The Mimic Box and the Forgotten God

The alert announcing the activation of a special quest prompted Cheonma to mutter.

-So this is how it turns out. Well, you did beat them way too overwhelmingly.

'A special quest inside a special quest...? Does that happen often?'

-Of course it's rare... but if you're asking if it's absolutely impossible, nah, it's not. The core mechanic is that exceeding a quest's requirements nets you extra rewards. It happened the first time you job-changed to Magic Fist Lord, remember?

'Oh yeah, now that you mention it...'

Back when he'd cleared the "Junk Shop" quest in the beginner city.

The hidden class Magic Fist Lord was originally set as an Epic grade job.

If Carpe had followed the normal procedure and passed the job-change trial, he'd have become an Epic class. But at the time, he'd overachieved the job-change quest with the power of Unlock.

As a reward, his job-change class got bumped up a tier—from the Epic-grade Magic Fist Lord to the Mythic-grade Magical Fist Lord.

'Come to think of it, that was thanks to Unlock too.'

-Yeah. All thanks to that brain-dead dev team's skill. No one with a functioning brain would create such a ridiculous balance-breaking ability.

What kind of skill is this supposed to be? It punches through every hidden piece like it's nothing.

Cheonma was convinced Last Savior had no bugs, but every time Unlock came up, that conviction wavered a little more.

'Hey now. It's the game's first 10-star skill— that's perfectly balanced. 10-star ain't a joke. You're just blinded by jealousy 'cause you hit the god draw. Don't badmouth Unlock.'

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

-Let's drop it. Talking to a guy with no conscience is making my ears hurt.

While Carpe and Cheonma bickered, Treasure cautiously stroked the box.

Perhaps due to countless hands over the ages, the box was worn smooth and glossy in places.

"Carpe. You probably guessed already, but this isn't just any box. It's an Epic-grade treasure box crafted by Kero himself."

"... Epic grade? For real?"

"Indeed. Why would I lie to someone I've already acknowledged?"

"Well, sure, but..."

According to Cheonma's manual, Epic and above could only be obtained through special achievements or events, and treasure boxes topped out at Legendary.

-Uh, well, I don't know everything. I just know what I know. Just what I...

Cheonma trailed off, averting his gaze.

It felt like a system window might pop up any second: Ding! Cheonma Manual trust level slightly decreased.

"It's been passed down from my ancestors' ancestors... from time immemorial. The ultimate box that no treasure goblin has ever opened."

"So, you want me to open it?"

"Yes. I saw potential in you. If anyone can ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠do it—someone more treasure goblin than treasure goblins—it's you. Maybe..."

"...That's a compliment, right?"

"Of course. You're the most treasure goblin-like human I know. Feel proud. Even Dretsch never got praise like this from me."

"...Thanks."

Carpe looked awkward at the extreme praise but stepped up to the Epic box anyway.

"Not like it's hard to try. But this is my first Epic box, so no guarantees."

"Grateful. That's enough."

"Oh, and if I succeed..."

"Of course, a fitting reward. I've already prepared."

Treasure pointed sharply at the Epic box.

"Succeed, and whatever's inside is yours."

"What? Seriously?"

"Of course, I don't know what's inside. Could be something unsatisfying. But since Kero made it himself, it's bound to be extraordinary..."

"No, I mean... it's a divine relic, right? You can just give it away like that?"

It was a natural question for Carpe.

Betting a god's relic as a reward didn't make sense.

They'd cherish and pass it down generations, not wager it.

But Treasure just chuckled at the doubt.

"One misunderstanding. The important thing is the box itself, not the contents."

"Huh, really?"

"Yes. We just want to study the inside. Contents? Take 'em."

"Hmm. In that case."

-Man. A race that stakes their lives on the box itself. Games are games, huh? Wild lore.

'Not that wild. I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠stake my life on boxes too.'

-...Yeah. A very you thing to say, more treasure goblin than treasure goblins.

Unlike goblins, Carpe staked his life on the contents—a minor difference.

"Whew. Here goes."

Carpe steadied his breath and reached for the Epic box.

And then.

"Unlock."

A sensation hit—like something whoosh drained from his body.

Checking his status, MP was down exactly 2,000.

Four times the cost of a LegendaryUnlock.

Click. Clack.

"Ooooh! Lord Kero!"

The locks released, the box sprang open, and Treasure let out a cheer.

Treasure goblins swarmed in, poking and prodding every inch.

"The god's box is open!"

"Meteorite iron! The inside's coated in meteorite iron! Incredible!"

"After thousands of years, the hinges don't even creak! God's craftsmanship!"

"Ooooh! Great Kero!"

They were truly a box-obsessed race.

The box, sealed for millennia, had opened—and not one goblin eyed the contents.

