Another day, another job.

Sigh…

Can you even call this a game? I mean, really. When they sent me that email hyping up some overhyped VR game, I thought, sure, why not? The thrill of conquering games after games? That’s how I make a living.

But this? This is something else. And not in a good way.

“Your pay for this job will be 1 denar.” The staff at the mercenary guild said, handing over my reward as I tossed a freshly caught monster onto their counter. One denar, how great…

Sigh…

Helper, Mercenary—what’s the difference, anyway? None, that’s what. It’s all grinding, no endgame. If I’d known this so-called “game” would just be a low-res imitation of real life, I’d have hit delete the moment that email landed in my inbox.

Nine years. Nine. Long. Fucking. Years. Stuck in this world. I’ve been here since I was a baby, forced into monster hunting like it’s some medieval after-school activity. No games. No entertainment. No escape.

I miss everything. My Midkiddo Wish, my Gaby Gear and my Bobstation 5… all gone. Do you know what it’s like to live without a gaming console? They trapped me in this game world but it’s just another real life to live. What cruel and awful punishment is this?

And don’t even get me started on the world-building. This place? It’s nothing like the masterpiece game worlds, like the Maiden Ring. No epic boss fight, no SSS-tier stat systems, no OP builds system. Just… mundane survival. What the fuck could I even do here? How the heck can I speedrun this whole shit.

No clear plot, no divine prophecy, not even a status window. It’s like they modeled it after reality.

Sigh…

Whatever. I’ll figure something out. Maybe.

Oh, and by the way? The food here? Absolute garbage.

I’d trade my left arm for a cheeseburger and coke right now.

* * *

“Hey R. Taking another job again?” an old man called out from his seat at a battered wooden table, his voice warm but weary as he watched the young boy approach.

Sigh…

“Hey, R. Taking. AnOtheR. JoB. AgAiN?” the boy parroted back mockingly, rolling his eyes. “What do you think I’m here for, old man?

“Now, now, no need to be so grumpy.” The old man said, standing and moving closer, his hands raised in a gesture of peace. “Come on, try to smile a little. It won’t kill you.”

The boy responded with a deadpan stare that screamed seriousy?.

“Hah! You should count yourself lucky he even talks to you!” a booming voice cut in. A bald, burly man sitting across the room grinned as he joined the conversation. “That brat won’t even look my way most of the time. Oh, this poor old soul. How could you treat me like this, R?” his exaggerated theatrics drew chuckles from a few nearby mercenaries.

R’s eyes narrowed, and he shot the bald man a glare sharp enough to cut steel.

“Wooo, I’m trembling.” The bald man taunted, throwing up his hands dramatically. “What are you gonna do, tough guy?”

“Wanna take this outside, baldy?” R growled, his temper slipping.

“Enough, both of you!” the old man barked, stepping between them. “And you, Baldric, quit riling him up.”

R smirked, the hint of a mischievous glint in his eye. “Maybe this time I won’t just stop at just taking your hair.”

Baldric’s grin faltered, his face flushing red. “Grrr… You brat! If I’d known you’ve awaken your color, I’d not have gone easy on you.”

“You were destined to be bald. Bald-ric.” R’s voice dripped with sarcasm, and a few snickers echoed in the room.

“You’re dead, brat!” Baldric bellowed, lunging forward, only to be held back by two other mercenaries.

“Woahhh! Fight! Fight! Fight!” the guild erupted in a chorus of cheers and laughter.

“I’ll bet on R!” someone shouted.

“Nah, Baldric’s got it this time,” another chimed in, snickering. “He’ll win the fight to get even balder!”

“Remember when R made Baldric shave his head and run naked through the city? I wonder what he’ll make him do this time!” another added, doubling over with laughter.

“R! R! R!” the chants grew louder, the mercenaries gleefully egging on the chaos.

“Alright, that’s enough boys!” the old man’s voice cut through the noise, silencing the room. “R isn’t fighting anyone today.”

The boy clicked his tongue, crossing his arms, while Baldric grumbled under his breath.

Turning serious, the old man placed a hand on R’s shoulder. “Listen, kid. There’s been talk of children—kids you age… going missing lately. It’s been happening around the city and villages nearby. I know you’re strong, but maybe it’s time to take a little break from jobs, yeah?”

R let out a long sigh, his shoulders slumping. “Fine…” he muttered, though his tone carried reluctance.

“You’ll pay me for my break, yeah?” he added furrowing his eyebrows.

The old man winced. “Agh… that’s quite hard… you know life’s hard for us mercenaries these days.”

