Chapter 2: Loots
He had always been a regular young worker, without extraordinary skills or achievements.
His only passion was single-player RPGs the kind of games that didn't remind him of the gap between him and those with more money or talent. To avoid that reality, he often browsed gaming community websites.
While he enjoyed watching videos and reading strategy articles by experienced gamers, he was often drawn to illegal download links for pirated games.
He knew it was wrong, but his low income made it an easy sin to justify.
So, when he saw a post titled, "Rare Game DLC, Full Mod Package, First Come First Serve," clicking on it felt like a perfectly normal thing to do.
[New Era. A semi-open-world dark fantasy, rife with betrayal, corruption, rebellion, and conspiracy.]
The description piqued his interest, and the screenshots looked promising. The game was no longer sold due to the developer's issues, and the post was deleted just after he downloaded the link. Proud to be among the first, he immediately launched the game, planning to spend the entire weekend on it.
In New Era, players could choose from five classes:
Knight,
Barbarian,
Mage,
Scout,
and Acolyte.
The installation tip mentioned that in special situations, like boss fights, players could receive assistance from other user characters.
However, the server connection failed to work—likely because the game was a pirated copy or the server had been shut down for good.
He knew he had to tackle everything alone.
He chose the Mage, a ranged dealer and the most straightforward choice for beginners. The character's unique traits were Intuition and Concentration.
He set the difficulty to medium and went with the default appearance and a random name. His character, Zen Hope, was thus created.
...I should have looked up the strategy first. Zen sighed, though it was too late for regrets. Back then, he was too engrossed to even think of it.
New Era was a pretty impressive game overall. The graphics, while a bit outdated, had a unique atmosphere. The combat was engaging, based on a diverse skill tree.
As a semi-open world, players had to complete certain quests to move to the next area, but the game wasn't overly tedious thanks to a high level of freedom, subquests, and skippable cutscenes. He particularly liked the many choices that led to the dark, gloomy endings, fitting for a dark fantasy.
But the game was not easy. Items had no class restrictions but required certain stats to wear, often with random options. Compared to the extensive skill tree, skill points were scarce.
Boss fights and named mobs were especially challenging. He progressed through the game, selecting skills and attributes as needed.
The difficulty really ramped up in chapter four. Even regular monsters had become tough to handle, and a bit of level grinding made little difference.
He eventually searched for a strategy guide and found a detailed one by an experienced player. He read only what he needed, and slowly, the grim reality of his situation dawned on him.
The first issue was his unique traits.
Intuition and Concentration weren't very helpful for a character that fought from a distance. Elemental Affinity, Magical Bloodline, Insight, Parallel Thinking, or even Luck and Reflexes would have been more beneficial.
His character lagged behind other mages of the same level in terms of abilities, especially in Intelligence and Mental Fortitude.
This was a trade-off for investing more in Strength, Agility, and Stamina—necessary for solo encounters. To overcome these deficiencies, he had to rely on control and overwhelming firepower.
Skill allocation followed the same principle.
Spreading points thin was a waste, so he only learned the essential arcane and common skills. Skill points were precious, especially given his lack of magical power and financial resources.
This often meant confronting bosses with extreme resistances, which would ideally have been countered by item farming and resistance-reducing spells.
The most critical issue, however, was his quest choices.
He had missed or skipped too many essential side quests that provided extra stat and skill points. Worse, by deliberately choosing the worst options, he had caused too many key characters who should have been his allies to die or turn corrupt. In short, Zen Hope was a failed character with no apparent way to reverse it.
Fortunately, there was still time left before the weekend ended. He decided to start over, this time using a guide and choosing an easier profession. However, he faced a dilemma: there was only one character slot available, and opening another required a payment he couldn't afford. Reluctantly, he chose to delete his character.
That was when the error message appeared.
[Deletion has been denied.]
Denied, not just impossible? While he was stunned by this message, more pop-up windows followed.
[The ◆◇??s are watching you.]
[The ◆◇??s wishes for the end of the world.]
[The ◆◇??s....]
The last thing he remembered was the monitor flashing blindingly.
When he regained consciousness, he was lying in the middle of a strange swamp, with the tutorial quest screen from the game's beginning in front of him.
"...!" Startled by a noise, Zen's eyes snapped open. He instinctively grabbed the sword leaning against the bathtub and pointed it at the intruder.
"Ah...!" A muffled scream escaped her. The maid, carrying a bucket of water, lost her grip on it from surprise. The water splashed onto her legs, and hot steam rose.
"I, I was just going to change the water...." Her voice trembled as the blade hovered near her throat.
"...." Zen watched in silence as fear flickered in the maid's brown eyes.
Was it because he was reminiscing about something that had happened long ago? An age-old question bubbled up in his mind: was she truly a person, or just intricate graphics? This world had, after all, originated from a game.
"It seems I misunderstood," Zen said, putting away his sword.
"I'm sorry...."
The maid set down the bucket and collapsed in relief, visibly shaking, sweat beading on her forehead.
Zen, observing her, reached the same conclusion as before. Even if this was all fake, he couldn't think of it as anything but real. If fakes were this lifelike, there wasn't much of a difference.
"I'll empty the bathwater for you." She stood up, bending over the bathtub to release the plug.
Zen noticed her reddened legs, likely from the hot water.
"Sorry about earlier. It was instinct. I've been attacked often," Zen said awkwardly.
"It seems you've been through a lot," the maid said with an understanding smile.
Her voice was now calmer.
Zen shrugged, recalling the swamp where he had first awoken.
A place of sickness, refugees, fugitives, bandits, and cursed creatures. He had spent more than half a year in that tutorial area he once cleared in just ten minutes. That was enough time for him to accept and adapt to his situation. The game had transformed into Zen's reality; scenarios he had previously cleared were reset, and ironically, he had become more of a game character than ever before.
