I awoke in a cold sweat, my heart pounding. My mind scrambled to hold on to the fragments of the dream that had jolted me awake, but they slipped away too fast, like trying to catch smoke in my hands. All I was left with was the lingering unease and the weight of exhaustion pressing on my chest.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood, groaning as I stretched. My body felt stiff and heavy, the events of the day before rushing back with the clarity of a hammer strike.

The basin sat near the window, its still water reflecting my pale, haggard face. I cupped my hands and splashed the cool liquid onto my skin, letting it chase away the last vestiges of sleep. The chill helped, but only a little.

The window beside the basin had no curtain, just bare, dirty glass that made everything outside look hazy and distorted. I wiped at it halfheartedly, but the grime didn’t budge. It didn’t matter—I wasn’t ready to face whatever was out there yet. Not until I had some answers.

I slipped on my boots and headed downstairs, the floorboards creaking under my weight. The common room looked quieter now, with only a few early risers scattered at the tables. Behind the counter stood a man who, for a moment, I thought was the same one from last night. He had the same sharp features, the same neat beard, but his clothes were different—simpler, more suited for daytime work.

"Are you the same man from last night?" I blurted out before I could stop myself.

He glanced up from wiping down the counter and smiled politely. "Good morning."

I blinked, realizing how rude I must have sounded. "Morning," I said quickly, trying to cover my awkwardness.

"I’m not," he said, setting down the cloth. "If you came in last night, you met my twin, Jason. I’m Mason."

"Twin?" I repeated, blinking again.

He gave a small nod. "How can I help you?"

I paused, unsure how to begin. But then the weight of everything I’d been carrying—the confusion, the panic, the sheer lostness—boiled over, and I shrugged, letting it all spill out.

"I woke up in a jail cell with no idea where I am or how I got there," I started, my words tumbling over each other. "I have no money, no means of making money, and no idea where to go or what to do. You gave me a free room because I’m a ranger, but I barely know what that even means. I can’t live here forever—not that I want to—and I still need food."

Mason raised an eyebrow, his expression softening as he let out a small, almost amused smile. "Wow. Sounds like a rough day."

"You could say that," I muttered, feeling a little silly for unloading on a stranger.

He leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on the counter. "Well, first of all, you’re welcome to stay here as long as you need. Rangers always have free rooms here—that’s just the way it works. Unless you plan to give up your title, you’ve got a roof over your head."

That was a relief. Not a perfect solution, but at least one less thing to worry about. Still, it didn’t solve my bigger problems.

"But you’re right," he continued, "you’ll need money for food, supplies, and anything else you might need. This is a mercenaries’ guild, after all, and there’s no shortage of money to be made here. That said…" He tilted his head slightly, studying me. "As a level one, your options are limited. You didn’t level up in school?"

I stared at him, feeling that now-familiar pang of disorientation. "No," I said flatly. "I didn’t go to school."

Mason frowned slightly, as if that answer didn’t make any sense to him. "No school? Then how did you get the Ranger title?"

My stomach tightened. I didn’t want to answer that. What was I supposed to say? That I chose it from glowing words that floated in front of my eyes? That I’d woken up in a world where everything suddenly felt like a game I didn’t know how to play? That I didn’t even understand what being a Ranger meant?

Mason’s eyes narrowed slightly as he waited for me to respond. His earlier smile faded, replaced by a faint crease of curiosity—or suspicion.

I swallowed hard and forced a shrug, trying to look nonchalant even though I could feel the panic bubbling under my skin. "It’s… a long story," I said, my voice weaker than I wanted it to be.

He didn’t look convinced, but after a moment, he sighed and leaned back. "Fair enough," he said. "Your business is your own. But if you want to start making money, I suggest checking the job board over there." He gestured to a large wooden board on the wall near the entrance, covered with scraps of parchment. "Most of the higher-paying work won’t be available to you until you level up, but there should be a few small jobs you can take."

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

I glanced at the board, my chest tightening again. The idea of taking on any kind of "job" right now felt impossible. But Mason was right—I didn’t have much of a choice.

He gave me a small, encouraging smile. "You’ve got a lot to figure out, Ranger. But you’re not the first to come through here feeling lost, and you won’t be the last. Take it one step at a time. You’ll figure it out."

The job board loomed larger as I approached it, the flickering light from a nearby lantern casting uneven shadows across the scraps of parchment pinned to its surface. A faint breeze from the door stirred the edges of the papers, making them rustle like dry leaves.

