As of the present, virtual reality games were primarily designed for entertainment, lacking any tangible interactions with objects or the sensation of the surrounding air. The immense power needed to create efficient Virtual Reality objects made the creation of action-packed games quite challenging.

However, Zephyr seemed to have forgotten this crucial fact. Not only did he taste the metallic flavor of his blood, but he also felt like he was on the verge of death. The exhaustion in his body, the sensation of an injured heart, and the excruciating pain were all too real.

"Looks like... this is game over for me... Ha..." Zephyr sighed as he gazed at the runes taking shape before his eyes. In his wildest dreams, he never imagined that the game's 'tutorial' level would prove so difficult to conquer.

As an average Asian, he felt deeply ashamed. He was certain that his ancestors must be weeping at his failure. Before his thoughts could fully form, the runes declared in an ecstatic voice,

[Congratulations, Player003! You've successfully completed the first trial named 'Tutorial'!]

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[Your evaluation is as follows: Excellent! If not for the damage you've received, the grade would've been much higher. However, congratulations!]

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"What the hell do you mean 'damage'? I am literally broken into pieces! Now come, help me!" Zephyr cried out but received no response. He was too exhausted to even cope with the system.

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[Your reward: Memory Fragments of Mordret Valorborn. (1)]

[Received.]

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.[Bonus reward: Vile Beast (Rank 2) Shard…] [Received.]

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[Good luck for the future!]

Zephyr's eyes closed, and a cold sensation enveloped his body as his blood circulation slowed down. Unable to control his body anymore, his brain also decelerated, almost like Zephyr's body was put into sleep mode.

However, just before he lost all his senses, he heard a feminine sound. "Lord..."

Zephyr knew nothing about this world, but when he heard someone calling him 'Lord,' something within him changed...

… A child was fleeing from a terrifying beast. His young body was too frail to stand against the menacing creature lurking in the shadows, its wide maw open, sharp teeth soaked in blood and flesh. The air around the beast was foul, and its eyes were bloodshot.

It was evident that standing against such a beast was unsafe for a child. How old was this child? His frail and thin body struggled to carry a sword that was probably a third of his weight.

From appearances, he couldn't be older than ten. And indeed, he was just nine.

"Save your skin, very good! This is what I've trained you for, you coward! Stop in a position and let that Dormant beast eat you so that I can free myself from this duty!" As usual, his trainer taunted him, his sarcastic tone, though sounding like praise to a mere nine-year-old, wasn't unfamiliar to him.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

The beast the Nascent child faced was a Dormant beast, and while noble families usually began their children's training when they reached adulthood, this wasn't the case for him. Instead, he was learning survival skills at a tender age, destined to be disowned upon reaching adulthood – a fate different from others.

"I only have six years left here..." the child thought, his white hair swaying with a crimson hue. Failing to kill the beast today meant no healing, no food, and no chance to continue his training the next day.

"I have to kill it!" The child's sapphire eyes shone with darkness. For a nine-year-old, 'killing' something couldn't mean slaying a Dormant beast. In fact, the word 'kill' itself wasn't suitable for a child of his age.

"Take your time! Let the beast get hungrier so those chains will snap!" The instructor held nothing back. After all, this cursed child had turned his life into a living hell.

Initially overjoyed to be appointed as a trainer for the Duke's household, the ambitious young trainer's delight turned into pure horror when he was presented with a child dressed in ragged and tattered clothes. Had it not been for the child's status as the Duke's son, the instructor would have considered getting rid of him, for who wants to train a dead weight?

With a fragile and weak body like that, what did the Duke expect him to train this child for? In the beginning, the instructor treated the child properly. Still, once he noticed even the servants didn't respect the boy, he began lashing out at him as well.

Eventually, he resorted to throwing the child in front of Dormant Beasts, firmly believing the child would meet his demise. But that didn't happen. The child was like a cockroach, a Nobel Cockroach! He would persist for days, even weeks, and once the beast was sufficiently injured, the child would eventually defeat it.

To make the challenge even harder, the instructor played dirty tricks, like adding the rule that the child would only receive food on the day he defeated the Dormant beast.

"Only gets healed when the kid kills the beast and so on and so forth. The instructor even exploited the rule of the Duke's house: No food with dirty clothes."

"Gah!" The kid's cry pulled the man out of his thoughts. As he witnessed the child lying on the ground, puking blood, a faint smile appeared on his face. 'Finally!' He was sad that a talented kid who could kill Dormant beasts at just the age of nine died, but he was extremely happy for himself: "I can finally get a million gol from the duke!" Tears of joy almost flowed down his cheek, but he held back. Now all he had to do was submit the corpse of this child to the Duke, and he would be free and able to live a life without working!

"H-Heal!" However, a sharp dagger hit his groin when he was lost in his world. "Arghhhhh!" The man cried and looked nearby to find the one who had attacked him. "Thirty-two." He heard the kid calling a number before his face was overwritten by horror. "Y-Young L-Lord, Nooo! Nooo!" The same dagger stuck in his eye, then another, then it hit his abdomen, then his inner thigh, then his neck, and finally slit his throat, severing his vocal cords. The man was on the verge of death.

"Cough! Thanks for being the bait," the kid said. Before the instructor could say anything, he was pushed forward. A guttural cry followed by a hot breeze of the beast's breath echoed in the enormous field, and the next moment, the trainer was fed to the beast. "Thirty-two…" The beast, on the verge of death, looked at the kid with contempt in its eyes. "We'll meet again. A month later," he said and left.

The trainer was unaware of one rule set for young Mordret. If he could not kill the beast, then he should at least kill someone on that day to get healed and get food. After all, the Duke never wanted to lose his kid so easily. "Ha! The next time, I'll definitely kill him…" Mordret Valorborn sighed and left, pocketing the Nascent shard of the thirty-second trainer he had killed. 'Three more before my experiment is complete…' Mordret sighed. His staggering steps continued towards the house– or rather– a small hut behind the huge mansion.

"State your purpose!" The guards of the Mansion stopped him, looking at the unholy child with contempt and disdain. "Healing and Food." Mordret showed the trainer's sword on his back and an eyeball that he had poked out earlier. The guard paled and hastily sidestepped. He wanted to bully Mordret, but with the sapphire eyes shining with darkness, the guard did not dare to offend him.

...

"You heard that too? That cursed demon once again killed a trainer! Can a nine-year-old child really do that?"

"Right? How in the name of god can he do such a hideous act?"

"I pray that fiend dies one day the same way he kills those poor trainers!"

...

The voices of the guards did not matter to Mordret. His goal was to get healed and earn today's worth of food. That's all.

Once he stood in front of the Priest, she looked at him with the same disdain as everyone. She clicked her tongue and pulled him by his broken arm. Mordret did not react. As if he was numb to all this pain.

After he left the Priestess's room, Mordret went to the quarters assigned to him. The one in the corner of the mansion. Once he entered, there was nothing but a small shelf that had folded robes. After finding out the least tattered clothes, Modret took them and went to bathe in the servant quarters. After that, he changed into fresh clothes and took the portion of food he was allowed to eat. Carrying that, his steps turned toward the hut he intended to go into. Knocking twice on it, he patiently waited.

"Ah, you must be that crazy child…" A voice answered him from the other side. As the door opened, two beautiful pairs of blue eyes welcomed him – the only eyes that held no disdain were hidden within. "Get inside, child," the voice of an elderly woman replied to his unspoken request.

…

(A/N: Gol is the currency in this world. Don't ask me ever again.)

(Still, I know that some assholes will ask me again in the future.)