Unsure of what the large looming wall meant, Jack looked for the nearest NPC to show him the ropes. That was easy enough. He just had to find the highest concentration of players. Hidden behind a cluster of noobs in gray, an old man sat under the tree. He had a thick mustache, a long beard hiding his mouth, and a huge pointy hat hiding his eyes. Over him, he found a name tag identifying him as ‘Tutor Ezekiel.’

“Hello, Tutor Ezekiel,” greeted Jack, following basic gaming protocol.

“Well, well, well. Looks like we have another adventurer to help out.” Every word had an inflection he had only heard in famous old actors or grandfathers with a knack for storytelling.

“That’s why I’m here,” said Jack, trying to play along.

“Oh, fledgling… There’s so much to learn but so little time. The wall has served us well for eons, but the cracks are spreading, and it won’t last forever. Time is of the essence. You have to learn how to survive the dangers of this world while there’s still time. What would you like to learn?”

A series of options appeared in front of him.

The world within the wall

The world outside the wall

Fighting

Crafting & Gathering

Dungeoneering

Attributes

Even though the first two options caught his interest, he decided to start with where the money was. “I want to learn about crafting.”

“Fine choice, young man! Crafting then. Let’s see. Where to begin?” The man paused as if this was his first time teaching someone about this topic.

“Shall we start with how our wall would have long fallen if our warriors had to fight bare-handed? Think about that: without craftsmen, there would be no wall to begin with, and we would all be history. Crafting. Yes. Crafting.

“The key to crafting is single-minded devotion. Absolute concentration. That’s why you are allowed to choose only one major profession and one minor profession.”

“Uh? Major? Minor?” His cousin hadn’t told him about this. Now that he thought about it, he had been in such a rush to rent a helmet that he didn’t know whether his cousin crafted, hunted, or did something else.

“Yes. I’d encourage you to choose your major first. Find your calling. That will help you to choose the minor profession that best complements it.”

Jack bit the inside of his cheek. That sounded complicated. “How many majors are there?”

“I can tell you about five major professions. However, I’m just an old man from a small outer town. In the wall within the wall, you may find more knowledgeable folk who know of finer crafts.”

That means that there are other major professions. “What about minors?”

“Oh, there are many! Even in my little town, there are far too many to count.”

“Can you give me some examples?” Jack pressed.

“Sure. For example, consider one of the most common and important majors: [Smithing]. Smiths can work metal and craft sturdy armor and sharp swords. Some smiths choose to mine their own ore and learn the minor: [Mining]. Others who don’t like leaving the comfort of towns take other minors, such as [Recycling]. Some particularly talented smiths have a knack for precise work and end up taking [Tinkering].”

“I see. And imagine that I wanted to take [Mining] and [Recycling]. Could I do that?”

The man paused thoughtfully. “I suppose that’s a possibility. But most choose to have a major. It opens the door to more opportunities.”

“Good. In that case, I think I'll check these majors out. You were talking about [Smithing]. Let’s go with that.”

“Don’t you want to hear more about the other majors first? To make an informed decision?”

“No need, thank you. Where can I become a smith?”

“I’ll give you the address.”

Tutor Ezekiel has marked a location on your map.

Jack turned his back on the tutor and ran downhill, past the many other beginners. Several of them held wooden swords or quarterstaves and clumsily swung them around. It was probably part of the tutorial for fighting.

As he raced down the hill, he saw many others wielding their wooden weapons more confidently and fighting the numerous rabbits hopping around. Jack kept his eyes glued to the map and kept going.

He had to climb another hill with a similar lone tree and another old man sitting under it. From there, he saw where he was headed. It was a small town.

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The town’s buildings were built of dark stone, covered with crimson roofs and smoking chimneys. Jack could see something big at the town’s center from the crest of the hill, but it was too far to make out any details. He guessed it was a fountain because it shimmered under the sunlight. Six roads radiated from the statue, like spokes on a wagon wheel.

Jack hurried down the hill and entered the town’s dirt roads. Sniffing the air, Jack’s eyes widened. Smoke. He could smell it now. He closed his eyes, focused on his skin, and felt a breeze caress his cheeks. It felt so real! The developers had gone out of their way to create a realistic experience.

Now, inside the town, he could see how the buildings were only one storey-high. It wasn't a large town, but it was big enough to accommodate the many beginners walking around. Buildings lined both sides of the roads. He saw a few shops with large windows that allowed a view of different wares. From the start of the road to the fountain at its center, there were at most ten buildings.

Players chatted with NPCs while pursuing their different quests. Although many still wore the same gray drabs and simple wooden swords and quarterstaves he’d seen earlier, some already had leather helmets, wooden shields, rusty daggers, and ragged capes.

Now that he was closer, he could better appreciate the fountain. A sculpted couple stood back to back. The man wielded a hammer, and the woman a drawn bow. The fountain's edge was shaped like the battlements of the great wall he had seen from the crest of Ezekiel’s hill. He wondered what the statues meant. Maybe the woman represented players focused on fighting, and the man represented those focused on crafting. But what was on the other side of the wall? What were they trying to keep out?

