Chapter 3: The World Tilts Sideways
December 13th, 2045 – Shinjuku, Tokyo, 6:58 a.m.
The TV was already screaming before Rin's alarm even buzzed.
Flashing kanji banners and urgent anchors spilled from the old flatscreen, echoing through a kitchen that was too bright for a day like this. Winter sun burned through the big blue windows, bouncing off the pink-backed cabinets and making every shadow a little sharper.
He woke up tangled in two blankets, one his, one obviously Chiyo's, tucked around him with that stubborn, motherly precision only she could manage. His body ached all over, arm numb from a night spent half-slumped at his dad's old desk (now more his than Chiyo's, but the drawers still smelled faintly of his father's cologne).
The small kitchen table, surrounded by those familiar pastel-pink chairs, was already set with bowls and chopsticks waiting, a mug of tea steaming by the edge, sunlight crawling across the white tile floor.
He pushed himself upright, trying not to groan. Somewhere across the room, his phone alarm was still vibrating; the HGO keycard receipt on the screen was a confirmation that he could feel like a bruise behind his eyes.
The anchors kept tripping over themselves.
"…Nexus Enterprises, founded by the billionaire only known as Kazuku, has overnight acquired major Southeast Asian oil and tech reserves. Analysts are scrambling for answers. This could be the most dramatic shift since the 1997 Asian Financial Crisis, or perhaps the 1973 oil shock. No one has any idea what the endgame is, only that these assets are now being mapped to their virtual platform, Eldora, inside Hero's Glory Online…"
A split-screen flickered: old oil tankers from the '90s, panicked markets, shaky phone video of Tokyo salarymen staring at LED tickers outside Shinjuku Station.
"UN officials have called for emergency meetings. Wall Street futures down seven percent…"
He could see Chiyo in the kitchen, volleyball hoodie slipping off one shoulder, silver hair twisted up, broad-shouldered and tall, every movement brisk and full of quiet force.
The kitchen itself felt safe and lived-in, with a faint whiff of burnt toast, lemon cleaner, and rice lingering in the air. The pastel chairs around the table had faded in places, but each one was "someone's" seat, never left empty long.
Momo wandered in, pajama sleeves flopping, NeonNine plushie hugged to her chest. She went straight for the table, phone already open to Loop.
"Did NeonNine's new song drop yet?" Her voice was still scratchy with sleep, Japanese words tumbling out as naturally as breathing.
[Everything here was in Japanese, but Momo still peppered her talk with idol lingo and a touch of Kansai slang, just like Chiyo.]
Rin snorted, going to check the fridge for milk.
"You mean 'START'? Yes, it dropped yesterday and has been on the city rotation all day. I'm surprised you haven't heard it."
He poured himself a glass, the cold biting his fingers, and dropped into one of the pink chairs with a soft grunt.
The living room was still cluttered, Dad's desk stacked with old paperwork and Chiyo's own folders, a mix of old and new. Momo poked at her phone, scanning for the album drop, half-listening as the anchors debated "virtual embargoes" and real-world fallout.
She called back, "Did I sleep through a week or something, Nii-san? I can't believe I haven't heard this! Yuna is so cool… Wish I could go to one of her shows even virtually, but all of them have been in HGO and getting a pod is expensive!"
She glanced at him, eyes rolling but affectionate. "Maybe one day?"
Taji tumbled out next, socks skidding, glasses crooked, HGO highlights already blasting from his phone.
"Nii-san! Did you see the Winter Championship?" His Japanese was a rush of excitement. "London Spire won, Daisuke Aoi's team lost in the quarterfinals, but they said there's a new 5v5v5 coming. Did you see that part? I wanna play so bad, bet I'd be good!"
He darted to the table, bouncing into his seat and craning to see if breakfast was up.
Momo rolled her eyes, voice soft but sharp.
"That's boring, Taji. NeonNine's new track dropped yesterday. Yuno's still the best. She's hosting HGO now, you know. Way better than those pro nerds."
She looked to Rin, "I'd play with you if we ever get one. But not with you, baka Taji!"
She stuck out her tongue, but there was no real bite behind it, just that easy, loving sibling rivalry.
Taji shrugged, mouth full of rice already.
"I'm gonna be on TV first anyway, you'll see! Right, Nii-san?"
Chiyo breezed by, pressing a mug of tea into Momo's hands, not missing a beat.
