Chapter 2: I Want to Live (1)

The view from a low vantage point, showing the dilapidated back alleys and the market floor, was clear in its implications.

Even if you did well, you were just a commoner; if you were unlucky, an orphan.

However...

Looking at the tattered clothes with one sleeve missing, the dirty, emaciated body of a child, anyone could tell it was an orphan.

The filth and stench, which I had never experienced before, rose unpleasantly, clouding my mind.

Perhaps because being an orphan meant fighting for survival with every meal, I also felt a sense of weakness and lethargy.

These two negative factors combined to create a state where I felt as if I had woken up after a blackout from heavy drinking.

The first thing that clouded my confused mind was resentment.

I don't know what it means, but if you're going to let me enter the game without my consent, shouldn't you at least give me a decent character?

An orphan in the world... It was nothing but a cause for lament.

'At least... I have a high-level trait.'

I quickly ran my happiness circuit.

Calm down. Honestly, being an orphan with a high-level trait is better than a typical noble family. It means the high-level trait is that good.

Wait a moment.

Now that I think about it, I remember hearing before I lost consciousness that penalty traits would be randomly assigned.

Three of them, no less.

'What the hell.'

So, I was really scammed.

I thought the tutorial ending would be a benefit, but it wasn't. It was give and take. One high-level trait for one penalty trait.

'What the hell. I'm getting scammed in the game and in reality... or what is now reality.'

I can't call this reality, but it is now my reality.

No wonder I could press the creation button after choosing just one high-level trait.

I thought it was a system designed to make me play harder if I got tired later.

So, I didn't even bother to check.

My heart rate quickened.

This time, I didn't even curse out loud. The penalty traits were that serious.

Penalty traits are really diverse.

From mild to those that negate the benefits of high-level traits. There are no trivial ones; otherwise, they wouldn't be penalty traits.

My mind raced. I recalled the penalty traits I knew.

- Manaless

- Lunatic

- Cannibal

- Utterly Ignorant

- Perversion

- Heretic

- Cursed Body

It's not that I keep rerolling character creation for no reason. One wrong penalty trait can ruin everything.

Some block growth entirely, but the real problem is the forced nature.

Cannibal, perversion, and heretic—these desires must be satisfied, or your mental state will deteriorate. If it continues, the character will commit suicide.

If you fail to satisfy these desires, you might become a public enemy of the continent.

Since the game has become reality, those desires will likely apply to me.

I'm a person from the modern world. I don't want to engage in such behavior. I might not even be able to handle cannibalism.

'Really... If you give me a high-level trait, you should let me choose the penalty traits too.'

I complained inwardly, but it didn't change anything. If I'm lucky, I might get weakness or dullness; if not, serious health issues or cannibalism...

At least if it's a health issue, it might be offset by being a tough guy.

Please, just not cannibalism or perversion. I closed my eyes and prayed.

But how do I check my traits?

In the game, I could just click to see my talents, but I don't know how to do it now. Can I see them with my eyes?

Should I shout "Status Window"?

As I thought this, a translucent window appeared before my eyes.

-13 years old

The window didn't show much. Just my name, age, and traits.

It was simpler than in the game.

I didn't have major complaints. The game didn't show detailed stats either.

Additional information like mental state, family relations, and lineage was the end of it.

One reason the game was difficult was that you couldn't be sure who would win in a fight.

That's why I called it a game of probabilities.

Anyway, being 13 was a bit surprising, but that wasn't the main issue.

I focused on the trait section.

At that moment,

"Hey!"

Someone grabbed the back of my neck with a shout.

Turning my head in confusion, I saw a bearded, muscular man grinning at me.

"You little thief! You're in for it now."

The hand on my neck was rough.

If I had to describe my state of mind in one word, it would be "confused."

What's going on here?

I smiled innocently.

"Who are you?"

"Who am I? Who am I?"

The man's eyebrows seemed to rise to his hairline.

His eyes, round like in a cartoon, were terrifying.

"Has this little thief gone mad? Where's my money?"

Now that I think about it, he called me a "little thief" from the start.

Hmm...

It seems this body was stealing before I came.

Well, it's common for market orphans to pickpocket.

The problem is that I'm the thief now.

I was grabbed by the neck before I could even assess the situation.

"Are you sure you have the right person? I've never stolen anything."

"Huh, really. You little thief, you're lying without even blinking."

I spoke boldly, but the man sneered as if he found it unbelievable.

My words were true, but his weren't false either.

So, we were both in a frustrating situation.

Damn. I cursed the original owner of this body and thought hard.