I stopped a few feet away, staring at it. From a distance, it looked innocuous enough, just a simple wooden board with uneven planks and a few scattered notes. But the moment I got closer, the details hit me like a punch to the gut.

The first job my eyes landed on read:

"Retrieve a lost amulet from the Lurkers in the Blackmarsh. Reward: 120 gold. Recommended Level: 8."

I blinked, my stomach twisting. The words “Lurkers” and “Blackmarsh” made my skin crawl, even though I didn’t know exactly what they meant. But something about them—the way they felt in my head, cold and heavy—sent a shiver down my spine.

I moved my gaze to another.

"Cull the Shadefang Wolves preying on travelers along the Ironpath. Reward: 150 gold. Recommended Level: 5."

Shadefang Wolves? My mind conjured an image of glowing eyes and slavering jaws, their bodies coiled and unnatural. I took an involuntary step back, my bruised hand curling into a fist.

Every job I read felt worse than the last.

"Eliminate the Bonefiend haunting the ruins north of Kaelor. Reward: 200 gold. Recommended Level: 10."

"Escort a merchant caravan through the Hollow Woods. Reward: 80 gold per day. Recommended Level: 6."

The descriptions blurred together as my pulse quickened. The monsters, the dangers—they weren’t just words on a board. They were real things out there in this world, lurking, hunting, waiting. And I was supposed to fight them?

I ran a hand through my hair, stepping closer to get a better look at the lower corner of the board, hoping—praying—for something easier. But every job was out of my reach. Every task was stamped with a recommended level far beyond where I was.

Except one.

My eyes landed on a scrap of parchment near the bottom, its edges curling as though it had been there longer than the others. The words were faint but readable:

"Clear the vermin from the abandoned cellar beneath the Old Mill. Reward: 20 gold. Recommended Level: 3."

I exhaled slowly, relief mingling with unease. Level 3. It wasn’t exactly within reach, but it was the lowest I’d seen so far. “Vermin” didn’t sound as bad as Shadefang Wolves or Bonefiends. And 20 gold wasn’t much, but it was more than I had now—which was nothing.

I reached for the paper, intending to pull it down and bring it to Mason, but the moment my fingers brushed the surface, the parchment didn’t budge. I frowned and tried again, gripping it tighter this time, but it was as if the paper were glued to the board.

I muttered under my breath and tugged again, harder this time. Nothing.

Before I could feel more foolish, the board flickered—not physically, but in my vision. A faint ripple passed over it, and then the world around me seemed to dim, the edges of my vision blurring.

The words on the paper glowed faintly as a new set of text appeared in my mind, bright and crisp.

Quest Added to Log:

"Clear the Vermin from the Cellar beneath the Old Mill."

Details:

The abandoned mill on the outskirts of town has become infested with vermin. The townsfolk whisper of strange noises in the night and shadows that move where they shouldn’t. Investigate the cellar, clear the infestation, and report back for your reward.

Reward: 20 Gold.

Do you accept this quest?

[Yes] / [No]

I stumbled back, blinking hard. The faint glow faded, but the question still hung there, waiting, as if written across the back of my eyelids.

"What the hell?" I muttered. My pulse thundered in my ears, and I looked around, half-expecting someone to have noticed what just happened. But the tavern patrons were oblivious, too busy with their drinks and conversation to pay me any attention.

I turned back to the board, staring at the faint shimmer on the parchment. The words were clear in my mind now, repeating themselves silently.

"Do you accept this quest?"

I hesitated. My first instinct was to say no. I wasn’t ready for this—not even close. Level 3? I was barely level 1, and I had no gear, no skills, no plan. I didn’t even know what "vermin" meant in this world. Were we talking about rats? Giant spiders? Something worse?

But as I stood there, I thought about Mason’s words. About how Rangers could stay in the guild for free—but food wasn’t included. About how this world seemed built for people to work, fight, and survive.

I couldn’t keep hiding. If I didn’t start somewhere, I’d never figure out what the hell was going on, and I’d never find a way to survive.

Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and focused on the glowing words in my mind.

"Yes."

As soon as I thought the word, the world around me seemed to shift. The faint ripple returned, and for a moment, everything felt lighter, sharper—like the air itself had changed.

A soft chime echoed faintly in my ears, and then the text in my vision faded, replaced with a single line:

Quest Accepted.

The parchment on the board glowed briefly, and then the glow faded, leaving it dull and ordinary once more. I reached for it again, but this time it came free easily, the texture rough and familiar in my hands.

I stared at the paper, my heart still racing. This wasn’t just a job—it was something bigger. Something I didn’t understand yet. But one thing was certain:

I’d just taken my first step into this world.