A knife hurtled at Vivian’s head, catching the light as it dropped. Whipping up the clippers, he deflected the knife. The deflection swung him backward on the hook, his body swinging freely. Vivian threw himself with the momentum and kicked forward, smashing both heels into the bartender’s gut. With a whoof, she stumbled back.

Releasing the hook, Vivian sprinted past, breaking out into the kitchen. The bartender hurtled after him. He heard a whoosh, and threw himself to the side. The butcher’s knife stuck into the wall and thrummed, vibrating from the force of the throw.

Shouldn’t have fucked with the bartender… shouldn’t have fucked with the cannibal bartender! Vivian smashed his shoulder into the door and burst out into the bar. “Help!”

Behind him, the bartender gripped her knife. Raising her foot to the wall, she yanked with all her might, struggling to free the knife.

The bar bros stood. They looked at Vivian, and their eyes turned hard.

“Looks like a little cat escaped.”

“Hey, kitty kitty. Shall we eat cat meat tonight?”

Fucking… hell! Vivian dodged left, and the bros ran left. He dodged right, and they ran right.

The bartender crashed through the door behind Vivian.

No more time. Gotta go! Going for a left dodge again, he stopped mid-lurch and threw himself over the bar. The bros whipped around toward him. A fist slammed into his side, and he stumbled.

Seizing the moment of his stumble, the bartender slashed his back. Vivian shouted in pain.

Red light throbbed at the corners of his vision. A helpful green popup informed him, Critical HP.

A moment later, a second popup joined the first. Contracted Disease. All stats -1 until Disease is cured.

Come on, come on! Vivian cast a hopeful look at the cloaked man in the corner, but he continued to sit darkly, ignoring the battle in the bar.

Vivian pressed his lips together. He sucked in a breath and hurtled for the door, hopping a table on his way out. The bar bros smashed through the table, and the bartender gave chase, nimbly dodging through her bar.

Wonder what that skill is called, that is, the motion-skill for bars. [Barhopping], maybe?

Don’t get distracted, Viv! He raced for the door and flew out into the night. Cool darkness closed in around him. Looking over his shoulder, he held his breath. Come on. I’ve escaped, right?

With an earth-shattering bam!, the bar bros and the bartender chased him through the door. Vivian scowled. Couldn’t be that easy, huh?

He turned around just in time to see the corner of a building rushing up at him. He dug in his heels, but too late. Vivian struck the wall and recoiled. -1 HP floated up in his vision.

Red clouded in. Vivian’s body went weak, and he wobbled where he stood. His legs gave out, and he fell. His vision faded as the bartender and the bar bros closed in on him.

Motherfucker. Is this what I die from? Running into a wall? After all I’ve gone through…

Vaugely, he felt someone grab him and drag him backward. He clutched at the cobbles, but his hands lacked the power to fight back.

“Come here, little kitty. We’ll have cat for dinner tonight,” one of the bar bros crooned.

…

…

Skttt. Skttt.

A steel rake passed over thin grass, over and over. Rose clippings gathered in a pile. Again, Vivian raised the rake, then paused. He blinked slowly. I… something… there’s something… I—

Everything came rushing back. The bar. The secret cannibal room in the back. The bar bros and the bartender with her butcher’s knife.

Vivian jolted upright. “That’s right! All I wanted was some soup, and instead, I—” he scowled. “I became the soup!”

He reached behind him. His hand closed on nothing.

What? My clippers… they aren’t there? Where are they?

No, wait. Let’s be logical here, Vivian. If I died in the town… the clippers are on my body, aren’t they? Which means… he swallowed. They’re probably locked in the cannibal room, behind the secret boss.

Well, shit.

Come to think of it, what else did I lose with my death? He raised his hand. “Status.”

Name: Vivian | Age: 21 | Sex: M | Level: 1

Role: [Gardener] [NPC]

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

[Status]

HP: 10/10

SP: 5/5

STR: 5

MAG: 1

SKL: 7

SPD: 7

MDEF: 5

DEF: 5

[Skills]

[Gardener Tool Proficiency] [LOCKED] Lvl 1

[Rake] Lvl 1

Vivian blinked. My five precious levels! My skills! And where did this [Rake] skill come from? What happened to [Trim]?

He frowned. So… I guess I respawn, now. But then, all the other times, I respawned with my…

No, thinking about it, I had to pick up the clippers every time I stepped out of the bushes. But there were no clippers to pick up, this time, since I left them in town. So… where did this rake come from? He pursed his lips and looked around. There has to be a shed of tools somewhere in this hedge maze. Somewhere!

Vivian stood up straight, thumping the tines of his rake on the ground. “I respawn. That’s nice, but… there’s still a lot of detriments from being an NPC. I can’t equip real gear, and resetting to level one when I respawn… Yeah, I still think that exit gate is my best chance.”

He looked up. The foggy, gray sky of the Garden of Lost Souls appeared the same as ever.

It’s day now, probably. Let’s take another try at the exit gate!

Putting the rake over one shoulder, Vivian wound his way through the garden, humming under his breath. Green light colored the bushes. He jolted to a halt and quickly went back to raking, pretending not to notice. Just an NPC… leave me be…

A young girl with tight-curled black hair drifted by, her nightrobe drifting on a wind only she could feel. Her round eyes and cherubic cheeks made her almost doll-like. Her sad gaze wandered past Vivian, and she floated on, lost forever in the garden.