“Then I won’t stop taking jobs.” R replied flatly, starting to turn away.

“Wait, wait, wait! Look I’ll cut you a deal,” the old man said quickly. “Everything you eat and drink here? On the house. You’re like family to us, right?” as he gestured towards all the mercenaries around.

“Yeah, kid! We’ve got your back!” a mercenary chimed in.

“Hell, I’ll even pitch in for fancy food outside—if you humiliate Baldric again!” another hollered, doubling the room’s laughter.

“You son of a—!” Baldric barked, only to be drowned out by the crowd’s cheers.

The boy glanced around at the lively chaos, the faintest flicker of a smile tugging at his lips. It faded just as quickly, but the old man noticed.

“See? Everyone here’s got your back. Well, maybe not Baldric,” the old man chuckled. “But take it easy, kiddo. We all care about you.”

R sighed again, shaking his head. “Fine, just cut Baldric’s pays and we got a deal.”

The guild erupted into laughter once more as Baldric protested loudly, and for a moment, the heavy air in the room lightened.

* * *

The young boy, R, sat quietly, recalling that day he first entered this game world.

“Sorry child.” The woman murmured. Her voice was soft but trembling, burdened with guilt. She gently placed the swaddled baby near the mercenary guild’s entrance, her hands lingering for just a moment before pulling away. She stared down at the child, her heart heavy.

“…maybe they’ll keep you alive.” She whispered, her tears falling silently as she turned and disappeared into the cold, uncaring streets.

Morning came with the distant clang of swords and raucous laughter from the guild. The heavy door creaked open, and an old man shuffled outside. His grizzled face scrunched in irritation as he spotted the bundle on the steps.

“Oh Almighty Lord… not this again.” He groaned, rubbing his temple. Stooping down, he scooped up the baby. “Who keeps leaving these brats here? We’re mercenaries, not a damn orphanage!”

But something about this baby stopped him mid-rant. The child stared at him with a blank, almost disinterested gaze—no crying, no wailing, not even a flinch.

“…Huh?” the old man muttered, raising an eyebrow. He tried pulling faces to entertain the child.

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“Awww chak! Boo boo boo!” he cooed, contorting his grizzled features in ridiculous ways. The baby didn’t so much as blink, his tiny face radiating apathy. Instead, he let out a small yawn.

“Well, aren’t you just a ray of sunshine.” The old man muttered sarcastically. Cradling the baby awkwardly, he headed back inside.

“Another one, Chief?” a burly mercenary called out as the old man entered with the baby.

“Yeah, what is this, the fourth this year?” another chimed in.

“Sigh… not again.” Cecil, a weary staff member at the guild, muttered from behind the counter.

“Sorry to trouble you, Cecil.” The old man grumbled. “Guess we’re putting out another job notice for adoption, huh?”

But the old man hesitated, glancing down at the baby. There was something odd about this one. “Wait,” he said. “Before we do that… can you try and make this kid react to something? Anything.”

Cecil raised an eyebrow but nodded. Soon, the entire guild gathered to take their turn.

For hours, the rough-and-tumble mercenaries tried everything: juggling knives, performing clumsy acrobatics, balancing swords on their heads. The yelled, danced, and even brought out a trained wolf to perform tricks. Nothing worked.

The baby simply sighed at them, his tiny face oozing boredom.

“He’s mocking us…” one mercenary muttered, clutching his chest like he’d been shot.

“This kid’s harder to crack than the Chiefs!” another groaned.

As frustration turned to determination, someone shouted, “Let’s make it a contest!” Denar coins clicked on tables as bets poured in.

“Whoever makes this baby laugh or smile takes all the denar!” the old man bellowed, holding the baby aloft like a trophy.

“Wooooooahhh!” cheers erupted as the guild’s best jokesters, strongmen, and pranksters entered the fray.

Yet, despite their efforts, the baby remained stone-face. Finally, after hours of fruitless attempts, he let out a tiny yawn and drifted off to sleep.

The sight of the tiny figure, peacefully dozing in the middle of the rowdy guild, brought an unexpected hush to the room.

“So… cute…” one mercenary whispered, breaking the silence.

“Shut up! You’ll wake him!” the old man hissed, glaring daggers.

“Sorry…” the loud mercenary whispered sheepishly, shrinking back. But the guild crowded closer, staring in awe at the sleeping child. Their rough exteriors melted, replaced by warm smiles and gentle chuckles.

