As the night grew darker, a door opened. A woman passed through the door, her face destroyed by fatigue. Her eyes, dark and filled with bags, managed to sit down on a small chair, placing her hands on her face before finally going to take a shower. Then she got dressed and sat at a table covered with numerous papers:
In the deep darkness of the night, a creaky old door slowly opened. A silhouette appeared in the doorway: it was a woman, exhausted, her face showing undeniable signs of fatigue. Her eyes were filled with dark circles forming like bags. She crossed the threshold with difficulty, her movements heavy and hesitant. The room was dimly lit by a single bulb, but she slowly made her way to a small wooden chair, worn down by time, and collapsed onto it with a sigh filled with pain.
Her trembling hands reached for her face, gently massaging her temples in a gesture of mute despair. After a moment suspended in time, she rose with effort, dragging her feet to the bathroom. The shower water flowed over her like tears, trying to wash away her fatigue.
Then she returned to the main room, where she sat at a worn wooden table piled high with countless papers. Bills, letters, hastily scribbled notes—each sheet telling a story, a fragment of life. She immersed herself in them, her fatigue temporarily forgotten as her fingers traced the lines of text:
< Late on rent, late on water and electricity payments. Eviction notice in 3 months. >
"I can't take it anymore." she whispered as tears began to fall.
Her words floated into the air, fragile and heavy with meaning. Tears, long held back, began to silently stream down her pale cheeks, glistening faintly in the lamp's light.
Yet, in the midst of this despair, something caught her eye. Lifting her head with effort, her moist eyes fell upon several photo frames carefully arranged on a dusty shelf. Each frame captured a moment, a memory, a beloved face. Among them, one in particular held her attention: it was a photo of the person she cherished most in the world.
In this image, frozen in time, was a sincere smile and eyes filled with affection, looking at her through the glass. This face, carrying unconditional love, reminded her of happier days, memories tinged with joy and carefreeness. Despite the pain and exhaustion, a faint smile formed on her lips. The tears continued to flow, but they were now mixed with a gentle nostalgia and a renewed resolve.
"Don't give up, he relies on you. Even in the darkest night, light can break through."
She opened the fridge and took out a small yogurt, which she began to eat hastily as her phone started to vibrate.
"Ahh, I go back to work in 15 minutes." she sighed, exhausted.
A small voice called out to her:
"You're going to work again, big sister? You haven't slept well for days. Please take at least a small break," asked a young boy.
"No, I can't. Go back to bed and don't worry, I'm fine." she said, kissing his forehead tenderly.
"Okay." he said, going back to bed.
"Good night, Logan. I love you." she said, heading back to work once more.
Pov Logan
As I slowly came back to myself, emerging from the depths of a distant memory, I started to think:
"To support us, my sister had embraced a labyrinth of jobs, losing herself in it day after day. She had voluntarily chained herself to this life of incessant labor, becoming, unbeknownst to her, a slave to a ruthless system. Money, the imperious demands, and the coldness of the world had captured her. But in her eyes, I saw a different spark, that of unconditional love for me. It was a choice, her sacrifice, to spare me from suffering. She consumed herself, undermining her health, brick by brick, while I stood there, a prisoner of my own helplessness, a silent witness to her suffering. No one should be enslaved, neither by money nor by human cruelty. Freedom is everyone's right, but she had traded it for me." I thought, holding my head in my hands.
And as these thoughts assailed me, the memory of my sister's smile, once radiant but now dimmed, haunted me like a bittersweet ghost of what she had once been. In this world, I felt strangely invested with a new mission, as I had promised on my sister's grave never to close my eyes again.
"If someone tries to take my freedom, I will steal theirs without any compassion or pity. But here, I must return freedom to the oppressed and take it from the oppressors!" I said with a determined look.
Now fully awake, I headed towards the guild. As I walked through the door, a sudden silence fell, and all eyes turned towards me, piercing and curious.
"Well, it looks like all the attention is on me." I murmured, a smirk betraying my amusement at this sudden notoriety.
"After what you did yesterday, it's quite normal. Completing 100 quests in one day, and alone no less? You have to tell me your secret!" retorted Marie, approaching me with a mischievous smile.
I let out a brief laugh, hiding behind a mask of nonchalance:
"Keep dreaming." I replied, dodging her request with feigned lightness.
