Player Chapter 36. The Game Mechanic [Part 1]
Elena stepped out of the shower room slowly, steam still clinging faintly to her skin.
She had changed back into her usual Saint dress, white, modest, soft fabric that fell neatly to her ankles. Familiar armor disguised as purity. She wrung the towel gently through her damp hair, feeling lighter than she had in months.
The modern apartment still felt surreal around her.
Warm lights. Clean lines. Quiet hum of nothing.
She expected Riven to be on the bed already.
Sleeping.
Or pretending to.
But the bedroom was empty.
She blinked.
"…Riven?"
No answer.
She walked further into the apartment, still drying her hair.
"Riven?"
"I'm here."
His voice came from somewhere deeper inside the apartment.
From the small side room she hadn't explored yet.
She followed the sound and pushed the door open.
Inside… He was standing in front of a crafting table.
A literal crafting table.
Wooden surface. Floating blue interface panels hovering in midair. Tools arranged neatly along the side. A faint mana glow pulsing under the structure.
He looked mildly frustrated.
Huffing.
She tilted her head.
"You're crafting? At this hour?"
He didn't look up immediately.
"Trying to craft," he corrected. "I just got this unlocked. But I don't have any materials yet."
He tapped one of the floating menus.
"Well, for now I could only make low-level accessory types. Rings. Bracelets. Minor stat boosts."
He sighed.
"Sadly, I have zero materials. So I'm just checking what I need."
She stepped closer, peering over his shoulder.
The interface was detailed.
Material slots. Recipe lists. Required components.
"I didn't know this game could craft," she said slowly.
He turned his head toward her. "This game couldn't craft?"
She shook her head. "This game has simple mechanics."
He raised a brow.
"No crafting. No cooking. No gathering herbs. No alchemy. No complicated talent trees. It was aimed for people who want to try playing games for the first time." She leaned against the doorway slightly. "Simple mechanics. Clear good and bad. Basic hero formations. Tank. DPS. Healer. Buff support."
He stared at her. "So… tutorial RPG?"
She nodded. "Very beginner-friendly. Even I played it for fun because it wasn't stressful."
He hummed softly. "I see." He leaned back against the crafting table and folded his arms. "I guess I'm an anomaly here."
She blinked.
"Because I can use and access something that doesn't even exist in the game's mechanics."
She felt a chill run down her spine. "You're changing the system," she whispered.
He shrugged casually. "Seems like it."
She looked at the crafting interface again. "If you need materials… I can help you."
He turned to her fully.
"The temple has resources," she continued. "Herbs. Metals. Relics. Even enchanted stones." She looked slightly embarrassed. "I have access to them. But I can't do much with them. So… maybe you can use them."
His eyes lit up slightly. "Great."
She smiled faintly.
"Thanks." He grinned. "Anyway, want to drink some milk before sleeping?"
She blinked. "…Milk?"
He pointed proudly toward the kitchen.
"I managed to get a cart of them from the temple kitchen."
She stared at him. "Impossible. How?"
He smirked. "Trading and negotiating."
She narrowed her eyes slightly. "You blackmailed someone, didn't you?"
He gasped dramatically. "I negotiated."
She folded her arms. "With what leverage?"
He tapped his chin.
"Leaves. Something I used for making those roasted Oolong."
She blinked.
"…You're serious?"
"Very."
She sighed.
"Unbelievable."
"Come," he said lightly. "I'll make hot milk for two."
He paused dramatically. "Actually." He turned around with a proud expression. "Two choco milk."
Her eyes widened slightly.
"Chocolate?"
"Cocoa powder from my last adventure," he said smugly. "Low quality. But usable."
He left the crafting room and headed into the kitchen.
She followed.
He moved with comfortable familiarity around the modern space. Heating milk on the stove. Stirring carefully. Adding cocoa powder with precise control.
Mana flickered faintly in his fingertips to regulate temperature.
No boiling over.
No burning.
He poured two mugs carefully.
The smell of warm chocolate filled the apartment.
She stood quietly, watching him.
He handed her a mug. "Careful. Hot."
She wrapped her hands around it.
Warm.
Comforting.
She didn't realize how much she missed this until now.
They moved to the couch and sat side by side.
The apartment lights dimmed slightly.
Modern.
Soft.
Private.
He took a sip and sighed in satisfaction. "Okay," he said. "Tell me more about this game."
She looked at him over her mug. "You don't know anything?"
He shook his head. "Nope."
Her brows furrowed. "You just… got thrown here without context?"
"Pretty much."
She stared at him. "You're reckless."
"Don't complain to me. It is against my will."
She rolled her eyes.
"This game was marketed as an entry-level RPG. Clean moral alignment. Clear villain arcs. Predictable story routes."
She took a sip of her milk. "Players usually picked one of five starting classes. Knight, Mage, Rogue, Archer or Priest. No hidden classes. No rare unlock systems."
Riven leaned back against the couch cushion, cradling his mug like this was a late-night podcast episode instead of a transmigration crisis.
"Sounds simple," he said. "Okay. Go on."
Elena exhaled slowly.
"I had cleared the game several times."
He blinked. "Several?"
She nodded. "I usually picked the healer role. Priest. Support build. I liked managing mana and positioning. The Saint in the main storyline was supposed to be the ultimate healer of the heroes."
Her fingers tightened slightly around her mug.
"So when I transmigrated for the first time… I thought it would be easy."
She gave a soft, humorless laugh.
"But I was wrong."
He didn't interrupt.
She appreciated that.
"Like I told you before," she continued, "I met the other heroes. The knight, the mage, the rogue. I thought they were transmigrators too."
Her lips trembled faintly at the memory.
"They weren't."
Silence settled between them.
"The story went wrong," she said quietly. "They went to the tower without me."
Riven's eyes sharpened slightly.
"They were pronounced dead."