Level Up

The blade carved through without hesitation.

Leaving the goblin gang’s bodies strewn all around behind him, Solomon looked at the troll with an emotionless face.

“S-Scary little punks all dead…. Mage saved Troll!”

The troll stared at Solomon with bright, sparkling eyes.

[Look at this poor, pitiful troll. Those clear eyes that look like the last innocence in this world… and the skull suture marks visible on its head.

Oh. So another name for innocence was a lobotomy.]

Now that he heard the narrator’s explanation, something like surgical scars stood out on its head.

“Troll want repay…! But Troll… got nothing give….”

“Stop being annoying and get lost.”

‘Huh?’

Solomon had answered without thinking, but the profanity slipped out on its own.

───

[Rough Tongue]

: His way of speaking is as rough as his life. Grants a favorable modifier on Intimidation rolls.

───

It was not hard to guess the cause.

‘No, it works like this? This is driving me insane.’

“…I only had business with them.”

“Th-Thanks! You kind… mage kind…. Strong and kind!”

So he desperately stayed conscious of it and added a suitably polite line, so it would not sound too harsh.

[This innocent, pitiful idiot troll will remember your actions.]

Leaving the pitiful troll and the voice in his head behind, Solomon turned away.

[Will it… remember?]

“……”

The harbor night sky was still dark when he left the Bloodstained Raven Tavern.

‘It ended faster than I thought.’

The Blackwater Docks, visible in the distance, were bustling even in the pre-dawn darkness.

Solomon was not relaxed enough to admire the harbor scenery. Before he knew it, his stride across the streets held no hesitation.

Past Blackwater Harbor lay the Upper Lowlands, where the Dawn Skylark Tavern stood. When he opened the tavern door, the hog was still there.

‘No way, that fat bastard is still stuffing his face.’

Solomon could not hide his genuine shock as he walked over to where Roach sat.

“I finished the Deadly Snitch job.”

“Oh, already? I knew you were fast when it came to work!”

“Things went a little sideways, so I ended up killing them all. Any problem with that?”

“Huh, really? Well, it can’t be helped. Sometimes it’s better to make the example obvious.”

Solomon spoke carefully while acting like it was nothing. Roach looked like he didn’t care either way.

“Who gives a damn if a few small fry die in this line of work.”

He said that as he gripped a piece of steak with both hands, tearing into it, with no idea how many plates he had already emptied.

The table was piled high, with no intention of clearing the plates. A hog that ate endlessly. It was believable as a fable about the deadly sin of gluttony.

“H-Hey, don’t stare like that…”

When Solomon stared at him in disbelief, Roach, uncharacteristically, scratched his cheek and acted shy. It was not a kind of embarrassment Solomon wanted to see.

“I’m on a diet, you know.”

“A diet?”

“Yeah! Ever heard of the one-meal-a-day diet? I’ve been starving all day, and this is my first meal.”

“….”

“I’m getting to the age where I’ve gotta watch my body.”

‘This guy is not built for a long life.’

Solomon lost even more words.

“Anyway. Here, take it.”

For a moment, Solomon panicked, thinking Roach was about to hand him meat from his mouth. Thankfully, it was about work.

Even so, getting a briefcase passed over by hands greasy with meat juice was not a pleasant experience.

“Five hundred total. That’s for roughing up the brats and the upfront money for the Cesspit Mage Tower job. And after you succeed, there’s another fifteen hundred waiting for you! Rich!!”

Solomon peeked into the bag. Inside the briefcase, bundles of this world’s currency were packed in tight.

5,000,000 krona. Five million.

‘There really is five million.’

A bag full of cash. Once again, Solomon realized he had become a person of this world in more ways than one.

“And the Mage Tower job is tighter than you’d think. Looks like the city guard caught a whiff. They’re trying to control the information on their end, but you’ve gotta finish within three days at the latest.”

Roach said while stuffing meat into his mouth and chewing.

“Got it.”

As Solomon answered and was about to stand, fries and a sizzling grill plate of freshly cooked steak were set on the table again.

“Ah, uh… this one’s on me.”

Roach slid the steak plate toward Solomon. It looked like he had been planning to eat it himself, then got self-conscious. Solomon decided not to pry.

“I’ll take it. Thanks.”

Either way, it was late at night, and he was hungry after finishing the job.

The meat sizzling on the grill was a tomahawk steak nearly 5cm thick.

[The exterior has been seared crisp into a brown crust, and the thick, meaty grain is as soft as silk….]

