I cleaned myself up as best as I could, but my clothes were still in rough shape. Washing them in the bathtub would mean waiting for them to dry, and without a spare set, that wasn't an option. So, I scrubbed out the worst of the dirt and slipped back into my school uniform, feeling at least a little more presentable. To my surprise, the soap they had was just as good as the shampoo I used back home.
As I was buttoning up, I heard a knock at the door. I hurriedly pulled on my pants and cracked the door open. It was Phoebe, standing there with a bundle of clothes in her hands.
"Here, wear these" she said, handing them over. "Your clothes are in bad shape."
"Oh—thank you, ma'am," I said, a bit taken aback by her kindness. "I really appreciate it."
She gave a small nod before heading back to the bar. I glanced down at the clothes she'd given me. I quickly stripped off my uniform and slipped into the new outfit. The tunic was long and dark, made of a durable fabric that reached down to my mid-thigh. The trousers were simple but well-made, brown, and snug at the waist, tapering neatly down to my ankles.
On my right shoulder, there was a piece of light armour—solid metal with a matte finish—that extended down my upper arm to my forearm. It was practical yet sleek, designed to offer protection while keeping flexibility. The gauntlet was reinforced but still allowed for a good grip, making sure my sword holding arm was safe… as if I'd swing a sword once. On my left shoulder rested a piece of brown light armour that provided some protection, from which a dark blue cape draped smoothly. I could let it hang down to conceal my entire left arm or rest it on my back, the thing wasn't hard to move with at all.
After adjusting the belts and checking that everything fit properly, which took more than ten minutes since I had no idea how these old clothes worked, I stepped out of the room and went to a small mirror at the end of the corridor. I stared at my reflection: my eyes were still half-open, and my face looked as forgettable as ever. It looked like I finally returned to my roots.
"Shit, Ax," I muttered to myself, shaking my head slightly. "You look ridiculous."
I made my way back to the counter, holding my school uniform in my hands, and caught Phoebe's eye. She was busy pouring a beer for a patron who looked far too drunk to know which way was up. He swayed in his seat, barely managing to keep himself upright.
Once she finished pouring, Phoebe turned her attention to me, giving my new outfit a quick once-over. "Looks good on you," she commented, a hint of a smile forming on her lips. "It was my son's old outfit."
"Thank you, ma'am," I said, feeling a bit awkward under her gaze. "Can I ask you something?"
"Go ahead," she replied, wiping her hands on her apron as she leaned on the counter.
"These, uh, the translucent boxes that appear... you know what I mean?" I fumbled, unsure of how to phrase it.
She gave me a puzzled look. "Translu—what now?"
"You know, the boxes," I said, my voice trailing off as I realised how strange it must sound. "You don't have that?"
A faint smile tugged at the corner of her lips, almost like she was trying to hold back laughter. "Kid," she said, shaking her head gently, "you need some rest, I think."
I nodded quickly, feeling my face heat up with embarrassment. "Yeah, you're probably right. Thanks again, ma'am. I'll be sure to repay your kindness someday."
"Heh, you better," she said, her tone light and teasing. "Your room's on this floor—opposite the door where you just cleaned up."
She ducked behind the counter and pulled out a small brass key, setting it on the counter with a soft clink. I reached for it, turning it between my fingers before slipping it into my pocket. My grip tightened on my muddied school uniform as I gave her a small nod.
"Thank you."
"No problem, kid," she replied with an easy shrug.
Turning on my heel, I retraced my steps down the dimly lit corridor. The wooden floor creaked beneath me, the faint scent of ale and burning firewood lingering in the air. As I reached my door, I hesitated for just a second. My fingers curled around the key in my pocket before I pulled it out and slid it into the lock.
The door creaked open slowly, and I found myself holding my breath—as if half expecting something to leap out at me from the shadows. Nothing did, of course. I was just getting paranoid…
The room was… simple. Barely furnished, just the essentials. A lone bed was pressed against the left wall, a chest sitting beside it. A small window on the right allowed a sliver of moonlight to seep in, casting a faint glow on a square wooden table beneath it. The table itself was worn, cracked along the edges, and a sturdy-looking chair sat tucked beneath it.
This is even worse than my room back home. And that was saying something.
I let out a small breath and stepped inside, shutting the door behind me with a soft click.
"Okay," I murmured, rubbing my temples. "Let's see what this translucent box actually is."
Laying my crumpled uniform on the table, I moved to sit at the edge of my bed. As if responding to my words, the translucent box blinked into existence before me.
╔════════════════════╗
- Level 1: Axel Millo
==========================
- HP: [██████████░] 89/100
- MP: [▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒] -1/0
- STA: [█████▒▒▒▒▒▒] 37/100
==========================
- Options: [Inv | Skills | Quests]
╚════════════════════╝
I squinted at the floating interface. This… looks familiar. Like something straight out of a game. My eyes narrowed at the MP bar.
Minus one mana? How the hell do I have negative magic? If spells required mana to cast, then I was officially useless in a world where magic was real—and where monsters actually existed.
Clicking my tongue, I reached forward and touched the 'Skills' option. Another window snapped open.
╔═════════════╗
- CLASS SELECTION
╚═════════════╝
- Choose your class:
===================
[1] Warrior: Strength & Defense
[2] Mage: Master of Magic
[3] Rogue: Stealth & Agility
[4] Healer: Restore & Protect
===================
- Options: [Inv | Skills | Quests]
╚════════════════════╝
My finger hovered over the list, hesitation settling in my gut. This was weird.
Choosing classes? I frowned, staring at the glowing screen. I needed to understand this thing. There had to be more to it than just this.
For now, I pressed the small 'X' in the corner, closing the window, then tapped back into my status screen.
╔════════════════════╗
- Level 1: Axel Millo
==========================
- HP: [██████████░] 100/100
- MP: [▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒] -1/0
- STA: [█████▒▒▒▒▒▒] 35/100
==========================
- Options: [Inv | Skills | Quests]
╚════════════════════╝
I had to choose a class—just like in the game James had shown me. Before I met him, I knew nothing about that sort of thing. I never had enough money to buy a console, let alone a computer. But after visiting his home once or twice a week, I started picking things up, watching him play, listening to his explanations.
'Feels like an important choice.' I tapped my fingers against my thigh, staring at the glowing menu. 'Better to sleep on it, think it through with a clear head.'