Chapter 227: Really No Luck?
"I originally figured I could coast into the top twenty and ride it out from there. Then last month the bottom three on the leaderboard stopped being tied, and as the sole player in last place I became the Faceless Men's next target." The prisoner's tone was pure frustration. "Didn't see that coming."
Ian said nothing. So you're telling me you were perfectly happy sitting at twenty-one forever.
The prisoner caught Ian's expression shifting and seemed to realize how that had landed. He added quickly, "Though that kind of existence is pretty meaningless, isn't it? I survived this long without getting eliminated, but my strength hasn't improved at all. The moment the Faceless Men marked me, I had nothing to fight back with."
"That brings me to my next question," Ian said. "How are you still this weak after six months?"
"That's a genuinely painful story." The prisoner's face did something complicated. "When I was setting up my character, the starting options were wildly unbalanced — nothing like a normal game. So I started wondering whether picking a truly terrible starting class might come with some kind of hidden compensation elsewhere."
Luck, Ian thought. "And you actually went through with it?"
"I'm a methodical person. When I have a hypothesis, I prefer to test it." The prisoner paused with the expression of a man who had run an experiment and deeply regretted the results. "So I chose a bankrupt blacksmith.
You know how this game works — there's no system support for resources in the early stages. With that starting class it took me four full months just to complete the first main quest. By the time I'd scraped together enough to actually develop my character, I looked around at Westeros and Essos and realized the entire storyline had already been torn apart by players further ahead of me. I couldn't find a usable entry point anywhere."
That was genuinely rough. Ian suppressed a laugh. "But you went four months at zero points without drawing an assassin you couldn't handle. Doesn't that suggest the trash class actually did work?"
"I don't think so." The prisoner shook his head. "My working theory is that the assassination mechanic isn't random. I think every player's starting character has some kind of internal evaluation score. When players are tied for last place on settlement day, the tiebreaker is that score — higher starting score ranks lower. That's the only explanation I can find for why I wasn't targeted until the ties finally broke."
"Setting aside pure coincidence, that's a reasonable conclusion — even if it's not particularly useful to anyone." Ian couldn't help smiling. "Though I have to ask — weren't you scared? We're talking about real consequences here."
"My role in the Alliance was industrial development. My starting class didn't affect that job one way or another."
"Industrial development?" Ian's attention sharpened. He and Celia both understood the theory well enough, but when it came to actual implementation — the engineering details, the process specifics — they were working largely by instinct. "What did you do before the competition?"
"Engineering professor. Materials science and manufacturing processes, mostly."
"Where?"
The prisoner named a university.
Ian studied him for a long moment. His read on people was rarely wrong. The man was telling the truth.
"Why would someone like you risk your life in something like this?"
The prisoner's expression closed off. Something dark moved behind his eyes.
"That's a harder question." He took a breath. "Before the competition, I was leading a research project overseas. An armed insurgency broke out in the region. The rebels seized our facility." He stopped. "They took my wife. And several of my colleagues. They're holding them, and they're forcing me to compete. They need the prize money to buy weapons."
Ian was quiet for a moment. "That's a dangerous thing to admit. You understand that telling me your goal is the full prize puts us in direct conflict — it rules out any real alliance between us."
"I know." The prisoner met his eyes. "But I can't lie to you. The way you look at people — it feels like you already know what you're going to hear before you ask. I'd rather not test that."
He added immediately: "I've let go of the prize. I just want to survive. I'm not asking for an alliance. Post guards on me around the clock — if I make any move that looks wrong, put me down without hesitation. Just let me work. Let me be useful. That's all I'm asking."
Ian considered him for a moment, then snapped his fingers. "Deal. I'll deal with the Faceless Man who's marked you. In exchange, you work for me until the competition ends." He paused. "And don't give up. As long as you're breathing, your situation can change."
"Don't bother testing me," the prisoner said quietly. "I know what betraying you would cost. My name is Adam. It's an honor to serve you."
"Good." Ian gestured to the Unsullied to cut Adam's restraints, though he kept Yara positioned directly behind him. "Let's keep talking. Where are your allies?"
"I don't know. We'd agreed to meet at the Crossroads Inn in the Riverlands at the start. I got there and spent half a day watching the place before I spotted traps laid by other players and cleared out. I think the others probably didn't make it."
One of the ones who slipped through the net. Ian felt a flash of wry amusement. It made sense, in retrospect — he'd been hunting sellswords, traveling merchants, Brotherhood riders, the kinds of people who moved through the same channels he did. A penniless blacksmith wandering the roads wouldn't have registered as a target worth tracking.
"Last question. What brought you to Astapor?"
"I picked up an optional quest in Volantis — helping a local nobleman place an order for bed slaves through Yunkai. I was heading there to complete it when the system notification came through telling me I'd been marked by the Faceless Men." Adam paused. "After thinking it over, I decided my best odds were here."
And you walked straight into safety. Again. Ian stared at him.
Are you absolutely certain a bad starting class doesn't improve luck?
[Milestone: 500 Power Stones = +1 Chapter]
[Milestone: 10 Reviews = +1 Chapter]
Enjoyed this chapter? Leave a review.
20+advanced chapters on P1treon Soulforger