The obelisk had three faces, and its height was almost twice that of a normal human. I knew I needed to start reading it without wasting any time.
"You failed to appreciate the opportunity presented to you, now you shall suffer your punishment in the lands of Hell!"
There was only a single sentence written on the side I started reading. It was clear and direct; as sinners, we had been reunited with our eternal home. I was rooted to the spot. I remembered seeing the consequences of all my actions once again, but nothing was clear in my mind. I felt like screaming, "I'm not a bad person!" from the inside.
'Don't let yourself go,' that was my motto. No matter what happened, I had to cope, adapt to the new situation, and survive. I started taking small steps to glance at the remaining two sides, starting with the one on my left.
Covering a distance of ten steps took me about five minutes. Because everyone who could manage to stand up was here, I could barely make my way through the pushing and shoving.
"The Creator forgives His servants and will surely reward those who do good deeds!"
Whoa! After what I had just read, this facade, which also featured only a single sentence, delivered news that planted a seed of hope inside me. Wasn't this a rather coincidental sequence? Had I, by sheer luck, chosen two consecutive faces?
Finding out was very simple; all I had to do was lightly touch the shoulder of the burly man standing next to me and ask.
"Wrestler, what does it say here?"
The man, well past his middle age and completely bald on a head that looked a bit too small for his body, had the name Wrestler written above him.
"You failed to appreciate the opportunity presented to you, now you shall suffer your punishment in the lands of Hell!"
I barely caught the words coming out of his lips as a whisper before they mixed into the air. The man answering my question had recited exactly what was written on the part I looked at first.
He didn't say another word. Judging by the color draining from his face and his stiffening movements, he was experiencing the exact same shock I had just gone through. The interesting part was, while I saw a different text, why had he read the sentence that was supposed to be on the other side?
There could be only one explanation for this: no matter from which angle you looked at this obelisk, you had to progress in a predetermined order. I had no intention of disrupting this inevitable system, so with calm and slow steps, I walked toward the final remaining face.
Rushing was futile. I advanced through the crowd, examining my surroundings with empty eyes. Those moments, when I had no idea about the surprise waiting for me, were perhaps going to be the most carefree moments I would spend here.
"The First Layer of Hell!"
Those three massive words at the top were shining fiercely even in the daylight sun, thanks to their bright red letters. They left me with the impression that they would swallow me whole if I zoned out for even a second. When I slid my eyes down a bit to escape the pressure building on me, I saw a ten-item list waiting for me.
"The concept of time within The First Layer of Hell will be identical to the world you died in!"
"From the moment you step outside this safe zone, you must kill Fallen equal to your level every day!"
"In the event of failure, you will be sentenced to an eight-hour Torment of Hell penalty!"
"All answers lie within the Fallen outside the safe zones, go and face your mistakes!"
There was almost nothing that wasn't explained. These were the laws of the area we were in, and what would happen to us if we didn't comply was stated very clearly. I could tell from the changing facial expressions of those reading the same things alongside me. It wasn't clear when we had arrived here, and we would only gain access to all the other information once we killed our first mob.
Even though I wasn't a hardcore MMORPG player, I was familiar with the basics. If this was a beginner village, there had to be plenty of weak creatures nearby. All I had to do was step outside the shield enclosing the entire area and attack the first thing that caught my eye. But the moment a certain thought hit me halfway there, I threw that idea right in the trash.
Usually, the starting village was built in areas devoid of both rival players and aggressive creatures. If that were the case here, what was the point of this shield? On top of that, where we were wasn't a virtual platform a company built to entertain people for profit; it was The First Layer of Hell, where we were sent to be punished for the crap we pulled.
Even if I didn't know how much time I had left to avoid the daily penalty, I needed to take my time. Even for a short while, I could stop and let others make the first attempt. Speeding up again, I walked right up to the edge of the shield and calmly sat down. My intention was to put on the act of someone who hadn't fully regained control of their body yet, and just observe the movements of the others.
No one from my area had stepped outside yet, and there was absolutely no movement beyond the ice-blue barrier. If I didn't know where I was, I might have wanted to grab a book and a coffee and enjoy the silence.
Just then, the shape of a dust cloud kicked up by a crowd rushing in at full speed, resembling the playfully twirling skirts of a Flamenco dancer, signaled that things were going to get chaotic around here very soon.
The people didn't stop; they burst out of the shield in a state of fear and panic. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry at this situation. Not even a day ago, these people were in "couldn't give a rat's ass" mode in the face of the threat of eternal Hell. Now, the moment they heard about a daily eight-hour torment, they were charging into the unknown like amok runners.
When almost half of their total number had stepped outside, shadows began to materialize out of nothingness in places that were previously desolate voids. A moment later, the silhouettes that took shape were scattered across the entire plain, starting right where the shield ended.
They had appeared at distances not too far from each other, and their total number was currently several times higher than the people outside the shield. There was no need to wait anymore. I jumped up and went right to the edge of the ice-blue curtain of light to examine what was happening up close.
My first impression wouldn't come from my eyes—one of my five senses—but rather from my nose, which didn't even have a great sense of smell. A pungent odor of alcohol wafted in from the heart of anise fields. It was as if the warm breeze licked my face, like the slow, warning slap a teacher delivers to the cheek after a minor mistake.
Only after shaking my head could I come to my senses. No matter what, I had to keep my eyes peeled and watch; an eight-hour Torment of Hell was on the line.
I focused my attention carefully on these variable creatures that had just joined us. I was expecting freakish entities with horns, tails, and bloody weapons in their hands. The obelisk said this was The First Layer of Hell. Wouldn't expecting anything less after reading that be wildly optimistic?
While all my thoughts had sketched out the possible shapes of the mobs I was about to see in my brain, the weirdest and most tragicomic thing possible happened. I don't need to explain this at length; just telling you the names written above the creatures would suffice.
"Tipsy lvl 1"
"Drunk lvl 1"
"Wasted lvl 1"
At first, I had interpreted the smell of alcohol hitting my nose as a reminder of the final sin I committed that caused me to fall here, but right now, the truth of the matter was blatantly clear in front of my eyes.
A group of red-nosed, disheveled people trying to walk while swaying left and right had filled the entire area, holding various types of alcohol in their hands. There were all kinds of models outside the ice-blue shield, male and female alike, parading around in a manner befitting the titles hovering above their heads.
"Young friend, wouldn't you like to join us? We have a piece of bread and a bottle of wine that we would take pleasure in sharing with everyone!"
While continuing my observations, I was startled by a voice coming from my right, not too far away. Three people were sitting on the ground, calling out to one of the guys from the group that had just rushed outside the shield. This person, turning his head toward the source of the voice with a bewildered look, really seemed quite green; clearly, he was only fifteen or sixteen years old before he died.
Even if my words sound condescending, my real concern was for the mobs sitting on the ground with severely overgrown stubble. It was highly probable that this overgrown teenager of the new generation had online gaming experience.
I would soon realize how accurate this thought was. The oversized teen charged at the mobs with "Tipsy lvl 1" written above their heads, screaming an attack cry. We obviously shared the same thoughts: this was the starting village, and the only purpose of the creatures around us could be to serve as sacrifices for us to get stronger.
In these moments, there was no sign of panic from the Tipsy mobs. Even if their levels were low, they were calmly looking at the human running toward them through slightly narrowed eyelids.