Sounds of button mashing echoed through the empty room.
Sharp, frantic clacks filled the silence.
"John, what the fuck are you hitting, the wall?" a voice snapped through the headset. "The boss is bigger than your mom, and you're still missing."
A greasy-faced guy leaned into view of the camera, his face filling most of the screen.
"Hah. Says the one still living with his mom at thirty," came the reply through the mic.
Soon, the boss music kicked in.
"Alright, don't sell this run," someone muttered.
The boss slowly stepped into frame.
And behind it, something else appeared.
A young black-haired man, jumping up and down, waving his hands. A crown of antlers rose behind his head, branching like something regal and out of place.
"The hell is that?" John muttered.
On screen, the figure kept trying to get attention.
"Is that… a tutorial?" John scoffed.
A tutorial? Now?
After all the bosses he cleared on the first try?
He felt insulted.
Ignoring the frantic character on the screen, he pushed forward into the fight with his friends.
"If it were important, one of them would've said something," he muttered, skipping past the moment.
Fifteen minutes later.
"Fuck you guys, what do you mean by the last phase? How am I supposed to know that was going to happen?" John yelled into the mic. "I haven't lost to a single boss unless I'm running with you idiots."
"You still goon to the support character, bro. Relax."
…
"Fuck this game."
He ripped the controller from the console and hurled it into the wall.
The music kept playing.
Still running.
Still active.
"Fuck!"
In a sudden burst of anger, he grabbed the console and slammed it onto the floor.
Silence.
…
Maybe that was a bad idea.
"Does it still work?" he muttered, plugging it back in.
Nothing.
A tired sigh filled the room as he bent down to clean up the mess.
Meanwhile…
"The Hero has perished!"
Cries spread across the continent.
The leader of the brigade. Slayer of countless Hail. Dead.
And in the middle of it all stood the same antler-crowned young man from before, sweat dripping down his face.
I guess that's what you get for trying to interact with the player.
He looked around slowly.
Humans.
Beasts.
Friends.
Family.
All of them froze in panic.
All of them, doomed.
Because someone quit the game.
His thoughts drifted back to a month ago.
To the moment he first arrived here.
—
"Wake up, private!" A muscular man's voice exploded beside him.
Lying in the mud, slowly, the young man's eyes focused into life.
Where?
A sudden strike drove into his sternum.
Pain burst through his chest, stealing the air from his lungs.
"Who falls after one hit?" the drill sergeant roared. Veins bulged along his neck. "With filth like this plaguing humanity, who's supposed to carry our mantle?"
Memories poured into the mind of the frail young man, remembering why he was here.
He glanced around at the scattered swords around him. The scent of blood and metal clung to the air.
In the sky, two small suns beamed light onto the surroundings.
This…
He quickly glanced at the sigil on his chest.
Sigh
There was no mistaking it, he was inside the one game he could never beat. As a mere foot soldier no less.
"All right, shrimps," the drill sergeant barked. "Since not one of you could survive a single strike, nobody eats tonight."The recruits around him stiffened, dread settling into their faces.
"Alan!" A young blonde boy glanced over to the collapsed boy, his eyes pacing the floor as if unsure what to say.
He quickly grabbed his arm, pulling him up to his level.
"I'm sorry I didn't jump in to help you. That man is just too scary. Why did you even pick a fight with him in the first place?"
His words pulled Alan into the memories of the young man he had become. An orphan from a small village on the outskirts of a world dragon's nest.
What a ridiculous kid.
"It won't happen again. I learned my lesson the hard way." Alan pointed to his gut, a large black bruise forming under his shirt.
Bryce, the name of the young boy carrying him. A follower of Alan, even venturing into the military for this lousy sack.
What does this kid even see in him?
As they slowly made their way to the barracks, the echoes of shoes screeched against epoxy flooring.
Four young kids could be seen playing basketball to the side, their pale skin contrasted against the gray sky.
Beyond the walls, thick pillars of smoke climbed into the air from the nearby factories.
An era where the Industrial Revolution happens in tandem with magic.
Where dragons soared, and guns whistled across the battlefield.
Why me?
He didn't have the talent to first try every boss, the talent to soar above his peers, he was average in every way.
As the two arrived at the bunks, Alan pushed off his friend, vying to lie down and collect his mind for the future.
As he sat down, a small box appeared in front of him.
[Congratulations Host!]
[You Have Officially Awakened!]
Alan's eyebrows twitched at the very excited system panel and pretended to ignore it.
[HOST]
Alan, turning to the side, was jumpscared by a window box right in front of him.
Tch
Alan subtly clicked on the stupid box in the air.
[Welcome Host to the Investment System!]
[Any Deed that leads to the resolution of the story, good or bad, will provide you with points to empower yourself!]
