《VIRGIN DESTROYER: An Isekai LitRPG》 Chapter 1 Let¡¯s get one thing straight: being 30, single, and working in a warehouse isn¡¯t exactly the dream. Add in the fact that my diet consists of frozen pizza and Mountain Dew, and you¡¯ve got what I like to call the Lucas Special. You know, that elite combo of mediocrity and missed opportunities. Don¡¯t get me wrong, I¡¯m not stupid. Actually, I¡¯m pretty damn smart. Top of my class in math, killed it in physics, and even had an English teacher tell me I could write for a living. The problem? None of that helps when the girl you¡¯ve been crushing on for months hits you with: ¡°You¡¯re so sweet, Lucas¡­ like a brother!¡± Yeah. A brother. If I had a dollar for every time I heard that one, I wouldn¡¯t be slinging boxes for a living. And honestly? That¡¯s my fault. See, my dad died when I was a kid, so my mom raised me on her own. Great woman¡ªdon¡¯t get me wrong¡ªbut she was one of those moms who wanted me to be the perfect gentleman. The kind of guy who says ¡°please¡± and ¡°thank you,¡± holds doors open, and listens to a girl¡¯s problems like some sort of emotional sponge. ¡°Lucas, women love men who respect them,¡± she¡¯d say when I was 15 and shoveling pizza into my face during a Star Wars marathon. ¡°Lucas, be the nice guy. Girls want someone who treats them right.¡± Spoiler alert: girls like nice guys, but they don¡¯t wanna sleep with them. They¡¯re not staying up at night fantasizing about the guy who helped them move furniture or remembered their Starbucks order. Nope. Guys like me? We¡¯re the emotional support animals of dating. And that¡¯s how I got here: Lucas, the ¡°nice guy.¡± Thirty years old, zero romantic prospects, and a Steam library so big it could probably crush me in real life if it ever fell over. That Friday night started like any other. I got home from the warehouse, kicked off my steel-toed boots, and collapsed on my couch. Dinner? A large pepperoni pizza. Entertainment? Booting up League of Legends to play with my buddy Eric while I let the existential dread of my life quietly marinate in the background. Eric¡¯s one of those guys who always has something new going on. Like, his brain¡¯s constantly buzzing with ideas, most of which are either half-baked or borderline insane. But every now and then, he stumbles onto something that actually makes sense. ¡°Yo, Lucas,¡± Eric said, his voice crackling through my headset. ¡°You hear about this new MMO?¡± ¡°Eric, I don¡¯t even have time to finish my backlog of single-player games, and you want me to commit to an MMO? What¡¯s so special about it?¡± ¡°It assigns your class based on your personality.¡± I groaned, pressing my forehead into my palm as my top-lane player pinged for the hundredth time. ¡°Cool, sounds fun, but push the wave, Eric! Push the goddamn wave! Why do junglers never shove the minion wave to the tower when I recall? Are you allergic to common sense or what?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not here to do your dirty work, man. That¡¯s your lane. I gank, I dip.¡± His tone was so casual it made my blood boil. ¡°That¡¯s not how it works! You¡¯re leaving me with a freeze under my turret and their mid just went back with 500 gold up on me because you didn¡¯t touch the wave!¡± Eric cackled, the kind of obnoxious laugh that made you want to break your own keyboard. ¡°Relax, dude. You¡¯ll outplay them. You¡¯re good enough.¡± ¡°Yeah, I would be good enough if my jungler wasn¡¯t sabotaging me every goddamn game,¡± I muttered, clicking frantically to try and unfuck the mess he left. ¡°Seriously, Eric, this is why junglers are universally hated. It¡¯s science. Someone¡¯s probably published a paper on it by now.¡± ¡°Speaking of science,¡± he said, completely ignoring me, ¡°this MMO is supposed to have next-level AI. Like, the NPCs adapt to your playstyle. You have to check it out.¡± I groaned and leaned back in my chair, dragging my mid-lane ass back to tower. ¡°Class based on personality? Awesome. Can¡¯t wait to get ¡®Overthinking Nerdlord.¡¯ My starter weapon¡¯s probably a calculator, and my special ability is debating meaningless stats.¡± Eric snorted. ¡°Right, and my class is definitely ¡®AFK Jungler.¡¯ Passive skill: Leaving Baron at 1 HP.¡± ¡°Oh, that¡¯s generous,¡± I shot back. ¡°Yours would be ¡®Ping Ignorer.¡¯ Starter weapon: a disconnected leash. Ultimate: Vanishing the second you¡¯re needed.¡± ¡°Okay, fine,¡± Eric said, wheezing into his mic. ¡°But let¡¯s be real. They¡¯re gonna scan you, see all the sarcasm and pizza grease, and slap you with ¡®Couch Paladin.¡¯ Passive buff: Extra comfort. Zero mobility.¡±A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. I snorted. ¡°At least I wouldn¡¯t get ¡®Jungle Janitor.¡¯ Passive buff: you smell loot but never touch it.¡± We both laughed, and I clicked to dodge a skill shot, zoning the enemy mid under turret. ¡°Alright, enough of your tragic jungle energy,¡± I said. ¡°How much is this game, anyway?¡± ¡°One hundred bucks. Beta access. ¡± Eric said, smug as hell. ¡°A hundred? Damn. They better throw in a DLC girlfriend for that price.¡± ¡°Maybe this¡¯ll be the game where you finally lose your XP penalty.¡± ¡°Ha-ha. Very funny,¡± I deadpanned. ¡°You done? Or are you gonna keep spamming cringe while I carry this game again?¡± After logging off for the night (and reminding Eric for the hundredth time that junglers need to push the damn wave), I found myself still thinking about the game. Dungeon Realms Online. Or DRO, as it was apparently going to get called by the cool kids who made it past the paywall. I pulled up the link Eric sent me and stared at the glowing homepage. The tagline was front and center: ¡°The game where your personality becomes your power.¡± Right underneath it, there was a cinematic trailer on autoplay. It was flashy as hell¡ªglowing swords, spellcasters summoning lightning, and some guy dual-wielding axes while jumping off a dragon¡¯s head. The kind of over-the-top action that screams, Buy me, you nerd. I scrolled down, half out of boredom, half out of curiosity. The features were listed like bullet points on a fancy r¨¦sum¨¦: I leaned back in my chair, arms crossed. ¡°Personality-based classes, huh? Knowing my luck, the AI would scan me and go, ¡®Congratulations, your class is Spreadsheet Cleric.¡¯¡± The more I read, though, the more intrigued I got. Apparently, the NPCs weren¡¯t just background noise¡ªthey had their own goals, personalities, and even emotions. The game world adapted to the players, meaning that how you played could literally change the course of events. It all sounded amazing. Almost too amazing. ¡°Alright,¡± I said to no one in particular, ¡°what¡¯s the catch?¡± And then I saw it: the BUY NOW button at the bottom of the page, glowing like it was daring me to click it. ¡°Beta access,¡± I muttered, reading the fine print. ¡°Limited slots. A hundred bucks.¡± I already knew the price thanks to Eric, but seeing it written out in bold made my wallet wince. I tapped my fingers on the desk, staring at the button like it was the entrance to some epic dungeon. ¡°Okay, let¡¯s break it down,¡± I said, half-talking to myself, half-trying to justify it. ¡°Pros: insane VR immersion, personality-based classes, dragons.¡± I held up three fingers as if I was keeping score. ¡°Cons: It¡¯s a hundred bucks, and I¡¯m probably going to end up with a class like ¡®Emotional Support Swordsman.¡¯¡± My mouse hovered over the button as I kept trying to talk myself out of it. ¡°What if it sucks? Or what if it¡¯s one of those games where you have to grind for three days straight just to unlock basic armor?¡± The trailer in the corner of the screen caught my eye again. This time, it zoomed in on a rogue character flipping through the air to dodge a fireball before stabbing a boss in the back. The boss exploded in a burst of loot. My inner gamer twitched. ¡°Damn it,¡± I muttered, scratching the back of my neck. ¡°Alright, fine. Worst case scenario, I¡¯m out a hundred bucks, and Eric gets to roast me for the next six months. Best case?¡± I smirked. ¡°I get to one-shot dragons and laugh about it.¡± With a deep breath, I clicked BUY NOW. The screen shifted to a payment page. I typed in my card details, trying not to think too hard about the hit my bank account was taking. After a few tense seconds, the page reloaded, and big golden letters lit up the screen: ¡°Welcome to Dungeon Realms Online!