Level Up
The blade slashed down without a moment’s hesitation.
Leaving the goblin gang’s corpses strewn across the ground behind him, Solomon stared at the troll with an expression utterly devoid of emotion.
“Th-the scary little thugs… they’re all dead now. The wizard saved the troll!”
The troll looked up at Solomon with wide, sparkling eyes.
Behold this pitiful, wretched troll. Those clear eyes that seem like the last remnant of purity left in this world… and the surgical scar running across the top of its skull.
Ah. So another name for purity was *lobotomy*.
Only after hearing the narrator’s explanation did Solomon notice the surgical scar on the creature’s head.
“Troll wants reward…! But troll… has nothing to give…”
“Stop bothering me and fuck off already.”
‘Huh?’
Solomon had meant to answer casually, but the curse slipped out before he could stop it.
Rough Tongue
His speech is as rough as his life. Grants advantage on Intimidation rolls.
Figuring out what had just happened wasn’t difficult.
‘Wait, it works like this? This is insane.’
“…I only had business with those bastards.”
“Th-thank you! You’re kind… Wizard is kind… Strong and kind!”
Desperately conscious of his words, Solomon quickly added a polite remark so he wouldn’t sound too abrasive.
This pure, pitiful idiot troll will remember your actions.
Leaving the pitiful troll and the voice in his head behind, Solomon turned away.
Remember… will it?
He stepped out of the Blood Crow Tavern. The night sky over the port was still dark.
‘Finished faster than I expected.’
The Blackwater docks in the distance were bustling even in the predawn gloom.
Solomon wasn’t relaxed enough to leisurely admire the harbor scenery. His stride as he crossed the streets had already lost all hesitation.
After passing through Blackwater Port and reaching the upper Lower District where the Dawn Lark Tavern stood, he pushed open the door. The pig was still there.
‘Wait, that fat bastard is still stuffing his face?’
Solomon approached the table, unable to hide his genuine astonishment.
“Took care of the Deadly Snitch job.”
“Whoa, already? You really are quick when it comes to getting things done!”
“Things went a bit sideways on the way, so I ended up killing all of them. Any problems with that?”
“Oh, really? Can’t be helped. Sometimes setting a clear example is the best move.”
When Solomon spoke carefully, trying to sound indifferent, Roche didn’t seem to care one way or the other.
“Who gives a shit if a few small fry in this business kick the bucket.”
He was tearing into a steak with both hands—Solomon had already lost count of how many plates the broker had cleared. The table was piled high with dishes he hadn’t bothered to remove. The endless stream of food disappearing into the pig’s mouth was practically an allegory for the sin of gluttony.
“H-hey, don’t look at me like that…”
When Solomon stared at him in disbelief, Roche awkwardly scratched his cheek, looking uncharacteristically shy. It was an embarrassing sight Solomon could have done without.
“I’m on a diet, you know.”
“A diet?”
“Yeah! Ever heard of the one-meal-a-day diet? I’ve been starving all day. This is my first meal.”
“……”
“Gotta start taking care of my body at my age.”
‘Pretty sure this guy isn’t long for this world.’
Solomon was so dumbfounded he couldn’t even find words.
“Anyway, here. Take this.”
For a split second Solomon thought the broker was about to hand him a piece of meat he’d been chewing on and nearly recoiled, but it was just the job payment.
Even so, having a hand covered in meat juice and grease pass him a briefcase wasn’t exactly a pleasant experience.
“Five hundred for the newbie fixer job and the sewer mage tower advance payment combined. After you finish the latter, there’s another fifteen hundred waiting! Jackpot!!”
Solomon glanced inside the case. It was packed tight with bundles of this world’s currency.
5,000,000 krona. Five million.
‘Definitely five hundred.’
A bag stuffed full of cash. For the first time in a while, Solomon realized he had truly become a person of this world in more ways than one.
“Also, the mage tower job is more urgent than I thought. Looks like the city guard has caught the scent. They’re trying to control the information on their end, but you’ll need to wrap it up within three days at the latest.”
Roche spoke while chewing on another chunk of meat.
“Understood.”
The moment Solomon answered and started to get up, a sizzling grill loaded with fresh french fries and a newly cooked steak was set on the table.
“Ah, um… this one’s on me.”
Roche slid the steak grill toward Solomon. It was obvious he had planned to eat it all himself but felt awkward under the stare. Solomon decided not to press the issue.
“I’ll gladly accept.”
It was late, after all. Now that the work was done, he was hungry.
The meat sizzling on the grill was a tomahawk steak nearly five centimeters thick.