As Alan's eyes scanned the ever-expanding text in front of him, his arched brows slowly started to widen.
A Golden Spoon
Not just a golden spoon, but a practical one.
If you help with knowledge, the system would provide a knowledge-based power-up, whether it be a bloodline meant for memory, more intellect, or just a special skill tied to memory.
If it was help involving killing or strength, you were rewarded as such.
This sounds too good to be true…
Suddenly, fine print slowly appeared at the bottom of the text.
[Notice: The power-ups granted will be taken away the longer the host doesn't interact with the main story]
That doesn't sound that ba-
He didn't finish that thought.
[When choosing a side of the story to be on, if any actions lead to unforeseen consequences against your side, the points and skills provided will be taxed against you]
Hmm, basically, this system wants resolution as clean and quick as possible.
A true investment, if you put all your money in the wrong stock, it could all disappear…
Alan's eyes wandered the screen in front of him, making sure he took in all the info.
It was hard to say if this was a true golden spoon for him, if some unforeseen variable messes up his plans, he was plain and short, cooked.
A thunderous roar suddenly shook the building Alan was in, causing tremors to coil up his spine.
Out the window, a massive beast took to the sky, an envoy of people riding its back in a small command post-type building.
Along the wings of the dragon sat a small sigil, the crest of the current king of the human empire.
So it's starting…
In the game, the opening cutscene consisted of this exact shot, followed by the main character diving off the dragon into the tutorial mission.
I wonder if he's solo…
That question was soon answered as he saw a small figure leap off the dragon, glowing like a small sun.
Alan's expression darkened. Solo players like himself either didn't know what they were getting into or were on a second playthrough and wanted to play solo.
I don't even know if this is in the game or if it's just the same story.
As the messages finally stopped rolling in, he took note of the interface in front of him. It was very intuitive.
-Alan Bone-
-Bloodline: ???-
-Mindset: Confused-
-Power: Foot Soldier-
-Points: 10-
-Shop: Random Grey Talent [4 pts], Helpful info [15 pts], Random Item [15 pts], Random Artifact [20 pts], Talent Boost [50 pts], Random Blue Talent [50 pts], Bloodline Boost [100 pts], etc.-
He sat up as the basic information settled into his mind.
With ten points, he could afford two low-tier talents. That alone might be enough to keep him alive.
He had exactly one week of foot training before his first assignment.
With the right talents, he might at least catch the eye of someone higher up.
His gaze lingered on the entry for Bloodline Boost.
He had no idea what kind of bloodline he carried. Alan had no family to trace back to, and his darker hair was usually tied to weaker beasts.
Let's hope I can at least awaken a Blue beast…
Standing up, Alan quickly changed out of his dirty training clothes, hoping that the bathroom was relatively empty so he could shower in peace.
As the day went on, news spread that the hero had bested his first challenge out in the field, sparking hope in the hearts of many around the facility.
The hero was the chosen one, carrying the blood of the Golden Phoenix.
A rare mutation of the legendary red-tier bird that's said to bring about an age of peace.
---
Evening arrived at the training camp. Clusters of people drifted toward the mess hall.
Alan and Bryce moved with the crowd, slowly pushing their way forward to order food.
Two talents…
The thought stayed in the back of Alan's mind as he made his way through the mass of bodies.
Eventually, they reached the front.
A wide line of stalls stretched across the room, offering more food than he expected.
Among the stalls, Alan recognized a name from the game, his favorite save point.
{ Bear-Fish Noodles }
The sign flickered in and out of existence, as if the owner forgot to pay the bill for the light.
Alan walked over with Bryce in tow.
"This place is probably the best shop here," Alan said with quiet confidence.
Bryce's eyes lit up.
"Bear-Fish? You mean the legendary fish that even dragon knights can't catch?" Bryce spoke in amazement as he eyed the interior of the shop.
You can only open one of these shops if you hunt a Bear-Fish yourself, those elusive, stupid fish…
Alan remembered the game. He'd spent hours trying to catch one for an achievement. Never managed it.
An old man stepped up from the back, his one eye glossed over with a giant scar running from his eyebrow to his lip.
With a glance, he noticed that we were the only two people who had come.
He analysed the two boys, one with mediocre talent, one with decent. He pressed his hand down on the counter, exerting enough pressure in the area to scare everyone off subtly.
"Welcome to Bear-Fish Ramen," he said in a rough voice. "Despite the name, we don't serve bear-fish. Any other fish will do."
"Two bowls of striped tiger-salmon ramen," Alan spoke, quickly shaking off the cold feeling pressing on his back.
Bryce was still frozen from fear, clearly too scared to even speak.
The man re-evaluated what he saw, a young boy who lacks talent but has balls, and one with the opposite.
