End of the Tutorial (1)
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I was born in South Korea in the 21st century.
A land where safety is guaranteed. A free democratic society without a caste system. A country of scientific technology that creates computers the size of a palm.
I’ve loved games since I was young.
Surely, that’s not a crime. At least, not one deserving of being thrown into a world filled with monsters, marked by caste systems, poverty, and murder.
My name is Dalen.
Well, it’s the name of my character, but now it’s mine too. Though, my real name isn’t Dalen.
My true name is…
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Knock, knock.
The sound of someone tapping on the wagon wall made Dalen look up.
A mercenary with a scruffy beard and a scar across his face peered inside. He spoke.
“Time to switch.”
Dalen nodded and began tidying up his pen and ink.
Inside the rattling wagon, he stood up naturally and checked his gear with practiced ease.
He tightened the straps of his armor, which he had loosened, and retied the laces of his boots.
After putting on his gloves, he ensured his shield on his back, the longsword at his left hip, and the axe tucked into his belt were all secure.
He folded the paper he had been writing on twice, slipped it into an envelope, and tied it with a thin string.
After a moment’s hesitation, he tucked the envelope deep inside his backpack along with his writing tools.
“Phew, it’s warm in here. The weather’s getting colder.”
Just then, the mercenary from earlier climbed into the wagon.
Unlike Dalen, he loosened his armor straps and plopped down among the scattered cargo.
Dalen placed his packed bag in a corner of the wagon and asked, “Anything happen?”
“Quiet as a mouse. Didn’t see a single goblin. Maybe because we’re within the patrol zone of the Labyrinth City. Even the bandits that used to pop up here and there in the southern regions are nowhere to be seen.”
The man took a swig from a leather water pouch.
“But it’s getting colder outside. It’s only natural with winter coming, but being from the warm southern regions, it’s hard to get used to.”
The wagon jolted again, causing some of the cargo to sway. Dalen maintained his balance with ease.
The mercenary choked on his water and spat it out.
Then, the shout of the caravan driver rang out.
“Hey! Falcion is in sight!”
Dalen let out a small sigh and stepped out of the wagon. He said, “I’ll go up. Take a rest.”
“Cough! Yeah, sure. Take care!”
Climbing onto the wagon roof, Dalen found two mercenaries sitting, keeping watch ahead and to the left. One of them greeted him.
“Good morning.”
Dalen nodded in acknowledgment and took a seat in the empty spot on the right. It was the spot previously occupied by the bearded mercenary he had just relieved.
Clip-clop. Rattle.
Three wagons bumped over a low hill. Eight open carts pulled by mules followed.
Workers trudged along, carrying their loads, while the mercenaries surrounded the caravan, providing protection.
The Galleos caravan, which Dalen was tasked with guarding this time, was quite large.
Judging by the volume of goods they were transporting and the fact that they had hired twenty bronze-tier and four silver-tier mercenaries for a single trip, it was clear they were well-off.
And like any sensible caravan, they were taking the relatively safe main road toward the city.
Their destination, the city visible in the distance, was their goal for this journey.
‘The Labyrinth City, Falcion.’
Dalen gazed at the towering city walls in the distance and thought.
Falcion was one of the most prosperous cities on this fantasy medieval continent, located right at its heart. Its reputation was illustrious.
The heart of the continent.
A city surrounded by seven walls.
A living hall of legends, filled with heroes and superhumans.
’…And the bastion of humanity, holding back the monsters rising from the labyrinth.’
The seven walls of the city, stacked one upon another, exuded an overwhelming majesty even from afar.
It was a scene more vivid and beautiful than any game illustration. The title of humanity’s bastion was well-deserved.
Dalen stared at it, lost in thought.
‘Finally, I’ve arrived.’
Two years.
After two years in this cursed game world, the city that marked the end of the tutorial was finally within reach.
‘Two years of tutorial.’
The arduous journey began in a remote mountain cabin, just like the opening scene of the game.
Two years ago, Dalen had found himself in that cabin with nothing but the clothes on his back, inhabiting the body of a character named Dalen.
