Deckard didn’t take long to reach a decision. First, he had to evaluate if he was useless in a fight. He had only fought one battle so far, and it was hasty to conclude that he couldn’t carry his weight in a dungeon run.
After getting some distance from Gull Rock, he spotted a lone seagull.
Diseased Seagull
Lvl. 2
Hp: 100
????
It was similar to the ones near the village. Since his unseemly battle, Deckard hadn’t gained any new attributes, but he did have a couple of pieces of equipment. They should make him more resistant to a seagull’s attack and increase his safety margin in a fight.
He made sure there were no seagulls that could sneak up on him while he fought. Determined, he grabbed his wooden sword and struck the seagull in the head.
-6
The seagull reacted immediately, screeching and flapping its wings in protest.
Deckard gulped, holding his sword up and bracing for the next attack. The seagull lunged at him, but he managed to stumble out of its way. It wasn’t graceful, but it was still better than getting hit. He swung at the seagull again, but it dodged.
Miss!
He didn’t give up, taking another step forward and striking the seagull’s wing in an upward slash.
-5
What followed was a clumsy neck-to-neck battle where both he and the seagull dodged each other’s attacks.
Deckard sidestepped a clumsy peck, and managed to hit the seagull on its back.
-6
You've beaten [Diseased Seagull].
+10XP
When the seagull burst into specks of light, it dropped some coins and a feather.
You've picked up 4 coppers.
You've picked up [Diseased Feather].
Diseased Feather (Common)
Description: A feather of a diseased seagull. Its toxins can be refined by chemists.
Deckard reflected on his first victorious battle. He was down to 30HP. It wasn’t great, but it was progress.
He picked up the loot and waited for his HP and energy to recover. Feeling slightly more confident, he engaged the next seagull. Now that he was getting used to the seagulls’ attack patterns, he wasn’t as panicked. He managed to whittle down its health until it disappeared, earning him a few more coins and a feather as a reward.
Deckard’s confidence grew, but then something unexpected happened. As he was about to finish his third seagull, another mob spawned nearby.
Something stronger than him triggered as he found himself outnumbered again. Flashes of memories of bullies ganging up on him took over. He became flustered, and everything turned into a blur. He managed to finish off the first seagull, but his rattled state made him lose his cool, and he had to flee from the second one before it killed him.
Catching his breath, Deckard looked at the beach crawling with seagulls. I wonder if the dungeon is like this. Deckard did something he’d been avoiding doing as much as possible since he joined the game. He opened a web browser. He quickly found a video of a Gull Rock run.
Five players fought bravely as they fought twenty seagulls. Deckard gulped. If he could barely handle two seagulls, how was he supposed to survive a swarm of them while keeping track of his teammates?
The players in the video had better equipment than him and used flashy skills. Many of them Deckard didn’t recognize, but one caught his eye. A player used telekinesis to pick up pebbles and throw them at the enemy. That had to be the [Throw Rocks] card. The player complemented it with creating clouds of ghastly poison. [Seagull Poison], Deckard realized.
This player was aiming to be a long-range fighter, an esper. While others stayed in the middle of the chaos, espers calmly attacked from the backlines. Maybe that was the fighting style that suited Deckard the most.
Should he just learn the [Throw Rocks] card? Deckard did have it. He took it out and stared at it, comparing its skill version to what it did in Terralore.
Throw Rocks (Common)
Skill description: Your mind’s potential is slowly awakening, and you can move some small objects with it.
Skill effects:
Active skill. Channel for 2 seconds and then throw 1-3 rocks toward a target as far as 5 meters away;
Damage slightly scales with wisdom and intelligence.
He sighed deeply. He couldn’t bring himself to do it. After giving away so many cards to Ratu, he didn’t want to lose any more.
Even if he did learn it, though, would that make any difference? Did he even have time to train himself to become a better party member? He glanced at the clock. It was 2 a.m. For some reason, Ronan seemed to hate sunlight, and Deckard couldn’t help but feel that was relevant. Still, there was no way he could become a decent party member that quickly, even if he learned [Throw Rocks].
He headed to the dungeon entrance, considering his options. Just then, he overheard a kid talking.
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"Offering IRL credits for dungeon carry. Twenty credits per party member," the kid said. Deckard watched the kid curiously. He wanted others to do the heavy lifting for him in the dungeon while he just sat back and enjoyed their hard work. Perhaps that was the solution to his problem, too.
Twenty credits per party member. If four people carry him, that’s eighty credits! This kid’s parents have to be rich! Deckard could buy a week’s worth of groceries with that money. Is that how much I’ll have to pay? Deckard asked himself, clenching his teeth. It wasn’t that he didn’t have money in his account, but he didn’t like spending unnecessarily. That was the only way he could pay his mother’s nursing home expenses while maintaining his gaming career.
Yet, he saw no other way to complete the dungeon. It’s alright, Deckard. You got the capsule and the game for free. Consider this the investment to get you started. With a sigh, he decided to pay for the carry.
Despite how generous the offer of the rich kid was, no one was stepping forward. That meant that his offer was at market price. Shrugging, he copied the kid’s message and stood by his side. “Paying 20 credits per player who will carry me.”
The kid, sensing competition, frowned at him.
“Hi,” he greeted him.
“Hello.”
Players passed by, and Deckard could see that some were tempted. He kept repeating the announcement. Eventually, a group of three players appeared.
“We’ll carry you both," one of them announced. The player addressing him wore a leather vest and a crude spear. His imposing presence wasn’t just due to his height—he seemed completely confident in his skills.