¡± The client downloaded faster than I expected, considering my Wi-Fi sometimes decides to cosplay as a potato. As soon as it finished, the DRO icon popped up on my desktop¡ªa sleek little logo of a glowing dungeon door with wisps of magical energy swirling around it. I clicked it, and my screen went black for a second before the game¡¯s startup sequence kicked in. Dramatic orchestral music blasted through my headset as the title Dungeon Realms Online appeared, glowing and pulsing like it was alive. Below it was a single option: ¡°Begin Setup.¡± I grabbed my VR headset, a slightly battered but still functional rig I¡¯d been using for years, and strapped it on. The screen inside lit up with that same glowing logo, and the music grew louder, almost like it was pulling me in. ¡°Alright, DRO,¡± I muttered, gripping my controller. ¡°Let¡¯s see what you¡¯ve got.¡± As soon as I selected ¡°Begin Setup,¡± the screen faded to black, and a deep, booming voice filled my ears: ¡°Welcome, Player. Initializing personality assessment.¡± A faint hum surrounded me, and I swear I could feel vibrations through the headset. Suddenly, I was standing in a vast, empty void¡ªjust me, floating in nothingness, with little motes of light dancing in the air around me. ¡°Please remain still,¡± the voice said. ¡°Scanning core personality traits.¡± The lights swirling around me grew brighter, twisting into intricate shapes¡ªsymbols, spirals, and flashes of color that felt like they were peeling me apart layer by layer. I stayed perfectly still, just as the voice had instructed, even as the glowing motes circled closer. A low hum vibrated through the void, building in intensity. The lights converged, forming a massive sphere in front of me, shifting and pulsing like it was alive. Colors flickered through it¡ªgold, crimson, deep blue¡ªeach one radiating a different kind of energy. The sphere spun faster, shards of light breaking off and reforming in an endless dance. It was beautiful in a way that felt¡­ personal. Like the game was peeling back the layers of who I was and distilling me down to my very core. ¡°Analysis complete,¡± the voice boomed. The sphere shattered, sending fragments flying in every direction. I didn¡¯t flinch, even as the glowing shards dissolved into nothingness around me. A single word formed in the empty air before me, glowing brighter than the rest: ¡°Assigning class¡­¡± The hum stopped, replaced by a heavy silence. The motes of light began to rearrange themselves, coming together one last time. Then the words appeared, floating in front of me in bold, glowing letters. ¡°Congratulations, your class is Virgin Destroyer.¡± Chapter 2 ¡°Congratulations, your class is Virgin Destroyer.¡± I froze. My brain tried to process the words in front of me, but all I could manage was a single, horrified thought: No. And then it hit me all at once. ¡°WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT?!¡± I stared at the glowing words like a complete idiot, my mouth slightly open, my brain short-circuiting. Eric. Eric, I swear to God, I¡¯m going to murder you. Okay, yeah. Sure. I¡¯m 30. I¡¯m a virgin. But what does that have to do with anything?! How is that relevant to the game? Do they have a background check for this kind of thing? Some kind of ¡°are you lame enough for this class¡± questionnaire I missed? And then it clicked. ¡°Oh no,¡± I muttered, my eyes widening. ¡°It¡¯s the meme, isn¡¯t it? The stupid internet meme! ¡®If you¡¯re 30 and still a virgin, you unlock turbo wizard powers.¡¯ This is it! I¡¯m gonna be a god-tier fireball slinger! Raining destruction from my hands! Giga Chad Lucas, the Flame Emperor!¡± I waited. Nothing happened. The words Virgin Destroyer still hung in front of me, glowing smugly. ¡°¡­Or,¡± I said slowly, ¡°this is the most humiliating thing that¡¯s ever happened to me.¡± The world around me suddenly shifted. The void dissolved into light, and before I could even yell another obscenity, I landed on solid ground with a jarring thud. I blinked a few times, taking in my surroundings. It looked like your standard training zone: open fields with rows of wooden dummies, scattered weapons, and a few generic tents set up in the background. There wasn¡¯t a single other player in sight. ¡°Welcome, Player!¡± I spun around as a tall man appeared out of nowhere. He was wearing a purple coat that screamed I¡¯m too fabulous for this game, a feathered hat, and a mustache so perfectly curled it could¡¯ve been its own quest reward. ¡°Ah, a fresh face!¡± he exclaimed, spreading his arms wide. ¡°It is I, Georgio, your most magnificent and extremely qualified guide to the wonders of Dungeon Realms Online!¡± I stared at him for a beat. ¡°Georgio.¡± ¡°Indeed!¡± he said, twirling a cane that I was 99% sure served no actual purpose. ¡°But you may call me¡­¡± He paused dramatically. ¡°¡­Georgio.¡± I squinted. ¡°Hang on. Why does that sound like something out of a Daft Punk song?¡± Georgio froze, his grin widening ever so slightly. ¡°Ah, a man of taste, I see! Yes, yes, some do say I have that energy. Everyone calls me Georgio.¡± I blinked. ¡°You¡¯re actually quoting Giorgio by Moroder, aren¡¯t you?¡± He tipped his hat, the feather swaying slightly. ¡°And you actually got it. Well done, Player! You¡¯ve passed your first test!¡± ¡°First test?¡± I asked, raising an eyebrow. ¡°Yes,¡± Georgio said, grinning. ¡°The test of recognizing greatness. But enough about me¡ªlet us talk about you!¡± I blinked at him, my brain kicking into overdrive. Was this the AI Eric wouldn¡¯t shut up about? The whole ¡°next-level NPCs who feel like real people¡± thing? Because if it was, they¡¯d nailed it. I mean, in all my years of gaming, I¡¯d never come across an NPC dropping a Daft Punk reference. Not once. Most of them barely managed to string together sentences without sounding like they¡¯d had a lobotomy. But this guy? Georgio was practically dripping with personality. ¡°If he¡¯s quoting Daft Punk,¡± I thought, narrowing my eyes at him, ¡°what else has he got in there? Are we talking full cultural awareness? Memes? Oh God, will there be League of Legends references?!¡± Before I could spiral any further into my overthinking, I felt a strange vibration ripple across my body. It wasn¡¯t unpleasant, just¡­ weird. Like a soft hum resonating through my chest. Georgio stopped twirling his cane and adopted a thoughtful pose, his finger resting dramatically on his chin as he studied me with a knowing smile. ¡°You,¡± he said, drawing out the word, ¡°are a very interesting person.¡± I squinted at him. ¡°Why do I feel like I¡¯m about to get roasted?¡±Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. Georgio¡¯s smile widened. ¡°A thirty-year-old virgin. Nothing wrong with that, of course, but it does explain the class. Virgin Destroyer. Ah, the gods of irony truly outdid themselves with this one.¡± I stared at him, deadpan. ¡°Wow. Thanks for that.¡± ¡°Oh, come now!¡± Georgio laughed, throwing his arms wide. ¡°Don¡¯t take it so personally! Your class is a rare gem, my friend. An Epic class, the rarest of them all!¡± That made me pause. ¡°Wait, Epic? Like¡­ top-tier rare?¡± ¡°Precisely!¡± Georgio said. ¡°On the entire server, I¡¯d say there are maybe ten people who¡¯ve unlocked Epic classes so far. And do you know where most of them are now?¡± ¡°Stuck in training grounds, wondering what life choices led them here?¡± Georgio smirked. ¡°At the top of the rankings.¡± That made me blink. ¡°Seriously?¡± ¡°Absolutely!¡± he said, leaning in slightly. ¡°The game launched two weeks ago, and every single Epic-class player has risen to the top of their respective leaderboards. They¡¯re all powerhouses, unstoppable forces of nature! And now, you, my dear Virgin Destroyer, have joined their ranks.¡± I crossed my arms, still skeptical. ¡°If they¡¯re all so overpowered, why is my class called Virgin Destroyer instead of something cool like Nightblade or Shadow Emperor?¡± Georgio chuckled, tapping the side of his nose. ¡°Ah, but names are merely titles. It is the potential of the class that matters. And trust me¡ªyour potential is extraordinary.¡± Georgio straightened his hat and gestured grandly toward the empty training field. ¡°Now, my dear Virgin Destroyer, it is time for your training. Here, you will learn the fundamentals of Dungeon Realms Online¡ªbecause we can¡¯t have you stepping into this world completely clueless.¡± I rolled my eyes. ¡°Oh no, heaven forbid I embarrass myself in front of all the other Virgin Destroyers.¡± ¡°Ah, sarcasm. A defense mechanism of the highly intelligent!