"Don't sass your brother. And both of you eat, quickly. You're gonna be late if you don't get dressed."
Her Japanese was gentle, but firm, every word a gentle nudge, not a shove.
The anchors kept flailing.
"…for perspective, in '97, markets across Asia collapsed in a matter of hours. If these new 'resource nodes' are really mapped to Eldora, no one knows how that's going to affect global supply chains or actual real-world prices. Some are calling this reckless, while others consider it revolutionary. Kazuku, who's only ever appeared as a bear mascot inside VR, issued a single statement: 'Bring your business here. The world belongs to those who move first.'"
A cutaway flashed: the bear avatar waving a flag, digital oil rigs glowing on a map, then back to Tokyo brokers and Shinjuku street scenes.
Rin let himself sink into the pastel chair, sipping milk, as the room filled with the soft clatter of breakfast, the city just barely audible beyond the glass.
Momo was humming NeonNine, Taji swiping through tournament highlights, Chiyo setting out plates with her usual silent authority.
She didn't bring up Tochi until the food was on the table, her voice low, pitched so the kids wouldn't worry.
"I left your application for Tochi on the desk, Rin. Deadline's January fourth. I can help for now, but you'll need to make a call soon, okay?"
No judgment, just a quiet, practical edge, letting the choice breathe.
Rin nodded, glancing at the paperwork on his dad's old desk.
"I know. I'm thinking about it. I'll give you an answer soon."
The city was starting to wake with the muffled honks, rainwater sloshing in the gutters, the low drone of an early bus. Every window up and down the block seemed to have the news on. Tokyo is bracing for impact.
Suddenly, Taji perked up, phone vibrating in his hand.
"Nii-san, look! There's an update on the HGO Companion App!"
He turned the screen toward the table, wide-eyed.
"They're running a 3v3v3 Christmas Bash! You can make a new class, but it's solo queue only, level 25 cap, no old builds. Ten million yen prize pool! It's gonna be streamed. Everyone's freaking out!"
He bounced in his chair, nearly knocking over his tea, food dancing out of his mouth, landing on the table.
Momo shot him a look. "So annoying, Taji."
Rin chuckled, deadpan: "Hey, save some for your stomach, champ. Half your breakfast is already airborne. If you wanted to share, say so."
Taji froze, then snorted through a laugh, chewing, "Dang, bro, at least warn a guy! Can't help if I get hype."
Even Chiyo cracked a smile, shaking her head as she refilled their tea.
"Eat, all of you. I'm gonna start charging rent by the crumb if this keeps up."
The whole table broke into easy laughter, Momo hiding a smile, Taji giggling, Rin grinning over his tea. Chiyo's warmth wrapped around the kitchen, steady and unbreakable.
But even she was smiling, earbuds in, humming NeonNine between bites.
Chiyo, half-listening, refilled everyone's tea and sighed.
"Eat, all of you. Enough of the extra talk before school." She set a hand on Rin's shoulder, warm, grounding. "You don't have to carry all of it yourself, Rin. Your father tried that, and it nearly broke him. You've got us. Don't forget that."
He nodded, the knot in his chest tightening, but didn't say more. Not yet.
Chiyo gathered the empty bowls, stacking them with practiced grace.
"Come on, Momo, Taji, get your bags. Shoes on."
She opened the front door, letting in a gust of winter air, the morning sun cutting across the kitchen tile.
The twins both gave Rin a quick, clumsy hug. Taji's arms were tight; Momo's were brief but fierce.
"Bye, Nii-San! See you after school!" they both said.
Chiyo paused at the door, her hand lingering on the frame.
"Don't take too long thinking, Rin. The world won't wait for you."
Then she was gone, herding the twins down the hall, the sound of their laughter fading.
The door closed and the pastel-hued apartment sank into an after-storm hush the kind only a real family leaves behind.
Rin took a breath, watching the slant of sunlight crawl along faded tile, his own heartbeat suddenly loud in the empty room.
He finished the dishes plates clattering, hot water running over rice and soy sauce, every motion muscle memory. Each sound hit harder now: the fridge's steady hum, a wall clock's tick, no Taji hollering or Momo humming, just the thud of his own pulse, the kitchen chair cold under his legs.
Dad's old desk called from the living room, paperwork piled up in neat stacks, Tochi application sitting dead-center. Rin dropped into the battered chair, skin prickling in the cold, and started filling out the forms. Every kanji and katakana was a decision he couldn't take back.
