Tutorial Rewrite 71 (Patreon)
Content
—Get tossed back into the lobby. Wow, real nice throw, guys.
…My brain feels weird.
I have no idea what maste—what that dog did to my brain, but I don’t like it. I didn’t get any divinity tolerance level up from it, so I don’t think it was magic. But if it wasn’t magic, then what the heck was it? I don’t want to try to delude myself into thinking it was just some random dog power, but I genuinely don’t know what else to consider it as. Maybe a skill? However, so far, no enemies apart from the shades have had that kind of skills. There’s tolerances and stuff like that, but a skill to make people do… that?
It just sounds too weird, I guess. Maybe I’m the one being weird about it, but that’s just what it feels like.
Anyhow, time to gloat to Moleman about my win.
<To repay your debt,
your inventory has been sold
for 3 points.>
<Current debt:
42 739 points.>
Ah, there it is. I was almost starting to think they’d forgotten to sell all my gombie-parts and balls of mud.
That said, being returned to the lobby really doesn’t clean you off at all, does it? I’m still muddy from head to toe. If I was rich, I could probably buy a bunch of water bottles to wash off with. Ah, the struggles of the poor.
<Top—Status—Community>
<02:06:08
Day 130>
<The sixth attempt will begin in
20:21:53:52>
<The seventh floor will open in
23:59:40>
Same old, same old.
Just for the sake of it, I give the boards a quick look through, but there’s nothing much of interest being discussed, so I just leave it. My PM’s are filled with nothing but hate mail, and nothing new from Moleman. If I check his profile, it seems as though he’s finally on Floor 34, which would suggest that he’s pretty busy, all things considered. Messaging him while he’s in the middle of a floor might not be the best idea, so I just leave him alone.
That leaves me with basically nothing to do except to prepare for the next floor.
I look around at the horrible WHITE lobby.
…I hate this place. I wonder if I can make a wish to not have to go back here between attempts and floors? That’d be sweet.
But, for now, I’d do best to just get ready for floor seven. You never know what’ll happen. Oh, and I also need to make sure this lobby won’t drive me insane.
So, once the lobby is nice and RED, I spend the rest of my hours just casually mutilating myself. Since I’ve got nothing better to do, I eat the mud covering me. Apparently, it contains a stunning amount of parasites and similar creepy crawlies, so I come out of the whole thing pretty diseased. However, since the lobby automatically heals you, it goes away fast.
Right as I start to wish I’d been allowed to keep some gombie meat to have as a snack, the floor finally opens.
<Floor 7 has opened.
Do you want to enter?>
<Yes/No>
About time, don’t you think?
Glad to finally leave this horrid lobby, I press yes.
And the second I do, and I appear in the next floor, already hunched down and ready to attack or be attacked, I’m suddenly overwhelmed with just how much green there is around me. Last time I saw this much green must have been on floor three, and that was… a few months ago, I guess? One attempt is roughly one month, floor 3 was on the third attempt… so, it’s been over two months? Oh, and then again, I was only in that lovely forest for the first week or so, so it’s probably closer to three months. Hm. I’ve really been in the tutorial for over five months, huh?
Five months… My birthday is on the twenty-ninth of July, so that would mean that my birthday is 80 days away? Huh; my birthday will be on the final day of the 6th attempt. Interesting. Not that I’ll be able to get myself anything, since I’m so deeply in debt that even getting three hundred points to buy a single measly cake would be impossible. Well, not that it really matters.
For now, this here forest is quite a bit more interesting. If it can even be called a forest at all. Considering the vines and the general humidity, it could probably be better described as a jungle of some sort. That would probably explain the sounds I can hear. Strange birds whistling and whooping in the distance, animals braying and neighing, people arguing loudly, monkeys howling…
—Hang on. People?
Slowly, stepping cautiously through the thick foliage, I approach the voices. I’d be a lot more cautious if it wasn’t for one thing. One little detail that makes me too confused and uncertain to properly prepare myself for a fight.
You see, as I approach, closer and closer, I can eventually make out the exact words they’re saying.
“—Well, where is he, then?”
“Why do you expect me to know?”
“Because, out of all of us, you’re the supposed creep-charmer. You should know when he’s going to show up.”
“When the hell have I ever called myself that? Just because I’m not the only one here he didn’t hate doesn’t make me—”
Even if I hadn’t had the time before Babylon skill, even if I had only ever learned Korean, I would still understand exactly what they were saying. Dumbfounded, I step out of the brush.
One of my former classmates turns towards me. She rolls her eyes. “Ugh, finally. You do know we’ve been waiting here for, like, four months, right?”
I freeze in my step. Before me, a little screen pops up.
<Tutorial stage,
Hell Difficulty Seventh Floor:
The Mediation.>
<[Clear Condition]
Solve the conflict
between the shades.>
…Shades?
“Hell—o? Ho-Jae, are you listening to me?”
I look up at her. Her name was… I can’t remember. But she was the popular girl in class. Everyone liked her. I’m not sure if she ever talked to me before this. When her eyes meet mine, I look away, down at my feet. They’re still a little muddy. “Y—y—yeah,” I stutter. Oh, God. I can feel my face turn red. “I’m, uh, I’m… I’m listening.”
She sighs—exasperated—and glances back at the others. My whole class is here. Everyone. I’ve forgotten most of the names that I had bothered to remember. The last time I saw them was our second year, when they leered at me and snickered when I exclaimed that since I was going to become a pro gamer, I wouldn’t need any useless normie education.
She steps closer to me. She’s wearing a soldier’s armour. It looks out of place on her but she’s too pretty not to look good in it. I’m embarrassed. She’s slightly taller than me, but if I had a straight back, that probably wouldn’t be the case. Combined, these two factors mean that I’m looking up at her. I wish I was a turtle so I could go hide in my shell.
“Okay, great. You saw the message, right? I’m kind of totally bored so I need you to settle this fast, but—”
The popular guy in class steps up behind her and gently pushes her to the side. He’s wearing similar armour, but the crest on his chest is different. He smiles down at me like how you smile at a confused child. “Hey, man, glad to see you!” I don’t think I’ve ever talked to him before, either. He puts his hand on my bony shoulder and I want to escape my skin. “Look, just like Jirya said, this is really a very simple situation. There’s us,” he gestures at himself and a group behind him, “and then there’s them.” He gestures at Jirya and her band. I look over at her.
<Shade (Lv.34)>
I look back at him.
<Shade (Lv.34)>
He smiles down at me.
…I don’t think Jirya was the name of my classmate. I don’t recognise it at all. Either he’s making it up, or there’s something else going on.
I look him up and down. “So, um…” I try to draw away from him, but his grip on my shoulder is fast. “Wh-, what’s the, uh, problem?...”
His smile broadens just a little. I don’t like the way it looks. “I’m glad you asked, Ho-Jae. You see this big open field here?” I follow the direction his hand gestures in. As sure as he said it, there’s a pretty large open field. It looks weird since it’s surrounded by a big thick forest, but I’m not about to question it. “A while back, my army and hers fought each other, and we both kind of died. Bummer, right? But, see, then we both came back, and now we can’t decide on who deserves to spend their eternal rest here. But, just between you and me, since our army reached this place first, it’s only obvious that—”
“Ugh, seriously, Het?” Jirya said, butting in. “This place is literally ours. It’s part of the kingdom we heralded from, so it’s clearly ours to rest in. This shouldn’t even be a question.”
Above me, Het’s smile turns a little strained. “As I’ve said before, Jirya, your kingdom fell to the rest of our army. Which, in turn, means that this place is ours. How hard is that to understand?”
She growls at him.
Behind them, the rest of my classmates squirm.