I woke to the stench of rot and damp earth. My body ached in ways I had never felt in the game.
The game let you feel some levels of pain, but they were really minimal.
My hands trembled as I pushed myself off the filthy ground. My arms were thinner than I remembered, frail, even. My breath caught as I looked down at the tattered rags hanging off my body.
The beggar's tunic.
I stumbled toward a puddle, half expecting the familiar HUD to appear. Nothing did. Instead, I saw a handsome face, black hair, red eyes, staring back at me.
Hollow cheeks, unkempt hair, and dull red eyes filled with a haunting recognition. This was him. The protagonist.
"What the hell..." My voice was raw, trembling with disbelief. "Is this some kind of sick joke?"
Then I was approached.
Garet.
His name came to me unbidden.
The first obstacle every player encountered, a thug who extorted beggars for whatever scraps they had.
He drawled, his voice as cruel as I remembered. "Look, what do we have here."
I clenched my fists, my heart pounding in my chest. Garet had been little more than a nuisance in the game, an annoyance at best.
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But now, staring up at his massive frame, he looked like a giant.
"Not now." I muttered, trying to step past him. My muscles were weak, but I forced my trembling legs to move.
He grabbed my shoulder with a grip like iron, stopping me in my tracks. "Not so fast, boy. Every beggar on this street pays their dues."
The old me would've handed over the few coins in my pocket and avoided a fight. But this wasn't the old me.
I glared at him.
Garet laughed, a deep, mocking voice. "Oh? You'll fight me? You'd snap in half if the wind blew too hard!"
I'd spent years trying to reach a perfect run. this world, I knew its secrets, its mechanics, everyone's weakness.
And I knew his.
I lunged forward, aiming for the spot I'd exploited countless times in the game. My fist connected with his left knee, and he stumbled with a curse.
Before he could recover, I grabbed a loose brick from the ground and swung it with every ounce of strength I had. The impact sent him sprawling, blood trickling from his forehead.
For a moment, I stood frozen, chest heaving, the brick still clutched in my hand. The silence that followed was deafening.
Then came a sound I hadn't expected.
A voice.
"Well done, my prince. But the path to the throne is long and treacherous."
I froze, my blood running cold. The voice was calm, almost soothing, but it sent chills down my spine.
"What... What is this?" | whispered, my voice barely audible.
It was the voice of a woman.
A faint memory stirred in my mind-a trial I had never seen in the game.
Perhaps it was the protagonist's mother.
I turned to leave, but Garet groaned, his eyes fluttering open. My heart raced. I had taken my first step, but the consequences were already in motion.
Taking a brick to the head and waking up like nothing happend. What a monster.
"..."
I must kill him.
If I let him live, he'll definitely come back for revenge.
It's easy, just like in the game.
The thought was sudden but clear, ringing through my mind with brutal logic. If I let him live, he'll definitely come back for revenge.
I tightened my grip on the brick, my hands trembling. But the weight of it felt different now. He was a threat, a problem to eliminate.
He shouted, "How dare you useless brat. I'll make sure you regret the day you were born."
His words rang in my ears, but I didn't falter.
After choosing this route, if you let him live, you get tortured to death.
These weren't real people.
They were NPC's
Before he could get up, I swung the brick down again.
This time, I heard the sickening sound of flesh tearing and bone splintering.
I didn't stop.
I hit him again.
And again.
Each strike blurred into the next.
By the time I stopped, my arms felt numb, my breathing ragged. I stared down at was left of him, my hands trembling.
A twisted chuckle escaped my lips.
As I was looking at the heinous sight. I came to the realization.
"This isn't a game... Not anymore."
I whispered, staring at the bloodied brick in my hand.