"Boarding student," he checked, heart sinking. At least the twins would be safe, even if he barely saw them. The stack was carefully squared up, like boxing old dreams.
His reflection caught in the hallway mirror. Six-foot-two (188 cm), dark brown skin, wild locs twisted up, a sharper line beneath his eyes than most seventeen-year-olds should ever carry. That scar from childhood still sat under his right brow, a reminder you didn't need to look tough to survive here.
"Let me go take a shower before I get after it. Can't go around smelling like Eren's hot-ass breath," Rin muttered, rolling his shoulders. He stepped into the bedroom, dodging his folded tracksuit by the closet. Half his clothes were already packed; he'd been prepping, whether he admitted it or not.
The shower hissed, steaming up the little mirror. For ten minutes, he scrubbed the city out of his hair, letting the hot water clear the old aches. Notifications buzzed on his phone: "HGO Game Drive Ready for Pickup: Nexus Store, Akihabara."
He towel-dried, ran his toothbrush, and snorted at the wild post-shower mop in the mirror.
"Looking like a bot after a loss, nah, can't be me." Flashing himself a tired, toothy grin, he shook out the nerves, changed into his track suit, zipped up the bomber, slid his phone and Tochi forms into his bag, checked his wallet (barely enough for the day), and made sure the twins' beds were neat.
Before he left, Rin spent a few minutes on his phone scrolling reviews, Loop feeds, and VR pod café listings all across Tokyo, mapping out every spot he could try that wasn't booked solid for the Christmas Bash. It was slim pickings, but he marked a handful of options on his phone before heading out.
One last look at the kitchen. One last inhale of home.
The Haya e-Beat was waiting outside, dew still beading on the seat. He snapped on his helmet, visor down, battery at 78%, and kicked off into Tokyo's hard, winter morning. The air was a bit sharp and cold, waking him up better than coffee.
Shibuya – WattsUp Charge Station
He zipped through city traffic, the wind tugging at his jacket, Loop feeds buzzing through his helmet speakers. Neon signs blurred by ramen shops, karaoke joints, and older adults sweeping storefronts, the city was a patchwork of hard edges and warmth. He glided into the alley behind WattsUp, the e-Beat's soft whir barely louder than the hum of vending machines.
The neon sign buzzed blue to purple above the door inside. Old Man Gato's skin was dark, stubble gray, eyes sharp behind thick glasses was already counting bills, radio low with an old soccer match from somewhere in Europe.
Rin ducked his head and laid the faded WattsUp polo on the counter.
"Done already?" Gato grumbled, not looking up.
"Yeah, Gato-san. Chiyo's got me going back to school and trying to figure things out for Mom. She'll handle the twins while I study," Rin said, voice light but hiding the sting. "Don't worry, I'll leave the place in one piece."
Gato just snorted, flicked a glance over.
"Good. You'd better do right by your family, kid. You ain't got to spend your life here, stacking batteries for pocket change. City will chew you up and spit you out, otherwise." His tone was rough, but warmth lay beneath the crust. "But if I see you slacking, I'm gonna find you and whoop your skinny ass. You hear me?"
"Yeah, yeah, Gato. I hear you. Respect." Rin grinned, feeling the old man's words land heavy and right on his shoulders.
He tapped his card, charged the e-Beat up to 100%, and rolled back out, helmet on, city already waking. The scent of fried sweet potato from the corner stand mingled with the sharp ozone of winter air.
Akihabara – Nexus Enterprises Store
He cut through morning traffic, under low train arches, helmet speakers streaming the latest Loop update, HGO host Yuna breaking down the Christmas Bash:
"Ten million yen prize, solo queue and duo's only, new classes only, level 25 cap, launch on December 25th! If you want a shot at the big money, you gotta give up your old build. Legacy points for all who compete, but only the winners get the full payout!"
Rin smirked.
"That's a real bet. Not a single pro is sleeping tonight."
He weaved between vending machines and foot traffic, neon banners blinking "NEXUS," bear mascot waving "BRING YOUR BUSINESS HERE." Inside, steel and glass dominate, with highlight reels displayed on every wall. The HGO drive pickup at the service counter felt anticlimactic, the clerk's smile plastic.
"Enjoy, sir. Remember, it is compatible with third-gen pods. Old models may experience issues."
"Yeah, story of my life." Rin pocketed the drive, resisting the urge to ask for a demo; there was no way he could afford even a minute here.
