Chapter 2

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Translator: Silver Dragon

Chapter: 2

Chapter Title: Picked the Wrong Tutorial

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Salt-laced dust clawed its way into his lungs.

A faint groan mingled with the gritty air.

Somewhere, the screech of dragging metal pierced his eardrums.

Jinwoo slowly opened his eyes.

What came into view was a crude wooden ceiling tangled with cobwebs.

'...Where is this?'

He couldn't grasp the situation. His head felt as heavy as if he'd downed a hangover cure.

As Jinwoo tried to sit up, he froze mid-motion.

A heavy, cold weight bound his wrists.

Rusted iron chains.

'Damn it. Is this a dream?'

"You're awake, Easterner?"

A raspy voice came from beside him.

A gaunt man draped in rags stared at him.

The man's eyes were ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠deeply sunken, but the spark within them hadn't died.

"Looks like the Trade Federation nabbed you. Tough luck. This is the Nomade Salt Mine."

"Nomade?"

The moment the name lodged in his ears, warning lights flashed in Jinwoo's mind.

He whipped his head around, scanning his surroundings.

Creaky double-decker bunks.

A floor blanketed in dirt.

A hazy sky beyond the bars.

And in the distance, mining equipment belching steam.

Everything was terrifyingly familiar.

The exact scene ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠he'd watched for hundreds, thousands of hours through his monitor!

'I'm screwed!'

A hollow laugh escaped him, followed by curses.

Unbelievable, but he had to accept it.

"Goddamn Providencia Softworks."

This was the starting point of the game, [Rising West].

"Quit dawdling, you worm-infested scum!"

A pig-like squeal echoed behind the creak of a heavy iron door.

Guards with greasy faces herded the slaves forward, swinging their batons.

Jinwoo rose silently and fell into line.

'The guards' patrol routes number three. Shifts change every six hours. Meals twice a day: watery soup and a hunk of hard bread.'

The info etched in his brain matched the reality before his eyes perfectly.

Every structure and system here was as clear to him as the first page of a guide.

'No way I wouldn't know! How many times have I played this game?'

Jinwoo stood there blankly.

A pot-bellied guard clubbed him in the back.

"You there! What're you standing around for?"

"...Ugh!"

The throbbing pain added to the sense of reality.

Jinwoo grimaced. This wasn't a dream.

Swallowing his anger, he bowed his head silently.

It wasn't time yet.

'That bastard's pockets are so loose, he'll drop his key any minute.'

Info alone wasn't enough to escape this place.

He needed a minimal crew and the right opportunity.

Gripping his pickaxe, he glanced at the other slaves.

Most moved like machines with hollow eyes, life drained from them.

But two stood out.

One was a massive man with the aura of an enraged bull.

Even under the lash, he didn't flinch, silently shattering rock—strength incarnate.

'That guy's Kellogg.'

The other was an elderly man, gaunt but with eyes burning sharp.

He conserved energy wisely, constantly eyeing his surroundings.

'That old man's... Deep.'

Jinwoo felt relieved.

Everything was unfolding just like the original.

Thinking ahead, those two were essential.

Days passed as Jinwoo adapted.

"Ugh! Please, just water!"

Slap! Slap!

"Lazy bastards!"

Under brutal labor, starvation, and merciless beatings, slaves dropped one by one.

Jinwoo endured silently.

Quietly, meticulously, staying under the radar.

He timed guard shifts, mapped their lax patrols, and noted the weakest bar in the cell.

All to confirm how closely this mirrored the game.

'Good. No big differences from the starting point I know.'

The only issue: it was the hardest one.

The incident exploded during the usual evening meal.

Two corpses were dragged into the square for all to see.

Arhan and Evol, pickaxe partners from days ago.

"Anyone daring to escape the great Trade Federation's mine will end up like this!"

The guard bellowed for effect, but whispers of doubt rippled through the slaves.

Those two were too cowardly to even mention escape.

"Bastards..."

Kellogg's shoulders trembled with rage beside him.

"They beat 'em to death for fun. Escape's just an excuse!"

Jinwoo silently agreed with his fury.

'Obviously a lie.'

The mine's only escape route was south post.

Nothing had happened there, confirming what he knew as he listened to Kellogg.

But this was also the signal.

'Slave death event.'

If it followed the script, awakened Kellogg would soon urge the player to escape!

Jinwoo sensed it.

Time to fit the final puzzle piece.

With these hands.

That night, as everyone slept, Jinwoo slipped to Kellogg's side.

"Kellogg."

"...What is it, Easterner?"

