First Blood and the Status Window
Dorne let out a ragged breath as he stepped away from the hobgoblin's corpse. The pool of blood was incomparable to what he'd seen from regular goblins. A single glancing blow from his club had splashed into the puddle, spattering his face and yellow padded armor with gore.
He'd thought snagging a small goblin for easy magic stones would be a breeze, but something felt off. The dead hobgoblin looked gruesome—its skull smashed like a burst watermelon, fingers twisted in every direction, arm bones snapped, legs rigidly extended, and a flood of blood. His eyes drifted to the exit portal shimmering in the corner of the clearing.
Objectively, it had been an easy win. Aside from a scratch on his padded armor from the thrashing hobgoblin's nails, Dorne was unscathed. The beast had charged in boldly, they'd exchanged one clash, and it had flopped over dead. But psychologically? Not so easy.
When Dorne had plunged into Layer 1 of the labyrinth, he hadn't prepared himself to slaughter something this huge, human-sized, so mercilessly. He'd done it himself, but the sight of the hobgoblin convulsing its limbs without daring to resist was chilling.
Of course, if he ran into another one right now, he'd smash it without mercy. But there was no need. The exit portal was right there, and he could re-enter anytime he wanted. Labyrinth entry was free. He could head out, check the price of his two magic stones, and dive back in without issue.
"Sssuuup... Hooo..."
Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he wiped the blood from his face with his leather glove, then cleaned the glove on his padded armor.
"Alright, hobgoblin. You've got talent. It's just not for me."
Dorne hurriedly pulled a dagger from his discarded bag.
"Gotta do what I've gotta do!"
He scraped at the hobgoblin's chest with the blade tip.
"Yeah, tougher and thicker than a regular goblin's."
After more than ten scrapes, the sturdy breastbone and a fingernail-sized magic stone emerged.
"Good. Let's get out for now. Sell the stone, sort my thoughts, then head back in."
Dorne pocketed the hobgoblin's magic stone—far larger than a regular goblin's—in his wallet (leather pouch) and checked his gear. He brushed off his shield and club, secured them to his belt, wiped the dagger clean on the hobgoblin's skin, stowed it in his bag, slung the bag over his shoulder, picked up the lantern illuminating the gruesome scene in one hand, and patted the bloodied padded armor.
He headed straight for the dimly glowing exit portal.
"Hmm... Short time, but worth it for a Supernatural Ability, right? Took down Layer 1's boss, the hobgoblin... They say it's super rare—how'd it pop up right away? No lottery in Labyrinth City?"
According to the booklet, killing monsters definitely granted abilities, but no one knew how many kills it took. Dorne glanced at the sprawled hobgoblin, touched the portal with his free hand, and his form crumbled like sand and vanished along with it.
The blue light filling his vision flickered from the edges and faded. He'd arrived via the exit portal at a clearing a short distance from the labyrinth entrance portal. Explorers exiting like him were heading toward the street with the Labyrinth Guild.
"Ugh!"
Dorne winced as his scalp burned like someone was branding it with a hot iron.
Does a tattoo appear on the scalp too?
It wasn't in the booklet. According to it, humanity's domain centered on the Capital with four labyrinths—east, west, south, north. Each granted abilities specialized by role: "Specialized Supernatural Ability," tattooed only on the torso below the neck. Universal ones from all labyrinths, "Common Supernatural Ability," went only on the limbs. Neck, face, and head were tattoo-free... but Dorne's occiput was getting one now.
"Ugh... Hurts more than I thought. Not as bad as a real tattoo, though."
As the searing faded, Dorne blinked and rubbed the back of his head. Something flickered. Sensing the oddity, he closed his eyes gently, and Korean text floated in the darkness.
"Ha... Finally, the Status Window..."
Dorne closed his eyes, pumping his fist in triumph under the hot sun on his face.
As a reincarnator, getting the status window I deserve... Nah, better late than never—thanks!
He snapped to attention, moved to the clearing's edge, and closed his eyes again.
The status window's source was his new 【Self-Contemplation】 ability. Focusing on the text brought up a description.
Close your eyes to contemplate yourself.
Those with 【Self-Contemplation】 can choose 1 of 3 options when acquiring a new ability.
It appeared! Finally!
The late reincarnator perk hit Dorne like a wave of ecstasy, his body trembling. Not just viewing his status window, but uniquely choosing from options when gaining abilities—irreplaceable value. Through his closed eyelids, a brilliant future flashed by.
Clear metrics to guide growth, cherry-pick the best abilities from options, dodge trash ones, build perfect combos like a game character—a top-tier labyrinth explorer.