The old man, watching from the edge of the group, felt a strange tug in his chest. He’d lived a life of blood and battle. A mercenary’s creed was to avoid attachments; families were a taboo. A sin for someone whose bound to die early. But as he gazed down at the baby, something shifted.

“Perhaps… this is fate.” He murmured to himself. “I’m old now too… but maybe… just maybe…”

“Chief.” A mercenary said, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “We all feel the same way.”

“If you didn’t take him, one of us would’ve.” Another chimed in.

“Yeah! This taboo? It’s ours now!” One shouted.

The room erupted into laughter, their camaraderie filling the air.

“Shhh!” someone scolded, pointing at the baby.

The room’s quiet was broken by a sharp gasp. “The baby’s smiling!” someone cried.

The guild erupted into cheers and laughter, some even tearing up at the sight of the baby’s faint, serene smile.

“He’s mocking us, isn’t he?” one mercenary said, wiping his eyes. The room exploded with laughter.

Years later, R smirked to himself, watching the same idiots who once fought to make him smile.

For all their rowdiness and antics, the guild was his family now. The youngest among them, he carried the weight of their high hopes. They saw greatness in him, but R knew better than anyone that this world wasn’t kind to anyone. He’d known that truth since the day he was abandoned to their doorstep.

“Sigh… you worry too much, old man.” He muttered, running a hand through his hair as he sat slouched at the guild’s corner table.

“So… you’ll take a break?” the old man asked again, hope glimmering in his weathered eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. Shut up already.” R replied, his tone sharp but not unkind.

The old man sighed with relief, a small smile tugging at his lips.

R leaned back, letting his gaze wander. Near the doorway, Baldric was slipping out of the guild, his movements uncharacteristically cautious. The loudest and the most obnoxious of them all, was sneaking?

R’s eyes narrowed.

* * *

To be honest, I have no problem taking breaks.

The moment these disappearance cases first happened, they caught my attention faster than anyone else would.

I’ve got a few suspects in mind, but something tells me this isn’t as simple as pinning it all on one culprit and calling it a day.

Like the Helper’s Guild, Mercenaries Guild take on jobs like investigations too. The difference? Well, let’s just say the average IQ around here isn’t doing any favors. Don’t expect much when it comes to solving complex cases.

Sigh…

It’s not like I have anything better to do anyway. Might as well figure out where I stand first.

This is the Slyveria Kingdom—a forest kingdom. There’s no shortage of trees here; forests stretch as far as the eye can see.

Majority of the people here awaken the green color, granting them abilities to control nature or whatever.

The city I’m currently stuck in is called Ligmavallum… or something like that. Basically, it’s a city surrounded by huge walls made of wood.

This place serves as the kingdom’s frontline defense. Beyond those massive wooden walls lies a world filled with dangerous monsters—and, supposedly, other kingdoms or perhaps an empires.

Sigh…

I should be out there exploring this world by now. But guess what? They won’t let me beyond the wall because I’m “underage.”

Can you believe it? Maybe somewhere out there is a nation that’s more advanced, with cities and tech that are more modern than the world I came from.

Living here? Boring.

Well if those didn’t exist, then I’d be just focusing on finding a way back to the the real world.

“Let’s see…” I mutter, assessing the city for now.

Most of the buildings here are made of wood. It’s like this place is begging to be burned down. But apparently, the wood they use is fire-resistant. How that works? Who knows.

Mercenaries and guards patrol the streets regularly, making it hard for criminals to pull off kidnappings.

Getting past the wooden wall is another story. Everything is thoroughly checked, and bribery? Forget it.

You might get somewhere bribing a mercenary, but the soldiers? No chance. The lord of this city has a reputation for being strict.

Unless…

Unless that’s just what they want people to believe.

Still, I’m stuck here. I promised the old old man I wouldn’t leave the city. And knowing him, he’s probably got someone keeping an eye on me.

Sigh…

I can already see those idiots watching me.

The streets were unusually quiet, with only a few children playing around, their laughter cutting through the dense atmosphere.

It didn’t last long. Soon, some guards appeared, scolding them to head home. Most of the citizens were still on edge because of the disappearances case.

I decided to follow the children, just to make sure they actually went home.

One of them, a little girl, seemed to live farther than the others. She split from the group, so I followed her discreetly. Unfortunately, I wasn’t the only one trailing her—some idiots had decided to tag along behind me.

Something felt… off.

The route she took didn’t seem right. It was repetitive, looping through the alleys that should have led to a house if I remembered correctly. But instead, we kept circling back.

Strangely, the presence of those idiots behind me had vanished too.

