The rain stopped. The sun was golden and warm—a welcome comfort against the back. A rainbow appeared on the horizon, as if signaling that something good was about to happen.
At the town gates, the drums were louder than a New Year's gala. Pike sat atop a snow-white stallion, his gilded longsword gleaming brilliantly. He waved triumphantly at the townspeople, looking every bit the hero. The old Mayor sobbed with joy, while the priest sprinkled holy water. Flowers carpeted the ground, as if Pike's departure meant world peace would arrive tomorrow.
In the midst of this roar, Xiao Yu clutched his rats and slunk through the darkest shadows like a creature avoiding the light. He didn't offer Pike a single glance. To a 20-year-old shut-in who only cared about a full meal and a good sleep, "saving the world" was a game for gods; it had nothing to do with him.
He turned a corner and slipped into the deserted Adventurers' Guild.
The hall was empty save for a few burly mercenaries boasting over drinks. The woman behind the counter was yawning in boredom.
"A license?" She eyed Xiao Yu—pale skin, vacant dead-fish eyes, and a stiff iron robe that reeked. She pushed the testing stone forward. "Strength first, then reaction. The Guild doesn't accept trash. That's the rule!"
Xiao Yu didn't say a word. He set the bucket down and settled into a shaky stance. This otaku body was so weak that just lifting a fist caused his stamina bar to flash red, and his heart hammered against his ribs.
"Hmph!" He let out a muffled grunt and threw a punch.
[Final Strength Value: 5 kg. Evaluation: Fail. Even an elementary schooler hits harder. Go home and sleep.]
"Hahaha!" the mercenaries mocked. "Five kilograms? Is he trying to tickle the stone?"
The receptionist sighed and drew a line through his form. "Strength: Fail. If you don't get an 'Excellent' on your reaction test, you're officially done."
Xiao Yu remained silent. He stepped into the reaction array. For a body wasted by years of staying indoors, this was a struggle for survival.
[Slow Motion Mode—Activated!]
In his vision, the swinging beams turned into slow-moving bubbles. But to others, it was a terrifying scene: Xiao Yu stumbled with every step, yet the beams kept missing him. One beam shot toward his crotch; because his robe was too heavy, his leg didn't lift in time, and it passed through the gap in the fabric with surgical precision. Two more beams aimed for his temples; he happened to bend down to adjust his collar at that exact second, and the beams flew over his scalp, accidentally smoothing out his messy hair.
With dead-fish eyes and drool leaking from his mouth, he moved in jerky tremors like a glitchy puppet. Thirty seconds later, his stamina hit zero, and he tumbled out of the exit face-first.
The receptionist's eyes widened. He had passed! Looking at the filthy youth with eyes as hard as stone, she felt a flicker of pity, reminded of her own brother far away. She engraved a few words on an iron plate and tossed it to him.
"Take it. F-Rank temporary license. If you die, find your own place to rot." She lowered her voice. "Here's a labor job no one wants: Pick ten Ghost Herbs near the South Graveyard. 50 coppers and a bowl of meat broth. You in?"
"Yes, I'll go," Xiao Yu agreed quickly.
He took the iron plate but didn't leave immediately. He collapsed onto a wooden bench in the hall to rest for a moment. He gasped for air, his chest heaving, and the heavy taste of rust filled his throat—the sound of a shut-in's body reaching its limit. He gripped the cold metal plate tightly, letting its chill pull his fainting consciousness back to reality.
Once he regained his breath, he tossed the plate to the rolling-eyed Mia.
"Just this?" Mia grumbled. "Pike is a hero on a horse, and you're taking me to pull weeds in a cemetery?"
"Can pride buy a meal?" Xiao Yu tightened his iron robe and grabbed his shovel. "Pike is heading to his death; we're heading for money. Let's move before the soup runs out."
The sunlight fell on Xiao Yu's back, but it couldn't penetrate his heavy robe. Carrying his shovel against the cheering crowd, he led Mia toward the dark South Graveyard. He looked like a speck of dust, yet he was as hard as a stone.