Abyss City 1.0: Doubts in the Dark
Blonde hair like threads of pure gold, and pointed ears symbolizing the race of beauty.
Paradoxically, the princess who possessed those had nothing at all.
A pitch-black room where even electricity barely reached.
The only furnishings were a bed that creaked every time she lay down, and a table crammed full of firearms and their parts.
That was everything.
"…."
She silently loaded magazines and inspected her guns.
Click! Clack! Clack!
The massive sniper rifle that had once terrified her when she first held it was now her one and only friend and pillar of support.
'Tired.'
Finishing her maintenance, the girl removed the goggles from her head and plopped down on the edge of the bed.
She didn't lie down.
Sitting there, she buried her face in her hands and quietly steadied her breathing.
Lately, whenever she was alone, these moments of stillness had been piling up.
So much so that she felt like she could stay like this forever.
'Mom… Dad….'
To the princess, life in Tigrova was as good as nonexistent in her memories.
Her last recollection of Tigrova was reading a picture book in a vast room.
It was from her childhood days, waiting in a lavish chamber for her parents to return.
She had been too young to learn anything substantial, too immature to form a solid sense of self.
And then, out of nowhere, the elders had come, dragging her away by the hand, insisting she had to flee.
In the chaos of running away, ignorant of the situation, all she heard was that her parents had been killed by the new ruler of Tigrova, the Snow Tiger Emperor.
That the Snow Tiger Emperor was trying to wipe out the elf royalty, so she had to escape—that was the end of it.
It was far too cruel a story for a young princess to comprehend.
With her mind shattered, she had no time to gather herself before being raised in the boondocks as a bullet to reclaim Tigrova.
— Princess. Humans and beastkin have blood as filthy as Satan's.
— Do not mix words with any race but elves. They are loathsome creatures with lying tongues ever ready to spew deceit.
— You are the last remaining royal. You must take responsibility for us and lead us.
— To harbor such doubts… has your thirst for vengeance against the previous king faded?
— No matter what, we will uphold you as our leader. Our very existence is your proof.
'Head hurts.'
Words she'd heard repeated from childhood right up to now, for far too long.
Now, in quiet places, they echoed like hallucinations. They even cropped up frequently in her dreams.
"…."
But the girl's spirit was firmer than anyone's.
Despite the long years of psychological suppression, her mind still held its shape.
The elders didn't know that the doubts she'd harbored since the past had never fully vanished.
'I have to get back to the city somehow.'
The elders absolutely forbade any outside contact, insisting that royal blood couldn't mingle with baseborn filth.
The first time she'd been caught, they'd scolded her so harshly it left a trauma, but she hadn't given up yet.
She needed evidence to prove her actions were justified.
She wanted to know exactly what had happened on the day Tigrova's ruler changed.
The princess had tried digging for the truth behind the elders' backs, but publicly available records had clear limits.
No matter how hard she searched, she couldn't find solid information about her parents.
Everywhere she looked, it ended with the fact that Tigrova's ruler had shifted from elves to white tiger beastkin.
'There has to be information somewhere….'
Knock knock knock.
The rapping at the door ended her reverie—and her brief rest.
Her face, buried in her hands, faced reality once more.
— Princess. Are you inside?
An elder's voice.
The girl swallowed the suffocating sensation and replied.
"What is it?"
— Precious guests will arrive soon. Please come out to greet them.
"…."
For once, no retort came to mind.
Her mind was wearier than her body; she didn't want to move. But she couldn't say that to the elder.
As the lengthy silence stretched,
the elder followed up with his familiar refrain.
— Honored guests require fitting treatment. With the previous king gone, it's only right that you go, Princess.
"…Understood."
She barely suppressed the sigh threatening to escape.
Rising from the bed, the princess began lightly arming herself.
Stepping out into the night streets, Rohan first fiddled with his smartphone.
He made sure no calls, messages, or notifications would ring or vibrate.
In the midst of setting that up,
he noticed Ichinose's profile picture had changed to a cat.
'Cute.'
For some reason, it felt like an omen that things would go smoothly.
His steps felt lighter.
'Let's go.'
He checked routes in the bustling district and caught a bus just about to depart.
Post-rush hour, there was plenty of seating.
He inserted his token and sat.
No office workers inside, but the air hung heavy with booze from revelers who'd enjoyed their night out.
"…."
Screech! He cracked a window for some ventilation.
Basking in the cool, fresh air, Rohan organized his information.
'Main story starts with Shattered Crown Act 1.'
He reviewed internet news and quests meticulously, checking for anything missed.
