡¯t been the best life, but I couldn¡¯t help but feel a little sad that I¡¯d never be going home again.


    It was here, in the last stage of character creation, where I made my biggest mistake. Instead of choosing the ¡®Super-happy Erotic Fun-time Cat-girl Harem¡¯ world, my hand slipped and I accidentally selected the ¡®Typical Fantasy¡¯ world.


    I blacked out in that instant, and was reborn.

 Chapter Two: Starting from the Bottom

    <h1>Chapter Two: Starting from the Bottom</h1>


    Noise.


    That was the first thing my mind registered. The creaking of cartwheels, the pattering of footsteps, the rustling of clothes, and above that¡­


    Voices.


    Soft whispering, snippets of conversation, sounds of peddlers selling their goods.


    Peddlars?


    I looked around, and realized that I wasn¡¯t dreaming. It was real, all of it.


    I was in a large city of some sort, the typical starting area you might arrive at in the beginning of an MMORPG. Brick and stone buildings rose high into the sky, casting dark shadows upon dank alleyways. I was in a marketplace, filled with small stalls held together by cloth tarp and wooden frames. The ground was made of a paved stone, worn smooth by countless footsteps trampling across it. Above me, the midday sun beat down relentlessly upon my head.


    I couldn¡¯t remember the last time I¡¯d been to a city of this size. The vibrant colours, the brightness of the sun, the chaotic voices¡­ they dug at the edge of my mind like piercing needles.


    This wasn¡¯t a game. This was real life. I wasn¡¯t experiencing this through a computer screen, with headphones over my ears. It was real.


    It didn¡¯t feel like my body had been reborn with the stats of an average person. I felt weak. I felt dizzy, as if my <Constitution> were half of what it was supposed to be.


    I covered my ears, trying to drown out the sound of the merchant who was auctioning off his over-ripened fruit. I squinted, trying to avoid the glare of the sun against the ground. I could smell stone, dirt, fruits and vegetables, and all manner of strange and exotic perfumes in the air. There were too many sensations at once, a battering ram assaulting the walls of my mind.


    ¡°Shit¡­!¡±


    I hadn¡¯t expected this. I fled, feet blindly pounding across the pavement, ducking into a small alleyway. My pulse slowed down as the shadows engulfed me, my ragged breathing fading away. I took a deep breath and forced myself to calm down.


    It was all in my head. I was no longer the nerdy shut-in from my past life. I¡¯d started afresh, as the hero that this world needed.


    I could keep telling myself that, but the sad truth was that simply being outside was enough to make me feel sick.This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    I looked down at my body. I was dressed in a patched up tunic of some sort, a white garment from the middle ages with billowing sleeves and a thin cord below the v-necked collar. My trousers were roughed up, riddled with discoloured patches, and I was wearing thin calfskin boots. Typical starting equipment for a commoner.


    I needed to get a grasp on the game system first. There were no experience bars or stat tables, or menu buttons around my vision. In fact, nothing save character creation suggested this was even a game.


    I ground my teeth. The way things were, this was no different to playing the game called ¡®real life¡¯. Granted, it was a lot harder.


    ¡°Hey, you.¡±


    A low, venomous voice seeped into my ears, startling me. I jerked my head towards its source and found myself face to face with a man, standing just far enough to be out of reach but close enough to feel menacing. A chunk of his nose was missing, presumably lost in a knife fight of some sort.


    ¡°You¡¯re not from around here, are you?¡±


    Two more men emerged from behind him. They were dressed in similar tatters, with all manner of bruises and scars upon their bodies. They towered above me, the smell of the slums rising from their bodies. One of them had lost half his teeth and his mouth was stuck in a permanent grimace. Another had a scar along his left eye, rendering it useless.


    I tried to stammer a response, but nothing came out. I cursed myself silently for not interacting with people more.


    ¡°This is our turf,¡± the noseless man continued. ¡°If you wanna pass, you gotta pay the toll.¡±


    ¡°S-sorry,¡± I finally managed. ¡°I¡¯ll get out of here-¡±


    ¡°Too late for that.¡±


    He moved his hand, and I saw a glint of rusty steel. They were armed.