Back out to the streets, the battery at 89%, city grind swelling all around him.
Pod Café Crawl
The search began:
J-Link Akiba: Line out the door, sign flashing: "NO SLOTS UNTIL NEXT WEEK."
KoiPod Net: Staff barely looked up. "You got a code?" "No." "Sorry, closed."
SuperNest VR: Only pro jackets in the lobby, security giving him that look. "No walk-ins."
Reservation fees had tripled. Every central pod café in Shinjuku, Akiba, and Ikebukuro is booked solid for weeks. Pro teams camping out, Loop chat a mess:
"No pods left in Tokyo, bro."
"Try Suginami, you'll need a sponsor code."
"Christmas Bash prize pool's a gold rush. GL getting a slot."
"Anyone got a third-gen pod? Will pay double."
He scrolled, tried two more dodgy sites, hit nothing but "sold out" and "not accepting new bookings." The whole morning burned away: cold wind blowing wrappers down the street, city noise swelling, hope fading with every "SLOT TAKEN" ping.
Curbside Break
By noon, hope was running out. Rin parked by a konbini, bought a rice ball with his last coins, sat on the curb, boots scraping pavement, Loop feeds buzzing in his helmet. Ads for the Christmas Bash, ten million yen flashed on every screen, the bear mascot dancing, "BRING YOUR BUSINESS HERE," like some taunt.
He scrolled the HGO app, meta update streams running live:
London Spire: Frostborn Spellforger, Human Ironbreaker, Elf Warden.
Osaka Blue Nova: Beastfolk Berserker, Human Shadowveil, Human Warden.
Daisuke Aoi: "Trying Drakekin Windrider Hybrid for the bash and reset GL to all brave newbies."
Eren: "Going Human/Half-Elf Spellforger Warden."
Rin snickered.
"If that baka still has a build, the interactions, man… He hasn't been relevant at all, but people still follow. Guess even a villain's got fans."
He spent the next hour hitting refresh, feeling the city grow meaner, his chances getting slimmer with every "SLOT TAKEN" ping.
Sakura Arcade: Hail Mary
Then, around 2:30 p.m., Loop updated again:
"Anyone desperate, try Sakura Arcade, Akiba. First-gen pod, coin-op. No promises, but it's free after 5 p.m. Manager's chill if you don't break anything."
Rin blinked, sat up straight, the world snapping back into focus. Sakura Arcade. He knew the name; his dad had worked on those pods.
"Alright. Hail Mary time."
He double-checked the listing, mapped the alley, set his route, and zipped back toward Akiba, with a battery level of 57%. The ride was all city-life: vendors shouting, cabs honking, blue winter sky streaked with neon from billboards, Loop podcast in his helmet, hosts breaking down the Christmas Bash, "ten million for three, if you got the guts and luck."
By 4:15 p.m., he coasted up a tight alley, Sakura Arcade's sign flickering pink and gold, half-hidden by crates and old vending machines, paint faded, shutters half-down.
He pushed the Haya e-Beat up onto the curb under Sakura Arcade's flickering sign. He peeled off his helmet, knuckles aching from the chill, tucking it under one arm as he stepped into the arcade.
The door clicked shut behind him, and the city's noise cut off. Instantly, the arcade's warmth wrapped around him, sticky and chemical, a mix of old plastic, fried snack oil, and the metallic whir of machines that sounded tired but alive. No crowd, not even a lone kid with a soda. Just the distant yelp of a claw machine and the hypnotic blink of cabinet screens. The glow felt more artificial than the street outside, but it was homey in a way, all grit and hustle.
Leon worked the counter, suit jacket thrown over a ratty soccer jersey, glasses down his nose, headphones cocked over one ear, cigarette stubbed out in an ashtray that hadn't been emptied in days. He was scrolling Loop on his phone, pretending not to care, but as Rin walked in, Leon's gaze sharpened, part suspicion, part hope.
"You lost, or just hiding from the cold?" Leon's voice was easy, but behind it, Rin could hear the fatigue, a blend of old optimism and new bills.
Rin let a grin sneak in, hands in his pockets, shoulders rolling out the tension.
"Nah, just heard you've got the only free pods after five. Was hoping to get a shot."
Leon raised an eyebrow, just for a second, then shrugged.
"Word gets around. Yeah, pods are free after five. Before that, it's all pay-to-play, which keeps the high schoolers out. But fair warning, break it, you buy it. First-gen Kazuhaya Tech. She's solid, but she's got quirks. Hero's Glory Online? You're better off on a new rig."
