“AAH!”

  Spsh!!

  “Pfft~ Hahahaha.”

  “Haha.”

  Amid rustles of popcorn and squeaks of drink straws, ughter spilled out from a group of pyers who were sprawled across a long couch. On the floating screen before them, a man tumbled ungracefully from a pole into a pool of murky water, letting out a small shriek as he fell.

  “Poor guy. I feel bad for ughing.”

  Hearing the commotion, a pyer who had been walking past the room did a backstep and popped the door open, curious. “What’re you guys ughing about? Is this also a trial chamber?”

  A girl with a box of popcorn turned his way and responded, “Yeah, this is the first archer test. It’s really funny; basically, have you ever seen the show ‘Total Wipeout’?”

  “…That ancient show? – Isn’t that the one where people try to run an obstacle course without falling into the water?”

  “Yeah, that one! The trial is simir, except you also need to shoot targets while running through it. It’s really hard, so not even one person has managed to beat it yet.”

  “Mm, I see… Wha–? Not even one?”

  “I know, right? I didn’t believe it when I first heard either. Oh, look! The next person is starting.”

  Just as she said, the screen had changed to a new pyer, showing their movements from a top-down perspective. They appeared to be doing diagonal jumps between ptforms over a body of water, approaching a sloped ramp. Managing to successfully complete the jumps, the pyer began running up the ramp with a confident smirk. However, this expression was short-lived as a barrel suddenly emerged from the top ledge.

  “Oh shi–”

  Barely managing to jump over the barrel, the pyer threw his arms up in triumph, only to be bulldozed by a second one the next instant. Losing bance from the impact, he teetered with filing arms before finally toppling off the side of the ramp.

  Spsh!

  “Ha~ Hahaha!”

  “Oh man, this time only sted like four seconds.”

  The girl who had been expining things earlier gave a wry grin. “Although it’s hard, they usually do better than that at least.”

  The newcomer smirked. “That is pretty funny. Where do these unfortunate contestants go to attempt the trial?”

  “Over there, those crystal balls.” The girl pointed across the room. “When you press both hands against one, you get teleported to the mission area, assuming you meet the entry conditions. Just like the other csses, you need to be level 10 before you can try.”

  “Okay. Wait, then why are there three of them?”

  In fact, there were three crystal balls in the area she referred to, lined up in a neat row with each resting atop its own short podium. Although the podiums were belled, the font size was quite small, so the bels couldn’t be read from across the room.

  “Ah, there are actually three difficulties, but everyone just chooses the easiest one on the left. Did you know? – someone tried to do the middle one earlier and actually came out crying.” The girl smiled, as if it was a fond memory. “Unlike the other csses, there’s no queue for the archer trial because everyone fails too quickly. Since you lose a level every time you fail, the others all ran out of attempts and left already.”

  “Wow... that’s brutal.”

  Creaakkk.

  “Tell me about it. They must have forgotten the trials when they put out that archer patch yesterday. Because there are so few archers, this hasn’t picked up any attention on the forums, either.”

  Step.

  “Poor archers. And here I was, thinking I was unlucky as a mage.”

  “Haha, mage is one of the easiest ones. You only have to– Wait… did that guy just pick the third ball?”

  “Sorry?”

  “The guy that just came in – he walked past us and picked the third crystal ball. Didn’t you see him?”

  “I saw him!” The girl sitting adjacent piped up. “Some red-haired guy; he read the bels but went through with it anyway! He was kinda hot, actually.”

  “He saw the difficulty bel and still decided to try it? Ha, what an idiot.” A swordsman remarked, appearing slightly irked. “Some guys have no sense of reality.”

  “What does the bel say?”

  The first girl replied, “It just says one word – ‘Hellish’.”

  ...

  ...

  “Ooo~ I was teleported.”

  Max instantly found himself inside a bustling tavern, packed full with patrons. Although, strangely, the building’s colours appeared somewhat desaturated, like a portion of the vibrancy had been siphoned away somehow. The only exceptions to this were two men, who stood across from each other over the tavern’s bar.

  “What’s this, a bowman? Ah, let me guess, you’re here to try to enlist?”

  The man behind the bar was the first to speak. Judging by his demeanour, Max guessed he was the keeper of the tavern.

  “Yes, that would be correct. I am here to join the Golden Mamba Mercenary Company. I heard they are established here?”

  The second speaker sounded young, yet somehow authoritative. He had a muscur build, with a bow and quiver strapped to his back and a conspicuous head of smooth red hair. Intrigued, Max moved around to get a look at his face.

  ‘…Huhh? He’s me?!’ The NPC had Max’s face.

  “Well, it’s true they’re here... doesn’t mean you can join them though.” Not giving Max any time to comprehend, the tavernkeeper continued speaking with Max’s bow-wielding clone, surreptitiously inspecting his gear. “...Unfortunately, they’re full up. If you’re pnning to become a mercenary, you’ll have to try elsewhere.”

  The bowman’s eyebrows furrowed. “Sir, I’m not a fool. I’m aware they’ve taken casualties recently – there is no way they have the luxury to ignore new applicants in their current state.”

