I was hiding in the shadows of a narrow, damp alleyway, my back pressed tight against the cold brick wall.
It wasn't a random alley. It connected the main street to the workshop's service gate. If I leaned just an inch out, I had a clean, diagonal view of the workshop's entrance. Close enough to rush in, far enough to stay unseen.
I had been standing here for half an hour, waiting for the protagonist to get ambushed.
You see, I knew exactly how this scene was supposed to play out.
Ardent.
He works in the weapon workshop just down the street, serving as a helper to a grumpy Dwarf master. When he went to the diner earlier to get food, he saw a girl in danger. While Ardent isn't a "goody two-shoes" like most generic heroes, that waitress reminded him of his own little sister.
Yes, the protagonist has a little sister. Sick, tragic backstory, the whole package.
So, he meddled and saved the waitress. But the thing is, those thugs weren't just random drunks. They were at the Master rank, while Ardent, who is just nineteen, is merely an Awakener.
In this game's power hierarchy, an Awakener is trash compared to a Master. The thugs felt disrespected by a weakling, so they decided to ambush him tonight and stab him mercilessly.
But here is the catch: Ardent wasn't supposed to die.
He has a High-Grade Healing Potion in his pocket. His Dwarf master gave it to him as a parting gift to keep him safe when he eventually leaves for the Academy.
That was the basis of my bold, stupid decision.
I planned to intercept the knife.
Even if I didn't unlock the System immediately, I could get healed by Ardent's potion. High-grade potions in this world are basically a cheat code; they can stop fatal bleeding, rebuild tissue, and even stabilise a dying heart if administered fast enough. With that, and my System eventually awakening, I could secure a foothold.
Although it will all become useless if I die tomorrow.
Feeling proud of my stupid little plan, I peeked out of the alley, sightseeing the world I was going to live in for days, years, or maybe forever.
The sun slowly faded into the dark as the moon crept up.
You would expect a red colour or a crimson crescent moon, something most games use to distinguish themselves from the real world. But it was just a plain, old white moon. And only half of it was visible in the sky.
"Guess the developers didn't have the budget for a custom skybox," I muttered.
"Hey, System," I whispered, feeling suddenly lonely in the dark.
[QUERY RECEIVED]
"Why are you so rude, man? I was just calling out to have a heart-to-heart talk."
I kicked a pebble across the cobblestones.
"So, if I clear this game, can I go back to my real world?"
[DO YOU WANT TO GO BACK?]
I paused. "I mean, I already spent the money the sponsors invested in me. I can't pay them back even if I returned. But... man, this game is too tough."
[YOU SAID YOU COULD CLEAR IT]
"Yeah, I said that while sitting in my gaming chair, comfortably drinking soft drinks and looking up cheat guides. I wasn't planning on laying my actual life on the line."
[ ... ]
"I really hope the plan goes well."
My mind wandered as the wait stretched on.
Quick, quick, Ardent. Come and get beaten up.
[ ... ]
"Should I form a harem, too, while I'm in this world?" I mused, trying to distract myself from the cold. "Mm, decisions, decisions."
This game did have some incredibly well-written female characters. Although they usually had a soft spot for the MC, they were also complex characters who helped move the plot forward.
Especially Freya.
When that name crossed my mind, my thought process stopped for a moment.
Freya was my favourite character from this game. And in my world-record run, I lost her because I was trying to fast-forward the plot. I sacrificed her for efficiency.
"Maybe I will change it this time," I whispered.
As I was thinking about useless things, three shadows stretched across the street. They approached from the opposite end, from the darker district where the lamps were fewer. In the lamplight, I confirmed the silhouettes: broad shoulders, leather armour, and that distinctive bald head.
It was them. The thugs.
It's finally happening.
My pulse quickened. I shifted my footing, leaning slightly forward so I could sprint without tripping. The entrance to the workshop was only fifteen meters from me; with a push, I could reach it in seconds.
From down the road, a handsome youth ran toward the workshop, clutching a heavy package. He was coming from the direction of the Dwarf's trade docks, which matched the original script.
"He's here, boss," one of the thugs whispered.
The bald guy, who was chewing on something, spat it onto the ground. His gaze landed on the youth with predatory intent.
Ardent reached the workshop door, holding a shield he had brought back to deliver for tomorrow's order. As he turned back to check the lock, a fist flew out of the darkness.
Bam!
A heavy punch landed squarely on his face.
"Gah!"
Ardent stumbled back against the workshop's wooden frame but didn't fall. He stood his ground enough to get a good look at his attackers. He wiped a streak of blood from his lip.
"It's you cowards."
Heh, Classic protagonist behaviour.
"Let's see if you can talk big after tonight," the bald thug sneered, stepping forward and blocking the workshop door like a wall.
They rushed him.