He paused, sizing up Rin.
"If you want to kill time, we've got old fighters, rhythm cabs, even a vending machine in the back. You want a soda or something, say the word 'free refills' for anyone waiting on the pod. And if you have questions about the tech, ask before you fry it. Kazuhaya's not something most kids your age have even heard of, except in a footnote."
That name Kazuhaya hit like a gut punch. It was like the air in the arcade shifted, just a little.
For a second, Rin saw his father in the shine of the pod's logo, heard his old man's laugh, the way he'd talk about "legacy hardware" as if it were a living thing.
Dad's name still means something in this city, huh? Even if you're gone, you're still alive in the wires. Crazy.
It made his chest tight, a strange, proud ache. He'd never actually seen one of his dad's pods in person. Now here he was, face to face with a relic his family built.
He just nodded, masking it with a shrug.
"Just wanted to see if these old things still run. My pops talked about them back in the day. Said the Kazuhaya pods had a personality."
Leon snorted, but there was respect there.
"Your old man had good taste. These were built to last. Not many are left that still boot up. , y'know, don't get your hopes up about new games."
Rin flashed a practiced grin easily.
"Nah, just wanted to see if I could get something retro running. I got a few old files, maybe something my dad left on a stick."
He kept the HGO drive hidden deep in his jacket pocket, thumb running along the edges, nerves sparking every time Leon glanced his way.
He took the sticky note, tapped in the Wi-Fi code, and settled in. Every second, the room felt more like a waiting room than an arcade, the heater kicking on and off, the drone of the city all but vanished. Leon kept pretending not to watch, but every glance betrayed him; this was business, and business was survival.
Rin watched the minutes crawl, thumbed through bug reports on Loop, his pulse drumming in his ears. The air inside was thick, almost sweet, like burnt candy, but underneath it all was something sharp, like the scent of hot circuitry.
Five p.m. hit with a beep from the wall clock.
Leon stood, stretching out his back with a wince.
"Alright, kid. You're up. Don't fry my pod, alright? But if you want to try a snack, or anything before you jump in, last call."
Rin flashed a quick, forced grin, maybe, but real enough.
"If it breaks, I'll fix it."
Leon snorted.
"They all say that. Good luck."
The pod was a relic, with a cracked vinyl seat, faded paint, and the Kazuhaya logo just a ghost on the plastic. Rin wiped the seat with his sleeve, like it might bring back some luck, and ran his hand along the edges, feeling the cold metal bite through the cotton. Every click of the drive slot sounded like it echoed forever. Boot screens flickered up, old blues and grays, the startup chimes just a little too slow.
He slid the neural visor down. The contacts found his temples, prickling, almost like a dentist's probe. His breath steamed inside the pod; his heart was already going.
Alright, Dad. Here goes nothing. If this thing boots, it'll be a miracle.
Rin moved quietly and subtly. With Leon distracted, he slipped the HGO drive from his jacket, kept it shielded from the counter, and slotted it into the pod's ancient reader. His hands worked fast, toggling old switches, hiding any real movement, making sure Leon never saw what game was actually being loaded.
He hit the "start" button, and for a moment, nothing happened.
Then the world slipped away.
[FULL DIVE: HERO'S GLORY ONLINE]
A pressure at the base of his skull, then a jolt like his nerves caught fire, every sense screaming as the pod's full-dive circuit yanked his consciousness out of his body.
It wasn't just a VR "connect." It was like being shot through a tunnel of light, with memories and sensations flickering past. His own breath was gone. His heartbeat was gone. All he could feel was motion, like wind ripping through his chest, the world stretching and then SNAP.
He was nowhere. Just floating in darkness, a flicker of cold air on his skin, the taste of ozone, the deep, impossible weight of silence.
Then the world started to build around him, first in color, then in sound, then in scent.
He could smell the earth's ancient dirt, moss, burning wood from some unseen fire, and the tang of metal. He felt the heartbeat of this world, as if every particle of air were vibrating.
A blue window flickered into existence, its letters shifting in a soft, neon light.
Welcome, Hero. HERO'S GLORY ONLINE.
Please select your race, class, and starting attributes.
He looked down, no hands, no arms, just a ghostly sense of self, a floating thought at the center of creation. Models spun in a circle: humans in armor, elves cloaked in leaves, dwarves pounding anvils, beastfolk running on all fours, orcs roaring, and, at the edge, a goblin crouched in shadow, yellow eyes gleaming.