    ¡°H-how much?¡± I asked, feeling around my pockets.


    ¡°Everything you¡¯ve got.¡±


    My face fell.


    I was being mugged.


    My hand closed around a hilt around my waist. The three thugs in front of me stiffened.


    ¡°I hope you¡¯re not thinking of fighting us, boy,¡± the toothless man growled.


    No. That was out of the question.


    I might consider it in a real game. I was only level one, and if I died I could just start over.


    But this wasn¡¯t a real game. I had no idea if I would respawn or not, or even reincarnate. There was no way I could take them on with a rusty iron dagger at my level.


    I fumbled around, and found a pouch at my waist.


    ¡°H-here,¡± I said. ¡°That¡¯s all I have.¡±


    The lead thug snatched it from my hand and emptied the contents into his other palm. He counted ten gold coins, biting one with the few teeth he had. Then, he smirked.


    ¡°Get outta here, kid. And don¡¯t come back.¡±


    I stumbled backwards, almost tripping over myself, and ran. I ran back the way I came until I was on the main road, panting on all fours.


    I¡¯d screwed it up.


    I¡¯d lost my starting gold, and now I was just a homeless peasant with a single knife. I had no food, no water, no means of obtaining shelter. I had no skills, no strengths which could help me land a job.


    I was no amateur to games. I knew I was at a severe disadvantage.


    How exactly was I supposed to come back from this?

 Chapter Three: My First Quest

    <h1>Chapter Three: My First Quest</h1>


    After wallowing in misery by the side of a road for a good hour or so, I calmed down enough to come up with a plan.


    I had three options. I could beg people for money, and try to take things from there. I could ask for work. There were usually noticeboards of some sort in fantasy games, with quests for adventurers to undertake. I didn¡¯t fancy my chances fighting monsters with a rusty knife, but it was my best bet.


    And my last option¡­ was to steal.


    If this were a videogame, the chances of stealing would depend on my <Dexterity>. I didn¡¯t fancy my chances making a living as a thief.


    This wasn¡¯t just any video game. This was practically a real-life simulation. I had a feeling the monsters weren¡¯t going to drop gold, and I wasn¡¯t going to be able to just walk into any old house and take things. The NPCs were living people, not character sprites who would repeat the same line over and over again.


    Job boards. That was my best bet. I needed to find out if they existed, and where they were located.


    To do that, I had to talk to someone.


    I waited by the side of the road for a long time, trying to gather the courage to ask. The sun was sinking by the second. I¡¯d watched countless people pass by, from nobles and their guards to commoners and even children. Most of them were humans and elves, though I did see one dwarf.


    Damnit. Just go! What¡¯s the worst that could happen?


    My legs wouldn¡¯t obey me. I may as well have been a stone statue. I wasn¡¯t a public speaker. Even talking to the store clerk made me anxious.


    I¡¯m pathetic.


    ¡°Tch¡­¡±


    My fists were clenched so hard that my bones hurt. This was what I¡¯d gained from playing games in my previous life and not becoming an upstanding citizen. I was stuck at level one, unable to even get my first quest.


    ¡°Ex¡­ Excuse me!¡±


    My voice came out strangled, like the squeak of a small mouse. People continued to walk past, not even sparing a glance in my direction.


    I took a few steps forward and gently nudged someone on the shoulder. As soon as they turned around, I practically shrunk into my shell.


    Even though he was the shorter one, I felt intimidated. The man was cloaked from head to toe, with a hood pulled over his face to conceal his features. I stared blankly for a moment, fumbling for the right words before finally speaking.


    ¡°U-Um¡­ Is there a noticeboard around here? For¡­ uh¡­ odd jobs that need taking care of?¡±


    The moment those words left my mouth, I felt as if a great weight had been lifted from my chest. It disappeared just as quickly as it had arrived once I realized I needed to now wait for a reply.


    The man didn¡¯t respond for a while. He couldn¡¯t have been staring at me, otherwise I would have caught a glimpse of his face. I waited nervously in the middle of the street. Citizens of the city passed us by without a second glance.


