Black smoke passed across Rowan's eyes. He lifted his body up.
Three black doors stood before him. Among them, Rowan had to choose one. But something caught his attention more than the black doors.
'This is...'
The smoke-filled floor had something new that hadn't been there before. A black semi-transparent hexagonal glass floor clearly reflected him.
Gulp.
He knelt down and carefully examined what was inside the glass floor. Only after waving away the smoke with his hand several times could he make out what it was.
'It's a human arm?'
An unknown right arm was sinking while slowly releasing bubbles. Rowan punched the glass floor, but only a dull, solid sound came out.
'Can't figure it out at all.'
When he brought his face close without thinking, black currents rose thinly like heat waves from the right arm and drifted above Rowan.
'Hng.'
It looked no different from black smoke, but just looking at it made his legs go weak and sent chills through him. A chill clung to his forearm, goosebumps spreading from his fingertips along his spine to his head. Startled, Rowan backed away.
He stayed frozen for a while, unable to move.
Deliberately ignoring the unknown right arm, he headed for the black door. But seeing his trembling hands, he sat back down.
'What the hell is this place?'
He knew it wasn't an ordinary place, but he'd never thought just looking at something would terrify him this much. Plus, just a right arm lying there? Bizarre.
'Can't excuse this as just being a reincarnator.'
He tousled his hair roughly, scratching at his scalp. His scalp tore, blood sticking to his nails. The pleasure from the sharp pain and the itchiness from the wounds made him keep scratching. Skin scraped by his nails bled, the blood seeping under his fingernails.
Rowan rubbed his eye sockets and stood up.
'Just think about my goal.'
There was nothing bad about getting stronger. So far, this black dream had only given him useful abilities. He should worry, but he couldn't bring himself to refuse power.
The ability to create an absolute gap between himself and other people was more intoxicating than any drug.
The black door cracked open. Rowan gave himself over to the black smoke pouring out in massive amounts. A vision overtook him.
'Blood boiling.'
'Barbarian hybrid.'
Absurd tendons that could lift more than his own body weight.
More developed physical abilities.
The barbarian's blood pool was the first option.
Rowan opened his eyes. Heat boiled throughout his body, both cheeks burning hot. Just from experiencing the vision, his excited body was heated up enough to leap and run at any moment.
'That bear-like guy didn't have that body for nothing.'
He could glimpse Handless Sendabil's secret.
'He had barbarian blood.'
The tendons themselves were different from ordinary people—an ability that created a body more suited for fighting. But it wasn't all advantages.
'The feeling of blood boiling. Not good at all.'
Rowan had the Kill the Battle ability—the power to become calm and slow time when killing something. He knew how important calmly judging situations was, but if barbarian blood came into his hands, he'd be soaked in excitement and wouldn't be able to fight properly.
Soaked in blood, he'd become a monster slaughtering people without even noticing the spears thrusting at him.
'Pass.'
He knew how amazing superior physical specs were, but he had to avoid this stimulant that didn't match his desired combat style. The thought of it repulsed him.
He headed for the next black door. Black smoke wrapped around Rowan, and another vision found him.
Countless human deaths.
Slashed to death, stabbed to death, villains cackling while holding severed heads.
Various blood-stained weapons swung by black smoke, showing bizarre trajectories. Crescent-shaped throwing axes were also threatening.
He could tell this was a vision providing excellent experience in facing humans and giving knowledge of various weapons.
Sendabil's Close Combat Tactics was an ability that granted various weapon usage methods and experience facing many humans. This was especially the best ability given this world's characteristics, where information was limited and hard to find.
'People like Rakson are hard to meet.'
He was an oddball. Just knowing twelve sword technique secrets indicated he was a bizarre person. In contrast, Sendabil's Close Combat Tactics were literally bloody fruits gained from real combat.
If Rakson taught techniques, this ability taught real combat.
The remaining option was the worthless ability called Setan's Karma. Giving malicious cunning instead of fear of fire—something Rowan would never choose.
For Rowan, who had modern ethics somewhat established, it was absurd and an ability he couldn't help but feel repulsed by.
Greedy but simultaneously exposed to countless ideologies, modern people were contradictory beings. He'd seen extreme good through various media and captured extreme evil through various media. It was just indirect experience, but considering people here couldn't even do that, it was worth tremendous value.
He possessed massive indirect experience in judgment.
He knew to distance himself from malicious cunning, and knew to refuse even the strength to push a bull if it had drawbacks.
'This time, only Sendabil's Close Combat Tactics to gain.'
He'd be able to wield various weapons he'd never held before like a veteran mercenary. Also, in facing humans, he'd ruthlessly beat them to death like a human slaughterer. If such a moment came, Rowan would never stay still like a greenhorn.
'Such situations will inevitably come, and I'll see them often.'
Rowan had been preparing through tedious daily life ever since learning people-killing techniques while paying precious silver to Rakson monthly.
Sendabil's Close Combat Tactics was a huge help—buying all sorts of weapons to use directly cost lots of money, and using them to kill people was even harder. Just solving that problem made it an ability bringing enormous benefit.
'No drawbacks either.'
Rowan woke from the black dream like that. Questions about the unknown right arm remained.
Time flew by in an instant.
A year and a half passed since the bandit attack.
