In an instant, the world felt as if has frozen over. The pain and humiliation from the public beating resurfaced, like a blade plunging into his chest. His body started trembling uncontrollably, a crushing weight pressing down on him, squeezing him so tightly even breathing became a struggle.

“Oi, Carl, this the spineless weakling who tried that fancy move on you?” one of Carl’s lackeys sneered, and it felt like history was about repeat itself again.

(Don’t look at me….)

The weight of their contemptuous stares dragged Zi-Cheng back to that horrifying night, his mind replaying every second of the humiliation and brutal beating in excruciating detail, each memory magnified and sharpened until it pinned him in place.

“Pfft, you serious? This loser shaking like a little rabbit?”

(Don’t look at me….)

Zi-Cheng felt as if he was plunged into ice water, his nerves frayed to the breaking point. Just enduring their gaze was enough to make his thoughts blur into static.

“You know he doesn’t even have a single combat skill, right?” another jeered. “No rank, no skills, no guts. What a sorry excuse to even exist.”

“Hey, why don’t you just off yourself and save us from the embarrassment of looking at you?”

The group erupted into laughter, but Carl stayed silent with his icy stare fixed on Zi-Cheng.

(Don’t look at me….)

Zi-Cheng knew he couldn’t win, he had already tried and failed. Escape wasn’t an option either, and the courage to even consider defending himself had long since withered away. With tears threatening to spill, he sank to his knees, like a condemned man awaiting the executioner’s blow.

Yet Carl did not lift a finger.

“Pathetic.”

A single word, colder than ice and sharper than a blade, slipped from Carl’s mouth. There was a flicker of disappointment in his tone as he turned and walked away, as if Zi-Cheng never existed in the first place.

One step… two steps… three steps…

Zi-Cheng silently counted as Carl and his gang disappeared around the street corner, their laughter fading into the distance. Only then did he force himself to his feet and start walking in the opposite direction, his legs heavy, his chest hollow.

The world he had left behind, the world he now stood in — neither offered him peace. Every person who had turned their back on him, every contemptuous glance, every word laced with loathing clung to him like shackles. No matter how many times he tried to stand, no matter how hard he tried to move forward, they dragged him back down.

(Why even bother getting up, only to be beaten down again?)

He had been taught to stay calm and focus on the problems ahead, as if that was the only way to survive — to never give up, they said.

(What a bunch of bullshit!)

Betrayal after betrayal, he had crawled through each mess, forcing himself to stand up time and time again, even as everything he cared about was ripped away from him. He had buried his emotions, telling himself they didn’t matter. But now, as he walked, he felt a stranger’s voice creeping in. Faint at first, but growing louder with every step.

A voice that sounded just like his own.

“What a pitiful excuse for a life.”

“Don’t you feel ashamed, dragging yourself along like this?”

Zi-Cheng’s steps quickened, but no matter how fast he moved, he couldn’t outrun the voice. Other people’s words had cut him deeply, but this voice, his own voice, was sharper than all of them combined.

“You’re a failure.”

The words struck like a hammer. It wasn’t just a thought; it was a verdict, final and absolute. And with it, something inside him snapped. Every emotion he had kept locked away, from the loss of his game, his team, his dream, his career, and his world, all of it flooded his mind at once. His throat tightened, and tears began to blur his vision.

He broke into a run, but the voice followed him.

“Why are you still here, in a world that doesn’t want you?”

“If life is nothing but the same endless cycle of being trampled on, stripped of your dignity, then wouldn’t it be better to just end it once and for all?”

Zi-Cheng’s legs moved on their own, faster and faster, his breaths coming in ragged bursts, his stomach churning. He didn’t know where he was going. He didn’t care. He just wanted to escape the voice, the pain, the crushing weight of it all.

But the voice wouldn’t stop. It chased him, growing louder with each step, until his tears dried and exhaustion finally overtook him. His legs gave out, and he collapsed onto the muddy road.

Then there it was, a staircase without railings, about five stories high, steeply descending all the way to the bottom of the slope.

(Why isn’t there a railing?)

(Falling from this height would be certain death....)

A meaningless thought, yet one that sent a jolt through Zi-Cheng’s entire body, like a key that unlocked a hidden notion buried deep inside that finally broke free of its last restraints.

Perhaps... forcing himself to bear the pain and move forward was entirely meaningless.

Perhaps... after letting go, things would finally feel easier.

“Perhaps” is but a single word, but it may be the most seductive poison in existence. Its terror doesn’t lie in its ability to lead someone to their demise, but in how it creeps into the deepest corners of a person’s heart, flooding their mind with endless “what ifs” that slowly drown and erase who they once were.

Intoxicated by the poison and lost in his thoughts, Zi-Cheng drifted closer to the edge of the stairs, his eyes fixed on the distant horizon.

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

(Just a little more, a little more and I’ll be free….)

But as he was about to take another step, a voice called out behind him.

"Hey, sir! Did you just kick these pebbles toward our merchant guild?"

Zi-Cheng turned around, unsure how to respond, then noticed a girl with a ponytail tied by a bright red ribbon glaring at him.

(Wait, did she say merchant guild?)

His gaze shifted past the girl, and he noticed a quaint-looking building tucked into the most secluded corner of the commerce district. The two-story structure had outer walls formed by an intricate wooden framework, with spaces in between filled with gray bricks coated in a weatherproof layer. Its rustic charm gave off the distinct vibe of medieval European architecture, like something out of a children’s book.

“What kind of merchant guild is this?”

“Pick up the pebbles first, then we’ll talk.”

The girl was clearly persistent, and there was nothing Zi-Cheng could do to change that.

"Is this okay now?" Zi-Cheng picked up each of the pebbles lying at the doorstep of the merchant guild and stacked some neatly at the curb.