Shrugging, Jack turned left at the fountain, following the map marker to a building with a large sign featuring an anvil. The flashy bronze letters spelled out ‘Blacksmith,’ and smoke puffed steadily from the chimney.

The door gave way easily as Jack pushed it open. The first thing that hit him was the sweltering heat. The forge’s fire blazed on the far end, where a bald man in a thick apron and cumbersome gloves oversaw several beginners hammering red-hot metal. Their faces gleamed with sweat, and Jack’s eyes widened at how drenched they looked.

He watched them work, imagining himself in their shoes—hammering away for hours, his arms aching, the heat sucking the life out of him. Crafting might be profitable, sure, but living in a furnace? No way. This place is like one long, torturous sauna session.

The master smith, noticing Jack, barked a few tips at his apprentices before approaching. He gave a hoarse chuckle. “Look what we have here. Could it be that you’re a smith in the making?”

“Well, I—” Jack hesitated, glancing over at a nearby player who groaned as he hefted a glowing piece of metal with tongs. The poor guy’s face was redder than the forge fire. How do people do this without melting?

The blacksmith leaned in with a grin. “Are you here to tame fire, to shape metal, and to bend steel?”

Jack felt the sweat start to bead on his own forehead, and he bit his lip. Tame fire? Shape metal? I mean, I’m all for crafting, but signing up for a slow roast every day? He quickly came to a decision. “I think I’ll pass.”

The blacksmith blinked, thrown off by Jack’s casual rejection. “Uh? But didn’t Ezekiel send you here to try smithing?” He looked genuinely disappointed, as though his epic speech had fallen flat.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t sign up to become roast beef,” Jack muttered, wiping the sweat from his brow.

Without another word, Jack stepped outside, breathing in the cool air. I’ve gotta hand it to the developers. They nailed the realism, but no way I’m signing up for that level of discomfort.

He headed back and climbed the hill closest to town, trying to approach the tutor sitting there. His clothes were of a slightly different color from Ezekiel’s, and instead of a bushy beard, he only had a long mustache. Jack checked his name and tried asking for information on the next major.

“Excuse me, Tutor Joel! Do you think that you can give me some information about crafting?”

The man studied Jack from top to bottom and shook his head. “Didn’t I see you a little earlier coming from the direction of Ezekiel’s hill?”

“Uh… yeah.”

“I’d suggest you keep talking to him then.”

Looking back and forth between the hill and the town, Jack scratched his head. “But it’s much closer to come here.”

Tutor Joel frowned and stood up, assessing the difference in distances. “Isn’t it just a small walk?” he asked, bewildered.

“Fine,” Jack answered, waving the NPC off and rushing toward Ezekiel’s hill. It had been worth the try. He could have saved himself a couple of minutes if he could have talked to Tutor Joel instead.

He could swear that none of the faces he’d seen near Ezekiel 30 minutes earlier were the same. In the time he was gone, his fellow noobs had completed the tutorial, and a new batch had arrived. The game had been out for several months now. Was there such a big number of beginners still joining New Earth? He guessed that was good for him. The more players there were, the more potential clients would buy items he auctioned.

“Hi, Ezekiel.”

“Uh? Back so soon?” Ezekiel said, instantly recognizing him. “Did you have any problems finding the local smith?”

“Yeah, I found it, but honestly, it was a bit overwhelming. The heat in there was just too much for me,” Jack admitted.

“Hot?!” Ezekiel laughed. “Of course, it’s hot. You can’t work metal while it's cold!”

“I get that, but I’m not sure I’m ready to handle that kind of environment just yet. Maybe something else would suit me better. What other options do you have?”

“Well, if heat isn’t your thing, you could try carpentry, leatherworking, or tailoring-”

“Carpentry sounds like it might be a good fit,” Jack interjected, eager to find a more suitable option. He didn’t care about what major he got as long as he could start making some money.

“Good! I like that decisiveness!” Ezekiel praised. “In that case, you’ll want to go see Master Sawyer. Here's her address.”

Seeing the new directions, Jack raced back to the small town. He didn't linger, hesitate, or do any sightseeing this time, thus shaving some minutes off the trip.

As he reached the fountain, he turned right and ran past a few houses and shops until he found the workshop Ezekiel had pinned on the map for him. The workshop’s architecture was incredibly similar to the smith’s forge. The only exceptions were that there was no smoke from the chimney here, and the sign reading ‘Woodworking Workshop’ was made of wood.

Entering, he could instantly feel an improvement over the forge. There was no sweltering heat or smoke here, just the fragrance of wood and varnish. He didn’t mind these smells. Maybe this would be his major after all.

A woman with an athletic build and callused hands came to meet him at once. She wore a dirty mask and dusty goggles that couldn’t hide her pretty green eyes. She patted her hands on her apron, causing puffs of sawdust to burst out of her clothes. She stretched out her hand, offering a handshake. “Greetings adventurer, Master Sawyer at your service. Are you here to join the ranks of the carpenters?”