Prologue
Lately, I've just had no motivation.
It's been eight years since I possessed a character in this game. Back in the day, I dreamed big—unrivaled dominance with original knowledge! Monopolizing hidden pieces! A harem of beautiful girls! Sure, it wasn't that grandiose, but I had my own goals and plans. I poured everything into them.
Of course, I'm not some naive idiot who believed effort always guarantees rewards. I just figured that after all that work, I could achieve a few of the things I desperately wanted. They weren't grand dreams—just a handful of simple, modest wishes.
But it didn't pan out.
The dungeon was too damn hard.
The game I possessed into was a roguelike dungeon-crawler RPG. I could write a thesis thick as an encyclopedia on how much of a trash game it was, but that's too long and boring to explain. Point is, I realized far too late.
The way to survive a dungeon game? Don't enter the dungeon.
I wasted so much time on meaningless crap like a fool. By the time I realized my goals were flawed from the start, I was too exhausted.
I decided to take a short break.
But that was ages ago.
If I'd just rested properly, I might have become an adventurer. Instead, here I was in a dark room with curtains drawn since morning, flopping onto a bed I'd sewn two together to fit my massive frame. This body could shrug off ogre hammers and dragon breath, but it had lost its battlefield.
In my melancholy mood, I opened the community.
This community was the one and only perk every possessor got upon dropping into this game. Most people open it by accident trying to pull up their status window. They rage about why there's no status screen and just some random gallery—until later, when they're shedding grateful tears that it even exists.
That was me, by the way.
Possessors can't reveal they're possessors. There's a long story behind it, but... anyway. That's why most of us live with crushing loneliness. This community was our sole outlet for connection.
We were all in the same boat—stuck in the same game. It was natural to feel a sense of camaraderie. Even just watching our fellow Earthlings yap away brought a small smile.
That's when one post caught my eye.
Was about to start a fresh Dwarf Stone run when suddenly my eyes sting, I blink, and I'm here. Bunch of half-naked hulks wandering around with axes slung over their shoulders. No mirror, but this doesn't feel like my body. And now they're telling me to head into the dungeon right away? I'm screwed, right?
'New...bie...?'
My stalled heart kicked back into gear.
'Dwarf Stone.'
The official name of the game I'd possessed into. A trash game, as I said. Trash games are niche. Meaning, newbies are rare.
And among those rare newbies, one who's a possessor? Even rarer.
Like embers craving a spark, us veterans always yearn for fresh newbies.
The replies exploded instantly.
As expected, the replies cheered the newbie's arrival. Bored as hell, everyone piled on excitedly.
Soon, Judak—the community god, the admin—pinned a guide for the newbie.
You've possessed a character in the Dwarf Stone world. This community is our exclusive hub for possessors like us.
Post anything, but hate speech or drama gets you warned. Don't dox other possessors or leak info—bans and punishments await.
Key warnings:
1. Don't confuse game with reality.
2. Don't get caught as a possessor.
3. Want home? Descend the labyrinth, claim the Dwarf Stone.
Added: Link to Basic Common Knowledge Every Labyrinth City Citizen Should Know in replies for natural acting. Memorize it.
Ask the rest from other possessors. Good luck.
So clean and thorough. We usually scare newbies with "you're fucked now—" and troll them, but Judak worked too hard and we missed the timing.
Even setting aside the past crimes of early possessors, the possession method itself was the problem. One day, no warning, you're suddenly in someone else's body.
Put yourself in the original owner's shoes—chilling stuff. It's body-snatching, plain and simple.
What happens to the original soul? Unknown. Some say heaven, others eternal torment on wicked Earth. I don't buy either.
Doesn't change the fact their self is gone.
Possessors didn't ask for this, so yeah, unfair... but hard to expect forgiveness from the victim's family.
Forgiveness isn't for everyone.
The newbie posted again.
My lips tightened.
Replies hammered the newbie with counterpoints. It felt like they were defending me—saying exactly what I'd wanted to.
The newbie went quiet, processing the harsh reality.
A few minutes later, a new post.
"Haha."
I chuckled for a while at the newbie's blunt curse after grasping the situation.
Then a possessor questioned the newbie.
"Ehey."
I sighed without thinking.
Replies flooded in.
A bit indignant, the newbie posted again.
Half-right. Barbarians start with high strength, health, agility, and weapon aptitude. Low mana and magic, but great early survival.
Problem's outside the dungeon.
Most possessors die from getting outed. Barbarians are the easiest to spot.
I remember a barbarian who got caught washing hands with soap after the bathroom. Another outed for brushing teeth secretly—breath too fresh.
Stupid reasons, right? But real.
Civilized habits slip out. Hiding them? Tough.
Small mercy: Outed barbarians get quick beheading. Mages? Tortured for every secret first.
Before the newbie bit on Pandemonium, a regular stepped in with another path.
While the community hunted for a barbarian mentor, a DM came from my close little bro who knew my identity.
I'm a barbarian. Savage, barbarian warrior in other words.
Wasn't born one like the newbie—long story. But humans can become barbarians with tribe approval. Rare, but possible.
Excluding today's newbie, I'm the last surviving possessor barbarian.
Only I can help.
Truth? Lazy. Me? Go out of my way? Nah.
I'll probably rot in this bed till my savings run dry.
Not close enough to confess that, though.
'This punk... I'm not human.'
As I went to retort, a DM from the newbie—reading mine and replying.
Tossed the ugly bro's aside, greeted our cute newbie.
Tips... not sure, but one thing came to mind.
Why I survived unlike other barbarian possessors.
Suddenly worried if this newbie could make it.
To survive, become a barbarian. No joke.
Body and mind must fully assimilate, or death.
Shed your past self. Become a true barbarian.
Honor in glorious death, battle as pride and purpose—batshit insane tribal warriors.
Rip and eat enemy flesh, laughing if needed.
Wonder if words alone convey it.
Honestly, newbie's start was heaven vs my hell.
No time for casual community chatter like them.
Still, might help.
I rewound to ancient memories.
Days tough but fulfilling. Marching forward, future be damned.
Back when I hadn't given up yet.