The exterior has been seared to a crisp brown crust, while the thick, marbled meat is as tender as silk…
When he sliced into the grain with a knife to test it, hot juices poured out and hissed as they hit the still-scorching grill.
It was mouthwateringly delicious. And the pig was devouring it with both hands… Solomon could almost understand how Roche felt.
“How is it? Pretty amazing sous-vide steak, right?”
“I think I just discovered the secret behind that gut of yours.”
Solomon nodded in agreement.
* * *
After finishing his meal at the Dawn Lark Tavern and receiving both the completion fee and the advance payment, the eastern sky was already beginning to brighten.
He had officially taken on a new profession in this world and accepted a new way of life. His brain was so overloaded with information that he felt like he might collapse at any moment.
So he needed a place to collapse.
The lodging the narrator in his head had told him about when he accepted the name Solomon and this new existence.
Grimmlow Court, Building 2, Room 17.
On the outskirts of the Lower District, cramped and narrow tenements were packed together like pigsties, perfectly displaying the contradictions of the industrial era.
It looked less like a place for people to live and more like a livestock pen built solely to contain human beings.
A place where even imagining a bathroom or toilet was impossible; simply being able to stretch both legs out fully was something to be grateful for.
Even so, this was his home now.
The house he had dreamed of. A life as a homeowner he had never imagined in his wildest fortunes.
Solomon collapsed onto the floor as if his legs had given out.
The moment he lay down on the mattress—which made him wonder if he had bought a stone slab by mistake—thick, accumulated mold stench greeted him like an old friend.
“Sweet home, motherfucker… No. Pretty and nice words. Pretty and nice words…”
He closed his eyes along with the curse. This damn mouth of his was going to give him neurosis.
‘Still, I leveled up.’
He recalled what he had read in the rulebook. Leveling up didn’t apply immediately. To actually raise the level, he needed to rest.
It was a common rule in TRPGs that emphasized realism and verisimilitude.
‘Rest, huh. Guess that means sleeping for a night.’
What would happen when he woke up? Would he feel like a tiger had taken over his body? He had no idea.
Solomon closed his eyes just like that. Sleep came quickly.
It was such a deep sleep that he wouldn’t have noticed if someone had carried him away.
* * *
His eyes opened.
This wasn’t the cramped room of Grimmlow Court, Building 2, Room 17. The moment he realized that, he sprang up like a spring, instantly on guard.
Ah, there’s no need to worry.
A strangely familiar voice reached his ears.
Only then did Solomon realize he was sitting in a room with a rectangular table… and that the voice that should have been inside his head was coming from right in front of him.
As you know, I am not your enemy.
It was a man wearing a black, dark robe. The shadow beneath the hood was so deep that his face couldn’t be seen. In fact, Solomon wasn’t even sure if there was a face there to begin with.
“Game Master…?”
This is the Tabletop Room.
Tabletop Room. The robed man—the Game Master—answered.
“What the hell is this?! What are you doing?!”
Ah, it’s because you leveled up.
The Game Master slid something across the table. It was a sheet of paper.
He didn’t even move his hand; with a light gesture, the paper flew over on its own as if controlled by telekinesis.
‘This is… my character sheet.’
Solomon silently accepted the paper. It was the exact same sheet he had filled out when creating his character.
Solomon, you have reached Level 2. In addition to the stat increase, the following level-up bonuses are provided.
The Game Master continued while Solomon looked at the sheet.
The player receives one Job Unique Trait and 2 freely usable Trait Points (AP).
But that wasn’t what he needed to focus on right now.
“You’re Charon4, aren’t you? I know that much. What the hell are you? What did you do to me…”
Actions that deviate from your role, do not fit the theme, or interfere with fair and enjoyable gameplay will be penalized.
There will be no next time, Solomon.
The voice was calm.
Yet it left no room for further defiance.
He understood it instinctively. There would be no next time. Solomon calmly assessed the situation.
This wasn’t a kidnapping or a hidden camera prank. The situation—and everything the being before him had shown—had long since far exceeded the bounds of ‘common human sense.’
He quietly picked up the character sheet and examined the benefits he would gain from reaching the new level.
The trait he would definitely receive upon reaching Level 2 as a Spell Assassin. To be precise, it was a trait for the rogue class.
Blade in the Dark
Once per day, guarantees a critical hit on a melee attack.
‘Yeah, this is it.’
In addition, you have 2 freely usable Trait Points. These points can be saved for later use. How would you like to proceed?
“Show me the list of available traits.”
Understood.
The robed man nodded obediently and presented another sheet.
It was a list of traits available in Dark Camelot – Guild City.