"Good to see there’s still someone who can follow instructions." The girl flicked her ponytail as if to brush him off, then turned and disappeared back into the building without so much as a glance in Zi-Cheng’s direction.

(That was it?)

Zi-Cheng’s gaze lingered on the guild’s doorway, then drifted back to the staircase without railings.

Once again, time seemed to slow to a halt.

With his heartbeat pounding in his ears, he suddenly realize what had just happened.

If it weren’t for the girl’s intervention, he would have taking the cleanest way to free himself from this world.

(Did she know what I was about to do….?)

Another “perhaps” stirred within Zi-Cheng’s heart, but this time, curiosity got the better of him as his father’s voice echoed through the fog.

“You chose your own path. If you fall, don’t cry and complain about it."

It was the same words, but somehow, they felt different.

He was clearly at a crossroads: to take the easy way out or follow his curiosity to see where the path behind the merchant guild’s doors might lead.

“Ah, screw it!”

Zi-Cheng cursed as he pushed through the merchant guild’s oak doors.

The moment he stepped inside, a wave of warmth washed over him. Soft amber light spilled across the room, and the scent of aged wood lingered faintly in the air. The wooden interior exuded a quiet charm, almost like stepping into another time. If the Dreslam Merchant Guild carried the imposing aura of a king’s palace, this place felt more like the refined, polite haven of a gentleman.

image [https://i.imgur.com/9qnC9uM.png]

“Welcome to the Golden Clover. I’m Reese Endalyn, the guild’s receptionist.”

The girl with a ponytail now stood properly behind the reception counter, her posture poised and professional. It was only then Zi-Cheng noticed the small four-leaf clover pin on her chest.

“Golden Clover?” Zi-Cheng repeated, his brow furrowed slightly as he has never heard anyone mention the name of this merchant guild throughout the morning.

As he looked around, he realized that even the worn wooden floorboards were engraved with intricate patterns of four-leaf clovers. However, the design had faded over time, their edges smoothed by countless footsteps. If he hadn’t looked closely, he never would have noticed them at all.

“Our guild’s been around for ages,” Reese said, her chest puffed up with pride. “Back when Verner Endalyn—our third guild master—was in charge, Roger Dreslam was just starting out as our part-time staff here!”

“Wait, the Roger Dreslam? As in the head of the Dreslam Merchant Guild?” Zi-Cheng’s jaw dropped, but Reese’s expression tells him she’s telling the truth.

“Yup! That old fox was just a teenager back then, doing odd jobs for us until, well, you know….”

(—Wait what?!!)

Reese thought that mentioning Roger Dreslam had caught Zi-Cheng’s attention, so she launched into a proud explanation of the Golden Clover’s history, completely unaware of the subtle change in expression on Zi-Cheng’s face.

Wham!

Zi-Cheng slammed his palms on the wooden counter, his pupils dilating with excitement. “You... you’re telling me that even kids without a combat rank can work part-time here?”

Reese stumbled backward as she was clearly startled by this sudden outburst, “Y-Yeah... that’s right, but...”

“YES————!!!”

Reese’s body jerked, momentarily stunned by the sheer force of his voice, “What is wrong with you!?”

“What’s wrong with me?” Zi-Cheng asked as his entire body trembling with excitement, “Do you have any idea how many doors have slammed in my face today?”

“You know you’re not really making any sense here, right?” Reese had seen lots of desperate people but this is by far the weirdest of them all.

“Just... just give me a moment...” Zi-Cheng took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. There was no way he could explain that he was from another world, that would be like an alien suddenly walking in to apply for a job. The best he could do was stick to the story he’d told Elena, give Reese a proper introduction, and leave out any “otherworldly details.”

For a moment, silence hung in the air. Zi-Cheng couldn’t tell if Reese was buying his story or not, but when she finally let out a sigh, he knew it definitely wasn’t a good sign.

“It’s true that we’ve been hiring older folks and kids to do lighter work since the time of our founding guild master, but...”

“But what!?” Zi-Cheng leaned forward, hanging onto her every word.

“But about half a year ago, our guild master left Hazelton to join a trade delegation in the elven kingdom of Antaurius. After that, the Dreslam Merchant Guild started spreading all kinds of nasty rumors about us, saying we exploit elders and hire kids as workers. Then the press got involved, and… well, now everyone’s turned against us.”

Zi-Cheng let out a quiet sound of realization. No wonder there wasn’t even a signboard of the merchant guild outside.

Reese seemed to catch onto his train of thought. Her brows furrowed, and she glared at him. “Don’t lump us in with those shady merchants! This city is full of people who can’t fight at the arena. If we don’t give them work, they won’t even have the means to survive!”

While Reese’s words might have sounded like the typical excuse from a sweatshop owner, Zi-Cheng knew better than anyone the harsh reality faced by those with nowhere else to turn to.

“Because of the scandal, we don’t get many commissions anymore. No… actually, it’s more like we’re stuck with the jobs other guilds don’t want.”

(So just scraps and left overs, how fitting for me....)

Perhaps in the past, Zi-Cheng was too used to chasing after his dreams. Even at rock bottom, he had never needed to dig through the trash to survive. But now, circumstances had changed. Even if it were leftovers, he would consider it a blessing to find a job, or even just a task, that could help him scrape by. This shift of mindset was drastic, yet he didn’t wasn’t even aware of it.

“Just one thing. Are these jobs...dangerous? Like, do they require combat?”

No, not exactly dangerous,” Reese replied, shaking her head. “They’re just... inconvenient, and the profit margin, well, it’s honestly not the best of course.”

She then retrieved a scroll from behind the counter, carefully unrolling it.