Rowan completely established himself as a deep forest hunter, and placing traps at the forest and mountain entrance doubled his income. Hunter Geric didn't return to the village. Rowan didn't blame or criticize Geric.
People asked about Geric's whereabouts, but Rowan played dumb. The bandits' corpses and blood in his house made people remember Geric as a brave man rather than a traitor.
'Killed two bandits, so he did his part.'
Geric could have run at any time, but deliberately ambushing at home was his own consideration and concession to the village—Rowan could understand that now.
'Bastard.'
Of course, understanding didn't mean forgiving. The strength from Sendabil's massive body and his influence on his surroundings still appeared as nightmares sometimes when Rowan's condition was bad. That brutish grip strength. When he'd wake up drenched in cold sweat from suffocating, anger toward Geric naturally surged up.
He started dawn training. Moving his body to work up a sweat, after practicing Rakson's sword technique secrets, he spent time conceiving his own secrets. Rowan's secrets, which lacked practicality but had unexpectedness, twisted Rakson's sword technique secrets in new ways.
"Eat plenty."
He didn't forget to feed crow Kaiya and brown wolf Dono.
'Kaiya, that brat. Won't even eat grain powder now.'
Kaiya stopped eating grain powder made from ground wheat. The wild one got more arrogant as the years passed and started picking food like a master. Recently, he'd started eating dried corn and jerky.
Meat consumption naturally increased. Wolf Dono was the same. This guy ate heartily only when there was a blood flavor. The fortunate point was he wasn't a picky eater and sometimes enjoyed fruit. He seemed charmed by Kaiya eating fruit.
Rowan headed for the deep forest.
"Going to the deep forest? Rowan!"
The watchtower on the palisade, further expanded after the bandit attack, had six decent crossbows loaded and mounted, facing front and sides. Rowan waved at Vinny shouting from there.
"On watchtower duty today too?"
"Damn bastards, showing off their money. Lots of expenses since joining the youth association!"
Vinny's family farmed and raised chickens but had little money because of their many children. So he was often deployed for village communal work. Just like Rowan had worked everywhere in the village to pay tuition to Rakson, Vinny was no different.
"Heard you had another one recently?"
"Don't even mention it. Not even past the first birthday, and how much does he eat! Hahaha!"
Rowan exchanged a few more words and left the village. Entering the forest, Rowan could see a peddler group coming from far away.
'They come often.'
It was fair to say almost no merchants came to Black Mountain Village. Currency itself was scarce, so barter was mainstream, making profit hard. Unlike currency with set rates, physical goods had different values depending on who you asked, and merchants had trouble since taking goods elsewhere got them priced differently again.
Rowan entered the forest without hesitation.
Peddler Yove had been thinking recently about forming a merchant group. The dream's content was too modest to call it grand.
'Creating profit from villages merchants don't visit.'
Like a hyena, targeting small villages and mountain villages other merchants thought were shit—making a mountain merchant group. Four people had stepped in with his intent.
Most were modest or hadn't worked as merchants, and not a single one was young.
"Finally arrived. The road's rougher than expected."
"Don't think there'll be big money here."
Everyone whined about the rough road. They got annoyed and irritable. For peddlers making pennies, rough mountain roads were roads they didn't want to travel.
Yove laughed at that.
"Nonsense. Has anyone here even visited this village once? Huh?"
"Well..."
"Is there something great?"
He clicked his tongue.
"Nobody comes, so valuables don't sell. But you can still get something cheaper than market rate. Everyone here doesn't go outside."
He stopped at the village entrance.
"Peddlers?!"
"That's right!"
"Why are peddlers carrying so many weapons?"
"Hard to hire mercenaries to protect from bandits, but we gotta protect ourselves!"
"Look at this luggage! We're peddlers!"
Black Mountain Village's crossbows didn't meet standards and were crude, but they were definitely useful despite the village owning a blacksmith.
The peddlers who entered without proper inspection snickered. A pathetic place. A completely different dimension from Torch Fortress's strict inspection. Disastrous level.
"Stupid bastards."
"Still better than other mountain villages. Multiple crossbows. At least they've got basic sense."
"This way!"
Yove led the way. He skillfully greeted villagers and acted very politely. He quickly found out where the recently unused empty houses were and went inside.
"I'm taking a house alone."
"Do what you want. Unpack and come right back."
At the mention of taking a separate empty house alone, Yove answered shortly. A man who obviously looked like he had a complicated past had a vicious, twisted face. His name was Sejebon—vicious Sejebon.
Among the empty houses, Sejebon looked around for a while, then chose an empty house without even one window. The size was similar to other houses, but it had no windows. The best house for him. He went inside and carefully examined it.
'Not even one piece of furniture.'
He pulled out cloth patched together from rags. Neatly folded and tightly rolled, it was a substantial amount when spread out. He laid it out, took out necessities from his bag, then ripped up the floor and hid the bag. He felt inside his clothes for the special leather holder placed there.
Firmly securing the dagger to the holder, he headed outside.
"Eating already? Not even lunchtime yet."
Sejebon entered and spoke while sitting where the fire was lit at the furnace spot.
"Don't know when we'll eat. Gotta eat now and move fast. Sell what we can, and there's something big around sunset too."
"Something big? What big thing sells in a mountain village like this..."
He grumbled.