Every model flickered with magic and light, voices whispering in languages he'd never heard.
He hovered on Elf a swirl of blue and gold, magic flickering, long blades shining.
"Daisuke Aoi made this meta. Could do worse."
He flicked through each model, a parade of possibilities. Paused for a second on a squat, green figure with wild yellow eyes, too-big ears, a knife the size of his arm, and a chipped shield. No flavor text. Just a sense of risk.
He smirked. Yeah, not today.
He moved to select Elf.
The menu stuttered.
A harsh, digital buzz, like an old TV switching off. His cursor was stuck on Goblin.
[GAME NOT COMPATIBLE – SYSTEM UPDATE REQUIRED]
A shock ripped through the world. A wind roared past, sucking the breath out of him. Everything glitched. The menu flickered.
For a split second, he thought he saw his dad's face reflected in the blue light, then the world crashed, the pod's neural net forcing him out with a painful jerk.
[REAL WORLD – ARCADE]
The return is brutal, like being punched into your own skin. The arcade light stings his eyes, the smell of oil and plastic too bright.
Sound comes back in waves: the whirr of the pod, the high, tinny beep of a crane game, the faint hum of the heater.
Rin blinks, dazed, heart pounding, chest tight.
It takes a full five seconds to realize where he is.
Leon's chair scrapes back from the counter. He actually walks boots heavy on the linoleum, every step echoing in the empty arcade. He stands over the pod, concern twisted in his brow, arms crossed.
"Oi! You fry it already? These old pods don't like getting pushed too hard. That's why I told you not to run any modern software on my dime. The system locked up, didn't it?"
He leans in, peering at the readout, frowning at the error logs.
Rin swallows, pulse still slamming.
"Just said it needed an update. Didn't break it, promise."
Leon curses under his breath, tapping through system logs.
"Yeah, that's Kazuhaya for you. These things dislike anything that isn't built-in. You're lucky it didn't brick the whole rig. The system needs a reboot. If you brick my pod, kid, I'm taking it out of your hide."
He's still muttering, shaking his head as he goes back to the counter.
Rin lets the world slow down, fingers shaking as he checks the drive, making sure it isn't fried. He waits until Leon is distracted, then quietly pops the side of the pod, hot-patches the boot order, rigs a bypass, and hands trembling.
A warning pops up as he finishes the override, the system's internal diagnostics blinking:
WARNING: Manual override active.
System operating above safe parameters.
Pod life expectancy has been reduced.
Running: Hero's Glory Online (unsupported build).
"Dad, you'd know how to fix this in your sleep. Hope you're watching, old man."
Panel back on, neural visor down.
One more shot.
"If it fries, I'm dead. But this is all I got left." Rin was panicking but if anything his old man taught him was how to handle tech. That's one reason he got into Tochi Academy.
[FULL DIVE RESTART]
The second connection is even more violent.
A stab of cold, like plunging into icy water, his body disappearing, replaced by pure sensation. He hears voices: whispers in the dark, old songs, someone laughing, a memory, or the game, he can't tell.
He's thrown into the void, no sense of self except for his mind, flickering between panic and awe.
Light builds around him, and the world starts again.
Welcome, Hero.
This time, the landing is rougher. He feels the dirt under his knees, the rough scrape of grass, the taste of old smoke on his tongue. Night air, heavy and thick, presses in all around.
He staggers to his feet, the world moving strangely. His legs are too short, toes curling into the earth, hands green and stubby, a battered bone knife dangling from his belt.
A blue UI flares across the top of his vision:
[GOBLIN CAMP – LUNAREST OUTSKIRTS]
He blinks, half-disoriented, fighting the urge to panic.
The camp sprawls around him, canvas tents patched in three shades of brown, wooden racks stacked with rusty weapons, barrels ringed with iron, all ringed by a ragged wooden palisade.
The air is thick with firelight, greasy smoke, and the stink of sweat and wet animal hide. Goblins everywhere: arguing, trading, huddling near the fires, a pair wrestling near a tent, others dozing in makeshift nests. Their eyes glint yellow and blue, their ears twitch at every movement.
Rin keeps his head low, forcing his new limbs to cooperate, pushing through the crowd with an instinct he can't name. His body feels wrong, short, twitchy, and low to the ground. His ears flick, catching every squabble in the camp. His nostrils flare with the scent of smoke and something acrid, like burnt fur.