¡± Georgio said with a wink. ¡°Now, let us begin. Open your interface by saying the word Menu.¡± I sighed. ¡°Menu.¡± The air shimmered, and a sleek holographic interface appeared in front of me. I tilted my head, mildly impressed. ¡°Alright, not bad. Looks better than most VR games.¡± Georgio nodded approvingly. ¡°It is indeed state-of-the-art! Now, let¡¯s walk through it, shall we? First, tap on Stats.¡± I reached out and poked the glowing Stats tab. A list of attributes appeared, along with a small character model that looked exactly like me. No buff fantasy avatar, no cool scars¡ªjust me in leather armor, looking painfully average. I stared at my stats, hoping for something cool¡ªlike maybe a hidden edge that screamed legendary hero material. Instead, this is what I got: Stats Overview: There was a weird satisfaction in how symmetrical it looked¡ªlike I was crafted by some cosmic force obsessed with balance. Georgio, of course, noticed. ¡°Ah, yes! All stats at 4. Perfection. Reminds me of the great Jhin from League of Legends! The number four is¡ª¡± ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± I interrupted, waving him off. ¡°Four shots, four beats, something about making art. I get it. Master gamer here, remember?¡± Georgio clapped his hands in mock applause. ¡°Excellent! Then let us move on without delay. You must now choose your Gracename¡ªyour title for all the realm to see!¡± I stared at the input field. ¡°Oh, no pressure or anything¡­¡± After a moment¡¯s thought, I typed something stupid, chuckling to myself. Gracename: GigaChad420 Georgio froze, then his face lit up like I¡¯d just discovered fire. ¡°Ah, magnifique! A name that strikes both awe and intimidation into the hearts of all who hear it! GigaChad420¡ªtruly legendary!¡± ¡°Wait, no,¡± I said quickly, realizing he was serious. ¡°That was supposed to be a j¡ª¡± ¡°Done!¡± Georgio exclaimed, snapping his fingers. ¡°The name is locked in! May the world remember you as GigaChad420, the Virgin Destroyer!¡± I buried my face in my hands. ¡°I¡¯m going to regret this, aren¡¯t I?¡± But before I could dwell on it, the training grounds started to dissolve. Georgio gave me a flourishing bow. ¡°Farewell, GigaChad420! May your journey be one of glory, charm, and¡­ seduction.¡± The next thing I knew, I was standing in the middle of a bustling medieval town square. Cobblestone streets stretched ahead of me, lined with vendors selling fruits, weapons, and who-knows-what. NPCs walked by, chatting, arguing, and doing NPC things. It was way more alive than I¡¯d expected. Above me, a glowing banner flashed in the sky like a congratulatory slap to the face: New Player Arrival: GigaChad420, Player #1000! I cringed as the message hung there, like some cosmic joke broadcast to everyone in earshot. Before I could even process how stupid my Gracename looked in neon lights, another message popped up. World Announcement: Attention, players. The 1000th user has entered the game. The system¡¯s fail-safe has been activated. A sharp DING rang through the air, loud enough to make me wince. The NPCs around me froze mid-step, their faces going blank like someone had yanked their batteries out. ¡°Attention, players,¡± a booming voice echoed, cutting through the frozen square. ¡°Due to unforeseen circumstances, you are now unable to log out of Dungeon Realms Online.¡± My stomach dropped. World Announcement: Players are now trapped inside Dungeon Realms Online. The only way to escape is to unlock the Sixth Island and complete the final dungeon. The words hung in the air for a moment, glowing in ominous red text. Nearby players started shouting in confusion, while I just stood there, staring at the message like it might disappear if I ignored it long enough. Spoiler: it didn¡¯t. Another notification appeared directly in front of me, as if it hadn¡¯t already been clear enough: Your current objective has been updated: - Survive. ¡°Well,¡± I muttered, scratching the back of my neck. ¡°This escalated quickly.¡± The NPCs around me came back to life, resuming their routines like nothing had happened. Other players wandered past, some yelling into the void about lawsuits, others muttering nervously to themselves. I glanced at the sky one more time, half-hoping this was all just an elaborate prank. But nope¡ªthere it was, mocking me in big glowing letters: GigaChad420 ¡°Fantastic,¡± I muttered. ¡°Trapped in a death game, and I¡¯m stuck with the dumbest name imaginable. Great start, Lucas. Really killing it.¡± And with that, my journey as GigaChad420, the Virgin Destroyer, officially began. Chapter 3 I took a step forward. Then another. The cobblestone streets stretched ahead, winding through a town that looked way too fancy for a starter zone. Normally, beginner areas had that charming, rundown, ¡°we just got raided by bandits¡± aesthetic¡ªwooden shacks, muddy roads, some grumpy old guy handing out rusty daggers. Not here. This place was clean. Gothic towers, fancy stonework, flickering lanterns that didn¡¯t even look like they were struggling to stay lit. It had that whole ¡°old money¡± vibe, the kind of place where people didn¡¯t even pretend to work for a living. And the people? Yeah, that¡¯s where it got weird. The NPC men all looked like rich assholes. The kind of guys who show up to clubs in tailored suits and never have to pay for their own drinks. Perfect hair, expensive-looking clothes, permanently smug expressions. If NPCs could own yachts, these guys would have three. Then there were the women. Holy. Shit. Every single one looked like someone had taken every anime waifu trope and dialed them up to eleven. Stupidly curvy, with huge tits, tiny waists, and hips that could take down a lesser man. Perfect skin, glossy lips, sultry eyes that looked like they belonged in some over-the-top romance visual novel. They weren¡¯t just attractive. They were the kind of hot that actively rewired your brain. And then there were the players. Regular dudes. Nerd posture. Bad haircuts. Some gym bros here and there, but most looked like they crawled out of a Discord server after a 12-hour gaming session. It was like stepping into a fantasy movie where the main cast was played by actual gods, and the extras were just a bunch of Twitch streamers who lost a bet. I barely had time to process that before some guy in beat-up leather armor walked past and scoffed. ¡°Another fresh one? Hope you last longer than the last guy.¡± I frowned. ¡°Wait. What happened to the last guy?¡± He just chuckled under his breath and kept walking. Okay. Super comforting. I sighed and pulled up my menu, tapping on the map tab. A single name appeared. Current Location: Shadow Land. And¡­ that was it. No world map. No explanation. No ¡°Here¡¯s where you are, champ¡± tooltip. Just a big fat nothing. That¡¯s when it hit me. Georgio. That mustachioed fraud. I replayed the ¡°tutorial¡± in my head, if you could even call it that. What did I actually learn? ? How to open my menu. ? How to pick a name. ? That my class name is Virgin Destroyer. (Still recovering from that one.) What did I not learn? ? Where the hell I was. ? How this world actually worked. ? WHERE TO GET A GODDAMN WEAPON. Yeah. Fantastic tutorial. Ten out of ten. Alright. First goal? Find a quest. Up ahead, I spotted a building with a swinging wooden sign¡ªThe Tavern of Shadows. If fantasy games had taught me anything, taverns were where quests happened. I stepped inside. It was packed. Not with loud, rowdy players, but with NPCs¡ªdrinking, talking, exchanging whispers that felt way too serious. The players? Hunched in the corners, quiet, out of place. Like they knew they weren¡¯t running the show here. At a side table, a grizzled old man chewed on a toothpick, watching me like he was already disappointed. I walked up. ¡°Hey. You got work?¡± The old man squinted. ¡°New blood, huh?¡± He snorted. ¡°Bring me five wolf pelts from the forest outside town. Do that, and we¡¯ll see if you¡¯re worth something.¡± I sighed. ¡°Alright. Sounds easy enough.¡± Then my brain caught up. ¡°¡­Wait. I don¡¯t have a weapon.¡± Markus raised an eyebrow. ¡°What?¡± ¡°I said, I don¡¯t have a weapon. Tutorial didn¡¯t give me one.¡± Markus just stared at me. ¡°That¡¯s not my problem. Every new player gets one in the tutorial.¡± Oh. You mean the fantastic tutorial where Georgio spent twenty minutes hyping up my class name but forgot to give me a goddamn sword? I clenched my jaw. ¡°Right. About that. My tutorial guide was¡­ let¡¯s say distracted by his own dramatic flair. Can you, I don¡¯t know, help me out here?