  ‘...His face and frame are the same as mine, just the voice is different.’ Max continued watching his body double with interest.

  After a brief stare-off, the tavernkeeper sighed, “...Fine, it is as you say. However, the captain has no interest in taking on new people. He’s made the entrance test virtually impossible to complete, to the point where it’s pointless to even attempt, even if you’re an elite fighter.”

  “Nonetheless, I shall try. Where do I need to go?”

  “Haah. You’re a stubborn one.” The tavernkeeper made an exasperated look. “Whatever, it’s your funeral. The door is down the end of the hallway, on the right.”

  “Got it. Thanks, tavernkeep.” The bowman flicked him a coin.

  ‘Strange… it feels like they’re ignoring my existence. Oh, could this be...?’

  Max tried swiping his hand at the bowman’s shoulder. As expected, the hand passed straight through to the other side, like a ghost failing to interact with the material world.

  ‘A cutscene! Wait, but why would they put a cutscene in now?’ Max was confused. ‘Isn’t this just a performance trial to unlock a new skill? That’s what the forums said it would be...’

  Max was familiar with cutscenes from his time in HoL. They usually only appeared in pivotal points of the main story missions and were used to convey important information to the pyer through the story’s protagonist.

  ‘Except, there shouldn’t be any ‘main story’ or ‘protagonist’ in this game, so why am I getting one here?’

  …Whatever the case, Max was gd he’d started his stream before coming into this pce. Being the first cutscene he’d encountered since the game’s opening, it was unlikely to be something insignificant.

  Doing his best to absorb the previous conversation, Max trailed after the bowman, who led him down the tavern hallway before coming to a stop outside the door mentioned by the tavernkeeper. Reaching a hand into his pocket, the bowman brought out a small locket and opened it. Inside, a picture of a kind-looking woman – seemingly in her early 20s – could be seen, surrounded by wildflowers. Smiling vivaciously, she appeared full of life.

  ‘A lover maybe? It could– Hm?’

  A complicated expression fshed across the bowman’s face; fleeting – Max would’ve missed if he’d blinked.

  ‘Sadness? No, anger? ...It’s kind of scary how well they can paint emotions with my own face.’ Max marvelled once more at the game’s capabilities. ‘That might have been important. I’ll need to pay closer attention from now on.’

  Putting the locket away, the bowman pushed the door open to reveal a rge dining room, filled with brawny drunkards pying cards and drinking ale. Of them, two froze mid-toast; three more paused mid-hand; then, all around the room, gazes shifted to the doorway. A soft hush rolled through the room until one man stood up to address the intruder, brandishing a tankard.

  “And who might youuu be, mate?”

  Although the mercenary looked intimidating, his speech was slurred and he stumbled slightly as he got up. He wore a long leather trench coat with a golden inner lining and a crooked bck tricorn hat which made him perfectly fit the archetype of a pirate.

  “Hello. My name is Liam. I have come seeking the opportunity to enter your mercenary company.”

  “…” For a few seconds, the room just stared at him.

  “B-bwahahaha!! Bwaha!” The drunk mercenary started guffawing loudly and shook his drink around. “No need to be so stiff, no need; we always welcome new auditioners!”

  The other mercenaries began to chuckle amongst themselves, as if they knew something Liam didn’t.

  ‘Auditioners? Sounds fun.’

  “Then, can I take this to mean you’re the captain of Golden Mamba, Sir Benedict Rotiart?”

  “Pfuhh!” Several men spat out their drinks.

  “Benedict??”

  “Boss has a name?!”

  “No way. I though Boss came out of the womb as Captain Ben.”

  …Liam’s face tightened, as though worried he might have made a misstep.

  Shocked, the mercenary captain tilted his body to the side, liquid spilling from his tankard. “How the flying ffff*ck do you know that? No, who cares; EVERYONE TO THE RIVAAAAR!!!” he waved his arms around, signalling for everyone to follow him. “You too, Brutus!”

  ‘Brutus?’ Max followed the captain’s line of sight to the corner of the room, where a rge man sat massaging an oversized warhammer with his thumb. ‘Woah! I didn’t even notice him. I’m not sure how I didn’t notice him though – he’s a giant!’

  Brutus snorted whilst scowling and begrudgingly rose from his seat. Seeing the man tower close to the ceiling, with clothes that appeared close to ripping due to their cking size, Max made a mental note not to mess with him in the future – he might get crushed to pieces otherwise.

  With everyone out of their seats, the group moved outside, as though they were switching locations for a fun party activity. However, after just one step out of the back door, Max could already see that the activity was much more eborate than that of a simple house party.

  “What the hell is this?”

  A wide river stretched out before him, spanning thirty meters across and flowing steadily into the distance. But that wasn’t what caught Max’s attention. What did was the massive stone obstacle course hovering over the water’s surface, extending several dozens of metres upstream.

  “Liamm, was it?” The captain grinned broadly. “It’s time for your baptism!”

  Suddenly, Max's vision switched to bck.