The rain was quiet.
It wasn't stormy. It wasn't dramatic. It was just a monotonous, cold drizzle that turned the narrow alleys of "Greihaven" into channels of mud, piss, and diluted despair. This was the kind of weather that made the smell of rotting wood and old fish stick to the inside of your helmet.
I was sitting under the tattered awning of a deserted market stall. "I" am "Ken," or at least I was. It doesn't matter. Here, I'm just a metal shadow, "The Golden Idiot."
Yeah, "Idiot." Because I've spent ten years in this shithole world and I'm still wearing white sneakers.
The shoes, an extinct "Nike" brand, were soaked in medieval muck. Above them, black sweatpants. Above that, a comfy white hoodie. And topping it all off? A gleaming golden cuirass, matching gauntlets, and a full-faced knight's helmet. A massive sword was strapped to my back like a ridiculous accessory.
I looked across the street. A legless old man was coughing his lungs out into a clay jar. Two kids were stabbing a dead rat with a stick. Quiet.
"Hey, Reader," I whispered inside the helmet, the sound muffled and metallic. "Enjoying the view? This is high fantasy. It smells like a damp ass."
Just as I was about to nod off, a transparent blue window popped up in front of my eyes.
`[Skill Acquired: 'Contemplating Misery (Beginner)']`
`[Description: You have stared at urban squalor for two consecutive hours. Your mental resistance to reality has increased by 0.02%.]`
"Fantastic," I muttered. "Thanks, System. Real helpful."
This "System" is the cosmic joke I got in exchange for dying stupidly (slipped on a banana peel in a grocery store. Yes, literally). It doesn't give me power. It just mocks me.
A rough laugh cut through the monotony of the rain. Not loud, but it was dirty.
I turned, slowly. In the alley next to the boarded-up weapon shop, where the trash barrels piled up, there were four men. They were city guards, or just thugs in uniform. No difference. Cheap leather armor that reeked of sweat and cheap ale.
They were surrounding a woman.
And of course, she wasn't just *a* woman. She was *Her*. "The Heroine." You could tell by the impossible physical specs.
She was wearing a nun's habit. But the god she served had to be the god of lust. The tight, black fabric was plastered to her rain-soaked body. It defined every detail: the unnaturally slim waist, the full hips, and the gravity-defying breasts straining against the white cloth.
She stood quietly, hands clasped in front of her, her brown eyes looking at nothing. Tragic.
But the outfit... it was a work of art. It had a side slit. "Slit" doesn't do it justice. It was a schism, running from her ankle almost to her hip bone, revealing a smooth, white thigh glistening with moisture. And just visible beneath that slit was the black lace of her garter belt.
"My god," one of the guards said, his voice hoarse. He was reaching out slowly, his filthy, broken-nailed fingers aiming for her exposed skin. "Never seen a saint... so damn... *f-ckable*."
His buddy laughed, spitting a brown wad onto the ground. "They say the nuns of the 'Dark-Rift' atone for the world's sins with their bodies. Maybe we should help her atone a little."
The first man stretched out his hand and touched her. Not a violent touch, but a grimy, exploratory one. He ran his index finger right up her bare thigh, right to the edge of the lace.
The nun didn't move. Didn't even blink. She remained perfectly still, like a marble statue in a pornographic scene.
I sighed. A long, metallic sigh. "Alright, folks," I said to myself (and to you, Reader). "Here it is. The mandatory scene. The idiot hero has to step in now, right? Save the damsel, get a kiss, and start the adventure."
`[Stupid Quest Activated!]`
`[Quest: Ruin the Cliché]`
`[Description: A group of C-list actors are trying to start a rape side-plot. It's boring. Go say something stupid to stop them.]`
`[Reward: 10 EXP, 5% Chance of a Warm Pie]`
"Dammit," I muttered. "A warm pie sounds pretty good right now."
I stood up. The *squish, squish* of my wet sneakers was the only sound in the alley as I stepped out of the shadows.
The four guards froze. They turned. Their expressions shifted from raw lust to complete, utter confusion. They saw the gleaming golden helmet and the massive sword, then they saw the pathetic white hoodie and the muddy sneakers.
"What in the hell?" their leader said.
The man who had been touching the nun slowly pulled his hand back.
I raised a golden-gauntleted hand in a friendly wave. My voice came out heavy and muffled from under the metal.
"Good evening, gentlemen. So sorry to interrupt. I'm new in town. Any idea where I can find a clean bathroom? I drank a lot of this rain, and it's going right through me."
There was a dead silence. Even the rain seemed to pause.
The nun, for the first time, slowly turned her head toward me. Her sad, tragic eyes, dead a second ago, were now staring at my helmet in utter confusion.
The lead guard looked at me, then at the bare-thighed nun, then back at me.
"You... You're f-cking kidding me."
"Not at all," I said, trying to sound as earnest as possible. "The situation is critical."
The leader, a huge man with a broken nose and a beard that smelled of ale, stared at me. His beady little eyes moved slowly from my shiny golden helmet, down my wet hoodie, to my sneakers sinking in the mud.
"A bathroom?" he repeated the word slowly, as if tasting it. "You're interrupting official City Guard affairs... for a *bathroom*?"
"Well, 'affairs' is a strong word," I gestured with my gauntlet toward the nun. "It looked more like 'imminent back-alley sexual assault' to me. And I hate to interrupt, but the bladder, you know... it doesn't wait for anyone. It's a tiny, f-cking dictator."