¡± Markus smirked. ¡°Sounds like you got scammed, kid.¡±The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. I exhaled through my nose. Panic was starting to creep in. This wasn¡¯t a game where I could just punch trees for wood and craft a beginner sword. There was no tutorial pop-up, no emergency loot chest for clueless idiots like me. I clenched my fists. ¡°Come on, man, I just got here. I don¡¯t have a weapon, I don¡¯t even know how this place works, and I¡¯m supposed to fight wolves with my bare hands?¡± Markus sighed, chewing his toothpick. ¡°Not my problem.¡± My stomach tightened. I needed something. Anything. I exhaled, trying not to let the frustration show. ¡°Look¡­ just lend me something. Anything. I¡¯ll bring it back, I swear.¡± Markus studied me for a moment. He didn¡¯t look amused. Didn¡¯t look sympathetic, either. Just tired. Then, with a grunt, he reached under the table and pulled out a wooden crate. Rummaged through it. A second later, he dropped something into my hands. A katana. Rusted, chipped, like it had been sitting in a basement for years. I blinked. ¡°Wait. Seriously?¡± Markus grunted. ¡°It¡¯s dull, and if you break it, I¡¯m taking a finger.¡± I didn¡¯t even hesitate. ¡°Deal.¡± I stepped out of the tavern, finally armed with something other than my sparkling personality. Before I could even make it to the city gates, I saw a little girl sitting on the side of the road, crying. I hesitated. That¡¯s an NPC. A little girl NPC. In any other game, she¡¯d just be set dressing. Background noise. But here¡­ in DRO¡­ Something about the way her shoulders shook felt too real. I sighed. Guess the wolves can wait. I walked over. ¡°Hey, kid,¡± I said, crouching down. ¡°You okay?¡± The girl sniffled and looked up at me with big, teary eyes. ¡°I¡­ I can¡¯t find my mommy¡­¡± My stomach dropped. Oh, shit. Okay. This was already too real. In any other game, lost child NPCs just stood around, waiting for someone to click on them. No emotion. No stress. Just a looping animation and a generic voice line. But this kid? She was breathing unevenly, eyes red and puffy like she¡¯d been crying for a while. I sighed, running a hand through my hair. ¡°Alright, kid. Where¡¯d you last see her?¡± She sniffled. ¡°M-Marketplace¡­¡± I looked around. The Marketplace could mean a lot of things in a town this big. There were plenty of fancy-looking stalls and shops, but no frantic mothers running around screaming, ¡°Where¡¯s my child?!¡± Which meant either this was a scripted quest, or¡­ something worse. ¡°Okay. I¡¯ll help you find her,¡± I said, standing up. The little girl blinked, like she hadn¡¯t expected me to say yes. ¡°Really?¡± ¡°Yeah, yeah. Just¡­ stop looking at me like that, alright? It¡¯s guilt-tripping me into being a decent person.¡± She let out a small giggle, still sniffling, but at least she wasn¡¯t sobbing anymore. Progress. I held out a hand. ¡°Come on, kid. Let¡¯s find your mom before she reports you missing to fantasy CPS.¡± She took my hand without hesitation. Which, again, was way too real. I exhaled, glancing at the Marketplace ahead. A few NPC merchants were still calling out to potential customers, pushing overpriced fruit and suspicious-looking potions. A couple of players lingered nearby, keeping to themselves. I had no idea where to even start looking. ¡°Okay, so, uh¡­ what¡¯s your mom¡¯s name?¡± ¡°Maribel,¡± the girl mumbled. I nodded. ¡°Got it. We¡¯ll find her in no time.¡± That was a lie. I had absolutely no plan. And judging by how weird this game was, I had a feeling this wouldn¡¯t be as simple as talking to a quest NPC. ¡°Maribel,¡± she had said. Lost in the crowd. Supposedly. But after stopping at a few different stalls, it became painfully clear that no one knew who the hell Maribel was. I wasn¡¯t surprised. NPC logic. Some only responded when they had the right trigger, and apparently, I hadn¡¯t found it yet. No big deal. Before I could figure out my next move, someone called out to me. ¡°Hey, new guy!¡± I turned to see a small group of players approaching. Unlike the NPCs¡ªwho all looked like they belonged in a fantasy drama¡ªthese guys looked like, well, regular dudes. A little unshaven, a little sweaty, and very, very stressed. One of them, a lanky guy in mismatched armor, gave me a weird look. ¡°Dude. How are you so chill right now?¡± I blinked. ¡°What?¡± Another player, a stocky dude with a nervous twitch, waved his hands like he was trying to conduct an invisible orchestra. ¡°We can¡¯t log out, man! We¡¯re stuck in here! You¡¯re just¡­ walking around like it¡¯s no big deal!¡± Oh. That. Hadn¡¯t really thought about it yet. I shrugged. ¡°Huh. Didn¡¯t try that yet.¡± I pulled up my menu, tapped the Log Out button. Nothing happened. The option wasn¡¯t just disabled¡ªit was grayed out, like it was never meant to be available in the first place. I stared at it for a second, then closed the menu. ¡°Well,¡± I said. ¡°That sucks.¡± The players just gawked at me. ¡°That¡¯s it?! You¡¯re not freaking out?!¡± ¡°What do you want me to do, dude? Cry?¡± The lanky one ran a shaky hand through his hair. ¡°I mean¡ªkind of?! This is life or death, man! What if we¡¯re trapped forever?!¡± I sighed. ¡°Okay, let¡¯s assume that¡¯s true. What¡¯s freaking out gonna do for you?¡± The guy opened his mouth, then closed it. ¡°Exactly,¡± I said, nodding. ¡°I got a lost kid to deal with, so unless you guys have a lead on a missing lady named Maribel, I¡¯m gonna keep moving.¡± And just like that, I turned and walked off, leaving them staring at me like I was some kind of sociopath. Man. Some people really didn¡¯t handle MMOs well. I glanced down at the little girl beside me. She had been watching me carefully the entire time. ¡°¡­What?¡± I asked. She hesitated. ¡°Are you¡­ really not scared?¡± I sighed. ¡°Nah. I¡¯ll be fine. I always am.¡± She didn¡¯t say anything. Just kept watching me. We walked in silence for a bit before she finally spoke again. ¡°There¡¯s an alchemy shop,¡± she mumbled. I raised an eyebrow. ¡°Okay?¡± ¡°My¡­ mommy might be there,¡± she said hesitantly. Finally. A lead. ¡°Alright,¡± I said. ¡°Let¡¯s check it out.¡± The shop itself looked different from the other buildings¡ªdarker wood, tinted windows. There were strange symbols carved into the doorframe, and the sign above the entrance simply read: Nightwell Alchemy. I exhaled. ¡°Alright, kid. Let¡¯s see if your mom is inside.¡± She didn¡¯t say anything, just pushed the door open and hurried in. I followed, and immediately felt out of place. Jars of glowing liquid lined the walls, some bubbling softly, others filled with things that definitely used to be alive. Dried herbs hung from the ceiling, filling the air with a sharp, earthy scent. The place had that ¡°witch¡¯s workshop¡± aesthetic, and if this had been a normal game, I would¡¯ve assumed I was about to meet some wrinkled old potion master. Instead, the woman behind the counter was hot as hell. Tall. Pale. Long, dark hair that cascaded down her back in perfect waves. Full curves that made her tight black dress work overtime. And her eyes¡ª green, glowing faintly in the dim light. Like she could see right through me. She didn¡¯t look up at first, busy grinding something into a fine powder. ¡°Back so soon, Elisabeth? I thought I told you to¡ª¡± Then she glanced up. Her eyes landed on me. She blinked. Once. Twice. Then her lips curled into a very unimpressed smirk. ¡°¡­And what exactly is this?¡± I raised a hand. ¡°Uh. Hi?¡± The little girl¡ªElisabeth, apparently¡ªran straight to her and latched onto her waist. ¡°Mommy!¡± I froze. Wait. What. I stared at the kid, then back at the goth bombshell standing in front of me. Mommy? There¡¯s no way. I looked her up and down. Looked at the kid again. I frowned. ¡°¡­You had a kid at, what, age six?¡± The woman sighed, rubbing her temples like she was already regretting this interaction. ¡°I swear, the things that come out of your mouths¡­¡± She finally focused on me. ¡°Alright, player. Explain.¡± Right. Explaining. That thing I should probably be doing. I scratched the back of my head. ¡°Uh, yeah. So. Found your kid crying in the street. She said she lost her mom¡ªshe said her name was Maribel. Which, I¡¯m guessing, isn¡¯t you.¡± A flicker of irritation crossed her face, but it was gone just as quickly. ¡°Maribel,¡± she repeated flatly. Then she looked down at Elisabeth. ¡°Really?