Thankfully, he had maxed out his additional stats during character creation. Otherwise, that mountain cabin might have been both the start and end of his journey.
The remote mountain was home to wildcats, wolves, and even bears.
Fortunately, having played the game dozens of times, the early stages were familiar.
Relying on his extraordinary physical abilities, he managed to make his way down to a village, then to a larger town, and finally toward the city.
Just like in the tutorial, he did odd jobs as an unregistered mercenary until the guild issued him a bronze badge.
But reality was different from the game.
In the game, the tutorial ended once you received the bronze badge from the mercenary guild.
The goal was to adapt to the game system by doing a few odd jobs and engaging in a couple of battles.
Once that was done, you would arrive at the Labyrinth City and start the main storyline. But here, he had to handle every step of the process on his own.
‘I spent a year at the bottom.’
After receiving the bronze badge, he worked as a mercenary for about a year. Thanks to his inhumanly strong physical abilities, his performance was quite good, and he was able to earn a silver badge.
Then, six months ago, he used his savings to acquire proper armor and weapons and set off on his journey.
A journey to the Labyrinth City, Falcion, where the main storyline of the game began.
“Wow, it’s a magnificent sight even from afar.”
A balding mercenary spoke up.
“The woman I spent a few nights with last time was quite a sight in bed too. What was the name of that place?”
“I don’t care about brothels. I’m going to win back the money I lost last time. I’ve been saving a silver coin from each job for this. I’ll get back double what I lost.”
A gambling den, huh? That’s even more dangerous than a brothel.
Dalen’s journey, which began six months ago, was not as smooth as he had hoped.
The real danger wasn’t the monsters, but the people. People who gambled with cards and wooden chips instead of swords.
‘Damn it. In the game, gambling dens were easy places to make money.’
Dalen had nearly ended up in jail after cutting the wrist of a dealer in a gambling den in a mid-sized town. He only managed to escape by using all his remaining assets to bribe the village elders.
The Galleos caravan, which happened to be passing through the village, hired him when he was left penniless from gambling and bribery.
‘At least I made it here safely.’
On the wagon roof, with the gentle breeze blowing, Dalen let the mercenaries’ chatter wash over him as he fell into thought once more.
The Labyrinth City, Falcion, was a massive city with millions of inhabitants.
And at the same time, it was the only safe passage from the surface to the labyrinth below.
A unique path that allowed treasures from the labyrinth to be brought up without the threat of monster invasions.
‘And according to the game’s lore, there’s an invaluable treasure at the very bottom.’
A stone that grants wishes, sealed away in ancient times.
Obtaining it would lead to the game’s ending.
‘Though I’ve never managed to get it.’
The difficulty was infuriatingly high. He either died before reaching it or the world ended.
Now, he had no choice but to obtain it. If the wish-granting stone was real, it might send him back to Earth.
And if it wasn’t? Dalen shook his head.
It wasn’t wise to dismiss it as sour grapes before even trying.
Whether he obtained the wish stone or not, he had to descend into the labyrinth to grow stronger.
‘Status window.’
――――――――
Name: Dalen
Level: 4
[Strength: 22] [Dexterity: 11] [Stamina: 11]
[Senses: 13] [Intelligence: 18] [Magic: 8]
Skills: -
――――――――
The reason Dalen had survived in this world was simple.
The power of the status window, combined with the additional stats, made his body abnormally strong.
This body, already powerful, had grown even stronger over two years, leveling up three times. Now, goblins or orcs on the road were no longer a threat.
The labyrinth was home to foes stronger than goblins or orcs. Defeating stronger enemies would yield more experience points.
And leveling up with those experience points would grant his already superhuman body even greater power.
‘In this harsh world, you have to become that strong to survive.’
It wasn’t just an empty phrase.
This world was already harsh enough, but it would only get harsher.
The world was slowly heading toward destruction, a fact only Dalen, who had played the game, knew.
“Hey, man! You should join in this time! I heard you lost everything at the village gambling den. You need to recover!”
”…No, thanks.”
For now, he was a penniless mercenary who had to worry about tomorrow’s stew.