He blinks as a goblin nearly barrels into him, grunting in some garbled tongue. His hands tense, knuckles pale-green against the bone knife. Heart pounding faster, louder, closer to his ears now. Feet scrape the dirt, his posture hunched, fighting to keep his balance.
A battered barrel half-hidden behind a mound of old furs and crates catches his eye. Water sloshes inside, catching the light.
He crouches beside it, knees bending with an unfamiliar angle, half frog, half man. The feeling of the ground beneath his bare goblin feet is raw and immediate, a chill creeping up his shins.
He leans over, staring down. The water's surface is murky, but clear enough to reflect.
A goblin stares back.
Skin a mottled green, jaw sharp, nose split by a scar that runs to one corner of his mouth, ears jutting out wild. The eyes big, yellow, and clever are his, and not his. The mouth opens, teeth jagged, lips twitching as he tries a grimace.
He watches the reflection, his ears flicking, nostrils flaring, yellow eyes narrowing, jaw working left to right.
Not dead. Not broken. Not what he wanted. But he's stuck with this.
He flicks his focus:
[SYSTEM STATUS]
Name: Rin Kaiseki
Health: 75 / 75
MP: 50 / 50
Race: Goblin
Alignment: Neutral Good
Class: Hybrid
[Inventory]
• Bone Knife (Confiscated)
• Scrap of Bread (Stale, pocket lint)
• Crude Map: Outskirts – Lunarest (Torn, useless)
[Skills]
• Goblin Gas [Lv1]
• Nimble Feet [Passive]
• Scavenger [Passive]
• Goblin Flare [Lv1]
STAT SPREAD (Goblin Scout)
[Stat Overview]
Overall Rating: Goblin Scout
STR: 5 (Normal)
VIT: 4 (Normal)
INT: 4 (Normal)
WIS: 4 (Normal)
CHA: 3 (Normal)
AGI: 12 (Normal)
LUCK: 12 (Normal)
SKILL CARDS
Nimble Feet
Passive – Rare
• Increases Movement Speed by +20% for 3 seconds after initiating a sprint or dodge.
• Grants +10% Evasion Rate and −15% incoming critical hit chance during that time.
• Cooldown between triggers: 8 seconds.
• Scales slightly with AGI and LUCK.
Scavenger
Passive – Rare
• +25% chance to find extra materials or items from defeated enemies and destructibles.
• +10% chance to uncover hidden chests, caches, or shortcuts.
Goblin Flare
18 MP – Normal
• Throws a flare that detonates in a flash of red-orange light.
• Deals 25 fire damage on impact.
• Applies Blind for 2 seconds to all enemies in radius.
• Reveals stealthed or invisible units for 5 seconds.
Goblin Gas
10 MP – Normal
• Releases a toxic green gas cloud that lingers for 4 seconds.
• Enemies inside suffer 12 poison damage per second and −30% accuracy.
• Applies Nausea and Vision Blur (minor DoT + movement reduction).
• Combo: When ignited by fire (Goblin Flare, fire spells, or open flame), the gas explodes, dealing 120 base fire damage + 50% of the caster's INT as bonus explosion damage.
• Explosion radius: 6 m.
His mind doesn't freeze or flail. Instead, he runs through the numbers, jaw tight, scanning each line stays and skills to see how can work this out. "The intelligence stat is an insult there goes the whole Elf Build I had in mind" he thought to himself. Noticing that he also started on level 2 with some stat points he can start. "maybe a expansion gift" Rin thought nothing of it he was more concerned on how it occurred.
"What triggered this? Was it the glitch? Was it just bad luck? Is there a way out? Is there a way to flip it to my advantage?" Rin's head spun as his mind raced.
He pushes back a wave of irritation. No use whining. If you're scared of losing, you'll never win. That's what Dad always said. It doesn't matter what the stats say; it just means the only way is through.
All around, the camp is alive, goblins bickering in rough voices, firelight dancing over battered tents, the stink of the wild pressing in. His feet shift in the dirt. His fingers twitch on the hilt of the bone knife. Breath fogs in the chill air.
The UI flickers blue above him, still waiting. He went back over next to the main camp tent to wash the muck off his face.
END CHAPTER 3
Chapter 4: Three Days to Bleed
"Nobody teaches you how to survive the night, only what happens if you don't."