¡± The kid hid behind her skirt. ¡°¡­I panicked,¡± she mumbled. The woman sighed again, then turned back to me. ¡°Well, since you¡¯ve gone through the trouble of playing hero, I suppose I should thank you.¡± She didn¡¯t sound thankful. ¡°Right,¡± I said. ¡°So¡­ what¡¯s actually going on here?¡± The woman arched an eyebrow. ¡°You¡¯re new here, aren¡¯t you?¡± I shrugged. ¡°That obvious?¡± ¡°Painfully.¡± She studied me for a moment, then smirked. ¡°You¡¯re lucky, though. Most players don¡¯t walk into my shop without knowing who I am first.¡± I raised an eyebrow. ¡°And you are¡­?¡± She leaned forward slightly, voice dropping into something dangerously smooth. ¡°Aveline Nightwell.¡± I had no idea what that meant. Chapter 4 Aveline flicked her wrist, and a small pouch of coins landed in my hand. It had some weight to it¡ªdefinitely not just a couple of pennies. ¡°Consider it payment for your heroic efforts,¡± she said, voice dripping with sarcasm. I pulled open the pouch and peeked inside. Gold coins. A decent stack of them. ¡°How much is this worth?¡± I asked. ¡°One hundred gold,¡± Aveline replied, already turning away like she had more important things to do. One hundred gold. For all I knew, I just got scammed out of proper payment, or I was walking around with enough money to buy a castle. I frowned at the pouch. Alright, let¡¯s see how this works. Inspect. The second I thought the word, a small translucent box blinked into existence in front of me. [Item: Coin Pouch ¨C 100 Gold] Currency used in Shadow Land and other regions. Standard trading unit. Gold is valuable, but excessive amounts may attract unwanted attention. I stared at the notification. Huh. Alright. That works. I waved my hand, and the box vanished. So I can inspect items manually. Cool. Georgio¡¯s tutorial was complete garbage, so if I wanted to learn basic mechanics, I¡¯d have to figure them out myself. Thankfully, I was a pro gamer. Time to test some shit. First, I opened my inventory to check if there was a weight limit. I focused on the pouch of gold and willed it into my inventory. The pouch flickered out of existence. [Item stored in Inventory.] Alright, so there was an inventory system. Next test. I picked up a random glass bottle from a shelf near the door. Just some cheap empty vial for potions. Inspect. [Item: Empty Vial] Type: Miscellaneous Quality: Common Description: A basic glass container used for potions. Fragile. Okay, so the system works on anything, not just important items. Next test. Could I store random objects? I focused on the vial and willed it into my inventory. Nothing happened. [Error: Item cannot be stored ¨C Owner: Nightwell Alchemy] I blinked. Oh. Ohhh. I glanced at Aveline. Yep. That tracked. So I couldn¡¯t just shove random shop items into my inventory. Ownership was a thing. That meant players couldn¡¯t rob NPCs blind just by abusing the system. Smart. I put the vial back and pulled out my katana instead. The blade looked even shittier in proper lighting. Dull edge, questionable stains, and I was 90% sure it would snap in half if I swung too hard. Inspect. [Item: Rusted Katana] Type: One-Handed Sword Quality: Poor Damage: 3-7 Durability: 12/50 Description: A once-fine blade that has seen better days. Probably worth more as scrap metal. Twelve durability. Out of fifty. I exhaled. ¡°Yeah. That tracks.¡± Alright, next test¡ªcould I store weapons? I focused on the katana and willed it into my inventory. The blade flickered out of existence. Perfect. I turned toward the door. ¡°Alright, kid, see ya.¡± I glanced at Elisabeth¡ªshe was half-hiding behind Aveline¡¯s dress, staring at me with those big, wide eyes. I gave her a small nod. She hesitated, then lifted her hand in a shy little wave.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. Didn¡¯t say a word. I stepped out of the alchemy shop and into the cool night air, rolling my shoulders. Time to kill some wolves. But out of the corner of my eye, I instinctively glanced at the bottom of my vision¡ªwhere any decent MMO would keep the XP bar. There it was. And¡­ it wasn¡¯t empty. I stopped walking. Wait. What? I had XP. Not a lot, but definitely more than zero. That made no sense. I hadn¡¯t fought anything yet. Hadn¡¯t completed a quest. Frowning, I pulled up my menu. There had to be a reason. The interface opened up¡ªsleek, minimalistic, thankfully not a confusing mess of tabs. I scrolled until I found something labeled ¡°Quests.¡± Alright. Let¡¯s see what¡¯s going on. I tapped it, and a new screen appeared. [Completed Quests] Lost and Found You helped a lost child return home. Sometimes, kindness is rewarded. Reward: 50 XP, 100 Gold (Received) I blinked. Huh. So that counted as a quest. I wasn¡¯t used to getting XP for something that didn¡¯t involve stabbing things, but hey¡ªI¡¯d take it. Since I was here, I scrolled through the settings tab. If I was stuck in this game, I might as well set things up the way I liked them. First up¡ªnotifications. By default, every single little thing was turned on. New quest obtained! XP gained! Inventory updated! You took a single step! Yeah. No thanks. I adjusted the settings: There. Much better. I closed the menu and resumed my walk toward the city gates. No distractions. No unnecessary pop-ups. Just me, my rusted katana, and an unknown number of wolves waiting to ruin my day. The second I stepped past the city gates, the world hit different. Not just ¡°good graphics¡± different. Not ¡°wow, nice textures¡± different. I¡¯m talking Witcher 3 ultra settings, Elden Ring at sunrise, Red Dead 2 with max ray tracing. The trees weren¡¯t just props¡ªthey swayed, shifting shadows across the path as the golden light bled through their branches. The grass moved like it had individual physics, bending with the wind, every blade crisp enough to make me question reality. I crouched, running my fingers through the grass. It wasn¡¯t just visually detailed¡ªI could feel it. The soft brush of blades against my skin, the subtle dampness from morning dew. This was next-level immersion. Mountains loomed in the distance, not some painted skybox illusion, but real, solid, like I could actually climb them. A stream cut through the landscape, its surface catching the light in perfect reflections¡ªwater physics so good it deserved its own tech demo. And the sound? Birds chirped, leaves rustled, and the wind carried the distant howl of something that definitely wasn¡¯t friendly. I exhaled. Alright. Let¡¯s see what¡¯s interactable. A cluster of bright blue flowers grew near the path, their petals almost glowing in the sunlight. They looked like something straight out of a potion recipe, so I crouched down and reached for one. Nothing happened. I frowned and focused harder, trying again. Pluck. The flower came loose with a soft snap, and a system message popped up. [Item Acquired: Azure Bloom] Type: Alchemy Ingredient Description: A vibrant blue flower known for its mild healing properties. Commonly used in beginner potions. Nice. So gathering plants worked. I pulled up my inventory and willed the flower inside. It disappeared, stored safely away. Alright, that worked. What else could I grab? I spotted a flat stone near the path and bent down, picking it up. Nothing. I tried storing it. [Error: Item cannot be stored ¨C No system value detected.] So random junk didn¡¯t count. Only stuff the game recognized as useful. I sighed and was about to move on when something caught my eye. A boulder sat just off the path, wedged between a cluster of tree roots. Unlike the small rock I just tried to pick up, this thing looked important. Could I mine it? Most MMOs had crafting systems, and if this game was really as immersive as it seemed, then maybe¡­ I¡¯d need a pickaxe. That would explain why I couldn¡¯t grab random rocks¡ªmaybe the game had resource nodes, and I needed the right tools. If that was true, then maybe there were full crafting professions¡ªblacksmithing, alchemy, even base-building. Man. That would be sick. I made a mental note to check for shops selling pickaxes later. But for now¡­ wolves. But as I walked, something clicked. Wait. Didn¡¯t I have an actual quest? I had checked my quest log earlier, but all I saw was the Elisabeth side quest. I swiped open my menu again, scrolling until I found the Quests tab. Sure enough, there it was. [Active Quest: Prove Your Worth] Markus has tasked you with hunting wolves in the forest outside town. Bring back five pelts to show your competence. Objective: Rewards: Alright, nothing surprising. Basic MMO hunting