    After a long moment, he moved his arm with a rustle of his cloak and pointed down one end of the street. I followed the finger and tried to catch a glimpse of what he¡¯d been pointing at, but to no avail. The crowd was simply too dense.


    ¡°Ah! W-wait¡­¡±


    I turned back, only to find that he was gone. I felt the tension drain from my limbs. My heart was still beating rapidly like a jackhammer inside my chest.


    I¡¯d finally plucked up the courage to talk to someone, and this was the result. The mere thought of asking another person sent shivers up my spine.


    Sighing, I made for the general direction which I¡¯d been pointed.


    ***


    To my fortune, the shrouded man¡¯s instruction had been enough. It took but a few minutes of walking before I found myself in front of a large noticeboard, sheltered from the elements by a weathered tarp. Scraps of paper were pinned on it, some written in patchy handwriting, others neatly signed with a professional seal. There was one other man standing before it, skimming through the notices. I watched from the side, hidden by the bustling of the crowd as he finally made up his mind and ripped off one of the scraps of paper, tucking it into his pocket.


    Loitering commoners were probably no rare occurrence; not once was I questioned by any authoritative figures. After a while, I saw an elderly couple stop before the board, pinning another scrap of paper onto it.


    Once they¡¯d left, I made up my mind and approached the board. The sun was already low in the sky, a blazing beacon of red atop a backdrop of fiery orange. I hadn¡¯t eaten at all in this world, and my stomach was feeling painfully empty. I needed to find something, anything which would give me a source of income. Trying not to get my hopes up, I took a brief glance at the board.


    <Wanted: Bodyguard to escort merchant through the Lonely Woods>


    <Bounty: Slay the bandit camp at the base of Jagged-rock Mountain>


    <Wanted: Babysitter for five year old infant. Must have prior experience!>


    <Wanted: Swordmaster to train young boy>


    As my eyes wandered along the notices, my spirits began to plummet. Most of them either required experience or were way out of my league. It seemed like all the easy, low difficulty ones were among the first to be picked up.


    I cursed once again for not making more of my previous life. If only I were stronger or tougher, I might be able to take on some of these requests.


    <Wanted: Rat infestation in basement. Desperate, will hire anyone!>


    I immediately snatched the slip of paper from the board and read it.


    <Help! My basement has been invaded by a pack of giant sewer rats! They¡¯re immune to poison and it¡¯s only a matter of time before they sneak into the kitchen!>Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


    There was an address and a hand-drawn map below the request. I skimmed past it to the very bottom.


    <Reward: 10 G>


    I clenched the slip of parchment tightly in my hand. If I hurried, I might just make it before sundown. Surely I would be able to take on a pack of rats. This was a quest aimed at level ones like myself, the lowest of the low. It¡¯d probably been ignored because of how small the reward was, but in my current condition I needed everything I could get.


    Stuffing the piece of paper in my pocket, I began to follow the directions on the map. I didn¡¯t have money, food or water. I had literally no possessions, except for the clothes on my back and the knife by my waist.


    Hopefully, that would be enough.


    ***


    It was dusk by the time I reached the address on the classified. It was a small two-storey house on a quiet street, surrounded by identical houses that stretched all the way down to the inner gates. Ivy crept up to the rooftops, seeping in between the rotting planks that made up the walls. In the distance were the sounds of small children running about, making use of their imaginations to bypass the restrictions of their socioeconomic status.


    The whole place smelled of sweat, dirt and decay, clearly worlds away from the higher-class marketplace and the heart of the city. The ground wasn¡¯t paved, the windows were stained and shattered, and muddy water filled the gutters, riddled with flies and their larvae.


    This was probably what they called a slum.


    I raised a hand to the door, and before any doubts could enter my mind, knocked. A sense of anxiety bubbled within me, but there was no longer anything I could do about it. If I¡¯d hesitated, I would have been there for another hour, feeding the mosquitoes as I contemplated what to say.


    The door opened with a soft creak and a weary, grey-haired woman opened the door.


    ¡°What can I do for you?¡± she scowled, eyeing me with disdain.


    ¡°I-I¡¯m here to help with the¡­ the rats,¡± I stammered, showing her the notice.