Vivian straightened as soon as she passed, tucking the rake on his shoulder again. There we go. It must be day, since the Lost Ones aren’t in aggro mode.

This time, he took special care to mark his location and route as he walked. I’m definitely in a different part of the garden than before, but if I keep respawning here, I’ll eventually map this whole place out. On and on, twisting through the maze, until he finally stepped out onto the road.

Far off to his left, a lonely toll rang out from Belltower Heights. Vivian glanced at it, biting his lip. Belltower Heights is closer than the Starter Town… but it’s higher level, too, and doesn’t have an exit gate. I need to avoid it at all costs!

Even the Starter Town, though… The memories of the bar flashed through his mind again, and Vivian shook his head. A second later, he jolted upright. “Wait, hold on. Bartenders can equip butcher’s knives without detriments? Or is that… is that something a cannibal can do? Or maybe it’s because she’s a hidden boss?”

He raised a hand to his chin, thoughtful. “If I can expand my class, or get cross-class skills through Traits or achievements of some sort… It’s worth looking into.”

I’m not about to start eating human flesh, but there’s easier Traits to pick up than [Cannibal]. But then—

No, no, Vi. Stop thinking like this! I’m not a Climber any more. I’m just an ordinary human, trying to leave this damned Tower! It’s too dangerous out here for an NPC like me, and there’s no one to hand me a sword and tell me to ‘take this!’

Whistling to himself, he wandered on, back to the Starter Town. The foggy haze faded as he left the Garden behind. Players walked past him, heading out to richer pastures. A few cast him confused glances, but no one went out of their way to talk to him.

Sunlight drifted down on the hunting ground, illuminating the Pigbeasts. Most of the Pigbeasts faced down Players, the hunting ground full to the bursting. Vivian yawned, wandering by. That’s the low-level hunting ground for you. It’s near impossible to actually level there during the day… there’s just too many Players.

After a moment, he sped up to a jog. At that, one or two of the Players looked at him funny, but he paid them no mind. “Come on…”

[Tiptoe Through the Tulips] Lvl 1

“Excellent,” he said, grinning. Without the armored slime chasing him, the skill seemed less useless. His lighter feet led the way through the grasslands. He hurried to the Starter Town, taking the front gate this time.

Villagers wandered around the streets, carrying bundles of vegetables and materials. Shopkeepers called from their shops, wares proudly displayed in their windows and in bins by the front. The bartender stood by the front of her inn, beckoning to passing Players.

Vivian narrowed his eyes at her. I know what you’re up to. You’re recruiting dinner, aren’t you?

That’s none of my business, though. I’m here to get out! Ignoring them all, he made a beeline for the exit gate.

In the center of the medievalesque town, a beam of white light shot up from a pure white building. A white door blocked off the gate itself.

Vivian walked over and grabbed the door. The door didn’t budge, firmly locked. Confused, he yanked it again, then again. The door remained shut.

“What? Come on. I’m a real boy, I swear,” Vivian grumbled.

“Er, excuse me,” a timid voice said from behind him.

Vivian released the handle and turned. A younger Player stood behind him, clutching tight to a healing staff. He looked at Vivian. “What’s the problem?”

“I can’t open this door!” Vivian complained.

The younger Player nodded. He turned the knob and opened the door. “There you go.”

White light spilled out. Brilliant white filled the whole room, such that only its vague dimensions were visible.

“Oh. Thanks,” Vivian said. He stepped forward.

His face slammed into an invisible wall. He bounced backward. Scowling, Vivian rubbed his nose. “What the hell?”

“Uhm, NPCs can’t leave the Tower,” the young Player informed him kindly.

“I’m not an NPC,” Vivian told him.

The young Player squinted at him. “You are, though.”

“Ignore my Status, dammit. I’m not really an NPC.”

“Uh huh,” the young Player returned, nodding.

Vivian rubbed his forehead, suddenly exhausted. Ugh. Whatever. “Fine. If I’m an NPC, then get me some clippers.” I could use a new pair… though I should probably just crawl back to cannibal-lady’s larder and grab my old pair. I’ve got a lot of loot back there.

The young Player’s eyes lit up. “A quest! What are the rewards?”

Vivian licked his lips. Inventory.

[Inventory]

Rake

Common Black Clothes

He looked at the young Player out of the corner of his eyes. “My undying loyalty and eternal gratitude.”

The young Player frowned at him. “You’ll… join my party? Is that what that means?”

“Uh… you know what, sure. I’ll join your party for one quest if you get me a pair of clippers,” Vivian said, nodding. I’m a level one Gardener NPC. No one would agree to that.

“Okay!” the young Player said, nodding. He ran off.

Vivian blinked after him. Seriously? Well… I guess… whatever works. If I get a pair of clippers out of the bargain, I win. Worst case, I have to follow this kid on some low-level quest, but what the hell. I’m low level. It’s no big deal.

Wait, come to think of it… I’m an NPC. I can… give quests! Vivian’s eyes lit up, only to fade a second later. Not everyone’s like that kid. There’s very few people who are going to want to help me in return for a Level 1 NPC’s power. I need to get some things to trade them for first, before I start handing out quests. Even if I want to do some kind of shitty chain fetch quest, I need to have Gold or something to hand out at the end, or the Players will kill me out of frustration.

Gotta spend money to make money… Ain’t that the way the world is.

He looked at the exit gate one last time, then sighed. “So much for that.”

I can’t leave through the exit gate. What now?