The second guard, the one who'd been touching her thigh, let out a short, dry laugh. "I think this golden 'knight' is insane."
"Insane or not," the leader said, putting his hand on the hilt of his rusty sword. "He ruined our fun. And now he's gonna pay.
Maybe we can see what's under that damn helmet before we..."
He didn't get to finish the sentence.
My move wasn't fast. It wasn't heroic. It was just a stupid, video-game-trained reflex.
As he put his hand on his sword, I did the one thing nobody expected. I kicked the nearest trash barrel at him.
It wasn't heavy, but it was full of murky rainwater and rotten fish guts. The barrel slammed into the leader's shins and burst open. Filthy water, fish heads, and slimy entrails splattered all over his leather armor and his face.
He froze.
The other three guards froze.
Even the nun, that statue of tragic poise, widened her eyes just a fraction.
The stench of rotting fish and piss overwhelmed the cold smell of the rain. Dead quiet.
"Oh, damn," I said. "That... that was even more disgusting than I expected."
The leader slowly wiped a fish head off his cheek. He looked at it, then he looked at me. All traces of confusion or lust were gone. All that was left was pure, animalistic rage.
"Kill him," he screamed.
`[Stupid Quest Complete!]`
`[Reward: +10 EXP]`
`[Bonus: -50 Reputation with Greihaven City Guard]`
`[Title Acquired: 'Garbage-Tosser']`
"F-ck you, System," I muttered as the two closest guards drew their swords.
I didn't have time to draw the massive sword on my back. That was just for show. Instead, I lunged forward.
The first guard swung his sword in a wide, horizontal arc. It was slow and predictable. I ducked under it and slammed into him with my shoulder. My golden armor wasn't just for show. It was solid. I heard a faint *crack*, probably a rib or two.
The second guard stabbed me.
I twisted, but not fast enough. The short-sword blade slid into my side, just under the hoodie, above my belt.
I felt it. Not a sharp pain, just a cold, wet pressure. The kind of pressure that tells you something is where it really, *really* shouldn't be.
"Ah," I grunted. "That's gonna stain."
The guard gripped the hilt, trying to shove it in deeper. I looked down at his hand, then used my golden-gauntleted hand. I didn't punch him. I *slapped* him. Hard.
The heavy metal gauntlet connected with his face. It wasn't a clean sound. It was a wet, *crunchy* sound. The sound of a nasal bone and teeth being driven back into his throat. He fell back, blood gushing from his mouth and nose like an open faucet, and started choking on his own blood and broken teeth in the mud.
Gory. Yeah, that was pretty gory.
The third guard, who had been standing near the nun, looked terrified. He looked at his friend drowning in blood, then at me.
"I... I was just..."
"Yeah, yeah, I know," I said, pressing a hand to the stab wound in my side. Warm blood was already soaking my shirt under the hoodie. "You were just following orders. Now, how about you follow a new order and shut the f-ck up and get out of here?"
The leader, still covered in garbage, had finally drawn his sword. "You bastard! I'll gut you!"
`[System Warning: True killing intent detected. Activate 'Idiot's Luck' Protocol? (Y/N)]`
"YES, DAMMIT!" I screamed inside my helmet.
The leader charged, raising his sword for a vertical chop.
At that exact moment, the third, terrified guard chose to run. He slipped on the fish guts coating the ground... and slammed right into the leader in mid-swing.
The leader stumbled.
He lost his balance.
His massive sword went wide.
And as the leader fell forward, his sword fell first.
The blade went right through the chest of the fourth guard, who was still trying to help the man whose face I'd caved in. It pierced him through the back and came out his chest in a hot, arterial fountain.
Silence again, broken only by the quiet rain and the wet, gurgling sound of the man who'd just been impaled.
The leader, still on the ground and covered in trash, looked at his sword stuck in his own man. He looked at the other man still choking on his teeth. He looked at me.
I just stood there, bleeding from my side, wearing a ridiculous golden helmet.
"Well," I said, my voice dripping sarcasm. "This escalated quickly. You still don't know where that bathroom is, do you?"
The leader screamed. It wasn't a warrior's cry. It was the shriek of a man who had just lost his mind. He scrambled backward, leaving his sword behind, got to his feet, and just fled, screaming into the rain.
The third, terrified guard was already gone.
The alley was quiet again.
A man choking on teeth.
A man dying with a sword in his chest.
And the smell of rain, rotten fish, and fresh blood. Quiet.
`[+40 EXP (Kill Assist)]`
`[+25 EXP (Intimidation)]`
`[Title 'Garbage-Tosser' has been upgraded!]`
"F-ck my life," I muttered.
I turned. The nun was still there. She hadn't moved. Still in the same pose, hands clasped, just watching me.
Her brown hair was plastered to her face by the rain. Her skin was pale, but her eyes... they were clear. She was looking at me, not with fear, not with gratitude. Just... quiet curiosity. Like she was looking at a weird bug she'd never seen before.
I walked toward her, my sneakers making *squish, squish* sounds in the bloody mud.
"So," I said, trying to sound casual as blood ran down my pants. "Selina, right?"
She tilted her head, just slightly. Her voice was soft, like rustling silk. "You know my name."
"Nah, I read it above your head," I pointed at the empty air above her. "System's good for something, I guess. Now, if you don't mind, I think I'm going to pass out. Could you... y'know... catch me?"
`[Skill 'Contemplating Misery' has leveled up!]`
That was my last thought before the muddy ground looked irresistibly appealing, and I blacked out at her lace-covered feet.