"You are so secretive." she declared with a laugh.
"Well, well, if it isn't Red." said Alfred as he arrived with his group.
"Red?" (Logan)
"It's the nickname you've been given after what you did yesterday. You're impressive, you know. You just arrived and you're already achieving feats." He said, placing his hand on my shoulder.
"I won't join you, I've already told you that." I said, slightly irritated.
"Okay, okay, but would you like to join us on a mission?" (Alfred)
"What kind of mission?" (Logan)
"A C-rank mission. A village was recently attacked by monsters, and we need to eliminate them." (Alfred)
"What kind of monsters are they?" I asked, curious.
"High Orcs, their levels are around 45." (Alfred)
"But isn't it forbidden to take quests two ranks above one's own?" (Logan)
"If the team leader has the required level, it is tolerated to some extent." (Alfred)
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"What is the reward?" (Logan)
"20 silver coins each." (Alfred)
"Alright, I'll participate." (Logan)
I could not ignore such a sum of money, so I quickly accepted the proposal.
"In that case, meet here tomorrow morning." (Alfred)
Alfred left with his men on these words, leaving me alone with Marie again.
"Be careful with him." she whispered to me.
"I am already wary, but maybe you can tell me more if you're warning me about him?" I asked with interest.
"He has taken newcomers with him before, and some never returned. He has earned the nickname 'noobkiller' because of it." (Marie)
"Never returned?"
"He comes back saying the mission went wrong or that the newcomer didn't follow his orders and consequently got killed by the monsters." (Marie)
"I see, thanks for the info." (Logan)
"You're welcome." (Marie)
I finally left the guild, pocketing the money for my deeds from the previous day.
"In total, with these 100 quests, I was able to obtain 1 gold coin. I will buy some equipment, and it is time to use my encyclopedic skill." (Logan)
Guided by Marie's directions, I headed towards specialized shops hidden in the bowels of the city. This walk marked my first real urban exploration, a stark contrast to my usual straight path from my inn to the guild. When I arrived in this city, I had been too absorbed in my thoughts to really observe my surroundings.
The shops were bustling with activity, voices rose in a mix of dialects, and the smells of local dishes floated in the air. I observed people going about their business, some in a hurry, others taking their time to savor the moment.
It was a world very different from the one I had known so far, a complex fabric of lives intertwining, forming the beating heart of this city. Each step revealed an aspect of this city previously unknown to me, each street corner a new scene, a new story.
And above all, I saw the most horrifying details, my eyes opening to the insidious details I had previously ignored. Slave traders displaying their merchandise shamelessly, beast girls locked in cages like trophies. The cages, too small and overflowing with young girls of various races, reduced to livestock, mere objects of commerce. Their eyes, filled with despair and suffering, told stories of broken lives and shattered dreams.
The conditions in which these souls were kept were beyond atrocious, they were inhumane. Crowded together in cramped cages, they seemed deprived of any hope of escape or relief. Their restricted space didn't allow them to move freely, condemning each of their movements to be a painful reminder of their captivity.
Their bodies told stories of suffering and neglect. Each scar, each bruise on their skin was a silent testimony to the brutality and negligence they had endured. These marks, visible and cruel, were the stigmas of a daily life filled with abuse and pain.
Their clothes, torn and soiled, offered them no protection or dignity. These scraps of fabric, barely sufficient to cover their bodies, accentuated their vulnerability and humiliation. The state of their clothing reflected the total disregard their captors had for their well-being and humanity.
Seeing these scenes, my heart tightened with deep sadness and anger. The contrast between their miserable state and the indifference of the passersby was striking. Every detail of their miserable condition haunted me, but in this world, it was something perfectly normal. I had read in the guild's books the stories proclaiming the superiority of the human race, ruthlessly crushing other races.
Suddenly, a beast girl, stumbling, fell heavily to my right. She knocked over a multitude of boxes filled with various objects, scattering their contents on the cobblestone ground. Her gaze betrayed a mix of fear and resignation, an image that deeply affected me.
"You bitch!" said a man, raising his hand with the intention of hitting her.
But, in a movement as sudden as unexpected, his arm was stopped in mid-air. Surprise painted his face, an expression of confusion and disbelief. The arm, suspended in the air, was firmly grasped by my hand.