"Let's get out of here."

Kellogg's eyes flashed in the dark.

Jinwoo pressed on steadily.

"I know the way."

As Kellogg and Deep heard Jinwoo's plan, their eyes shifted from doubt to shock, then desperate hope.

Jinwoo laid it all out.

Guard shift times, patrol weak points.

And the stolen wire knife, plus the pilfered guard key.

"No way, Easterner! When'd you prep all this?"

"Watched it the last few days. And call me Jinwoo."

memory, really, but he brushed it off.

"Tonight, when south post security's loosest. We slip through there."

"Crazy. But..."

Kellogg heaved a ragged breath.

"Worth a shot."

That night, the three held their breath.

Drunken guard shouts drifted faintly from outside.

On plan. Jinwoo snapped the weakened bar he'd secretly filed, then turned the pilfered key carefully.

Click.

The dull sound opened the path to freedom.

Three shadows raced silently toward the harbor in the darkness.

But their freedom was short-lived.

"Slave escape! Grab 'em!"

Detected faster than expected!

Jinwoo clicked his tongue.

Alarms blared across the mine; torches flared everywhere.

"Damn it, run!"

Kellogg yelled.

Chains tangled their feet, tripping them repeatedly, but adrenaline drowned the pain.

Then, rounding a corner, a drunken guard appeared.

The same pot-bellied one who'd clubbed Jinwoo's back.

"You slave scum! Where do you think you're going?!"

"Shut up!"

Killing intent flashed in Jinwoo's eyes.

His vision flickered red.

The world slowed.

Jinwoo marveled.

"There it is, Red Eye."

The superpower of the protagonist sweeping the Eldorado Continent: the Legendary Gunslinger.

The pot-belly flailed slowly like he was drowning.

A crosshair appeared.

Instinctively, Jinwoo swung his pickaxe.

Crack!

"Gahk!"

Clean hit.

Blood fountained from the guard's skull.

Vision normalized.

'Just like that tutorial!'

Stamina-consuming unique ability.

Jinwoo spat on the corpse and bolted.

"Hurry!"

Kellogg and Deep followed desperately.

"There! Jinwoo, you were right! A boat!"

Hope at Kellogg's shout.

A small vessel bobbed in the dark harbor.

"Almost there!"

Freedom within reach. Then—

Bang!

A sharp gunshot; something grazed Jinwoo's shoulder. Burning pain, but not fatal.

The real problem came next.

"...Urk."

A short groan, and Deep pitched forward.

Red blood gushed from his back.

"Deep!"

Kellogg screamed, catching him.

A comrade of the pot-belly, smirking with smoking barrel aimed their way.

"Kellogg, I... was wrong. My daughter... at least see her face..."

The light faded from Deep's eyes.

"No! You bastards!"

Kellogg lunged with a wail.

Jinwoo yanked his arm.

"Snap out of it! Die here, and Deep's sacrifice is for nothing!"

Jinwoo half-dragged Kellogg to the boat, slashed the rope, and rowed like mad.

Bullets pinged the hull, but they didn't look back.

Turning from the receding hell, the two gasped for air.

How much time passed? Their small boat washed ashore on some nameless coast.

The two collapsed wordlessly on the sand.

After a long silence, Kellogg spoke.

"...I owe you my life. I won't forget this debt."

"Debt, nothing."

Jinwoo gazed at the vast rugged wasteland, replying indifferently.

"If we meet again alive, let's flip this shithole world together."

Kellogg's eyes widened. He nodded, standing.

"Yeah. Let's do it. I'm heading to my hometown, Windhill Village. If you make it, come find me."

Kellogg gripped Jinwoo's shoulder firmly, then walked north.

Jinwoo watched his back until it vanished.

'Kellogg's no mere NPC.'

He recalled.

Kellogg would later lead the rebels against Trade Federation tyranny as supreme commander.

'Key to the true ending!'

If this world wanted a, he had to keep that bond.

A familiar translucent system window appeared before lone Jinwoo.

"As expected."

A faint smile tugged at Jinwoo's lips.

His hunch was right.

This place had a set scenario and endings.

And at the end...

His heart raced.

He could go back.

Clear this damn game, return to his original world!

Then, a new alert appeared.

Jinwoo clenched his fist.

Atlas's Legacy.

The ultimate hidden item, only from multiple playthroughs.

The quest for the Infinite Ammo Pistol.

"Perfect."

He brushed sand from his clothes and stood.

Endless rugged wasteland whipped by sandstorms stretched before him.

No fear. His chest burned hot.

"Time to see the end of this world."