Although Ardent had a naturally tough body and fast reflexes, he really couldn't match the speed of Masters. The difference was visible: blurred strikes, impossible angles. It felt like watching a low-level character fight raid bosses without gear.
As he tripped slightly while dodging a kick, a heavy blow landed on his abdomen.
"Ahh!"
He fell to his knees, gasping for air. The thugs didn't hesitate; they started stomping on him, the sound of boots hitting flesh echoing in the quiet street. The workshop's closed shutters rattled with every hit.
"Man, they are really brutal," I whispered from my hiding spot, wincing at the sound. My feet braced, ready to push off. "Quickly, pull out the knife and get this over with."
After making sure Ardent couldn't move, one guy held him up straight while another took out a small, jagged knife.
"Where has your trash talk gone, kid?" The bald man licked the flat of the blade, his eyes gleaming with malice. He moved to stab Ardent in the gut.
Now.
I pushed off the wall and sprinted, boots scraping the cobblestone. With the alley acting like a chute, I shot straight toward them.
Swish.
Stab.
"Wha-?"
Confusion washed over the bald man's face. The knife hadn't hit Ardent.
It was buried in me.
"Who the fuck are you?" the thug shouted, stepping back.
I gasped, the air leaving my lungs. Getting stabbed right in the left side of my abdomen… it burned. It felt like a hot poker was twisting inside me.
I looked up at the thug with a pained, smug grin.
"I... I already called the Dwarves," I wheezed. "They should be here any second."
The bald guy's stern expression held for a second, then cracked. His eyes flicked to the workshop sign, the Dwarf crest glowing faintly in the lamplight. Dwarves and their connections, nobody wanted that heat.
The bluff hit home. While Dwarves aren't suited for battle, they have immense respect in this city and contacts with very strong people. Nobody messes with the weapon smiths. The workshop's sign alone was enough to spook small-time criminals.
The thugs' faces paled.
"Let's run, boss!"
"Damn it!"
The bald man kicked me in the chest, knocking me down near the workshop steps, and they scrambled into the alleyway opposite mine, disappearing into the night.
"Ahh… fuck, it hurts."
I curled up on the cobblestones, clutching my side. The workshop door was inches from me; if I stretched, I could touch the frame. Ardent's shadow hovered above.
"Oh my god, are you alright?"
Ardent, his face bruised and swollen, scrambled over to me. He held me in his arms, his expression full of panic.
Of course not, idiot. I just got stabbed.
"It… it's okay," I spoke in a low voice, trying to stay conscious.
The blood kept flowing through the wound, the knife still stuck intact.
Why isn't the System activating yet? Hello?
Ardent's eyes widened in horror, his hands shaking as he pressed them against my wound.
"Hold on, I owe you my life. I won't let you die!"
Ok, Plan A failed.
Just give me the health potion, man.
"I will quickly call for help!" He started to slowly let me down onto the ground.
Wait. No.
I grabbed his shirt with a bloody hand, pulling him back.
"Give me… the potion," I let out in a hoarse voice, abandoning all subtlety.
"What?" Ardent looked confused.
"The potion," I gasped. "Your master gave it to you. High-grade. In your pocket."
Ardent's face fell.
"I… I don't have a potion," he said, his voice trembling. "I haven't received anything from my master yet. I was going to get it tomorrow."
For a second, the world tilted. The workshop steps, his face, the blood, they blurred.
My heart stopped.
What?
Didn't he have the potion?
He was supposed to have it. The lore was clear. I remembered the cutscene. I remembered the dialogue flags. I remembered planning routes around it.
No. No. No.
The blood flowed faster from my side. My consciousness began to slip away, dragging me down into the cold dark.
Ardent slowly let me down, screaming for a healer as he ran down the street.
Fuck this game, man.
Hey, System! Why is this happening?! The lore says he has it! I waited. I followed the damn script.
[ YOUR PRESENCE HAS ALTERED THE SEQUENCE OF EVENTS ]
But… but I made sure not to interfere until now!
I grabbed the handle of the knife, my vision blurring. The streetlamps flickered, or maybe that was just my eyes. I was swimming in a pool of my own blood.
Damn it. Damn it.
My body stopped moving. I could hear footsteps running toward me from a distance, but they sounded like they were underwater.
So… this is it?
I closed my eyes. A single tear streamed from my right eye. I tried to be clever, and I died for it.
DING!
[THE CONDITION HAS BEEN FULFILLED]
[SYSTEM IS ACTIVATING]
[SYSTEM IS SCANNING YOUR BODY]
[SYSTEM ACTIVATED]
[WARNING: YOU HAVE RECEIVED A FATAL WOUND]
[DO YOU WISH TO STOP THE BLEEDING?]
[YES / NO]
Of course, yes! I screamed in my mind as my consciousness drifted away.