    She raised an eyebrow, clearly doubtful of my capabilities, before sighing.


    ¡°Alright, come in. We¡¯ve tried just about everything; can¡¯t go wrong giving you a shot.¡±


    The door opened wider, and I tentatively took a step in.


    The interior of the house was dark. Most of the light came from the candles on the dining table, which the woman quickly ushered me past.


    That was right. I wasn¡¯t a guest here, I was on a mission. I must have been hungrier than I¡¯d thought, because my stomach growled in protest at the sight of the few meagre scraps laid out on top, as unappealing as they were.


    We walked down the dark corridor and stopped in front of a battered old door. I heard the sound of scampering behind it, the pattering of feet on the floor.


    ¡°Take this,¡± she said, handing me a candlestick. The small flame burned pitifully. There was no way it would be enough to light up the room, but it was all I had.


    I nodded in thanks. The woman opened the door and shut it quickly behind me.


    ¡°Give me a shout when you¡¯re done,¡± she called. ¡°I¡¯ll be on the other side.¡±


    Her words fell upon deaf ears as I beheld what awaited me.


    The soft orange glow wasn¡¯t enough to light up the basement, but what little it illuminated shocked me.


    The walls were made of mossy stone, the entire cavity held up by wooden beams. Most of the contents had been removed, save the odd empty barrel or crate here and there. In other words, a typical dungeon-type basement in an RPG.


    It wasn¡¯t this that shocked me. Rather, it was the floor.


    It was supposed to be made of stone. The only thing I could see however, was a wriggling carpet of grey. It took me a few moments to realize that it wasn¡¯t a carpet, but rather a group of rats. Lots and lots of rats, their thick, furry bodies rustling along the ground in search of food, their dirty teeth gnawing at any stray scraps on the ground, their ropey tails sliding across the ground. At the sight of the candlelight in my hand, there was a chorus of pained squeals.


    I brandished my rusty knife in my right hand and swallowed. No wonder no one had taken the job. I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if people had tried, and given up after seeing what awaited them.


    My stomach growled again. If I couldn¡¯t do this, my fate was pretty much sealed. I didn¡¯t know how long I could last without food.


    The scampering diminished as the rats stilled, regaining their senses. As one, they turned towards me. I felt panic rise within my chest.


    Then, they attacked.


    I¡¯d never been attacked by rats before. They were far smaller in size, but there was a whole army of them, and only one of me. They swarmed over me, knocking me off the steps, sending me tumbling down onto the floor. I felt thousands of sharp, prickly teeth tear through my clothes and nip my flesh. I frantically struggled to my feet, flailing my limbs wildly, struggling to throw them off. My knife cut through something and I heard a squeal. The candlestick had fallen onto the floor and extinguished, leaving me in complete darkness.


    I was drowning in a sea of pain, and furry grey bodies. I¡¯d dropped my knife somewhere. All thoughts of exterminating the nest had left my mind. I simply wanted to live.


    ¡°Help!¡±


    I screamed out at the top of my lungs, scrambling up the stairs, the dirty grey bodies still clinging to me. I tried to sweep as many of them off my body as possible, but every time one was thrown off, two more took its place.


    There was a shout as the door above me opened, and candlelight flooded the basement. Several rats fell off in surprise, squealing at the light. I stumbled out of the basement and landed on the floor, still writhing, trying to throw off the small bodies that persistently clung onto my garments with their dirty paws.


    ¡°Eeek!¡±


    There was a scream, and then something long and hard began smacking into me. I curled up into a ball, trying to withstand the pain.


    ¡°Get out of here, you worthless filth!¡± The woman assaulted me both physically and verbally. ¡°I asked you to exterminate them, not bring them up!¡±


    More pain racked my body as the rats were beaten off, scampering away to the corners of the room. When I no longer felt the sting of rats digging into my flesh, I was picked up by the collar and dragged to the front door.


    ¡°Don¡¯t come here again,¡± the woman cried, brandishing the broom in one hand. ¡°I should have known you¡¯d only make things worse.¡±


    She waved it around at a few stray rats that were scampering around her floor and booted me through the front door. It slammed shut with a bang behind me.