Available Traits:
Enhanced Focus (1AP)
Spell Sniper (4AP)
Long Stride (1AP)
Keen Instinct (2AP)
Insensitivity (1AP)
(Omitted)
Sword Master (10AP)
Spell Eater (10AP)
(Omitted…)
Among them, what Solomon was looking for had been decided from the beginning.
From the start, the final form of the build he wanted to reach with this character had been clearly drawn in his mind.
Even though the situation had turned out like this—no, precisely because it had turned out like this—nothing would change.
Glass Cannon
The bearer of this trait gains the following effect:
When attacking, add the value of the die rolled to damage. When receiving an attack, receive additional damage in the exact same way.
Consumes 2 Trait Points (AP).
Glass Cannon. Just as the name suggested, it was a double-edged sword that fairly increased damage both when attacking and when being attacked.
That’s right. TRPGs were, in the end, games where you rolled dice on the table according to the situation and timing.
A board game where victory and defeat, survival and death were directly tied to the numbers that came up on those dice.
At the same time, he recalled the memory of fighting the gang members in this world.
Back then, there had been no relaxed dice-rolling or waiting for results while exchanging actions. He hadn’t even seen a single die.
Let alone adding damage by rolling dice—he couldn’t even begin to imagine how that would work.
Even so, the foundation of the build Solomon had designed was, ultimately, a dice-rolling board game.
What meaning could it have in a world where dice were no longer rolled?
‘Besides, is there any guarantee that the build I designed will work the same way in this world?’
While Solomon hesitated, deep in thought—
I’ll give you one piece of special service information.
The robed man spoke.
The dice still have meaning.
“They have meaning in reality too?”
Yes. They are simply not noticed, not visible, and a little more subtle and delicate.
A little more subtle and delicate. Solomon mulled over the last words and remained silent for a moment.
“Then I’ll take the Glass Cannon trait.”
He spoke after the silence. There was nothing to do but believe here.
Not in the suspicious robed man before him—the Game Master.
He had decided to believe in himself.
More precisely, in the TRPG knowledge and experience inside his head, and all the broken, cheating builds he had created with them.
Up until now, how many broken builds that even the GM couldn’t have imagined had he used to reach the end in this scene?
Starting as a mere mortal, how many gods and dragons had he tested the limits of power against?
It had been fun to watch characters grow endlessly stronger without limit. That was why he had played TRPGs. Nothing was different now.
Besides, the rulebook this being in front of him had written was clearly the work of an amateur with zero sense for numbers. He chose to believe that.
Therefore, he had to become stronger. For the clearest, simplest narrative of all—survival.
Very well. You have spent 2 Trait Points to acquire the Glass Cannon trait.
At the same time, the character sheet in front of Solomon changed on its own. The ink letters danced freely, filling in the empty Trait Point space, overlaying new text, transforming like a living creature.
There, a new Solomon had been reborn at Level 2.
That was as far as his memory of the scene went.
* * *
“!”
His eyes snapped open.
He immediately realized that what had happened last night in the Tabletop Room had not been a dream.
Job Trait Blade in the Dark is currently active.
The message announcing the trait that let him land a critical hit once per day without question or condition had appeared before his eyes.
It was a far more straightforward form than suddenly feeling like a tiger had possessed him.
“Deactivate trait.”
Moreover, the most broken part of this trait was that it could be turned on and off at will.
He had to avoid the catastrophe of accidentally triggering a critical hit during some trivial argument, after all.
It was a joker card he could use with 100% certainty at the exact moment he absolutely needed to land a critical hit.
Job Trait Blade in the Dark is currently inactive.
Fortunately, the function worked properly here as well.
Even though it was a trait learned at a mere Level 2, this was the alpha and omega of the assassin build Solomon had designed.
It meant that when he landed an ambush, he could guarantee that strike would be not just an ‘ambush’ but a ‘critical ambush.’
How exactly that would function in the real world was unknown. But at least in a world that existed through numbers and rules, the broken nature of a critical ambush that didn’t rely on probability was beyond doubt.
Therefore, he had to see it with his own two eyes. How much stronger he had become. How much closer he had come to the build he had envisioned in his head.
Solomon immediately got up and checked the five million krona inside the briefcase.
‘The sewer mage tower job is urgent, he said.’
He didn’t have any leeway either. So he immediately grabbed the briefcase and stood.
He wasn’t going monster hunting right away. He couldn’t hunt monsters without any preparation.
‘New weapons and equipment. A crossbow and status-effect arrow cartridges.’
Before the hunt, it was time to go shopping.
Shopping that would let him hunt monsters.