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Chapter 02
Originally, he had been nothing special. Just a rookie office worker with nothing remarkable about him.
His only real hobby had been gaming.
Mostly single-player RPGs. He avoided online games, because even there, the gap created by money and talent was painfully obvious.
That was how he ended up frequently visiting gaming community sites.
Watching videos or reading guides from so-called veterans was fun enough.
But sometimes, download links for pirated games were posted too.
He knew it was wrong.
Still, his low salary made for a convenient excuse.
So when he clicked on a post titled,
“Rare game DLC and full mod package, no longer available. First come, first served.”
it hadn’t felt like a big deal.
***
<Aquilonia.
A semi-open-world dark fantasy steeped in betrayal, corruption, rebellion, and conspiracy.>
The introduction caught his interest.
The screenshots looked convincing.
The game was no longer sold due to issues with the developer.
The post was deleted right after he clicked the download link.
Feeling oddly proud to be “first come,” he launched the game immediately, determined to spend the entire weekend finishing it.
***
In Aquilonia, there were five playable classes:
Knight.
Barbarian Warrior.
Mage.
Scout.
Acolyte Priest.
A tip during installation mentioned that in special situations like boss battles, you could receive help from other players’ characters registered on the server.
But the server wouldn’t connect.
Whether it was because he had a pirated copy or because the servers no longer existed, he didn’t know.
One thing was certain—he would have to do everything alone.
So he chose Mage.
A ranged damage dealer, and generally the safest choice for beginners.
His unique traits were Sixth Sense and Concentration.
Difficulty: Normal.
Appearance: Default.
Name: Random.
Thus was born Ian Hope—the character who would one day become his body.
***
“…Should’ve looked up a guide first.”
Ian swallowed a sigh.
It was regret that came too late.
Back then, he had been too immersed in the game to think that far ahead.
Overall, Aquilonia had been excellent.
The graphics were slightly dated, but the atmosphere made up for it.
Combat felt satisfying, built on an extremely diverse skill tree.
As a semi-open world, certain quests had to be cleared to unlock new regions.
Still, the high degree of freedom and the ability to skip side quests or cutscenes kept it from feeling tedious.
Most of all, the many choices that led to grim, dark-fantasy outcomes had delighted him.
Of course, the game wasn’t easy.
Equipment wasn’t restricted by class but by stat requirements. As a result, item effects were scattered and inconsistent.
Skill points were extremely limited compared to the vast skill tree.
Bosses and named monsters were especially difficult.
He progressed by picking stats and skills he thought suited the situation at the time.
He hit a wall in Chapter 4, near the end of the game.
The difficulty had noticeably increased in Chapter 3.
Before he knew it, even regular monsters had become hard to deal with.
A bit of grinding changed nothing.
So he searched for a guide.
Fortunately, he found an old, expert-level guide written by a veteran player.
It was practically a thesis, so he skimmed only the parts he needed.
And slowly realized how disastrous his situation was.
***
First, his unique traits were a problem.
Sixth Sense and Concentration had poor synergy for ranged combat.
Elemental Affinity, Mana Lineage, Insight, Parallel Thinking—even Luck or Reflexes—would have been more helpful.
On top of that, his character’s stats were lower than other mages at the same level.
Especially Intelligence and Spirit.
Because he had invested heavily in Strength, Agility, and Vitality instead.
To equip gear meant for solo survival, he had felt it necessary.
But that was something meant to be overcome with high skill and overwhelming firepower.
His skills were also scattered.
Instead of focusing on one element, he had dabbled in many.
Arcane skills and shared skills, which were meant to be kept minimal, he had leveled too freely.
Skill points were precious.
He had lacked mana and money.
Bosses with extreme resistances appeared often.
So he had made compromises.
But the proper solution was farming items and lowering enemy resistances—not spreading himself thin.
The most fatal issue, however, was quests and choices.
He had skipped too many essential side quests that granted bonus stat points and skill points.
Worse, he had deliberately chosen the worst possible dialogue options for fun.
As a result, many key characters who should have helped him had died or fallen into corruption.
In short—
Ian Hope was a ruined character.
A completely ruined character.
And nothing about him could be fixed.
***
Fortunately, there was still time left in the weekend.
He made a quick decision.
Start over.
This time, follow the guide properly.
Choose an easier class.
But there was only one character slot.
Unlocking another required paid payment.
Impossible.
So he chose to delete the character.
An error window popped up immediately.
Denied?
While he stared at the screen in confusion, more pop-ups appeared.
<◆◇◐◑ are watching you.>
<◆◇◐◑ desire the end of the world.>
<◆◇◐◑ …>
After that—
All he remembered was the monitor flashing blindingly.
That was his final memory of his original world.
When he regained consciousness, he was lying in the middle of an unfamiliar swamp.
With the tutorial quest window from the beginning of the game floating before him.
***
“……!”
Sensing a presence, Ian’s eyes snapped open.
His body reacted first.
He grabbed the sword leaning beside the bathtub and aimed it at the intruder.
“Eek—!”
A stifled scream.
It was the waitress, holding a bucket of steaming hot water.
Water sloshed over the rim and splashed onto her leg.
“I—I came to change the water…”
Her voice trembled as the blade hovered near her neck.
Ian stared at her frightened brown eyes.