quest. The rewards weren¡¯t great, but it was my only real lead right now. The deeper I went, the quieter it got¡ªno birds, no rustling, just the distant whisper of the wind through the trees. Then I heard it. A low growl. I froze. My fingers hovered near my inventory as I scanned the underbrush. Something big was moving. Shadows shifted between the trees, golden eyes gleaming through the dim light. Another growl, closer this time. Then, a wolf stepped into view. Not some scrawny, low-poly MMO starter enemy. This thing was huge¡ªeasily the size of a full-grown Rottweiler, its fur bristling, claws digging into the dirt. When it bared its fangs, I got a perfect view of teeth meant for tearing flesh. Mine, specifically. My heart pounded. Alright. First real fight. Let¡¯s do this. I pulled my katana from my inventory¡ªthe dull metal flashing in the light as I took my stance. Feet apart, blade raised. The wolf lunged. Shit¡ª! I twisted to the side on instinct. Not fast enough. Teeth tore into my forearm. A white-hot burst of pain shot through my nerves, so raw and real that my vision blurred for a split second. I stumbled back, gasping, and my mind screamed at me¡ª That fucking HURT. I¡¯d been expecting damage numbers or maybe some dull impact, but no¡ªthis was full sensory pain. My arm burned where the wolf¡¯s teeth had ripped through skin, warm blood dripping down my sleeve. The wolf landed gracefully, already turning to lunge again. I gritted my teeth. Alright. If this game was gonna play for keeps, so would I. I tightened my grip and swung my katana¡ª The blade sliced through the air, catching the wolf¡¯s flank. A sharp yelp¡ªit staggered back, blood staining its fur. It wasn¡¯t a deep wound, but it was enough. The wolf circled me now, slower, more cautious. I exhaled, adjusting my stance. My arm throbbed from the bite, but adrenaline kept the pain at the edge of my focus. Alright. Now I know two things. One: I can actually get hurt. Two: So can they. The wolf snarled, lowering itself for another attack. I took a deep breath, steadying my katana. Round two. Let¡¯s go. Alright. No more sloppy reactions. Time to play this like a real game. I¡¯ve fought a hundred enemies like this before¡ªnot here, but in Elden Ring, Dark Souls, Monster Hunter. AI always followed patterns. Enemies had wind-ups, tells, weaknesses they telegraphed if you just paid attention. I focused. The wolf¡¯s front paw shifted slightly, muscles tensing. There. That¡¯s the prep movement. It¡¯s about to¡ª Lunge. I sidestepped before it even left the ground. Not barely in time¡ªbut clean. The wolf flew past me, jaws snapping at empty air. Wide open. Exposed. Now. I whipped my katana upward, aiming for the neck. The blade sliced clean through flesh. A choked yelp¡ªthen silence. The wolf collapsed, its body hitting the dirt with a dull thud. I exhaled, lowering my blade. One hit. Instant kill. Blood pooled beneath the corpse, dark against the forest floor. My heartbeat slowed, adrenaline fading. Damn. That felt¡­ good. I expected the wolf¡¯s body to just¡­ stay there. Maybe I¡¯d have to skin it manually or something. Instead, the corpse shimmered, dissolving into wisps of light. A small brown bag dropped onto the ground where it had been. Huh. So loot bags. I bent down and grabbed it, and the moment my fingers touched the fabric, a small system window popped up. [Loot Acquired] Just the pelt. No gold, no extra drops. Makes sense. Early-game mobs weren¡¯t gonna shower me in loot. I willed the bag into my inventory, and it vanished. Five of these, and I¡¯d be done. I rolled my shoulders, gripping my katana again. Alright. Next. I scanned the trees, my ears tuned for movement. Chapter 5 The last wolf hit the dirt, twitching once before going still. I exhaled, rolling my shoulders. Five down. Quest complete. I bent down, grabbed the loot bag, and tossed it into my inventory. That made five. Time to¡ª Wait. I glanced at my XP bar. Not because I expected a level-up or anything, but because, well¡­ I always checked. Years of grinding in MMOs had drilled that habit into my soul. And yeah. Something was off. My XP had moved. Barely. I squinted. That can¡¯t be right. I just killed five wolves. Even if this game was stingy with XP, it should¡¯ve jumped up a decent amount. Instead? I had only gained a tiny sliver. Like I¡¯d smacked a training dummy for an hour. What the hell? Huh. Maybe wolves just gave garbage XP. Maybe the devs had some weird anti-grinding system to keep players from cheesing early mobs. I hadn¡¯t really checked their levels or anything, but now that I thought about it¡­ there weren¡¯t any. No names. No health bars. Just regular-ass wolves doing wolf things. Whatever. Not my problem right now. I closed my menu and turned toward the town. Time to get paid. The road back to town was quiet. Too quiet. I expected to see other players farming wolves, maybe some NPC travelers, but instead? Empty streets, empty fields. Just the steady crunch of my boots on dirt and the distant hum of the city ahead. Something felt¡­ off. And then I saw him. A broad-shouldered man stood right in the middle of the road, arms crossed, watching me. His armor looked expensive, not the kind a low-level scrub like me could afford. I slowed my pace. NPC or player? The second I got close, he sneered. ¡°New guy, huh? You must not know how things work around here.¡± No level information. NPC. Definitely an NPC. I kept walking. ¡°Enlighten me.¡± He stepped forward, blocking my path. ¡°There¡¯s a toll to enter the city,¡± he said. ¡°Five gold.¡± I raised an eyebrow. ¡°Five gold?¡± That was literally my entire quest reward. I sighed. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m gonna go ahead and say no.¡± His smirk widened. ¡°Not a choice. You either pay up, or we take it from you.¡± Oh? So that¡¯s how this was gonna be. I stared at him for a long moment. Then I let out a dramatic sigh, rubbing my temples like I was personally exhausted by his incompetence. ¡°Wow. Nobody told you, huh?¡± The thug blinked. ¡°Told me what?¡± I scoffed. Loudly. The kind of scoff you give a retail worker when they tell you coupons don¡¯t stack. ¡°This is embarrassing,¡± I muttered, shaking my head. ¡°Really embarrassing.¡± The thug actually looked nervous. ¡°What the hell are you talking about?¡± I crossed my arms. ¡°You¡¯re shaking down the wrong guy, moron. I was literally just recruited this morning.¡± The thug frowned. ¡°Recruited? By who?¡± I squared my shoulders and gave him the most self-important look possible. ¡°By Georgio.¡± Silence. The thug squinted. ¡°Georgio?¡± I nodded. ¡°Yeah. Georgio.¡± His face went blank. A tiny flicker of panic flashed in his eyes. He had no idea who I was talking about. But the thing about stupid people is that they¡¯d rather die than admit they don¡¯t know something. So instead of asking questions, the thug nodded slowly. ¡°¡­Right. Georgio.¡± I nearly burst out laughing. Got him. Now to double down. ¡°You know how he is,¡± I continued. ¡°Always making last-minute changes, never telling anyone. Classic Georgio.¡± The thug gave a slow, thoughtful nod. ¡°Yeah. Classic Georgio.¡± There was sweat forming on his forehead.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. I sighed dramatically. ¡°You must be new if nobody told you about the Newcomer Welcome Tax.¡± His eyes twitched. ¡°The¡­ what?¡± I shook my head, giving him a pitying look. ¡°Oh wow, they really didn¡¯t train you properly, huh?¡± I patted his shoulder like he was a struggling intern. ¡°See, Georgio specifically told me that new recruits are entitled to a first-time visitor bonus. Meaning, you owe me five gold.¡± The thug¡¯s jaw clenched. His brain was overheating. ¡°That¡¯s not¡ª¡± ¡°Oh? So you¡¯re saying Georgio is wrong?¡± Pure panic. He had no way to dispute this. ¡°I¡ªI didn¡¯t say that!¡± he stammered. I nodded sagely. ¡°Good, because the last guy who said that?¡± I whistled. ¡°Yikes.¡± The thug visibly gulped. I held out my hand. ¡°Now, about that five gold?¡± His hand twitched toward his coin pouch. I could barely keep a straight face. Then, at the last second, he froze. ¡°Wait,¡± he muttered. ¡°Hold on. That doesn¡¯t make sense. That¡¯s¡ª¡± Shit. He¡¯s rebooting. I immediately clapped a hand on his shoulder. ¡°No, no, don¡¯t think about it too hard.¡± He blinked. ¡°But¡ª¡± ¡°Trust me,¡± I whispered, leaning in slightly. ¡°It¡¯s better that way.