"Wait! I can explain!" Shinji's desperate, raw plea was immediately swallowed by the angry murmurs of the crowd.
Two city guards in polished steel armor had a vice-like grip on his arms, their hands so tight they left a searing, painful mark on his skin as they dragged him through the stunned onlookers in the park. His naked body was a stark, humiliating contrast to their imposing figures.
"Let me go! Let me go!" he struggled, his face a deep crimson, a mix of shame and a helpless rage that burned in his gut. One of the guards snorted, a low, calm sound with a dangerous edge.
"Later, kid. In prison," he said, as if this were a common, tiresome chore.
A middle-aged man from the crowd pointed a fat finger at Shinji. "Look at that, kids! That's what happens when you gamble too much! You fall from the sky without a single thread on you!"
Damn it, he thinks I'm a gambler?! I'm a 'hero' from the hardest game on Earth! Shinji's mind screamed. He wanted to object, to scream the truth, but the words felt useless, lost in the sea of hostility and mockery.
...
He was shoved into a cold, damp cell. The air was thick with the pungent smell of mold and filth, like a forgotten dungeon in a horror game. The stone floor leeched the last of his body heat, making him shiver uncontrollably as he huddled in a corner, hugging his knees to his chest.
Seriously, they didn't even give me a starter item like clothes! How am I supposed to grind for levels like this?
"This isn't a dream," he mumbled, his teeth chattering. "I really did transfer worlds. Now I'm in prison. And... I'm naked."
A few moments later, the heavy iron door of his cell groaned open. The head guard, a man with a gray beard and a thick cloak, walked in. His voice was dripping with skepticism. "So, kid, you say you fell from the sky?"
Shinji scrambled to his feet. "Yes! It's true! I'm a hero! I defeated the Demon King!" He looked into the guard's eyes, trying to make his claim sound as convincing as possible.
The head guard let out a long, weary sigh. "Listen, kid. I've heard that story a hundred times. If you're a hero, where's your sword?"
Shinji pointed to the wooden sword in the corner of the cell. "There! It's called the World Destroyer Wooden Sword!"
...
With a low chuckle, the head guard picked up the sword. The moment his hand touched the hilt, a small flash erupted from the wood, and a rotted water barrel in the corner of the cell splintered, splashing water onto his face.
The head guard froze, silent for a long moment, a hint of shock in his eyes. "That sword..." he whispered, a hint of genuine doubt in his voice before he quickly regained his composure.
A smug grin stretched across Shinji's face. Ha! This is the power of the World Destroyer Wooden Sword! What do you have to say now, low-level NPC?! "See! I'm not lying!"
Suddenly, a loud, hoarse laugh erupted from his chest, sounding like grinding stones. "Hahaha! You think I believe that?! That barrel was already rotten, kid! You just got lucky! Your wooden sword has no power. It's just a regular piece of wood!"
Shinji's grin vanished, replaced by a scowl. His hands clenched into tight fists at his sides, his knuckles turning white.
He stood frozen, staring at the wooden sword on the floor. A storm of fury brewed inside him, a hot, seething rage far more potent than the shame he'd felt before.
The one piece of evidence from his old life had been mocked and dismissed.
...
Left alone again, he could only hug his knees, the cold and rage making him tremble. They'll all regret this, he thought, his jaw clenched. I'm not crazy. I'm a hero from the hardest game on Earth! You'll find out who I really am!
Night fell, blanketing the prison in a heavy darkness. This was the opening Shinji had been waiting for.
Okay, Shinji, calm down. You've faced harder monsters. This is... just a low-level stealth mission, he mumbled to himself, trying to steady his pounding heart.
He surveyed his cell, his eyes scanning for anything useful. In a corner, among some stale leftover food, lay a hairpin.
Jackpot! Shinji's lips curled into a thin, determined smile. Every gamer knows a hairpin is the most versatile tool.
He picked up the hairpin, feeling the familiar sensation of a 'lockpick'. He knelt in front of the rusted iron lock, his hands moving with familiar dexterity, using techniques he'd learned from dozens of stealth and RPG games.
The 'Triple-Tap Spin' technique from the level 99 'Shadow Thief' game... success! he thought triumphantly.
Click!
...
The lock opened with a soft sound. A shaky breath of relief escaped Shinji's lips. See! This isn't luck, it's skill! This was the first concrete proof that his abilities as a gamer could actually be used in this world.
Holding his World Destroyer Wooden Sword in a firm grip, he crept out of the cell. The prison hallway was empty, shrouded in shadow. He managed to slip past two sleeping guards.
As he approached the main exit, another guard yawned loudly, rubbing his eyes. Shinji quickly ducked behind a pile of burlap sacks, his heart thumping against his ribs.
He held his breath, waiting for the guard to move on, then slipped past him and out into the bustling city streets.
He couldn't wander around naked. Shinji found an old burlap sack in a garbage can and pulled it on, tearing crude holes for his head and arms.
The musty smell and coarse, itchy texture were horrible, but it was far better than being unclothed.
...
His strange appearance a boy in a shabby sack with a wooden sword drew immediate attention. A mother pulled her child away, her eyes wide with disgust.
A fruit vendor laughed loudly, pointing his finger. Several others whispered and snickered behind their hands.
Avoiding their stares, Shinji lowered his head, quickening his pace. Every laugh and whisper felt like a whip, burning a fresh layer of shame onto his skin. Damn it, just you wait... Will I keep being humiliated in this world?! he thought, his jaw clenched.
After asking around, he finally found a large building with a flag bearing a sword and shield. In front of the gate was a sign that read, "Ardania City Adventurers' Guild."
Shinji hesitated. Maybe this is the place. At least they might be able to help me.
He stepped forward and opened the Guild's heavy wooden door. Immediately, all eyes turned to him. A large man with an axe strapped to his back stared at him with a smirk. "Kid... You think this is a playground? Welcome to hell," his hoarse voice echoed through the room.
...
Shinji's heart was pounding, his hands trembling as he gripped the hilt of his wooden sword.
Suddenly, his initial arrogance vanished, replaced by a cold fear creeping up his back. Don't panic. Stay calm... he thought, his voice cracking slightly.
A young magician in a purple robe covered her mouth to stifle a laugh, and a girl in leather armor shook her head with a look of pity.
A man at the reception desk, who had a fierce dragon tattoo on his arm, raised an eyebrow. "Can I help you, kid?" he asked with an amused smile.