Sell the stones and dive back in. The high-roller explorer life beckons.
Dorne grabbed just his (former) wallet (now magic stone pouch) from his bag and headed back to the Labyrinth Guild where he'd gotten the booklet.
Per the booklet, the guild was run directly by the royal family in the Capital with its four labyrinths. Like King Donald's on Earth (more like city hall, but the franchise-only fact stuck in reincarnated Dorne's mind).
They distributed beginner booklets, bought magic stones (the main labyrinth byproduct) for maintenance of stone-dependent facilities, and circulated the surplus.
Dorne entered the bustling guild building, slung his slim bag, and joined the line of explorers.
"Hmm... First-timer? Rookie explorer?"
The guy ahead, arms crossed with massive forearms stacked, spoke up. Fitting for a warrior-specialized East Labyrinth City guild.
"Ah, yes. You look experienced, sir."
"Wahaha! 'Sir'? Come on."
Pleased by the title, the burly man patted Dorne's bag with his rough, huge hand. As the line shortened and split by counter, they wrapped up.
"Hey, rookie. Beers later—my treat for a fresh explorer."
"Ah, yes. Thanks."
Playing the modern guy card often brought unexpected luck. Dorne entered a counter with walls on three sides and a curtain over the entrance. Inside: a built-in table sized perfectly for the scale, and a guild staffer beyond.
"Magic stones are 50 copper per gram. Place on the scale."
Dorne wordlessly upended his leather pouch on the scale. The larger and smaller stones clinked down without shaking.
"4.2g—2 silver, 10 copper. First labyrinth run?"
"Yes, first time."
The staffer counted coins from the till.
"No explorer tag from the guild yet, then. Get one, and we can hold low-unit copper until it rolls up to silver or gold for next payout. FYI."
"Ah, thanks."
The staffer handed over silver and copper; Dorne verified, bowed slightly, and exited. He pocketed the coins in his (now) wallet (leather pouch) and stashed it inside his padded armor.
Soon, the massive-forearm senior emerged from the next counter.
"Hey! Rookie, beers. Got an inn?"
"No. Hit the city, read the booklet, dove right in. Entered around dinner—it's morning now."
"What? Lightning-roast-bean style for a rookie? First I've seen! Looked mild-mannered, but reckless streak, huh?"
Dorne and the burly explorer walked side-by-side out of the guild.
He could've defended against "reckless," but just nodded instead of nitpicking.
"One run, and yeah, seems hasty."
"Anyway, know a spot with decent food, rooms, fair prices. Helped me as a newbie."
"Thanks. Was worrying about it."
They headed from the city center—labyrinth entrance and guild—to the outskirts.
"Good stuff's near the guild; cheap or fair near edges. Handy tip."
"Got it. Thanks for the advice."
Soon, the destination appeared. The senior pointed at the inn sign.
"Beginner Forge Inn? Unique name."
"Asked the owner—fair prices and service for all-race rookies, like a beginner forge melting everyone together."
On Earth, "race" meant skin color; here, it encompassed fantasy races. Plain humans, beastkin hybrids, long-eared long-lived elves, squat dwarves—all humanity's One Team against vile monsters. Skin tone was like eye folds or dimples.
Thus, "Beginner Forge" implied a melting pot for humans, beastkin, elves, dwarves.
The senior grabbed the wide-open inn doorframe, locking eyes with Dorne.
"Anyway, no racist talk or brawls here. Got it?"
"Yes. No worries."
The senior entered, nodded to the owner, ordered two stews and two beers. Morning, so the dining hall was quiet: six 4-person tables, short wall benches.
"Their roast chicken's good—try when you've got spare coin."
"Yes, noted."
"Name's Kerolf. Yours? How was today's labyrinth?"
"Nice to meet you, Kerolf. I'm Dorne. The labyrinth... needed more resolve than expected. Met a hobgoblin today."
Kerolf's eyes lit up at the reckless rookie's tale of encountering a hobgoblin on day one and surviving. He slammed the table.
"Hobgoblin day one and lived? Impressive! Spill."
Dorne calmly recounted the fight to the intrigued Kerolf. After hearing it all, Kerolf eyed him anew.
"Hmm. Reckless, but calm and bold. Explorer material."
"Kerolf, mind if I ask something?"
"Shoot. What's up?"
Kerolf gulped his beer—arrived before stew—and replied.
"Yeah, ask away."
"How do explorers descend to lower layers? Booklet says the labyrinth's huge inside, so finding fixed portals to the next floor seems tough and time-consuming. Just luck? And packing food to last that long... tough even if you decide to go."