Chapter 1
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 01
Chapter Title: A Weed-Like Life
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It was a weed-like life.
I was originally a slave who farmed the fields.
My days consisted of working like an ox from sunrise to sunset, collapsing into bed when the moon rose.
I had no family or relatives. Being naturally taciturn by nature, I hardly had any friends either.
Then war broke out, and I was dragged into the army.
Sold off would be more accurate. I was just cannon fodder to fill the ranks.
I traded my plow for a sword hilt and cut down grown men's heads instead of weeds.
Surprisingly, being a soldier suited me.
I always fought like a mad spirit.
Even with bones broken and flesh torn, I pressed forward, never yielding to any formidable foe.
Even when I'd lost so much blood that my vision blurred, I stubbornly rose and plunged my blade into an enemy's heart.
There was only one reason. To survive.
Did that desperate struggling catch the eye of the higher-ups?
By the time the war ended, I had become a formal soldier, no longer a slave.
Looking back, those were my happiest days.
I had comrades, and though the pay was meager, I received compensation for my labor.
Above all, I never went hungry.
Around ten years later, an order came from above to die.
They didn't explicitly say "commit suicide," of course.
The mission they assigned was just utterly absurd.
Ordering a single platoon to hold off an army of otherworldly fiends? I was dumbfounded.
It was the height of injustice, but I followed orders.
Someone had to do it eventually.
What happened next is obvious.
I fought. As always, I fought to survive.
I was drenched in blood and guts enough to drown in them. I cleaved through every enemy in my path.
My comrades fell one by one. When I came to, I was the only one left.
Still, I kept advancing.
Until the very end arrived.
When I could no longer see or hear anything, a thought flashed through my mind.
Would anyone remember me?
Would there be any proof I ever existed in this world?
Of course not.
And so I died.
My body was never recovered.
My charred and shattered bones crumbled into the foreign soil, miles from home.
It was a weed-like life.
Springing up by the roadside, vanishing before anyone noticed.
A pathetic weed no one, including myself, remembered the name of.
The self-introduction of the DLC additional character, the Nameless Hero, ended there.
The armored man silently returned to his place.
As I stared at the screen in stunned silence, system messages popped up one after another.
※ Ending the self-introduction of the soul 'Nameless Hero'.
※ This introduction is based on the soul's final memories. The Nameless Hero's own will is not reflected.
※ Returning to character selection screen.
The view, which had been focused on the Nameless Hero, pulled back, revealing the character selection screen that appears when starting a new game.
In the grand hall of a splendid palace stood over a dozen distinctive figures.
A massive brute covered head to toe in muscle clashed the axes in his hands together with a clang.
"Come with me! The wolf of these great plains will show you destruction!"
"Nonsense. I, the master of the Azure Mage Tower, am the one worthy of the regression blessing. Choose wisely."
This time, an elderly man in an ornate robe offered a silent bow.
These were the playable characters who could become the game's protagonist.
All of them were vying for my attention as the player.
All except one.
"……."
The Nameless Hero, now back in his spot, stood with his head bowed in silence.
He was in a dim corner that received no light.
His face was hidden by his helmet.
When I hovered the mouse cursor over him, a brief description finally appeared.
Nameless Hero. Wilted Weed.
It was completely different from the other characters' descriptions.
No lengthy backstory, not even a simple pitch.
Wilted weed, huh.
I couldn't hold back and shouted in an awestruck voice.
"……This is romance!!"
Not satisfied with that, I jumped to my feet and gave a standing ovation.
I couldn't help looking like a total nerd.
A hero who fulfilled his duty to the end and withered away, forgotten by all.
What a heart-stirring backstory!
"No wonder the DLC took so long to release. Worth the wait."
Overimmersion isn't healthy, but my natural tendencies were hard to fight.
I calmed my excitement and sat back down.
Return Lord, the game where you pour your post-retirement life into.
An open-world RPG famous for its captivating world, high freedom, and high-quality character narratives.
The star-favored archmage.
The highland barbarian who devours enemy abilities.
The demon-blooded witch with an outrageously stunning figure.
And many more characters excelling in their fields.
The player's goal: choose one, regress them, and grant a new life.
The Nameless Hero was the new DLC addition released today.
"Gotta go with the Nameless Hero."
The others were appealing, but none had this impact.
No reason to pick anyone else anyway.
Why? I'd already played them all.
I entered a casual name and proceeded to character creation proper.
No need for customization.
Since protagonists are regressors, there was no such feature to begin with.
All I could do was think "Wow, pretty/cool!" or "What a mess. Was the designer blind?"