Perhaps because he had just been recalling the past, an old question resurfaced.
Was she really human?
Or just incredibly detailed graphics?
This world had originally been a game.
“…I see. My mistake.”
Ian lowered the sword.
“I’m sorry…”
The waitress set down the bucket and collapsed onto the floor.
Her shoulders trembled. Cold sweat dotted her forehead.
Watching her, Ian reached the same conclusion he always did.
Even if she were fake—
He could never think of her that way.
If something felt this real, there was no meaningful difference.
“I’ll drain the bath.”
She stood and bent over the tub.
Pop.
The plug came loose.
Her reddened leg came into view—likely from the hot water.
Ian cleared his throat awkwardly.
“Sorry about earlier. Reflex. I get attacked often.”
She smiled faintly, more composed now.
“You must have been through a lot.”
Ian shrugged.
The swamp came to mind.
The sick. Refugees. Fugitives. Bandits. Monsters.
The vast tutorial area he once cleared in ten minutes—
He had spent over half a year surviving there.
Enough time to accept and adapt.
The game had become reality.
The scenarios he cleared had reset.
And now—
“I’ll bring another bucket. …Please don’t point the sword this time.”
She turned to leave.
Ian said nothing.
His thoughts were elsewhere.
Memories that had turned an ordinary man afraid of cockroaches into a dark-age mage who didn’t hesitate to kill.
If he hadn’t retained his stats and skills, he would have died long ago.
Why had only his level and skills remained?
Time period, quests, items—everything else had reset.
The most likely explanation was that whoever brought him here didn’t want him to die immediately.
A twisted act of mercy.
‘Would’ve been nicer if they’d just given me points instead.’
But the core issue hadn’t changed.
Ian Hope was still a ruined build.
Right now, the gap between him and these backwater enemies was massive.
He could kill them without much effort.
But eventually, he would hit the same wall.
He couldn’t hide in this village forever.
Time moved on regardless.
Events would unfold with or without him.
And if he didn’t intervene, they would spiral in unpredictable ways.
Unless he left the continent entirely, he couldn’t escape the current of fate.
And if he did nothing—
He would be swept away and die.
This world wasn’t just larger than the game.
There were more enemies.
Stronger ones.
Villages, people, monsters he had never seen in-game.
His limit might come even sooner.
Not Chapter 4.
Chapter 3.
Maybe even late Chapter 2.
‘What is this, a terminal illness?’
Ian let out a dry laugh.
His level hadn’t increased once in the past year.
Experience gained: only a few percent.
Mostly from quest rewards.
The enemies he fought were too weak.
Like kobolds.
Or the militia.
Still—
‘The story reset.’
That meant he could clear quests again.
Gain stat and skill points.
Change the worst choices.
The points he had previously earned hadn’t disappeared either.
‘Three points so far in early Chapter 1. Not bad.’
He couldn’t become the optimal mage from the guide.
But he had hope.
Hope to make it at least workable.
The ideal scenario was maintaining this overwhelming advantage.
‘But life never goes that smoothly.’
He looked at his swollen ankle.
The kobold chieftain’s thrown axe.
The wind barrier deflected it—but he had twisted his ankle in surprise.
A pattern the original boss never had.
“‘Never had’ my ass…”
After everything he had experienced, such naive thinking.
At least he learned the lesson with only a sprained ankle.
Thanks to his high Vitality, it would heal overnight.
The door creaked open slowly.
“I’m not holding the sword.”
Only then did the waitress hurry inside, another steaming bucket in hand.
Planning to boil me alive?
“Sorry I’m late, Hero.”
“Not a hero. A mercenary.”
“You saved the village.”
Technically true.
Though this village was doomed to burn someday.
“Just pour the water.”
She lifted the bucket.
“Tell me if it’s too hot.”
She poured slowly, glancing at him from time to time.
Her cheeks were faintly red.
Ah. Because I’m naked.
He had adapted too well to this dark age.
“Don’t get strange ideas.”
“W-what? I didn’t!”
“Exactly what I said.”
By this world’s standards, she was an adult.
But to him, she looked fifteen. Sixteen at most.
Feeling anything beyond paternal affection would be a crime.
“I wasn’t thinking anything…”
She was a terrible liar.
He looked down at himself.
Thanks to his Strength and Vitality stats, his body was well-built despite being a mage.
Clear abs he never had in real life.
His Intelligence and Spirit had sharpened his thinking.
Even with a ruined build, this much.
If properly built—
He might have been a sage.
“That’s enough. It’ll overflow.”
She reluctantly stopped.
“More water?”
“Food. I’ll be down in an hour.”
“And after that?”
“Nothing. Leave.”
She pouted but left with a strangely challenging look.
“…Seriously.”
He sank into the bath, activating Level 3 Meditation.
Originally, an Arcane skill meant to stay at Level 1.
***
The next day—
Ian returned to the kobold den with the tavern owner and several village youths.
A cart accompanied them.
“What a mess… Did you splash burning oil everywhere?”
Charred corpses. Ash. Burned palisades.
“How many were there?”
“Lord won’t care. Too busy preparing for war.”
“Lord or militia—good riddance.”
Their chatter quieted when Ian turned toward them.
They looked at him with awe and fear.
“As I said, your job is simple.”
Ian spoke calmly.
“Search every corner. Take anything worth using.”
