Hearing Orsaga's comments, the guide could only sigh.
"Alright..."
She genuinely didn't know what to say.
Thanks to the popularity of web novels, some newcomers entered the Matrix Purgatory already familiar with how it worked.
But someone like Orsaga—who treated the whole thing like a sightseeing trip—this was a first.
With a look of mild resignation, she said, "As a newbie, you get to pick one item as a starter gift. Go ahead and choose something."
She pointed toward a section nearby, where rows of display racks were neatly lined up, each one holding various items:
Rifles, pistols, grenades, combat knives, longswords, stimulants...
Orsaga gave a casual nod. "Not bad."
Then he began browsing.
Doing her job dutifully, the guide added helpfully, "Firearms are decent, but most only come with one clip. Once you're out of ammo, that's it. And, let's be honest, most newbies have terrible aim. If you've got any close-quarters experience, I'd recommend a melee weapon. At least—"
She didn't get to finish.
Because just then, Orsaga pulled a 350ml bottle of kvass from one of the racks.
Eyes lighting up with joy, he exclaimed, "Ah~ I haven't had this in ages."
Without hesitation, he popped the cap and took a long, satisfied drink.
"..."
"Tastes decent."
Screwing the cap back on, he turned to her with a curious look. "What were you saying?"
Facepalming, the guide waved it off. "Nothing. As long as you're happy."
She pointed to the nearby screen. "Your list of starter worlds is up. Pick one."
[Resident Evil: 2], [Swordsman Legends], [Dead Rising], [Jurassic Park]...
"Resident Evil, huh? A main storyline copy? That'll do."
Without hesitation, Orsaga tapped [Resident Evil: 2].
He'd never played the game, and he only vaguely remembered the first movie.
He had no idea what Resident Evil: 2 even entailed.
But that didn't matter.
The only thing that did—was fun.
Once his selection was confirmed, the guide glanced at the kvass in his hand and quietly sighed.
'This guy had potential in every area... except his brain.'
At last, she asked, "Got any final words?"
Orsaga didn't hold back:
"You're pretty hot. Wanna hook up? No strings attached, though—I'm not looking for commitment."
Before his bold statement had even faded from the air, the guide delivered a spinning roundhouse kick faster than the eye could follow.
In the fraction of a second it took to land, Orsaga had already calculated her strike trajectory.
He sneered, "Amateur…"
And was promptly kicked clean across the room.
His reflexes had been fast enough to analyze it, but not fast enough to react physically.
Still, that didn't stop him from being smug.
A moment later—
The Matrix Purgatory's teleportation activated.
A flash of white light enveloped him, and he vanished.
Watching him disappear, the guide muttered through gritted teeth, "What kind of lunatic did I just get assigned...?"
She pulled up his file:
[Purgator ID: 8748574]
[Species: Human]
[Gender: Male]
[Power Level: E-Rank]
"...?"
Her jaw dropped.
"That psycho's only E-rank? What is he, some elite special forces agent?"
Thinking back to his perfectly smooth skin, she immediately dismissed the idea.
"His body's way too clean. No way he's trained."
---
When Orsaga opened his eyes again, he found himself staring up at a crystal chandelier.
"Another unfamiliar ceiling," he muttered.
Sitting up, he patted his chest.
"Hm… doesn't hurt. Looks like the system provides some kind of damage immunity buffer at the start."
He had expected a few broken ribs from that kick.
Judging by the speed and power of her strike, he'd already calculated the damage it should've caused.
He had even prepared himself to enter the zombie scenario in a wheelchair if needed.
As for why he'd made that comment earlier?
No reason. It just felt right in the moment.
That's all that mattered—fun.
He'd been goofing off for centuries. Old habits died hard.
He shifted his gaze to the shimmering protective barrier surrounding the room.
"An energy field?" he guessed.
Seemed like a containment or isolation mechanism.
Then he noticed the others.
Several people lay scattered around the room.
Including himself, there were ten Purgators—men and women, old and young.
One looked like a preteen boy. Another was a half-toothless old man.
"This Matrix Purgatory… just picks people at random, huh?"
Shrugging at the thought, Orsaga examined the shield more closely and confirmed he couldn't leave—yet.
So he found a spot and sat down.
Three minutes later—
The first person woke up.
A muscular Asian man in his thirties. The way he moved, the way he stood—Orsaga could tell instantly. This guy had military training.
Not that it mattered.
Even if they were both "ordinary humans" under the system, Orsaga could still flatten him in one move.
Which made him lose interest almost immediately.
Still, the man noticed Orsaga the moment he woke up. Sitting alone in a corner, staring blankly with lifeless eyes, Orsaga looked anything but ordinary.
The man's training kicked in—instinctively wary.
His guide had told him awakening time usually scaled with strength.
If Orsaga had woken up before him, that meant he was stronger.
Subconsciously, the man touched the weapon he'd been issued.
A .44 Magnum revolver. Six bullets only.
But as a military sharpshooter, he was confident he could land four kills in under a second at twenty meters.
He didn't draw the gun, of course. Orsaga hadn't done anything threatening.
He was just... squatting in the corner like a bored ghost.
But still, the man couldn't shake the feeling.
This guy was weird.
Perfectly symmetrical features—almost too perfect. Hair and eyes a deep, unnatural red.
He couldn't even tell if Orsaga was Asian or Caucasian. The features were too blended.
There was something off about him. Something alien.
Another ten minutes passed.
The other Purgators gradually woke up.
One of them—the oldest—immediately had a heart attack.
The room descended into chaos as everyone scrambled to help him.
Orsaga rubbed his temples.
This batch of Purgators… left a lot to be desired.
"Hang in there, old man! If we survive this world, you'll get a full physical restoration! Heart problems? No problem!"
Hearing that, Orsaga thoughtfully stroked his chin.
He hadn't gone through the tutorial, so he didn't know about the post-mission healing perk.
Then, a system prompt appeared:
[Newbie World Mission Initiated...]
[Current Scenario: Resident Evil: 2. Timeline divergence: 27%]
[Participants: 10 Purgators]
[Mode: Free Teaming (No rewards for PvP)]
[Role: Resident of Raccoon City]
[Primary Mission: Survive for 7 days — 1500 points]
[Optional Missions:
1. Help Alice's survivor team escape the city — 4000 points.
2. Assist Umbrella Corporation in capturing the survivors — 3000 points.
3. Eliminate Umbrella's stationed forces in Raccoon City — 5500 points.
4. Prevent the detonation of the nuclear warhead set to cleanse the city — 12,500 points.
5. Help... ]
'Timeline divergence? What the hell is that supposed to mean?'
Having skipped the orientation, Orsaga was still half-clueless.
Not that it mattered.
He was here to have fun.
If he didn't die, he'd keep messing around.
If he died—so what? Just a disposable Clone.
No fear.
Only chaos.
__
T/N:
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