"Carpe! Come check this out. Mmm! Such flawless curved edges! Legendary boxes look embarrassing in comparison!"

"...I'll look at the box later."

For Carpe, contents mattered more.

The moment he leaned in to peek inside.

Grab.

"...Huh?"

A black arm shot out from the box, snatching Carpe.

Gulp!

It swallowed him whole.

"..."

"..."

"..."

The unexpected turn froze everyone.

Moments later, the box reopened—but no trace of Carpe remained.

"No way."

Treasure muttered in dismay.

The clan relic, passed down generations...

"Was a mimic?"

"...What the hell is this situation?"

Carpe furrowed his brow, muttering.

The ambush was too sudden, but even twisting reflexively, he'd been devoured.

"Thought I was done for sure..."

But no.

Regaining his senses, he found himself in a completely different scene from the treasure vault.

A peaceful forest bathed in warm sunlight.

Just like the garden in his Room.

"Huh? Kero's Garden?"

-Hmm. That Epic box must've been some kind of warp item. A device to send the opener to a specific spot. Anyway, Forgotten Divine Realm, huh? Been ages.

In Last Savior, "god" usually meant Patron Spirit, so NPCs called players "emissaries of the gods."

-But the lore has native gods too, beyond Patron Spirits.

Kero, endlessly mentioned by the treasure goblins, was one.

Hidden NPCs called "forgotten gods" or "ancient gods," playing key roles in the lore.

Of course, that reveal was far in the future; only Cheonma knew now.

-They're weakened, pushed out by Patron Spirits, into hiding. Never guessed there'd be a passage inside the Red Tower.

"Ah, got it... Wait, you're fine here, bro? Can't summon retainers."

-Dunno. Irregularity? Special existence dodging system rules...

"Or ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠maybe 'cause you're 0-star, your presence is too negligible?"

-...

Cheonma went silent at Carpe's words.

"What're you muttering about?"

"Huh?"

A beautiful voice from right beside him snapped Carpe's head around.

The space had been empty save for him and Cheonma moments ago.

Turning toward the voice, a stunning woman smiled brightly.

Slitted eyes, gentle smile.

A tall woman with striking fiery red hair.

Guessing her identity was easy—the alert on arrival had hinted.

"Kero?"

"Hee hee. Sharp kid. Yes, I'm Kero."

"...Unexpected. Thought the treasure goblins' god would look like one."

"Oh? Prefer that? I took human form since a human came... But I can match expectations if you want."

"No, this is fine."

"Hee hee hee. I'm not just the goblins' god. God of pranks, treasure boxes, thieves and gamblers too. Oh, disguises."

"Quite the resume."

God of pranks.

Explains the mimic warp gimmick.

"I enchanted the box to invite openers to my garden... You were pretty shocked, huh? Sorry. Thought you'd like it."

"...Five years younger, maybe."

Too old for jack-in-the-boxes now.

"So, why summon me?"

"To give a gift, silly. Can't open the box and get nothing."

"Why not just put the reward inside?"

"As god of pranks and boxes, I can't allow boring staging!"

"..."

Even brief chat revealed her personality.

"Your gift is... this!"

Kero snapped her fingers.

A small potion vial appeared in midair.

"...Whoa."

-This insane game crosses the line again. Legendary+ consumable at this stage?!

Seeing the info, Carpe's hand shot out reflexively.

Whoosh.

"Huh?"

But just before he grabbed it, Kero hid the nectar behind her back.

Carpe eyed her quizzically, but she just beamed.

"...Didn't you say it was a gift?"

"It is. I'll give it. But handing it over plain is boring. Wanna bet?"

"Bet?"

"Yeah. If I lose, you get an extra bottle. If I win..."

"No gift?"

"Nah, can't take back a gift—that's rude. If I win... become my follower. No real duties, just spread the word: 'Believe in Kero on earth.' Easy, right?"

"Sounds culty."

"Culty?! I'm just an unpopular god!"

Kero pouted for the first time.

The deal wasn't bad. No big penalty if he lost.

But.

"Tell me the bet first, then I'll decide."

"Hee hee. Super simple."

Carpe's expression twisted oddly in real-time at her words.

"...Right? Easy? Fifty-fifty odds!"

"That's really it?"

"Yup. Need time to think? I can wait..."

"Let's do it."

"Uh, really?"

"Yeah. Definitely."

"...Feels weird saying this after proposing, but shouldn't you think more? I'm the god of gambling?"

"I'm good."

Carpe's face mirrored when Treasure first suggested "box opening" showdown.

-God of gambling my ass... God of black sheep. Sigh. Fine. Go on, bleed her dry!

Watching Carpe, Cheonma let out a deep sigh.

The 10-Star Player's Lucky Draw