¡± He stood there, gears turning in his NPC brain, his face a perfect mix of confusion and blind obedience. Then, slowly, he stepped aside. ¡°¡­Fine,¡± he muttered. ¡°Just get out of here before I change my mind.¡± I nodded seriously. ¡°You made the right choice.¡± Then, with all the grace and dignity of a man who had just bullshitted his way out of paying a fake toll, I walked past him without looking back. I half-expected the thug to suddenly realize he¡¯d been scammed and come sprinting after me, but nope. I was home free. Now, I just had to turn in this stupid wolf quest and¡ª ¡°Oh, look who survived.¡± Markus was exactly where I left him, sitting at the same rickety tavern table, chewing on the same damn toothpick. He barely glanced up as I approached. I dropped the five pelts onto the table. ¡°One wolf genocide, as requested.¡± Markus grunted, picking up one of the pelts and inspecting it. ¡°Huh. You actually did it.¡± I blinked. ¡°Wait. Did you send me out there expecting me to fail?¡± He shrugged. ¡°Most of the fresh ones don¡¯t make it back.¡± Oh. Cool. So my first-ever quest was actually a death sentence in disguise. Awesome game design. Markus tossed the pelts into a sack behind him, then reached into his coat and pulled out a small pouch. ¡°Here. Your reward.¡± A system notification popped up. [Quest Complete: Prove Your Worth] 75 XP 5 Gold Received I swiped the message away and pocketed the gold. Nice. Now to¡ª Wait. My XP bar barely budged. What the fuck? That was a quest reward. Those always gave decent XP. Markus¡¯s eyes narrowed. He stared at me like I was a puzzle he couldn¡¯t quite figure out. ¡°¡­Something¡¯s wrong,¡± he muttered. I stiffened. ¡°Uh. What?¡± Markus tapped his fingers against the table, studying me. ¡°You should¡¯ve leveled up.¡± I tried to keep my expression neutral. ¡°XP must be kinda slow in this game.¡± Markus¡¯s frown deepened. ¡°No. Every recruit hits Level 2 after this quest. That¡¯s how it¡¯s designed.¡± ¡­Well. Shit. I forced a laugh. ¡°Well, guess I¡¯m just built different.¡± He didn¡¯t laugh. In fact, he looked even more suspicious. For a second, I thought he was about to accuse me of cheating or something. Instead, he just shook his head and muttered, ¡°Hmph. Must be a bug.¡± I nodded way too quickly. ¡°Yup. Total bug. Hate when that happens.¡± Markus eyed me for another second before waving me off. ¡°Whatever. You¡¯re done here.¡± He didn¡¯t need to tell me twice. I turned on my heel, walking away at a completely normal pace and definitely not like someone escaping a crime scene. Alright. That was weird. Markus made it sound like leveling up after that quest was a guarantee. But I was still stuck at Level 1. I opened my menu and stared at my XP bar. There was a bump. A tiny one. Like the system had given me XP but immediately regretted it. I frowned. That wasn¡¯t normal. Quest rewards were supposed to be one of the fastest ways to level up. Alright. Time for some science. Test #1: Punching Something I glanced around, then spotted a wooden crate sitting near a shop entrance. I cracked my knuckles. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s see if destruction equals XP.¡± I reeled back and punched the crate. [THUD.] Pain shot through my knuckles. ¡°Ow. Shit.¡± The crate didn¡¯t even budge. XP bar? Still the same. A passing NPC gave me a concerned glance before hurrying away. Alright. That¡¯s a no. Test #2: Talking to NPCs I turned to the nearest merchant¡ªa greasy-looking guy selling apples. ¡°Hey,¡± I said. ¡°Do I get XP for talking to you?¡± The guy blinked. ¡°What?¡± ¡°XP. Do I get any?¡± ¡°¡­You want to buy an apple?¡± I sighed. ¡°Forget it.¡± XP bar? Still empty. Test #3: Parkour? Some games gave XP for exploring, so I climbed up onto a barrel, then jumped onto a nearby roof ledge. Aaaaand slipped. I crashed back to the ground, landing hard on my back. [1 HP lost.] A nearby player actually laughed. XP bar? Still barely moved. Conclusion? This game was bullshit. But not just normal bullshit¡ªspecific bullshit. Something about my class was gimping my XP gains. I sighed and dusted myself off. Clearly, normal actions weren¡¯t giving me XP. Which meant something about my class was different. And I had zero idea what. I let out a breath. Alright. Fine. If I wasn¡¯t getting answers here, I might as well explore the city and see what else this place had to offer. With that, I turned and headed deeper into the streets of Shadow Land. Shadow Land was weird. Half the city looked like rich aristocrats sipping wine in fancy courtyards. The other half? Felt like somewhere you¡¯d wake up without your wallet. I was in that second half. The streets were narrower here, the buildings older, the people less likely to say ¡°good afternoon¡± and more likely to say ¡°give me your coin pouch.¡± Which is why I wasn¡¯t surprised when a voice called out: ¡°Hey, fresh meat.¡± I stopped walking. A guy leaned against a nearby wall, arms crossed, giving me the universal ¡®you¡¯re about to get scammed¡¯ look. He was tall, thin, and dressed in a long brown coat. I sighed. ¡°Let me guess. You want me to invest in your new cryptocurrency?¡± The guy actually laughed. ¡°Nah, nothing like that. Just a little¡­ business opportunity.¡± Oh boy. I glanced around. The street was mostly empty, just a few NPCs lingering nearby. Nobody watching too closely. I crossed my arms. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s hear it. What kind of totally legal business are we talking about?¡± The guy smirked. ¡°You¡¯re new, right? That means you¡¯re off the radar. Perfect for handling¡­ deliveries.¡± I blinked. Ah. A courier job. The NPC leaned in slightly. ¡°All you gotta do is take a small package to a certain shop. No questions asked.¡± Yeah. Because that¡¯s not suspicious at all. ¡°What¡¯s in the package?¡± I asked. The guy¡¯s smirk didn¡¯t waver. ¡°No questions asked.¡± ¡°Riiight,¡± I said. ¡°And if I open it?¡± His smirk disappeared. ¡°You don¡¯t.¡± Uh-huh. Totally normal. Definitely not illegal. I rubbed my chin, pretending to think. ¡°And how much does this very legitimate delivery job pay?¡± ¡°Ten gold,¡± he said smoothly. ¡°For a first-timer.¡± I raised an eyebrow. Ten gold? That was double what Markus gave me for almost getting eaten by wolves. Which meant two things:
  1. This job was shady as hell.
  2. I kinda wanted to see how far I could push this guy.
I sighed dramatically. ¡°Man, I don¡¯t know¡­ Georgio said I should stay away from jobs like this.¡± The guy frowned. ¡°Georgio?¡± I nodded seriously. ¡°Yeah, Georgio. You know how he is. Always warning new recruits about bad deals.¡± The guy squinted, clearly trying to figure out who the hell Georgio was. But like the toll collector, he didn¡¯t want to admit he didn¡¯t know. So instead, he just nodded. ¡°¡­Right. Georgio.¡± I almost laughed. Too easy. ¡°Tell you what,¡± I said, lowering my voice like we were co-conspirators. ¡°I¡¯ll take the job¡­ but I need a little advance. You know, for expenses.¡± The guy hesitated. I gave him the most confident look I could. ¡°You know how Georgio does things,¡± I added casually. And that was it. He sighed and pulled five gold out of his pouch, handing it to me. I took it, nodded like a true professional, then walked away. Without the package. Chapter 6 So, funny thing about bullshitting your way through life. It only works if the person you¡¯re scamming isn¡¯t a reality-warping nightmare in disguise. Because just as I turned to leave¡ªthinking I had successfully walked away with free money and zero consequences¡ªthe shady bastard teleported right in front of me. I froze mid-step. He was still smiling. Which was worse. The playful con-man act? Gone. What stood in front of me now was something colder. Less ¡°I might scam you,¡± and more ¡°I might peel your skin off just to see how it looks on my wall.¡± ¡°You think you¡¯re clever, don¡¯t you?¡± His voice was calm, but something about it itched at the back of my skull. I stayed still, keeping my expression neutral. ¡°I mean, I wouldn¡¯t say genius, but yeah, I do alright.¡± The space around us felt wrong. The buildings, the shadows¡ªthey stretched. Like the whole street had subtly warped to accommodate this guy¡¯s presence. ¡°You can play whatever games you like,¡± he continued. ¡°But if you mess with me again¡­ you¡¯ll die.¡± Well, shit. My mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again. Yeah, I had nothing. This wasn¡¯t some low-level bandit NPC I could talk in circles. This guy was dangerous. I was already regretting my life choices when he suddenly pulled something out of his coat¡ªa small, black-wrapped package. ¡°Take it.