The Nameless Hero uncle's helmet made him a bit iffy, but since he was a dude, it didn't matter much.
"Alright, let's see the unique trait."
The real important part started now.
Unique trait check.
In Return Lord, you could acquire various traits and skills through play, but each character's unique trait was irreplaceable.
Not just in performance, but as the core concept defining the character, builds were usually tailored around them.
"Already smells like trash, though……."
Honestly, I wasn't expecting much.
Given the concept, it was likely some worthless trait.
Starting stats were just a bit above average human level too.
Click.
I clicked without prejudice, and the info appeared.
Tenacity of the Weed: Growth speed increases each time hardship is overcome.
A succinct sentence, just like his self-introduction.
I blinked, then leaned right up to the monitor.
Making sure I wasn't seeing things.
Once I confirmed my eyesight was fine, curses spilled out automatically.
"What the hell is this monster?"
A shiver ran down my spine.
Most might think it was meh.
But I knew this was an absurdly broken trait.
The lack of verbose explanations was proof.
Not some shady sales tactic like a 50% off coupon (min purchase 100k won, max 500 won discount!).
"No upper limit? For real?"
Growth traits usually specify exact limits.
Otherwise, endless power creep would shatter balance worse than chewed gum.
Of course, this one had penalties too.
Probably snail-slow initial growth, like a slug with ALS.
Even accounting for that, it was plenty strong.
"Sick. Heroes are heroes after all."
Dopamine surged.
Haven't even started, and it's already fun.
My head was already filled with Nameless Hero build ideas.
This uncle was no fodder to wither as a weed.
Just bad luck.
So what if he's a weed?
Once you nurture it, it's no weed anymore.
I was confident I could make this weed bloom flowers the size of a house.
"Screw you, Nameless Hero. I'll make you famous."
Muttering that, I hit the start button.
Click. Screen transitioned.
The illustration that appears every new game start loaded.
This time, the Nameless Hero kneeling on one knee, sword plunged into the ground.
The blade was fully chipped.
Dark green moss covered his shattered armor.
Suddenly, a small message window appeared below the loading art.
【Last.】
A short but nagging sentence.
I didn't recall seeing this with other characters.
Last what?
Whoosh—!
As the question arose, blinding light burst from the monitor.
"You lazy maggot bastards! Get up right now!"
What woke the boy was an angry roar and a kick from someone.
"Ugh!"
Thud! A dull impact hit his rear.
His small body bounced away.
The boy rolled two full turns before staggering to his feet.
As his shaky vision focused, a hulking brute with bulging neck veins screaming came into view.
"The boss is away from the fortress—don't think you can slack off! You're slaves! Burn this into your brains like a tattoo: laziness means death!"
He gripped a club in one hand.
His burly forearm was as thick as the boy's waist.
The boy, still not grasping the situation, groaned.
The kicked spot throbbed too realistically for a dream.
'Boss? Slaves?'
The boy slowly looked around.
He stood inside a rundown wooden building.
The air reeked of rotten wood. Dawn light filtered through a small window.
It looked like a barn or warehouse at a glance.
"Ugh…… uuuu……."
"Another day begins……."
Around a dozen men crowded the space.
From boys his age to white-haired elders, ages varied widely.
All wore filthy rags and leg irons. It didn't take long for the boy to notice he was dressed the same.
Suddenly, the giant flung open the barn door.
"Work starts now! Farming team, move out!"
"Move out!"
A middle-aged man shot his hand up in response.
The man passed the giant and exited, followed by two others.
How the hell did this beggar-like mess happen?
As the boy racked his brain—
"Bran! What're you waiting for?"
A whisper came from behind.
He turned to see a pale-faced blond boy.
He alternated terrified glances between the boy and the club-wielding brute.
"……Ah."
The boy's eyes widened.
He had a rough idea of the situation now.
Bran. A familiar name.
He shook his head vigorously to clear his vision and bolted for the door.
"Sorry I'm late!"
"You gonna shape up or not?!"
The brute growled, raising his club.
Luckily, no beating ensued.
The moment he stepped out, the interior of a fortress ringed by massive walls unfolded before him.
A familiar sight. Familiar enough to sketch on paper as a map.
Just that last time, he'd seen it from his room with the computer.
The blond boy's words echoed in his ears.
"Bran, huh."
Definitely the name he'd given his character.
And so the man became the Nameless Hero.
More precisely, the pitiful slave boy before withering as the Nameless Hero.
Bran let out a hollow chuckle, reaffirming this wasn't a dream.
"We're screwed."
His job: slave.
Workplace: Black Stone Fortress.
The Crow Bandits' infamous lair in these parts.