The passersby, who until then had been passive spectators, had stopped, their eyes riveted on this unexpected scene.
"What the...?" (Man)
"Are you alright?" I asked, examining the girl.
The girl on the ground was strikingly beautiful, with a bright white fur despite the circumstances, a delicate little tail, and magnificent white ears that contrasted with her vulnerability. But what stood out the most was the sight of blood staining her skin and the numerous wounds marring her fragile body. These marks of extreme violence awakened in me a thirst for blood, a burning desire for justice, directed with intense fury at this man. How could I tolerate such barbarity?
My eyes, glowing an intense red, fixed the man with barely contained fury, as if I could devour him with just my gaze. He recoiled, terrified, losing his balance and falling backward. His face paled, his breath caught, and sweat began to trickle down his forehead, a testament to his sudden and deep fear. Slowly extending my hand toward him, I had only one desire in mind, to make him pay for his unforgivable act.
But then, just as I was about to act, I felt a hand gently tugging at my clothes, bringing me back to reality.
"It's okay, don't worry, sir..." (Beast girl)
"But..." (Logan)
"You'll only get yourself in trouble, and besides, everyone is watching us." the girl said.
Looking around, I saw that all eyes were on us. And this scene had not escaped a certain person's notice. Forced by this realization, I made the difficult decision to resume my walk, my heart heavy.
Barely had I taken a few steps when cries of pain tore through the air. The girl, once again a victim of her attacker's brutality, was now suffering partly because of my inaction. Each blow landed echoed painfully within me, awakening acute guilt.
I bit my lip until it bled, desperately struggling to contain the storm of my emotions, to ignore the cries that haunted me. However, what I hadn't realized was that my eyes were glowing a bright red, reflecting the fury and helplessness consuming me from within.
"Tell me, how much for the beast girl?" a man asked. (???)
As dusk enveloped the city in its orange hues, I concluded my busy day. The purchases I had set out to make were finally complete: pieces of supple leather, fabrics of various textures, sturdy thread, and a few carefully chosen metal plates. In my bag, there was also some wolf skin, a remnant of my past hunts.
I stopped for a moment, closed my eyes, and murmured a single word, like a call to an old companion:
"Encyclopedia." (Logan)
At that moment, a flood of information began to flow into my brain. It was as if a long-closed door suddenly opened, releasing a torrent of accumulated knowledge. Images, texts, formulas, and theories from my former world flashed through my mind with dazzling clarity. Each piece of knowledge seemed to fit perfectly with the others, forming a complex and fascinating mosaic. Then I found what I was looking for.
"This is what I was looking for, the creation of a light armor with my own style." (Logan)
In addition to the encyclopedia of knowledge, I had called upon another remarkable faculty of my mind: ultra-fast learning. This extraordinary learning ability allowed me to quickly absorb the techniques of sewing and tailoring. In the blink of an eye, I mastered skills that would normally take years of practice and study. My fingers seemed to dance naturally with the needle and thread, creating textile works of art with surprising ease.
"I've obtained an interesting skill, so I can probably get more." I said, finishing my work.
The creation that resulted was an outfit that perfectly combined functionality and aesthetics. It was light, designed not to hinder movement, but also solid to protect me, a necessity in the dangerous and unpredictable world I found myself in. The style was clearly inspired by my former world, with a modern touch: it featured a hood, providing both shelter from the elements and a certain anonymity.
"Well, this is exactly what I wanted to achieve, having access to all the knowledge from my former world is a real plus." I murmured, examining my work.
I was fascinated by how my memories and skills had materialized in this outfit. Finally, aware of the late hour, I decided it was time to rest.
"Well, it's late, time to sleep." I declared, lying down in my bed.
The fatigue of the day fell upon me, and I quickly fell asleep, plunging into a restorative sleep.
The next day, rejuvenated, I headed towards the guild. There, I found Alfred's group, gathered and ready for our mission. However, a surprise awaited me. Among them stood a familiar figure, carrying bags. It was the beast girl I had met the previous day. Her sudden and unexpected appearance took me by surprise.
"What are you doing here?" (Logan)
Name: Logan
Race: Human / Age: 18
Profession: Avenger- ??? /
Titles:
* Goblin Exterminator
* Merciless
* Sharpshooter
* Insatiable