Finally, I called out to the girl.

“Hey, kid.”

She stopped, turning to face me, scratching her head in confusion. She clearly had no idea where she was.

“You’re a mwercenwary, right?” she said, pointing at me with a small finger, her voice laced with the lisp of a six-year-old.

“What are you doing out here?” I asked.

“I’m lost… wahhh… wahhh…” she suddenly burst into tears, realizing she couldn’t find her way home.

Sigh…

“Don’t cry.” I said.

“Wahhh! Wahhhh! Wahhhhhh!” her cries only grew louder, echoing through the alley.

“Ugh… this is so annoying…” I muttered under my breath.

That’s when I felt it—presences around us, faint but unmistakable.

“Shhh…” I crouched down, gesturing for her to quiet down as I scanned the area.

The air grew heavier, and soon, a thick fog began creeping in, swallowing the surroundings.

I grabbed the girl’s hand, holding it tightly to keep her close.

She stopped crying, her little fingers clinging to mine as silence settled over us.

* * *

The young boy could feel the sinister presences lurking within the fog, their intent palpable.

“What do you want?” he asked, his voice calm but directed at the figure hiding beneath the thick fog.

“…”

Silence. No response.

Suddenly, the little girl he was holding collapsed, her small frame going limp as if she had fallen asleep.

“I see… so you’ve chosen the hard way.” The boy muttered.

In an instant, his appearance shifted. His tattered cloak fluttered as he revealed his mercenary gear—a collection of tools and weapons strapped securely beneath it.

His eyes began to glow a vivid violet, and without warning, both he and the girl vanished into the fog.

Painful screams erupted one after another, echoing through the thick mist.

The hunters had become the hunted.

One of the hidden figures panicked, his breathing ragged as the realization set in. They were supposed to be the predators, yet now they were the prey.

“Show yourself! Where are you?!” he shouted, fear overtaking him.

But before he could do anything more, blood flowed from his neck, and he fell lifelessly to the ground staining the earth.

As the fog cleared completely, the boy and the girl reappeared, unharmed.

The mercenaries who had been tailing the boy froze in shock. Blood was everywhere, pooling around bodies they hadn’t even noticed before. One by one, the corpses fell, lifeless.

“Tell the chiefs: they used the fog formation to kidnap children,” The boy commanded sharply, his tone leaving no room for argument. “It’s a white awakener with teleportation abilities.”

“O-okay…” stammered one of the mercenaries panicking as he rushed to report to the old man.

The commotion stirred the girl awake. She blinked groggily, but before she could fully process her surroundings, the boy placed a hand over her eyes.

“Don’t look,” he said firmly, shielding her from the gruesome scene.

“You!” he pointed at another mercenary. “Take this kid home.”

The mercenary hesitated, pointing at himself. “M-me?”

“Who else, you idiot?” the boy snapped. “I need to examine the bodies. And make sure she doesn’t see this.”

“Y-yes!” the mercenary carefully took the girl, covering her eyes as he led her away.

“Tell me da way.” The mercenary asked the girl, fumbling awkwardly.

“How am I supposed to know da way? You’re covewing mai eyes.” The girl retorted with a huff.

“…Idiots.” The boy sighed, pressing a hand to his face in frustration.

Once they were gone, the boy turned his attention back to the bodies strewn across the ground. He crouched, scanning the scene.

“Twenty-one bodies. Just as I remember.” He carefully counted, ensuring none had survived.

To be thorough, he began examining the corpses.

“Hmm…” he muttered, narrowing his eyes as he studied the remains.

“Something’s off.”

He continued inspecting the bodies, frustration simmering beneath his calm exterior.

“Tch… if they were still alive, I could just read their minds through eye contact,” he muttered under his breath.

Before he could dwell further, the old man arrived, flanked by elite mercenaries and noble’s knights.

“We’ll take over from here, R.” The old man said, his tone both firm and reassuring. “Are you okay?”

R glanced at him, then back at the bodies. “Something’s wrong with their bodies, but I can’t put my finger on it.” He admitted.

“Well, they’re dead.” The old man quipped with a faint grin, trying to lighten the mood,

R shot him a flat, deadpan look. He wasn’t wrong, but still…

“It’s fine,” the old man continued, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “We’ll handle the bodies. Dissecting monsters is part of the job for mercenaries, and these kidnappers are no different.”

“…Sigh.” R gave up trying to explain further.

Even as the old man and the others took over, R couldn’t shake the unease lingering in his mind.

Something about all of this didn’t add up.