    Clutching at my bleeding body, all I could do was lie there in despair.


    I was pathetic.


    Of course I couldn¡¯t take on a rat nest. There was a reason people used traps and poison to deal with them. They were simply far too fast, too small and too numerous to take on with a weapon.


    I was an idiot. I should have just resorted to begging. Pride wasn¡¯t worth keeping over something like this.


    I was lying somewhere in the middle of the road, my clothes shredded, blood trickling from small wounds all over my body. I would be lucky if they didn¡¯t become infected.


    I was hungry, thirsty, and tired. I¡¯d lost everything except for the clothes on my back. I didn¡¯t even have the <dexterity> to be able to kill a rat.


    This wasn¡¯t a game. It was real life.


    That was exactly why I was in such a predicament. All I knew were games.


    I heard the drone of mosquitoes in my ears. Parts of my body were beginning to itch. I scratched at them, my fingers coming away with blood. They continued to itch, irritating my skin, setting it on fire. I waved at the air, trying to drive them off, but they kept coming. Of course they¡¯d keep coming, I was their prey. I was defenseless, a free meal lying in the middle of the street.


    I felt miserable. I was going to die to a pack of rats and mosquito bites.


    Being at the top of a virtual leaderboard meant nothing. I¡¯d lived for seventeen years in another life, and had taken away nothing from it.


    It was then, as I lay dying on the dirt-covered path, that I was saved.


    I felt a strong arm grab onto me. I was lifted up off the ground and hauled over a shoulder. My body screamed in protest as blood and pus leaked from hundreds of bite wounds. I caught a glimpse of my savior, through the fog of pain that had clouded over my mind.


    He was shorter than I was, wrapped up in a cloak with a hood pulled over his face. I realized this when my feet began to drag across the ground.


    I¡¯d seen him somewhere before.


    Pain racked my body as I tried to remember where. The air felt like sandpaper as it rubbed against my open wounds.


    He carried me forward, one step at a time, out of the slums and into the marketplace. As we passed through the gates, my mind finally shut down. It was then that I realized he was the exact same man who¡¯d directed me to the job board.

 Chapter Four: Reboot

    <h1>Chapter Four: Reboot</h1>


    As my body lay on the brink of death, I dreamed.


    Were they dreams? Or were they memories? I couldn¡¯t quite tell.


    I saw myself taking my first steps, wobbling unsteadily before falling and scraping my knee. My mother rushed to catch me, burying me within her warm embrace. The smell of her shampoo comforted me. She carefully knelt down and stuck a bandaid neatly across my knee-cap, patting me on the head.


    ¡°Don¡¯t cry, Dante. Men are supposed to be strong.¡±


    I saw myself playing around in the sandpit at the park, immersing myself in the mountain I was building. I remember a friend I made that day, who¡¯d helped me dig the tunnel beneath it. When my father finally came to pick me up, I didn¡¯t want to leave.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± he said. ¡°You can always come back here tomorrow.¡±


    He lifted me and me deposited me atop his head. I waved goodbye from my new vantage point.


    ¡°See you tomorrow!¡±


    ¡°Bye-bye!¡±


    I remember how tall I¡¯d felt back then, like a small soldier riding a giant into battle.


    I saw myself getting into a fight with a bully at school. We were both kept in for detention, but my father secretly congratulated me when he¡¯d come to pick me up. It felt good, knowing that I was doing something useful for someone else.


    I saw many things. I remembered things about my early childhood that I¡¯d forgotten even existed.


    Birthday and Christmas presents. My first crush, an actress on TV. The time we¡¯d gone on a road trip to the country. Playing make-believe with other children at the park.


    The flood of memories began to slow down as I grew. Then, at a certain point, they stopped entirely.


    The last thing I saw was my father surprising me with a new computer. After that, I was sucked into an endless void.


    ***


    When I woke up, I was crying.


    Wet tears trickled down my face, warm and salty. The dream was already fading away from my memories, but the emotions whirling within me remained.


    I wanted to go home.


    The last few years of my life were practically non-existent. I¡¯d done nothing in that time except play games. I didn¡¯t want things to end this way. There was still so much I wanted to see, so much to do.


