The Tutorial Boss Captivates the Adult Game Heroine
The moment I opened my eyes, a thick stench of bad breath and cheap booze hit me. I clutched my pounding head and sat up. Blinking through the haze, I took in the scene before me and pieced together my situation.
Eck. The tutorial boss from some third-rate adult game. The very first boss who rapes the protagonist. That was me.
Memories flooded back. I glanced around to get my bearings. This was the first floor of the Adventurer's Guild. The air was choked with sweat and the rot of spoiled meat—a perfect medieval dump.
I instinctively rubbed my neck. A chill raced down my spine. I was going to die today.
In the dingy corner of the guild, I spotted a familiar silhouette. A small figure huddled under a worn robe, trembling hands tearing into bread and washing it down with water. On the table lay a black sword without a scabbard, chipped and missing teeth in spots.
I knew who she was.
Elena. The protagonist of this adult game, a genius swordswoman destined to sweep across the continent and claim fame. Right now, she was just a newbie adventurer who'd rushed into this life to pay for her sick little sister's medicine.
In the original script, I'd spout some crap like, "Hey, rookie, need money? I know a good spot," lure her to a dungeon, and get sliced apart by her awakened blade. Sure, I was the villain who took her virginity, but I had zero interest in playing sacrificial lamb.
I shoved back from my seat. The chair scraped loudly across the floor as I stomped over and plopped down across from her. She flinched, shoulders tensing. Her eyes, peeking from under the robe, went wide with terror, shaking like a cornered rat ready to bolt.
"Hey."
My voice came out low and gravelly—unintentionally menacing. Her hand darted toward the sword hilt on the table.
"Kid hauling around something dangerous, huh? Planning to take down monsters with that thing?"
Elena bit her lip.
"...It has nothing to do with you."
"It does. If you go in looking like that and get caught by a monster, we're the ones stuck cleaning up the spawn you pop out."
In adult games like this, women caught by monsters became breeding stock. I pulled a crumpled sheet of parchment from my pocket and slapped it on the table. No guild trash map—this was the real deal, known only to a select few. As a boss-level powerhouse, Eck had access to legit intel.
Elena's gaze flicked to the map, then back to me, brimming with suspicion. Fair enough. In this world, strangers offering favors were either con artists or lunatics. Adventurers who didn't suspect every "nice" gesture ended up buried.
Her reaction was spot on for the protagonist.
"At the second fork from the forest entrance, go right. Left's a toad trap—get caught once, and you're done."
"...Why tell me this?"
"Told you. Too much hassle dealing with extra monsters because of you." I drummed my fingers on the table. "And those black-maned wolves near the entrance? Don't aim for the neck. Mane's too tough for that sword of yours—it won't even scratch. Go for the belly. Not the head, idiot."
Her eyes widened. She wavered as I revealed monster patterns—adventurer goldmines. For a total noob like her, knowing wolf weak spots versus not was a game-changer, even for something common. Sure, she came from a hunter family, but it was in ruins now. She'd butchered meat, maybe, but never hunted live game.
"Don't get greedy on attacks. That's when you're most vulnerable to counters. You'll just end up bedridden, blowing your cash on meds."
Her eyes flashed at "meds"—the whole reason she was here. A healthy dose of wariness was good for her.
"Wanna bet?"
I fished three silver coins from my pocket. Eck's finances were solid—tutorial boss perks, strutting through back alleys like he owned them. Better off than my old self.
"Five wolf pelts by sundown. Bring 'em, and these are yours. Fail..." I trailed off with a smirk. Her face hardened. "...and that sword's mine. Can't even handle that much? You're just dead weight in the woods."
"..."
No downside for her. That blade was junk anyway— it'd snap in days. She glanced between the coins and my face, then nodded firmly.
"...Deal."
"Go. Before the sun sets."
She snatched the map and bolted from the guild. I leaned back, exhaling deeply.
In the script, she'd get lost in a dungeon today, caught by a toad monster, and lay its eggs. Mid-bosses had those "learn the hard way" patterns. No clue how the protagonist escaped post-capture in reality, but game patterns matched Eck's real-world knowledge. Depending on her route, she'd croak to the toad before I even got my shot.