Also… Who orders striped tiger salmon? Not a lot of people know about that fish…
He quickly departed back to the kitchen, making sure he had enough for two bowls.
"Give me a minute or two while I make the broth." He spoke with the gait of a master ramen chef.
Alan's lips tingled as the scent of fish boiling in water filled the air.
Even in the game, this place had the best food. The salmon always came out perfect. The noodles always wound just right.
Alan took this moment to glance back at the system panel trailing behind him in his vision.
Buy two random talents.
With a thought, the interface shifted. A large wheel formed in front of him.
With a flick in his mind, the wheel started spinning until it landed on the symbol of a sword.
[Ding! Host has gained a grey-tiered sword Talent! Would you like to apply it now?]
No.
Another wheel appeared. This one is edged with different colors instead of plain gray.
The wheel spun again, this time landing on the symbol of an eyeball.
[Ding! Host has gained a grey-tiered Instinct Talent! Would you like to apply it now?]
Sigh.
Two talents… feels like a waste.
He had no idea how powerful the talents were, but it left a bad aftertaste to say goodbye to 8 points like that.
"Two Striped Tiger-Salmon Bowls," the old man returned with two steaming bowls of soup. "Please let me know how it is, it's one of the first of its kind."
Ah.
Alan's eyes widened at the sight of the bowl in front of him.
It's just like the game.
He quickly peeled a piece of the meat away from the main chunk, wrapping noodles around it and allowing it to cool off away from the broth.
The old man watched him closely, as if trying to see through something.
Alan noticed the stare but ignored it.
Not many people knew about this fish. It was almost as rare as bear-fish.
I don't have anything to hide. I just like fish.
The old man frowned slightly.
This was new.
He prided himself on being able to read people at a glance, but this boy was the first young one who gave him nothing.
"Old man," Bryce spoke up, clearly enjoying the meal. "This is the best fish I've ever tasted! What kind of fish is striped tiger-salmon?"
The old man glanced over at him. The boy looked completely different from the one frozen in fear earlier.
"It's a rare species," he said. "Lives along the northern border between the Dragon Spire Mountains and Leviathan's Belly."
He explained the process of catching it and bringing it back to the barracks.
"Whoa." Bryce looked down at his nearly empty bowl, second-guessing how fast he'd eaten it.
"It was good. Miso would complement it," Alan said flatly. He already knew the process.
The old man nodded and went to see the boys off. "The first meal of the barracks is always free. Consider yourself lucky I'm not charging you for using that fish.
Alan nodded and began to leave, feeling the effects of the fish in his pores.
There was a reason he ordered the fish, not just because it was delicious, but because it removed certain impurities upon eating.
It cleared basic issues like unseen diseases and allowed one to have an easier time awakening their bloodline.
As they left, Alan shot the stall one last glance.
That old man felt familiar…
He couldn't place it, but he felt important.
As the red sun set into the horizon, the idea that this might be a dream finally faded.
He arrived at the bunk, now full of all the members of his training squad.
The four members all glanced his way, but Alan paid them no mind.
He glanced at the clothes from earlier, the mud on them was dry and crusty.
Might as well clean them.
As he wandered the halls for the washroom, he focused back on his talents.
-Mindset: Inquisitive-
-Power: Average foot soldier-
-Points: 2-
-[New!]Talents: [Grey] Swordplay (not applied), [Grey] Instincts (not applied)
Apply Swordplay Talent.
Upon his command, the system blinked, and suddenly, he found himself floating amidst a pool of black water.
[Welcome Host, to the talent acquisition realm!]
Around Alan, A massive sword sat, its form slowly pulsing with an ethereal turquoise light.
What-
Before he could express his thoughts, a wave of energy rushed past him, pushing him further away from the sword.
As he was pushed away, he felt incredible loss. Just that one glance felt like he had evolved his understanding of the sword.
I see…
This was insight personified.
He focused his mind on the blade now floating in the distance. He imagined countless swings with the sword.
That one wasn't straight enough.
Too much pressure.
Stabilize your wrist.
He started mimicking the movement.
Swing.
He started to finally understand something.
Slowly, the water pressure built up around him.
His swings were getting heavier.
Just as it felt like too much, the system broke his focus.
[Congrats Host!]
[You've understood the basics of swinging a sword!]
[Talent Registered: [Grey] Sword Swing Talent]
As Alan was pulled out of the dark liquid, his mind was still focused on the sword.
He glanced around at his surroundings, the same as when he left.
Time-stopping training grounds, if I can use them to train other things, will the pressure take longer to arrive?
His mind went into overdrive as he thought about all the possibilities this system gave him.
As he finished washing his clothes, he felt like swinging a sword.
Tomorrow.