“Are you three enough to carry both of us through the dungeon?” Deckard asked.
“Of course,” the leader answered while the other two just snorted.
Deckard and the kid exchanged glances. “Do you mind, kid? It will save us both 20 credits. It’s a good deal.”
“Sure,” the kid nodded.
Since there were only three party members, he and the kid would have to pay only 60 credits. At the same time, the carriers would get double the fee. It was a win-win situation.
“Pay up. Twenty credits for each of us times two that makes for 120 credits total.”
Deckard’s gut twisted. Something about the request didn’t sit right, especially after seeing how players usually did business. Back at the bar, when he traded cards with players, everyone had been so adamant about leaving things in writing that it felt wrong to hand out a cool 120 credits like this.
He stepped forward. “I don’t think so. Only after the deal is done. We’ll sign a trade agreement enforced by the system to make sure that everyone lives up to their part of the deal.”
The player standing in front of him raised an eyebrow. Deckard couldn’t tell if he was disappointed because he had planned to scam them, or if he was just frustrated over what he thought was unnecessary red tape. But it didn’t matter. Deckard had already read up on how to set up a system contract, and he wasn’t going to let this deal go down without protection. He quickly initiated the contract interface.
“Here are the conditions,” Deckard said, making sure all four could hear. “Me and the kid will pay you 60 credits. You’ll take us through the dungeon and hunt both the boss and the elites. Regarding loot, I take all the cards. Equipment and other items go to the kid. Coppers are split equally between the five of us. If you fail to carry us through, we won’t pay.”
The rich kid puffed his chest out, clearly impressed by the negotiation. “Uncle, you’re so smart!” he chirped, beaming at Deckard.
"Fine, but we have one condition of our own,” Orson said. “We want one of the items that the boss of this dungeon drops."
"Which one?" Deckard asked, hoping it wasn’t a card.
"The [Filth Neutralizer]."
It sounded like a poorly thought-out name for a cleaning product. "What does it do?"
"It grants access to a special map. Our guild has us farming this dungeon specifically for that item."
"I see," Deckard replied, instantly making sense of the situation. These guys were likely gold farmers working for a guild. They ran the same dungeon over and over to fill the guild's coffers with a specific item. They probably made some extra cash on the side by carrying wealthy noobs like himself and Tristan. "I don’t see any problem with that. Do you, kid?"
"I have a name!" the child snapped after being called ‘kid’ one too many times. "It’s Tristan."
"Fine. You good with it, Tristan?"
"Sure, I’m good with it."
"Alright, that’s settled then, gentlemen. Let’s begin."
“Wait a moment. Since we’re making an agreement, add another clause,” the leader said, his voice level but commanding. “If you die because you fail to obey my orders, we’ll still get paid. Moreover, I’m the one in charge during the run. You follow my commands.”
Deckard nodded. “Seems reasonable.” He adjusted the system contract, sending it back for approval.
You've signed an agreement.
“Everything seems in order,” Orson said. He signed with a casual flick of his hand. “Let’s do this.”
Deckard noted that Orson’s colleagues didn’t speak much; they just offered nods of agreement whenever he gave commands. They were clearly here to follow, not lead.
You’ve been invited by Orson to a party. Do you want to join? [Y/N].
Deckard accepted, watching four health bars pop up—Orson, Mason, Kane, and Tristan.
“Alright. Let’s be clear,” Orson said, his eyes cold and direct. “You move when I tell you to move. Do nothing when I tell you to stand still. Don’t attack. We don’t need your help. Just pick up the loot, stay out of the way, and follow instructions.”
Tristan’s face scrunched up like he’d been told he wasn’t getting dessert after dinner. Deckard chuckled. Clearly, this privileged kid wasn’t used to being talked to like that.
Orson didn’t care about whether he’d hurt the kid’s feelings. He turned toward the stone tablet at the dungeon entrance, touching it with a practiced motion.
The air shimmered, and they were instantly transported to a rocky road overlooking the ocean.
Welcome to Gull Rock!
Cliffs rose on both sides, towering like jagged walls. The elites began moving, up the road. As they turned around the first bend, three seagulls swooped down from the crevices where they nested, screeching as they approached.
“Kane, Mason,” Orson said, calmly pointing to the assigned targets while stepping in front of Deckard and Tristan with fluid precision.
Sweeping Strike!
His spear shimmered with a golden hue as he tripped one of the seagulls, following up with a swift, critical strike that slashed away half its HP in a single blow.
-18
-35!
Mason raised his rusty sword and smashed into another seagull.
-22
Kane swung his two-handed hammer with terrifying force, flattening the last seagull into the ground.
Hammer Blow!
-76
The team moved with the practiced efficiency of veterans—silent, focused, and obedient to Orson’s lead.
Your party has hunted a [Diseased Seagull].
+3XP
In moments, the three seagulls were dispatched, exploding into specks of light. Deckard had done absolutely nothing during the fight, just as Orson had ordered, and the loot was left for him and Tristan to collect.
Deckard felt a strange mix of awe and embarrassment. He’d always known he would find players like this—professionals who made the game look easy—but seeing it firsthand was something else. Maybe Savvy had been right when he said Deckard wasn’t well-rounded. Still, he was determined to learn. He kept his eyes glued to Orson, studying his every movement and decision.
Meanwhile, Tristan was sulking, clearly unused to being relegated to loot duty, but he didn’t complain.
Orson waved toward the path ahead. “Let’s keep moving,” he said.
Deckard trailed behind, wondering how he would survive in this game—especially surrounded by such talent. He needed to overcome his lack of skill in fighting, or risk being left behind.
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