Player vs. Environment (3)
The self-proclaimed name was ‘Eldi’. One of the second batch of participants—Players—alongside Hasselhoff, He was an admin in some community and a veteran gamer who compiled strategy guides for all sorts of games as a hobby.
Three years ago, he'd started creating guides for any game that caught his interest, and occasionally, his ID ‘LD5214’ would pop up even in foreign wikis. And the very first game he ever cleared—and the one he felt the most affection for—was this one, right here.
“I figured you weren’t a Player, but…”
Kikikik… Their small daggers clashed in a tense standoff. Eldi felt a surge of intense curiosity at the fact that he, not Claire, was the one being pushed back.
“The nun from the snowfield, right? You just wandered around the village without saying a word, but you stuck out as the most distinctive-looking one for some weird reason.”
“You know me?”
“Of course. I looked into you, and came up empty—total bust!”
“That’s creepy.”
As Claire’s wariness spiked, the white light drifting around her intensified. It was the signature effect that appeared when clerics, including nuns, buffed themselves—a color he’d seen plenty of times fighting enemies disguised as holy folk.
“There’s something else. It’s flashier than other clerics, mixed with… something more.”
“Hmph.”
“What’s that reaction supposed to mean?”
Pfft. A sneer escaped in that horrific, twisted voice.
“So you’re saying there’s nothing like that? Mind if I check?”
Eldi, who’d been losing ground in raw power, slowly eased off, then unequipped his dagger.
Clunk.
Claire, who’d been straining to hold him back, lurched forward. Eldi sidestepped to avoid the collision, then summoned a longsword from his inventory and swung down at her torso—a strike that deliberately avoided vitals to honor his promise not to kill.
Whoosh!
But the body that should’ve taken the hit regained balance with unnatural movement and flowed sideways like water. From a Player’s perspective, it looked just like a perfectly timed dodge.
And faintly, the bright light enveloping Claire seemed to dim just a touch.
“Dodged without even reacting? Whoa, no other cleric can pull that off.”
As Eldi switched his weapon back to a dagger, Claire replied.
“…So?”
It was a response she didn’t want to give, didn’t need to give—but she said it deliberately, drawing Eldi’s eyes to her. All to distract him from the Players approaching from behind, his focus stolen by this new type of NPC he’d never seen.
“Just means I’ve got one more thing to figure out. ‘What’s this baseless ability?’ kinda deal.”
“Baseless…?”
“Yeah, you know. The term you toss out when something pops up that’s way too alien from what you know.”
Crunch. Crunch.
While Claire held his attention, three Players crept up behind Eldi. No matter how strong a Player he was, objectively, he was just a helmeted human. Survivors like them would find an opening, as fellow Players. That’s what Claire hoped.
“Three of you. Two barefoot, one in leather boots? Sounded about right.”
Until Eldi closed his eyes and muttered that eerie line.
The approaching Players froze at his words, checking each other’s feet. Two barefoot, one in tattered leather shoes. He’d pinpointed the exact sounds of their off-meta gear—without even turning around.
“Don’t move slow—move carefully. NPCs might miss that, but I’m one of you, right?”
The Players were speechless. Even if they could talk, it wouldn’t have mattered. They could anticipate a surprise attack from ten Players out of sight, sure—but this? Guessing everything without looking?
Charging in would just get their attacks read like an open book. They couldn’t move recklessly.
“What are you doing, you so-called Players?!”
Kagang!!
Frustrated, Claire snapped and lunged at Eldi with her cane sword. Four thrusts slipped through gaps—she knew nothing of swordsmanship. An upward diagonal slash, then a shift in wrist angle for a stab and another slice.
‘Why isn’t he countering? Why?’
Contrary to her expectation of being overwhelmed quickly, Claire was the one pushing him back. His wild dagger swings were parried by a hair’s breadth, and the attacks he couldn’t block left him in awkward dodges, posture all off.
She had no techniques—just raw strength and speed from various buffs. Simple stuff.
“You doing this on purpose? You’re not even using your strength properly…!”
Claire figured Eldi was playing weak for some reason. But his response was far from what she expected.
“On purpose? On purpose? You’re not giving me a single opening in your pattern!”
