Chapter 10
Chapter 10
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Translator: Silver Dragon
Chapter: 10
Chapter Title: Grades of Unique Abilities
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The community was buzzing with entirely new topics compared to yesterday.
Everyone seemed to have adapted somewhat by now, diving into deeper discussions.
People were hugely interested in unique abilities.
But if it were me, I'd have shifted focus away from unchangeable unique abilities.
Unless it tied into skills like mine.
I'd thought my unique ability, Universal Resistance, was just a mediocre defense stat booster. I hadn't felt it in action either.
But while testing my new skills, it finally kicked in.
Universal Resistance lived up to its name—truly universal. So far, it only reacted to my skills, but I guessed it boosted resistance to nearly everything.
I hadn't taken damage yet, so no sensation.
Sure, I'd been attacked.
Today, even.
When I killed those seven, the guy activated his unique ability, smashing my shoulder with massive muscles.
It was a desperate last strike, and plenty powerful.
Even with all my stats over 10, zero damage surprised me then.
Probably defense stat plus my unique ability at work.
No message popped since no damage triggered it.
Defense stat reduces damage outright based on its value—below a threshold, nothing gets through.
Divine Aspirant boosts strength, mana, and defense on skill upgrades.
Choosing this job felt even more spot-on now.
Testing skills made me realize defense's importance.
Others probably picked jobs matching their unique abilities' stats.
Mine wasn't intuitive, so harder to match.
Few revealed full abilities—most vaguely described. Even revealers likely held back. No one's that dumb.
I browsed other posts.
I skimmed the posts numbly.
They were vaguely sensing my presence now, spilling wild guesses.
Hidden hunting spots? Cheat abilities? Not entirely wrong.
Summon scroll, not spot. Achievement stat boosts count as ability-ish.
But they missed the core.
My power stemmed from spawnkill monopoly.
While they flailed in inefficient cooperation and competition, I'd already stepped outside that frame.
Am I the only one who crossed the line? Or did #2 and #3 kill too?
Day 1, no deaths. But I killed at Day 2 start—maybe they did too.
No complacency.
I quietly closed the community window.
Night deepened on Day 3.
The darkened village was silent. In that quiet, I felt my growth.
Got a job, new power.
Level already incomparable.
Comparing thrilled me with superiority.
Tomorrow, Zone 2: Wolves' Paradise opens.
What monsters, resources await?
New hunting ground.
New people.
Village or hunt zone—both prey-filled to me.
Leaning on inn bed, I reviewed the day.
Just 3 days.
Killed 7, got key, hit 11, Zone 2 unlock, job change, achievement.
Most successful day. I'd dominate more.
But dangers linger. Community showed resource hoarders near-monopoly.
Level edge no guarantee—unique ability wildcard.
Still, I slept satisfied tonight.
Misler sat in a corner of the village square, staring blankly at the sky.
Late 20s, he'd quit a stable job to prep for a new one when this world hit—like a prison.
He craved ordinary life, smooth routine. This chaotic daily hell felt a cruel joke.
Center square: others trained fervently.
Recent student swung sword clumsily; middle-aged man sweat-drenched on shield drills.
Their faces mixed fear with desperate will to survive, grow strong.
Misler watched.
Like scenery beyond soundproof glass—their cheers, passion didn't touch him.
He couldn't be like them. Didn't want to.
Immersing, adapting, thrilling in growth here—they seemed weird.
Like sole sane in disaster flick; others extras faithful to script.
"Misler, you okay? You look pale."
Mior from his dimension sat beside, handing warm water cup.
She always put others first.
"Ah, fine. Just... spacing out."
Misler smiled awkwardly. He wasn't desperate like them.
His monster hunts: bare min 5 for basic quest. Rest? Sit listless or mingle idly.
Sword grip awkward; slicing jiggly slime monsters? Gut-wrenching revulsion each time.
They debated levels, gear passionately—he stayed out.
Didn't want in. All too unreal.
Their talk sounded foreign tongue.
Stats, skills, unique abilities—meaningless words to him.
He nodded along, invisible outsider.
Others saw him as unmotivated, timid-ish.
"Don't push too hard. Everyone's new to this. You're calm, so safe—good thing."
Mior comforted.
'Calm?'
Misler bitter-smiled inwardly.
Not calm.
Apathy to all. Listlessness.
And wariness.
While others risked brawls for more EXP, charging slime packs, he hung back.
Over 5 slimes? Race others at respawn.
Hated needless clashes, stopped at 5. Eat, sleep fine.
Not just cowardice—saw no need.
Level up for what? Stronger monsters, riskier zones. He wanted none.
His unique ability? Solid by his eyes.
No direct combat help, but huge potential to flip situations if used right.
First check: fleeting thought he could be this world's protagonist.
Soon despair.
Ability showed path.
But no will to walk it. Clear success road mocked his inability.
Ability tied to what he feared most.
To some, insurance against danger. He wanted no truck with danger.
Ignorant thrashers enviable—at least effort excuse.
"Us... really going home?"
Question slipped out.
"Of course. System gives chance every 100 days. Survive together till then, go home."
Mior patted shoulder.
Her voice held faint anxiety.
Misler nodded, but 97 days felt eternal.
One day here subjectively longer than month's reality.
Sipped inn-hot water, recalled desk: stacked books, dim lamp, city noise outside.
Then, suffocating reality. Now, longed-for paradise.
Escape survival rat race, back to dull normalcy...
"Um, Mior. Think I got no combat talent."
Misler ventured cautiously.
"So... other ways I help? Non-hunting."
Mior's eyes widened briefly, then softened smile.
"Sure. Manage village food? Gear maintenance? Later, need those roles."
"Yes. I'll do that."
Misler faint smile.
Again, fled fight.
Fled growth.
Others advanced; he happily lagged.
His way to preserve normalcy in madness.
Gazing darkening sky, deep helplessness mixed with slight relief—home one day closer.