A peaceful resolution seemed impossible, so there was only one option.

Escape.

But escaping by force from the muscular man's grip seemed difficult.

Suddenly, I remembered the wind, my unique trait.

Though weak, I could feel the wind was friendly.

Maybe my steps felt a bit lighter?

But I had other priorities besides the wind.

I focused on adapting to the situation and suppressing the discomfort from the filth and stench.

How do I use this?

As I thought, I felt I understood. The wind moved as I willed, slipping between the man's fingers.

The sudden fatigue and the wind creating a gentle space around me.

I spun my body.

Thud. The tattered collar stretched and then slipped out of the man's hand.

This is enough.

"Huh?"

The man's stupid exclamation tickled my ear. I pushed off the ground with my knees.

First...

Let's run.

* * *

I often saw this phrase in the game loading screen, a random message that I usually read without much thought.

It wasn't worth serious consideration, as this kind of game was common, and it sounded familiar.

But now.

The phrase suddenly came to mind because a literal disaster had befallen me.

Am I prepared to live in this game?

If I asked myself, I would definitely say no. Reality is much more comfortable.

Most people would agree unless it's a healing game.

But this isn't a healing game; it's a brutal and difficult game called Balhol.

"Hey, you! Aren't you going to stop?"

Just now, I was chased by a strange, muscular man without even a moment to think.

If caught, I would die.

Not literally, but the brutal look on his face promised a beating that would leave me crippled.

For a scrawny orphan to be beaten by such a large man would likely result in severe disability.

So, I gritted my teeth and ran.

Despite feeling weak from the hangover and the mental fatigue from using the wind, the survival instinct overcame it.

Of course, willpower alone doesn't solve everything.

The mental fatigue was significant, but the wind, my unique trait, was the biggest factor in my escape.

I could feel the wind brushing against my body.

The air resistance was smooth, and my legs felt light. The wind even gently pushed my back.

Of course, it was far from the level I had hoped for in the game.

'Well, can't be helped.'

It's the beginning of the game.

If you get a good character, you start as a knight with excellent combat skills, but now I'm an orphan.

Moreover, I'm 13. I'll probably have to grow gradually.

Still, the wind's effect is satisfying.

Just the fact that a 13-year-old orphan can escape from such a large man is impressive.

Of course, the large man was slow, and my small size made it easier to navigate through crowds.

As I turned a corner, a woman appeared. I dodged her, and a young man was behind her. I lightly bumped into him.

At that moment, my hand naturally slipped into the man's pocket.

"Sorry..."

I grabbed a wad of money without thinking. It seemed to be a habit from the orphan's body.

Hmm.

Should I try it?

"...!"

Before I finished thinking, my hand had already grabbed the money. I ran past the man.

I couldn't even explain why I did it. Was it really a habit?

There wasn't much time to think. I probably would have passed by if I had hesitated.

Well, let's think positively.

Money is always good, whether in a game or reality. As an orphan, I wouldn't have any.

I'm sorry to the man, but...

I have to survive first.

Being in someone else's body, my mind didn't feel like my own.

I glanced back. The man was shaking his arm, seemingly unaware. The muscular man was chasing me.

The distance was gradually increasing.

"You little brat! Stop!"

The scrawny man seemed to notice something and searched his pockets. He soon had a demonic look.

Oh no.

"Get him!"

The number of pursuers doubled. It wasn't my intention, but I had made a mistake. I felt a brief sense of defeat and pushed off the ground.

Looking back would slow me down, so I kept my eyes forward.

I could feel people's gazes.

Fortunately, there were no busybodies. In Korea, brave citizens might have joined the chase.

I turned a corner and entered an alley. The damp, musty smell hit my nose.

Homeless people lying on the ground glanced at me.

One of them tried to trip me.

No camaraderie. I cursed him in my mind and jumped over him. I wanted to punch him, but I didn't have the time.

Unlike the muscular man, the scrawny man was quite agile. I quickly turned left and left the alley.

Then,

As I navigated through the crowd, a man stood in my path.

Thud. A similar collision. A strange scent tickled my nose. Perfume?

"Sorry..."

My hand automatically slipped into the man's pocket, again without my will.

It wasn't a wad of money but some kind of paper.

Suddenly, a chill ran down my spine.

My vision turned dark red for a moment, like a black-and-white game over screen.

I was startled and let go of the paper.

"Sorry!"

"Huh?"

As I passed by, the man muttered something strange. Then, as I tried to push off the ground, I found myself in the air.

My vision rose, and my legs kicked at empty space.

The man I had bumped into had grabbed my clothes and lifted