Claire tuned into his voice. It was twisted in a way she’d never heard—unsettling—but he was clearly angry. Yet he was still just scrambling to block, unable to exploit the gaps in her sloppy form.
Posture-wise, it was kid’s play, almost a joke.
‘He’s faking… no, wait.’
To Claire, Eldi looked out of his depth. No techniques from the book illustrations or what she’d seen from that guy—just desperate rolls and unrefined dodges. He’d only landed one proper hit at the start, and that was it.
‘If that’s the case.’
Maybe he was more bluff than bite. Claire lowered her mental guard several notches and assumed a stance—one the sword-wielding Players she’d seen always took: sword held at the ready, angled.
This time, not to be pierced, but to pierce through. She attacked with that intent.
“Oh, now we’re seeing some different patterns.”
The white light trailing Claire intensified, shifting form. The holy spirit at the staff’s tip rang like a bell, and faint light seeped into the blade.
Tssst.
A staff and book she didn’t remember picking up. And her cleric powers. All these mysterious forces converged.
Whiiing…!!
She swung at the Player with his puny dagger—Eldi.
“Whoa.”
Eldi clenched and unclenched his left hand, stepping right. The cane sword’s blade—longer than a dagger, shorter than a longsword—caught the light and extended. The slashing beam of light wobbled irregularly but didn’t scatter, aiming straight for his head.
“Way better than before.”
Indeed, it looked threatening enough to feel familiar. The kind of flair you’d expect from a weapon-using cleric.
Eldi tensed the purple-skinned left hand. He inhaled deeply, mimicking Claire on purpose, timing it perfectly. Arm raised slightly overhead against the straight-down beam, eyes wide, observing the attack.
A first-time move, but similar ones he’d seen a thousand times: a finisher.
Eldi clenched his fist.
Bang!!
He smacked the descending beam aside. Basic as it got—a parry no novice would dare attempt.
“Hngh…!”
Claire nearly dropped her weapon from the rebound, staggering in place. No wound, but the shock made her hand and arm tremble.
“When I said it was better earlier… yeah. Meant it gave a counter opening.”
Turning her shaking gaze forward, she saw Eldi approaching slowly, dagger in hand. His torn cloth armor gaped open, revealing purple bare skin—unmarred, unlike the clothes. The light around Claire had vanished, and Eldi closed in on the immobile girl.
Tatata!!
One Player, no longer fearing friendly fire, jumped in to attack—but.
“Players are still easier to deal with.”
Eldi grabbed the armed arm with one hand, stabbed a vital with his dagger, and hurled the Player aside. Someone who’d never properly seen swordplay was his easiest prey. After proving it repeatedly, one of the five finally fled.
The remaining four couldn’t charge Eldi either.
“Well then…”
When Eldi turned back to Claire, she was gone.
“A bug?”
He muttered the instinctive word and scanned the rooftop. No odd sounds. Body or skill use would’ve triggered effects. Not consecutive short-range blinks, nor a drop below. No answer in his game senses. Slowly, he turned.
“Well, well, look at these guys.”
Claire wasn’t the only one missing. The four Players who’d stayed—and Hasselhoff. All vanished from the spot.
Like fog had rolled in, turning it into a horror game vibe.
“Where? You didn’t run, right?”
Not a bug—he was sure. No telltale chill. If only Players were here, he’d think they logged out. But NPCs were gone too.
“Right here. Player.”
As expected, someone spoke from behind, hidden. That voice—definitely Aiden Oliver.
“You always this sneaky? Too many copycat NPCs if you are.”
“Nah, not my style, as you know… but perfect for observing you.”
“Ah, sure. Don’t see what watching changes.”
Underwhelming reaction. Easy words to say.
“Started by watching how Players move. Underwhelmed, so borrowed some hands. But now I’m good.”
“Don’t you know the last one to show always dies the worst? Quit yapping and come out.”
By order, he was boss material now. Sephirah was a Player, Loqi a kid. Subjugate them all, prove his perfect Player prowess to himself. Unravel the changed game entirely.
As Eldi thought that—
“Fast Travel.”
Aiden closed in behind Eldi in one step.
Slash!!
And carved deeply into his back.