"I'll bring another bucket of water. ...And this time, please don't point your sword at me." The maid turned away with these words.
Zen remained silent, lost in his thoughts about the past. He recalled his transformation from a common man afraid of cockroaches to a ruthless mage who didn't hesitate to kill. If he hadn't kept his character's powers and skills, he would have probably died long ago.
He wondered why only his level and skills had stayed the same when everything else, like time and quests, had restarted. It seemed like someone had arranged it this way to keep him alive. It was a weird kind of help from whoever had brought him to this world.
'If only they had given me points instead.' His main problem was still the same.
Zen Hope was a failed character. Right now, he was strong enough to defeat the weak locals without equipment, but soon, he'd be helpless again.
He couldn't stay hidden in this small place forever. Time was moving on, and things would happen, maybe even more unexpectedly without him.
Staying in this land meant he couldn't escape what was coming. If he did nothing, he would surely die.
This world was bigger than the game, with more and stronger enemies, as well as new places, people, and monsters. The point of no return might come sooner than expected. Actually, he was certain of it. Maybe as early as the end of chapter two or mid-chapter three.
I am living on borrowed time, Zen thought, letting out a hollow laugh.
In the last year, he hadn't leveled up at all. He had only gained a little experience, mostly from completing quests. This was probably because the enemies he faced were too weak compared to him, like the Crobons or the vigilantes he had encountered earlier. Still, not everything was bad.
The story has reset.
He had another chance to complete quests that offered additional ability and skill points. He could also make different choices from those that had led to the worst outcomes.
Furthermore, the points he had previously earned hadn't disappeared.
Three points gained so far in chapter one... Not bad. While becoming the ultimate mage as per the guide was out of reach, there was still hope to reach a survivable level.
The best scenario would be to maintain his current advantage for as long as possible.
But life never goes as planned. He looked at his swollen ankle by the empty bathtub.
The problem was the ax thrown by the Crobon chief. His Whirling Barrier skill had made the ax miss him, but he had hurt his ankle in surprise. This was a new attack pattern.
"New patterns, huh..." Zen said, almost mockingly.
To think that after going through so much, he had become this complacent. He was lucky that the only price for such an important lesson was a sprained ankle. Thanks to his high stamina, he'd be better by tomorrow.
Creak—
The door opened slowly and very carefully.
"I'm not holding a sword," Zen called out. Hearing this, the maid hurried in, carrying buckets of steaming water. It seemed they intended to boil him alive.
"Sorry for the delay, hero." She bowed slightly.
"I'm a mercenary, not a hero," Zen said.
"But you saved our village," the maid replied.
Technically, she wasn't wrong. But this village was destined to burn eventually.
"Just pour the water. No more nonsense." Zen gestured dismissively. The maid picked up the first bucket she had brought.
"...Tell me if it's too hot," the maid said.
She began pouring the water slowly, sneaking glances at him while pretending to look away. On closer inspection, her cheeks were slightly flushed.
It was only then that he realized it.
'Ah, it's because I'm naked.'
He had adapted a bit too well to this dark age.
"Don't get any weird ideas," Zen said.
"Me? What do you mean?" The maid shivered, taken aback.
"Exactly what I said. Don't let your imagination run wild," Zen added calmly.
In this world, she might be considered an adult, but to him, the freckle-faced maid seemed too young. Maybe fifteen, sixteen at most? Feeling anything more than paternal affection toward such a young girl was a crime in itself.
"I... I didn't think about anything," the maid said.
She was a terrible liar. It made sense, though. Having seen only toothless drunks reeking of alcohol, a well-built body like his must be a novelty to her.
He looked down at his own body. Even though he was a mage, thanks to his Strength and Stamina stats, he had well-defined muscles. A six-pack, clear as chocolate bars, something he never had in reality.
His Intelligence and Mental Fortitude had also improved. He was faster and thought more multi-dimensionally than before. Even with his character's poor stat distribution, he was quite strong. If he had allocated his stats properly, he might have been like an enlightened sage.
"Hey, the water's going to overflow." Zen finally raised his hand.
The maid, who seemed ready to add another bucket of water, reluctantly stood up.
"Should I boil more water?" she hesitantly asked.
"The water's enough. Prepare some food. I'll leave in an hour," Zen said.
"And after that...?" the maid asked.
After that, what? Zen thought.
"Nothing. Leave," Zen firmly spoke.
His firm dismissal made the maid pout as she turned around, but she didn't forget to leave a defiant look in her eyes.
"Ha...."
As Zen chuckled, the rowdy voices of the drunks filled his ears again.
Perhaps it would've been better to ask the maid to keep talking instead of this noise.
Zen closed his eyes, and submerged up to his chin in the bathtub, activating his level three Meditation skill. Originally, this arcane skill was supposed to be capped at level one.
The next day, Zen led the innkeeper and a few village youths back to the Crobon stronghold, accompanied by a wagon.
"What a mess... Did you pour oil and set it on fire or something?" the innkeeper asked.
The stronghold still bore the scars of last night's devastation. Charred bodies and ashes, remnants of half-burnt fences and huts.
"How many are there? Were they planning to start a nation?"
"Anyway, the lord probably doesn't care. Too busy with war preparations."
"The lord and vigilante. Tch, spit. Thinking about it again, it feels refreshing. They got what they deserved, those bandits."
"Should've trampled on their corpses instead of just spitting on them."
The chatter of the village youths quieted down as Zen turned to look at them. Having witnessed the scene Zen had created, they looked at him with a mix of awe and fear.
"As I said, your job is simple," Zen continued in a calm tone
."Search every corner and gather anything useful."