¡± I didn¡¯t move. ¡°And if I don¡¯t?¡± He tilted his head, studying me. Something shifted. The world around me dimmed. The background noise¡ªplayers talking, merchants shouting¡ªvanished. And suddenly, I felt it. Something very, very bad was staring at me through this guy¡¯s eyes. ¡°Then I¡¯ll just have to find another courier¡­¡± he said softly. ¡°And a good place to leave your corpse¡± Ah. Okay. Yup. I¡¯ll take the package. I snatched it out of his hand way too fast, then cleared my throat like I had meant to do that casually. ¡°Smart choice,¡± he said. I stared at the package. It was light. But something about it felt¡­ wrong. Like it had mass that wasn¡¯t physical. A weird, heavy presence in my hands. ¡°Where am I taking this?¡± I asked. ¡°Lord Mortreign¡¯s estate. The noble district.¡± Figures. Rich people. ¡°And what exactly am I delivering?¡± His grin didn¡¯t falter. ¡°No questions. No mistakes.¡± Classic shady quest logic. He took a step back, then paused. ¡°If they ask you anything,¡± he said, voice casual, ¡°say just one word. Excidium. Then leave.¡± I frowned. ¡°What does that mean?¡± His grin widened. ¡°Not your concern. Just don¡¯t forget it.¡± Before I could ask anything else, he vanished. Not walked away. Not used a teleport spell. Just. Disappeared. Like the world had briefly glitched, and he was never there to begin with. I exhaled. ¡°¡­Great. Love that for me.¡± The noble district was a whole different beast. The moment I stepped past the checkpoint, it was like I had entered another world.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Gone were the grimy streets and desperate merchants of the common districts. Here, everything reeked of wealth. Not just wealth¡ªobscene, over-the-top, ¡®we eat gold flakes for breakfast¡¯ kind of wealth. The cobblestone streets were pristine, polished to the point that I could probably see my reflection if I squinted hard enough. The buildings weren¡¯t just big¡ªthey were massive gothic estates, complete with towering iron gates, carved statues, and more unnecessary decorative arches than any sane architect would ever approve. Everything was unnecessarily grand. Even the street lamps looked like they were forged out of pure silver. The people? Even worse. The NPCs in the lower districts had at least felt somewhat grounded¡ªmerchants haggling, laborers moving crates, kids running around. Here? It was like walking through a museum full of snobby aristocrats who occasionally blinked. Men in crisp, embroidered coats strolled past without sparing a glance. Women in extravagant dresses¡ªdraped in jewelry that probably cost more than my entire existence¡ªsipped wine on balconies like they were attending some eternal opera. They walked like they had never been late for anything in their lives. And the best part? They ignored me. No sneers. No disgusted looks. Nothing. It wasn¡¯t even that they disapproved of me being here. It was worse. I simply didn¡¯t exist in their world. I spotted two other players as I walked¡ªone leaning against a fountain, another speaking to a noblewoman. The first guy looked like he belonged here. Level 17, decked out in sleek, custom-tailored armor that actually looked expensive. He had that ¡®I grind dungeons for profit¡¯ kind of swagger. The second guy? Not so much. Level 13, wearing mismatched gear¡ªlike he had looted half his outfit from a clearance bin. He was gesturing wildly while talking to the noblewoman. She took one look at him, sniffed, then turned on her heel and walked away without a word. The guy just stood there, shoulders slumping. Oof. So, yeah. If the slums treated players like disposable garbage, the noble district treated them like air. I exhaled. Whatever. Not my problem. I had a delivery to make. As I kept walking, I finally spotted my destination¡ªa sprawling, gothic mansion looming in the distance. High, black-iron gates. Silver torches burning with blue flames. The kind of place where every window probably had someone watching from behind the curtains. Alright. Let¡¯s get this over with. I stepped forward. And the moment I did, the guards at the gate immediately turned their heads toward me. Oh. Right. This was probably not going to be easy. One of them, a tall guy with a ridiculously polished breastplate, stepped forward and raised a hand. ¡°State your business.¡± I held up the package. ¡°Delivery.¡± The guy didn¡¯t even glance at it. His eyes remained locked onto me, cold and unreadable. ¡°Who sent you?¡± Great. A security check. I considered my options. Yeah. That seemed like the best bet. I cleared my throat. ¡°Excidium.¡± The reaction was instant. The other guard, who had been leaning against the gate looking bored, immediately stiffened. The first one, the polished breastplate guy, narrowed his eyes slightly. For the first time since I arrived, I had their full attention. And it wasn¡¯t friendly. ¡°Wait here,¡± the first guard said, his voice sharper now. So, I stood there. Awkward. The second guard hadn¡¯t moved an inch, but his eyes were locked onto me like he expected me to do something incredibly stupid at any second. And honestly? Fair. That was usually how things went. I exhaled and shifted my weight, glancing down at myself. Yeah. I looked like absolute shit. My clothes were still torn and stained from my little bonding session with the local wolf population. The bite on my arm? Gone. No wound, no pain, just slightly sore skin where I knew I had been bleeding before. That was¡­ actually kind of cool. I hadn¡¯t paid much attention at the time, but now that I thought about it, my injuries had closed up on their own after a while. No potions. No healing items. Just passive regeneration. Which was great and all¡ªexcept for the part where the blood hadn¡¯t magically disappeared. I sighed and glanced at the sky. How much time had passed since I logged in? Hours? A full day? And more importantly¡­ what about Eric? Had he logged in yet? Was he stuck in Shadow Land like me, or did he start somewhere else? For all I knew, he was already off in some other city, getting screwed over by his own garbage tutorial NPC. Or maybe he had just logged out before things got weird. Lucky bastard. I flexed my fingers, feeling the weight of the package still in my grip. For now, I had bigger problems. Like not getting murdered for delivering whatever the hell was in this thing. I exhaled and turned my focus back to the massive gate ahead. A loud ehm snapped me out of my thoughts. I glanced over. The guard who had been staring at me earlier jerked his head toward the gate. Right on cue, the heavy iron doors groaned open. Oh. Guess I was allowed in now. I stepped forward, my boots hitting the pristine stone path leading straight to the mansion¡¯s front entrance. The place was massive¡ªeasily bigger than anything else I¡¯d seen in this city. I barely made it halfway up the path before those giant doors swung open on their own. And out walked a woman straight out of someone¡¯s very specific power fantasy. Tall. Blonde. Legs for days. Skirt just barely staying on the right side of professional. The kind of hot that made me briefly forget I was here on shady business. She stopped in front of me, crossing her arms. ¡°Courier?¡± I blinked. ¡°Uh. Yeah.¡± She smiled. ¡°Thought so. You don¡¯t exactly blend in.¡± Her eyes dipped to my shirt. ¡°Rough day?¡± I glanced down. Right. Still covered in dried wolf blood. ¡°Eh,¡± I said. ¡°Could¡¯ve been worse.¡± She let out a soft laugh, then turned on her heel. ¡°Follow me.¡± And just like that, she was off. I kept pace, taking in the hall as we moved. Surprisingly quiet. No maids. No guests. Just long, empty corridors and walls lined with expensive-looking paintings that probably cost more than my net worth. I debated making conversation. Something casual. Maybe ask her what was actually in the package I was carrying. But before I could, we stopped. She pushed open another set of massive doors without knocking. And sitting at the desk inside? A player. Not an NPC. Not some stuck-up noble. A full-blown, glowing-name-above-his-head, way-higher-level-than-me player. Lord Mortreign ¨C Level 72. My brain short-circuited for a second. Oh. Oh, shit. Mortreign looked up from whatever he was working on, expression calm. ¡°Ah. The courier arrives.¡± And that¡¯s when it really hit me. This wasn¡¯t just some noble¡¯s house. I had just walked straight into a high-level player¡¯s domain.