    But there was no going back.


    I was dead, and this was my new life.This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    ¡°You¡¯re up.¡±


    I heard the gentle voice of an old man, and turned my head. My body ached, but there was surprisingly no pain.


    I was in a chapel of some sort, lying on a rough fur mattress. There were three rows of seats on either side of the aisle and a small shrine at the very end. Off to the side, within arm¡¯s reach of me were two other men, sleeping peacefully on fur mattresses. Injured, no doubt.


    ¡°Take it easy. Your body is still recovering.¡±


    The man was a priest, dressed in loose white robes. There wasn¡¯t a speck of hair on his head and his beard grew long and wispy like a portion of the clouds. He placed a weathered hand on my forehead. It felt cool and soothing.


    ¡°What... happened?¡± I asked.


    Across from me, one of the men coughed in his sleep. The stained glass windows on the walls depicted a goddess of some sort, with flowing long hair and a simple white garb. The light filtering through tossed an almost ethereal glow across the chapel. The sounds of the city drifted past the stone walls, telling me that it was sometime early in the morning.


    ¡°You were found passed out in the middle of the slums, covered in wounds,¡± he said. ¡°A kind traveller guided you here to be restored. It took me all night to purge the infection from your body, but Healara must have been on your side because you¡¯re on the road to recovery now.¡±


    ¡°Healara?¡± I gingerly sat up, feeling my strain beneath my skin. My bloodstained, shredded garb had been disposed of and replaced with a simple cloth shirt. I moved a hand to my torso and found only smooth, unopened skin. It was as if last night had never happened.


    ¡°You are in her temple,¡± he said. ¡°The traveller was kind enough to donate coin for our services.¡±


    That was right. I¡¯d been saved, by that cloaked stranger.


    ¡°Where is he?¡±


    ¡°He left without a word at the break of dawn.¡±


    That person had helped me twice. I owed my life to them. I wished I could have at least thanked them, seen their face.


    I slowly crawled to my feet and stood up. The chapel was completely empty, save the venerable old man and the other two injured. My stomach groaned, and a wave of dizziness hit me.


    ¡°Do you have food?¡± I asked.


    The priest nodded. ¡°We do. But it may not be to your standards.¡±


    ¡°Anything is fine.¡±


    At this rate, I was so hungry that food was all I could think about. I would worry about what to do later.


    ***


    It was little more than a few scraps of bread, cheese and water, but to me it was a feast for the gods. I walked out from under the tall archway of the chapel, my stomach slightly less empty than before. The bright sunlight flooded my eyes, but my eyes adjusted to it in a matter of seconds.


    The Temple of Healara wasn¡¯t far from where¡¯d I¡¯d ¡®spawned¡¯ in this world. I recognized a few landmarks here and there, and was able to make my way back to the job noticeboard without too much trouble.


    I¡¯d been given a second chance. Even though it had only been a day since I last checked it, there could already be new requests. If I didn¡¯t act fast, they would be gone. That was what the priest had told me.


    That was how jobs worked, both in this world and the previous. They could come completely out of the blue, with no warning whatsoever, and disappear just as fast. You couldn¡¯t blink, or you¡¯d potentially miss an opportunity.


    As I stood under the tarp, looking through the pinned pieces of paper on the board, I noticed something that had not been there before.


    <Wanted: Recruits for a new Guild. Training will be provided.>


    I plucked it from the board and skimmed through it. The words ¡®no experience required¡¯ jumped out at me.


    <Reward: Unfortunately, we are a newly formed Guild and cannot offer monetary rewards up front. What we can offer is a place to stay at a Guild House as well as free meals, provided you earn your keep.>


    I couldn¡¯t believe my eyes. Lady Luck must have been smiling upon me.


    I turned over the piece of paper and set off towards the address provided, a newly formed resolve in my heart. I might have been in the pits of despair just a few hours ago, but now I was well-rested enough to think clearly. Just because I¡¯d failed a beginner quest didn¡¯t mean it was over. It just I had to dig deeper, start from below beginner level.


    Life was just a game. A very, very hard game, but a game nevertheless. If I just kept thinking of it that way, I was sure I could make it.