I searched frantically through the tatters of my dark blue coat for any sign of an ID. In this world, IDs weren't just a form of identification—they were everything.
In NOTFH, players needed IDs to pass through entry points in every kingdom. They worked as keys for servers too, separating players from the A.I.-generated NPCs roaming around.
And right now? I had nothing.
If I couldn't show proof of identity, the guards would see me as some shady outsider trying to sneak into the southern gate of the Nebula Kingdom's capital.
"Aren't you coming, young man?" one of the robed mages asked, giving me a puzzled look.
I froze, then forced a nervous smile. "Just… looking for something real quick."
The mage tilted his head but didn't press further. With a curious nod, he followed the rest of his group toward the guards, where IDs were already being checked.
I clenched my teeth. Damn it… what the hell am I supposed to do without an ID?
Before I could spiral further, a system message blinked before my eyes:
[Episode 1: Enroll Into Arcadia Academy]
I just stared at it blankly. Then I deadpanned.
"…How the hell am I supposed to enroll in an academy when I can't even get past the gate? Are you mocking me, system?"
"Hey! You there—boy by the carriage!" one of the guards barked. "Hurry it up!"
I swallowed hard. No more stalling. If I hesitated now, I'd only look more suspicious.
Forcing a nervous grin, I stepped forward. The guard held out a hand. "Your ID."
"…I don't have one," I admitted.
Both guards immediately stiffened. Their eyes narrowed, and they exchanged a sharp glance. Finally, one stepped closer. "Without an ID, you cannot enter the capital. Standard procedure requires we search you for contraband or dangerous items."
I almost sighed in relief. So, if they find nothing, maybe they'll let me in. I'll just have to endure it.
I raised my arms obediently. The pat-down was… thorough. Rough, even. My jaw clenched, but I reminded myself: this was a world where cursed items and forbidden artifacts existed. I couldn't exactly blame them for being paranoid.
But then—
"Wait. What's this?" one of the guards muttered, fishing something out of my inner coat pocket.
I froze. What? No way. I checked every pocket already!
My stomach twisted. "Uh… is it… an ID?" I asked, half-hoping.
The guard unfolded the paper. His eyes widened. The second guard leaned over, took one look, and his jaw went slack as well.
My blood ran cold. That can't be good…
Just as I braced for the worst, the first guard suddenly stiffened and gave me a short bow. "Forgive me, future student of Arcadia Academy. Please, proceed."
I blinked. "…What?"
He handed the paper back with both hands, respectful now, and gestured toward the gate. Still baffled, I walked forward, past the guards, and into the southern side of the capital.
Only when I was safely through did I finally look at the paper.
It was… a letter of recommendation. From one of Arcadia Academy's professors.
Recognition clicked instantly. Right. This was apart of Dean's prologue. Apparently, it had been with me all this time. The stamp of the royal crest on the letter had done all the work—it was more than enough to get me inside.
I let out a shaky breath. "So that's why the system threw that message at me… it already knew."
Or at least that's what I thought.
Either way, my next step was clear: if the main story wanted me to enroll in Arcadia Academy, I had to play along.
Problem was, the story didn't actually start here. In the game, everything began in Yuraveil—the provincial city where mages, warriors, and scholars gathered. One of the ten major cities of the Nebula Kingdom. Each city was practically its own world, with unique lore and storylines: Yuraveil, Daithin, Persa, Lumaven, and more.
Traveling on foot would take forever. Luckily, this world wasn't all medieval. Technology existed too—thanks to alchemists. Flying ships, steam-and-magic-powered boats, enchanted communication devices. Even delivery systems.
And most importantly for me: transportation vendors.
I thanked whatever devs had decided against sticking NOTFH in a pure medieval slog.
Still, in the southern capital, finding a vendor wasn't easy. Worse—I was broke. Well, not completely broke. I had about 500 silver coins, a "gift" from the gate guards earlier. But realistically? That wouldn't cover long-distance travel.
Unless…
The underground train.
——
Nebula's underground rail was designed for transporting food, goods, artifacts—and people. Its engines leaked mana constantly, so it had to run underground. Too much exposure to raw mana could cause Mana Poisoning, and I wasn't planning to die from magical radiation poisoning anytime soon.
Descending into the station, I waited among the crowd. A destination board listed the routes. I found my train and joined the line.
That's when I noticed them.
Homeless. Everywhere. Humans, elves, beastmen, fairies, dwarves—you name it. The station reeked of suffering. My chest tightened.
In the game, players had hated this detail. The homeless NPCs would always approach you for coin, food, or an item. Refuse, and your reputation gauge dropped. Reputation shaped every ending, every relationship, and every piece of world-building.
But players? They wanted their loot. Most ignored the NPCs. Some even mocked them.
My eyes landed on one in particular: a starving beastman. His forearms and cheeks were covered in pale green scales—Lizardman race. His stomach looked sunken.
When he saw me staring, his voice rasped as he asked weakly if I needed something.
I stayed silent. Instead, I pulled out twenty silver coins and dropped them into his trembling hand.
The lizardman's eyes widened. He tried to protest, but I waved him off. "Don't thank me. Just… buy yourself something to eat."
Before he could say anything, the train's horn blared.
The doors screeched open. I boarded, paid the 100 silver fare, and found a window seat. That left me with 380 coins. Barely enough for survival, but at least it was something.
As the train began to move, I glanced back out the window. The lizardman was smiling faintly, clutching the coins like they were life itself.
"…Hmoh." I allowed myself a small smile. "Doesn't matter."
A system message popped up.
[You've Committed An Act Of Kindness.]
[Your Reputation has risen to 0.1%.]
I scoffed. Kindness? Hardly. That was just pity. But if the system wants to count it… whatever.
The doors sealed shut. A voice echoed through the train's speakers:
"Next stop—Yuraveil Station."
I leaned back in my seat, pinching the bridge of my nose. Finally, I closed my eyes. Sleep tugged at me hard.
The train roared into the tunnels, carrying me toward the next chapter of this nightmare.