When he tested it by slicing into the grain with a knife, the pouring juices ran onto the still-hot grill plate and sizzled.

It looked unbelievably good. And tearing into it with both hands… he could almost understand the hog, Roach’s feelings.

“How is it? A crazy-good sous vide steak, right?”

“I think I understand the secret behind your belly.”

Solomon nodded in agreement.

He finished eating at the Dawn Skylark Tavern and even collected his pay and upfront money.

By the time his business was done, dawn was already breaking in the east.

He had fully taken on a new job and a new way of life in this world. His brain was overflowing with information, and he felt like he could collapse at any moment.

So he needed a place to collapse.

The home the narrator in his head had told him about, in exchange for accepting a new life and system under the name Solomon.

Grimrow Court 2, No. 17.

On the outskirts of the Lowlands, cramped, narrow tenements were packed together like pigpens, displaying the light and shadow of an industrial age as-is.

Less a place for people to live, and more a livestock pen that existed to house humans.

It was a place where you could not even imagine being a bathroom or toilet, where being able to stretch both legs out was something you had to be grateful for.

Even so, this was his home.

A home of his own, the kind he could only dream of. A homeowner’s life he never deserved.

In that state, Solomon collapsed as if he had dropped.

When he lay down on a mattress that felt like stone, a thoroughly aged mold stench greeted him.

“Home sweet home, fuck… no. Pretty words. Nice words. Pretty words.”

He closed his eyes along with the profanity. This damn mouth was enough to give him a complex.

‘Anyway, I leveled up.’

He recalled what he had seen in the rulebook. Leveling up did not apply immediately. To gain a level, you had to rest.

It was a rule you could easily find in TRPGs that valued realism.

‘Rest. It should mean sleeping for a night, right.’

What would happen after he slept? Would tiger energy¹ start surging or something? There was no way to know.

Solomon closed his eyes like that. Sleep came quickly.

It was a sleep so deep he would not notice even if someone carried him off.

His eyes opened.

It was not the cramped room of Grimrow Court 2, No. 17. The instant he realized it, he sprang up like a released coil and took a guarded stance.

[Ah, there is no need to worry.]

A strangely familiar voice reached his ears.

Only then did Solomon realize he was sitting in a room with a rectangular table…

…and that the voice that should have been in his head was coming from right in front of him.

[As you know, I am not your enemy.]

It was a man in a black, dark robe. Shadow hung deep beneath the hood, hiding his face. No, Solomon even doubted he had a face in the first place.

“Game Master…?”

[This is the tabletop room.]

The tabletop room. The robed man, the Game Master, answered.

“What the hell is this?!”

[Ah, that is because you leveled up.]

The Game Master slid something across the table. It was paper.

He did not even move his hands directly. With a small gesture, as if using telekinesis, the paper moved and flew over by itself.

‘My… character sheet.’

Solomon took the paper without speaking. It was filled with the same information he had written when he created his character.

[You are now level 2, Solomon. Along with increased attributes, the following level-up bonuses are provided.]

The Game Master continued while looking at the paper.

[The player receives one unique class trait, and 2 Aptitude Points (AP) that can be used freely.]

But now was not the time to focus on that.

“You’re Charon4, aren’t you? I know it. What the hell are you? What did you do to me…”

[Actions that deviate from one’s role, do not fit the theme, or disrupt fair and enjoyable gameplay are subject to penalties.]

Calmly.

[There will be no next time, Mister Solomon.]

Yet it was a voice that allowed no further defiance.

He could tell instinctively. There would be no next time. Solomon understood the situation with cold clarity.

It was no kidnapping or hidden-camera prank. This situation, and what the being in front of him had shown, had long since stepped far outside anything ‘the human common sense could measure.’

He quietly held the character sheet and checked the benefits he could gain from leveling up.

A trait guaranteed upon reaching level 2 as a Spell Assassin. More precisely, a trait from the rogue line.

───

Unique Class Trait 「Blade in the Dark」

: You can trigger a guaranteed melee critical hit once a day.

───

‘Yeah. This is it.’

[In addition, you have 2 Aptitude Points that can be used freely. These points may be saved without being spent. What will you do?]

“Show me the list of traits I can choose from.”

[Understood.]

Solomon spoke. The robed man nodded obediently and presented something again.

It was a sheet listing the traits available in 「Dark Camelot — Guild City」.