Before worrying about mystical stones or the end of the world, the first priority was making money.
“Everyone loses at the start! Then you win some back, that’s how it goes!”
“I’m really done with it.”
Of course, he had no intention of setting foot in a gambling den ever again.
By the time they reached Falcion, evening had already settled in.
After passing a brief inspection at the bronze city gates, the caravan settled accounts with the mercenaries at an inn next to the merchant guild.
“This is your share, Dalen. Fifteen shillings. The pouch is a bonus.”
Dalen accepted the pouch, the clinking of fifteen silver coins inside, and looked at the caravan leader with a puzzled expression.
“Wasn’t my fee ten shillings? I joined halfway, so I thought I’d get less.”
“Consider it a bonus.”
“A bonus that’s half as much again?”
The caravan leader twitched his well-groomed mustache and replied, “Think of it as an investment. An investment in building a relationship with a warrior who can tear goblins apart with his bare hands. How often does someone like you take on caravan guard work?”
Well, if money got tight, he could always do it again tomorrow.
Not that he said that out loud. Five extra silver coins were enough to keep him silent.
The caravan leader continued in an enthusiastic tone, “You’re going to be a great warrior! There are plenty of superhumans in the labyrinth city, but in a few years, you’ll be standing shoulder to shoulder with them!”
Ahem. Realizing his voice had been too loud, the caravan leader cleared his throat and extended his hand.
“When that time comes, don’t forget about me, Volkmar Gallios. We once braved a monster-infested forest together.”
Monsters, he said, when it was just a few goblins and orcs. The caravan leader wasn’t inexperienced enough to believe his own words.
It was obvious flattery, but still.
“Alright.”
Money was innocent, after all. Dalen shook the caravan leader’s hand.
“That’s the spirit! I have a good eye for people! See you next time, Dalen of the North!”
After a firm handshake, the caravan leader left the inn, telling Dalen to find him at the merchant guild if needed.
Thud.
The door closed amidst the noisy inn, leaving Dalen alone at the table.
The other Silver Shield mercenaries had already settled their accounts and returned to their respective companies. It was common for Silver Shields to belong to a mercenary company, unlike Dalen, who worked solo.
“Another beer, please.”
Left alone at the table, Dalen ordered another drink from a passing server and surveyed the inn with a detached gaze.
The large first-floor tavern was bustling with patrons at dozens of tables, creating a lively din.
After finishing his beer, Dalen finally rose from his seat.
Outside, night had fully descended, but the main street was still lively, illuminated by torches.
Dalen sighed and made his way through the crowd, turning into a side alley.
Step. Step.
The path grew narrower and more convoluted.
The cobblestones gradually disappeared, replaced by dirt, and the number of torches dwindled.
Fewer people walked the streets, and those who did seemed far from ordinary.
”······.”
Dalen kept walking.
He ignored a thug sizing him up from a distance and passed a woman muttering incomprehensibly as she scratched at a wall.
A few shady figures approached with glinting eyes, but upon seeing Dalen’s imposing figure, armor, sword at his waist, and shield on his back, they quickly retreated.
After about ten more minutes of walking, Dalen found a shabby inn.
Creak. Creak.
The sign swung precariously in the wind, and the door was riddled with holes.
Compared to the place where he received his payment, this inn was utterly insignificant.
Yet Dalen entered without hesitation.
“Ha ha ha! So I tied him to a post and—”
“Screw this world! To hell with it all!”
“Oh, a new face! How about spending the night with me, darling?”
The stifling air hit him like a wave, bombarding his keen senses with stimuli.
The smell of cheap liquor. The raucous laughter and chatter. The unique stench of a dirty back alley, masked by cheap perfume. People babbling nonsense, drunk on who knows what.
‘Finally found it.’
Amidst it all, Dalen spotted what he had been searching for.
A body, stabbed with daggers and slashed all over, lying in a pool of blood.
[You have discovered the corpse of a humble mercenary.]
[TIP: Recovering the corpse allows you to inherit some of its stats, skills, and items.]
It was the body of his character, his avatar from his days as a gamer.