In the jostling bus, Rohan's eyes focused sharply on the text.
— Tracing his last call with an acquaintance suggests he was ambushed mid-shoot. According to materials released by the Elysium Security Bureau, only a severed leg remained at the scene….
'This guy's just a fool who wandered into the forbidden zone where those bastards were, chasing shock content.'
That was the whole trigger for the incident. Nothing more, nothing less.
Abyss City gamers neither knew the channel run by this 30-something creator nor what he looked like.
To them, he was just the starting point of the main quest.
'The key point.'
The perpetrators had already fled far away.
And they'd committed the crime purely for kicks, unrelated to any commission.
On their way to meet the old elves—the clients—they'd done it out of habit.
Rohan's gaze shifted to the quest window.
Then he dismissed it and looked up at the bus ceiling.
'Those scum.'
The old elves scheming to reclaim glory using the princess as a weapon knew one chance was all they got, and what failure meant.
That's why they acted with extreme caution and insidiousness.
"…."
To confiscate those geezers' dentures, the group Rohan would face was similar yet different from last time.
It served to scout Noah Frozenheart's range of activity and usual routes, but they weren't hired solely for that.
They were also there to detect any bodyguards the Snow Tiger Emperor might have planted to protect his daughter.
'They're not putting Noah in mortal danger with brute force.'
Even so, these were far pricier and more professional than the Yard Pound brothers, with skills and tech perfect for sleazy jobs like theft or surveillance.
Which had Rohan mulling over Abyss City's launch day.
He racked his brain to recall every tantalizing detail of that main story tease.
'Normally, to uncover the culprits from the start….'
The quest kicked off by gathering rumors amid murmuring citizens spooked by grim news, pinpointing the disappearance site.
Next, scouting suspected accident zones and spotting security officers blocking entry.
Then, sneaking past Elysium Security Bureau sightlines to infiltrate and collect evidence.
Finishing that marked a rough circular spot on the map's corner.
Followed by more exploration time sink.
'Following the game exactly would make me slower than the cops. Hell, dodging sightlines like in-game isn't even possible here.'
The Elysium Security Bureau wasn't some incompetent public force.
Guarding Academy City meant packed with elites, and joining was notoriously tough—mentioned repeatedly.
A setting glossed over in Abyss City now shone in reality.
So Rohan would skip the middle steps and head straight for the result again.
He didn't know what shortcuts would spawn in reality, but it was the only clear path he had.
— Next stop….
Beep!
Rohan pressed the exit bell to get off the bus.
Even in Academy City, there were places still hard to call "Academy City."
Rohan followed his memory under a bridge devoid of light.
He arrived at an industrial complex where development had stalled long-term due to corporate bankruptcy.
He minimized his footsteps.
Sticking to shadows, avoiding half-dead streetlights flickering like dying blinks.
'There.'
Deeper in, three vehicles with engines running came into view. One dump truck loaded with containers, two sedans.
Two idled empty at the wheel; only the front sedan had someone aboard.
Its driver giggled at his smartphone.
Light spilled from inside.
Tattoos symbolizing his affiliation covered everywhere but his face.
'The rest went scouting.'
No angle showed anyone else. No one lounging either.
No passengers, but a firearm sat shotgun.
"…."
For certainty, Rohan closed his eyes and pricked his ears.
Beyond the heavy engine drone, distant metal clinks and cackling laughter carried.
'Good. Right now.'
Decent distance—strike now if at all.
Rohan sought the ideal spot and moved.
'As fast as possible.'
This wasn't the rendezvous with the elves.
But thieves gonna thief—like sparrows can't pass a mill unscathed.
These guys had swung by the abandoned complex to scavenge valuables and dump accumulated bodies.
Rustle. Rustle.
Rohan crouched low, sound muffled, and yanked a handful of weeds from the ground.
Dipped them lightly in stagnant muddy water.
The fierce night wind was perfect.
Thwack!
Part of the weeds Rohan flung stuck to the side mirror like hair.
Won't hinder driving, but it'd flap annoyingly.
Did he notice?
Whirr— The driver's window rolled down.
"Fuckin'… filthy."
The driver reached to brush off the grassy muck, cursing.
Rohan lunged forward, knife in one hand, slamming the driver's arm down viciously.
Crunch!
The arm bent in a direction it shouldn't.
Eyes widened in shock. Mouth and gut heaved, priming a scream.
"Shh."
Rohan crammed a sock into the gaping maw, then thrust the knife like lightning, burying it deep in the throat.
"Mmph, mmf—!!!"
He twisted the lodged blade savagely.