───

Trait list:

Focus Enhancement (1 AP)

Spell Sniper (4 AP)

Long Stride (1 AP)

Sharp Intuition (2 AP)

Numbness (1 AP)

(omitted)

Swordmaster (10 AP)

Spell Devourer (10 AP)

(omitted…)

───

What Solomon was looking for had been decided from the start.

Because the final shape of the build he wanted for this character was clearly drawn in his mind from the beginning.

Just because things had turned out like this, no. Because things ‘had’ turned out like this, there was even less reason to change.

───

Trait 「Glass Cannon」

: The trait holder gains one <Glass Die ⚅>.

: When attacking, roll the die and add the result as bonus damage. When being attacked, take bonus damage in the same way.

: Costs 2 Aptitude Points (AP)

───

Glass Cannon. True to its name, a double-edged blade that adds damage fairly when you attack and when you get hit.

That’s right. A TRPG was, in the end, a game where you rolled dice depending on the situation at the table.

A board game where the numbers you rolled directly decided victory and defeat, survival and death.

At the same time, he recalled the fights he had with gangs in that world.

Back then, there was no leisurely rolling dice and waiting for results while trading actions. He had not even seen a die.

And adding attack power by rolling dice. He could not even imagine how that would work.

Even so, the foundation of Solomon’s build was ultimately a dice-rolling board game.

In a world where you no longer rolled dice, what meaning would a <Glass Die> even have?

‘Is there even a guarantee the build I designed works the same way in this world?’

As Solomon hesitated and deliberated.

[As a special service, I will tell you one thing.]

The robed man spoke.

[Dice have meaning.]

“They have meaning in reality too?”

[Correct. You simply do not realize it. It is not visible. It is merely more subtle and delicate.]

More subtle and delicate. Chewing on those last words, Solomon fell silent for a moment.

“Then I’ll learn the Glass Cannon trait.”

He spoke at the end of that silence. Here, he had no choice but to believe.

Not that he believed the suspicious robed man in front of him, the Game Master.

He decided to believe in himself.

More precisely, the TRPG knowledge and experience in his head, and the broken builds he could craft from them.

Up to now, how many times had he pushed to the limit with builds the GMs never imagined?

Starting as a mere mortal, how many gods and dragons had he tested the possibilities of power against?

It was fun when a character grew endlessly and became stronger. That was why he had played TRPGs. This was no different.

And this rulebook written by the being in front of him was clearly amateur work with no sense for numbers at all. He decided to believe that.

So he had to become strong, for survival, a story clearer and simpler than anything else.

[Very well. You have spent 2 Aptitude Points to acquire the 「Glass Cannon」 trait.]

───

Level-up bonuses:

Mind +1, Dexterity +1!

Gained unique trait 「Blade in the Dark」!

Spent 2 AP to learn 「Glass Cannon」!

───

With that, the character sheet in front of Solomon changed on its own. Ink letters moved and danced, filling the blank spaces, overwriting the contents, changing shape like a living creature.

There, Solomon had already been remade as a new level 2 Solomon.

That was as far as the memory went.

“!”

His eyes opened.

He immediately realized that what happened last night in the tabletop room was not a dream.

[Class Trait 「Blade in the Dark」 is active.]

Once per day, a strike that landed a critical hit with no questions asked. The message announcing it was floating in front of his eyes.

It was far easier to understand than tiger energy.

“Deactivate trait.”

And the most broken part of this trait was that he could turn it on and off at will.

It would be a disaster if the critical hit triggered immediately from a random first scuffle.

It was a joker card he could use with a 100% guarantee when he absolutely needed to land a critical hit no matter what.

[Class Trait 「Blade in the Dark」 is inactive.]

Thankfully, it worked properly here too.

Even though it was a trait learned at only level 2, it was the alpha and omega of Solomon’s assassin build.

Because when he landed a Sneak Attack, it meant he could guarantee it was not ‘just a Sneak Attack,’ but a ‘critical Sneak Attack.’

How it would work in the real world, he did not know. But at least in a game world made of numbers and rules, the brokenness of a critical Sneak Attack that did not rely on probability was beyond doubt.

So he had to confirm it with his own eyes. How much stronger he had become. How close he was to the build he had designed in his head.

Solomon got up at once and checked the five million krona in the briefcase.

‘He said the Cesspit Mage Tower job was tight.’

Solomon didn’t have time either. So he grabbed the briefcase and stood.

He was not going to hunt the monster right away. He could not hunt a monster with no preparation.

‘New weapons and gear. An automatic crossbow and status-effect arrow cartridges.’

Before hunting, it was time to shop first.

Shopping that would let him hunt a monster.