Even if she ignores me and gets nabbed, it'll just make my advice more credible come crisis time. Win-win.
Follow it, and she'd grow faster. My goal was simple: shift her view from "must-kill enemy" to "useful old-timer with tips."
Killing her now would be easy, but no. She needed to level up for the main story to progress, reignite dulled vigilance against peace-bloated complacency, and prep for the monster wave. Fail, and the city falls— in this monster-infested world, that's apocalypse-level.
Plus, she'd outpace me soon. Game timeline: S-rank in under a year. Monster.
"Jeina! Beer here!"
Crisis averted for today. If I hadn't recalled in time, I'd have earned her hate. Nothing scarier than pissing off the future world-beater.
This body had less patience than I'd thought. My leg bounced under the table, screaming cabin fever. Dusk crept in outside. Sun dipping low.
Wolf monsters were the wimpiest of aggressives—barely stronger than a lone goblin. Hunter family kid like her wouldn't fumble the pelts. I knew her lore inside out. This "adult game soulslike" had depth in its setups. Combat hooked me; I'd played it plenty.
Did she fail? She wasn't a player now—just a green girl with zero fights. Common sense said no way a normal chick bags five wolves.
Telling her to die, basically. Game versus reality gap. Booze fading, doubt crept in.
Then the guild door swung open. Sunset rays sliced the room long. A staggering shadow backlit by the glow.
I recognized her and finally relaxed, schooling my face.
Elena trudged up. Thud. A heavy sack hit the table.
"Check it."
Her voice cracked with exhaustion. I untied the knot. Damp fur bundles. One, two, three... five. Wolf pelts, as bet.
"Rough shape."
I grumbled on purpose, retying it. "Blood not cleaned right—pelts'll spoil. No full price like this."
Her brow furrowed, eyes flashing injustice. Lip jutted out.
"A bet's a bet."
I stacked the three silvers neatly before her. Her face lit up instantly. Figured she'd braced for excuses or a no-pay.
She snatched them, stuffing into her robe like a wary stray cat guarding scraps.
"Why help me?"
Suspicion lingered. Naturally. No free lunches.
"Don't flatter yourself. Not helping you. Just hate seeing monster numbers spike." I nodded at the sack. "Besides, sell those at market, you net five silvers. I sit here, pocket two. Call it my fee for info and hassle. Fair trade."
Market rate was real, but the angle? Frame it as pure profit, not pity. She'd sniff out charity like blood in water.
Protagonist for a sister-saving questline, she seemed emotional at a glance. But deep down? Ice-cold analyst, dissecting monster patterns mid-trauma.
She shut her mouth, convinced. Relieved to be "used," even.
"Go. Wash up, sleep. Gotta hit it again tomorrow."
I waved her off. She bowed quick, turned—wobble. Body swayed on the first step. Tension snap.
Bandages peeked from her robe on her calf—wolf bite. In this freak-recovery world, it'd heal with spit. But it'd still drag her down, mess hunts.
"Hold up."
She froze.
"Where you going on that leg? Go if you want, but treat it first."
"...Just a scrape."
"Not getting it. Who knows hunting better, you or me? Too lazy to explain—use this."
I dug out a small, flat glass vial. Emergency low-grade potion. Eck's hidden pattern: chug it at zero HP for a critical hit on the player.
I tossed it; she fumbled the catch.
"Drink and crash. Good as new by morning."
"How much?"
"Freebie. Suckers always repay freebies, right? You?"
"..."
I sank deep into the chairback.
"Skip tomorrow if you want. Ten goblin ears. Pay's four silvers."
"Huh?"
"Hunt goblins, come back."
Her eyes shook. Goblins: infamous inside and out. Kill men, rape women. Males go nuts for females, kidnap first. Classic adult-game trash mob: capture, violate, breed.
But post-wolves, a goblin swarm was doable.
She gripped the potion tight.
"...Five silvers."
"What?"
"Five silvers for ten goblins."
Hah. Haggling? Ballsy.
"Fine. But terms." I pointed at her waist. "Job done, ditch that junk sword. Weapon care's adventuring 101. Risking your neck on trash?"
"But the money..."
"Money later. Yes or no."
She pondered, nodded.
"See you tomorrow."
Short farewell, and she left the guild.