C3 The First Mission
Thump! Thump! Thump!
A rapid succession of knocks jolted Rinn from his daydreams.
He hadn't even managed to rise when John's gruff bellowing pierced through the door.
"Damn it, Rinn and Quinn! The sun's high enough to scorch your behinds, and you two are still snoozing! Get out and get to work!"
"Crud!"
Quinn, who'd been out like a log moments before, sprang to life. Forgoing a shirt, he dashed from the dorm bare-chested.
Rinn lagged behind, and by the time he made it to the door, John was there, seething with rage. The stench of booze wafted from him, potent enough to knock out mosquitoes.
"Master John, I apologize. I stayed up late perfecting my blacksmithing skills and lost track of time..."
Quinn's face was a mask of contrition.
Rinn's eyes bulged. Was this guy for real?
He clearly remembered Quinn sneaking off for a drink the night before.
"Hmm, you're excused. And you?" John's glare fixed on Rinn. "What's your excuse, you little rascal? Why are you still in bed?"
"Master John... I was so engrossed in researching blacksmithing techniques last night that I forgot the time... and to sleep."
If Quinn could spin a tale, Rinn wasn't about to be outdone.
After all, a salesman's bread and butter is a good yarn!
Sure enough, John's drunken wits bought Rinn's fib. "Hmph! At least you show some initiative. Quinn, go get dressed! And Rinn, you big oaf, come with me to the forge!"
"Yes, sir!"
Quinn cast a pitying glance at Rinn before retreating inside.
With the master already soused this early, Rinn was in for it.
"Move it!"
John, eager and unyielding, snagged Rinn's arm.
Next to John's towering frame, Rinn might as well have been a chick being hoisted, swiftly hauled off to the smithy.
The forge roared to life, its flames dancing around a sword in the making.
Pointing to the embryonic blade, Quinn slurred, "Modric's taken a shine to blades over pens lately. That lad might end up your kin, you dunce. Shape that sword properly. And if you botch it, well... you know what's coming."
Rinn instantly shrank back at those words.
"I'm freaking malnourished, with barely enough strength to wring a chicken's neck. You expect me to swing this hammer that's over ten kilos to forge iron? You're setting me up to fail!"
Rinn bit back a curse that was on the tip of his tongue, unsure if he should voice it. But he had no choice; he steeled himself and went ahead with the task.
If the forging failed, he'd get a beating on his behind. If he defied the order, the beating would be on his head—a significant difference, especially since Rinn had no desire to end up 'disfigured.'
Taking a deep breath, Rinn gripped the hammer's handle with both hands, as one was simply not enough.
He clenched his teeth and hoisted the hammer with all his might.
The hammer's shaft wasn't particularly thick, but it looked massive against Rinn's slight frame.
His entire arm's veins popped out from the effort. He couldn't even control the hammer's descent before it clanged to the ground, leaving him with arms dangling in agony.
"Damn, that hurts! I'm just too weak!"
As Rinn internally grumbled, John stormed over, his face contorted with rage. He roughly snatched up Rinn by the collar, hoisting him into the air, and bellowed, "Worthless! You're utterly worthless! Can't even hold a hammer—how do you expect to forge weapons in the future?"
"You should've gone to hell with that drunkard. Now, I'm going to make your pathetic face even more pitiful!"
John's hand was poised to strike.
Rinn, caught in his grasp, felt a mix of fear and frustration.
I've got a system, and I still have to take a beating?
What happened to reaching the pinnacle of life?
This is not fair!
Just then, the mechanical voice echoed in his mind once more.
[Beep. As the future savior of Eriya Continent, the host must learn to be strong and resist in times of crisis!]
[Mission: Stop Blacksmith John's violent behavior. Mission completion rewards: 50 Experience Points, 1 Skill Point, 1 Attribute Point.]
[Mission? Is the system still operational?]
[But my first task is to put a stop to John's violent behavior?]
[Isn't that a bit too challenging?]
Rinn's spirits plummeted, and he couldn't help but yell out, "System, you're asking me to stand up to John. Can't you at least offer a Divine Artifact as a starter reward?!"
"Little runt, what are you babbling about? You think you can defy me? You looking for a death wish?!"
John was caught off guard by Rinn's sudden outburst. He paused, taken aback, before his face twisted into a snarl and he bellowed.
Rinn, however, didn't catch a word John said; his entire focus was consumed by the thoughts racing through his mind.
[Beep. Should the host fail to attempt resistance or approach the mission passively, the system will administer an electric shock as a compulsory punishment.]
[Compulsory punishment?] The memory of the previous convulsing agony filled Rinn with dread.
[So, a couple of cheeky remarks and you threaten me, System? That's harsh!]
With his back against the wall, Rinn's mind raced to find a solution to the crisis, and he blurted out, "Master John, my father won't stand for you hitting me like this!"
John's reaction was one of sheer surprise, and he instinctively released his grip, letting Rinn drop to the ground. He muttered in disbelief, "You think that old drunkard from hell is going to come back and haunt me? Haha, as if I'd fall for such ghostly nonsense!"
His words were dismissive, but the pallor of his face betrayed his inner unease.
[Beep. Mission accomplished. Experience points gained: +50, Skill point: +1, Attribute point: +1.]
The mechanical voice seemed less cold now, but Rinn was still gasping for breath.
His arm, where John had grabbed him, throbbed with pain.
As a veteran gamer, he knew well the value of mission rewards.
Yet he was acutely aware that defying John could have dire consequences.
The drunkard might have been frightened for now, but who could tell for how long?
What if he snapped back to his senses?
Sure enough, John had regained his composure and was approaching with clenched teeth. "You spawn of a drunkard, you dare to intimidate me? You're going to pay for this!"
Panic took root in Rinn's heart, and he lost all semblance of calm, turning on his heel to flee.
"Spawn of a drunkard, don't you dare move!"
John's shouts grew louder behind him, and Rinn picked up his pace, running faster.
By chance, Quinn, now fully dressed, approached, his expression one of confusion at the unfolding scene.
"Quinn, grab that fool Rinn for me!"
At the sound of John's bellow, a grin spread across Quinn's face.
"What on earth did Rinn do to tick John off so much? If I nab him, John's bound to reward me, right?"
With that thought, Quinn's cheeks flushed with excitement as he charged at Rinn. "Haha, sorry, you fool. I'm just following Master John's orders."
But before he could finish, Rinn, with a look of urgency, yelled, "Get out of my way!"
"What!" Quinn froze in shock, not even realizing Rinn had dashed past him.
Did that idiot really just yell at me?
And did I actually let him intimidate me?
As Quinn wrestled with his emotions, John stormed over and smacked him on the back of the head, berating him, "You're worthless, can't even stop someone when asked. What good are you to me?"
Quinn cringed, mentally kicking himself.
How was I supposed to know Rinn would be so terrifying today?
...
"Beep. Congratulations, host, for successfully intimidating Blacksmith Apprentice Quinn. You have earned 20 experience points."
Exhausted, Rinn leaned against the wall outside the blacksmith's shop.
The mechanical voice echoed in his ears, yet he seemed oblivious, his eyes wide with disbelief as he stared into the void.
"A personal panel, huh? This is starting to feel like some online game..."
Before his eyes, a series of semi-transparent words materialized.
Personal Stats:
Name: Rinn
Level: 0
Title: None
Profession: None
Occupation: None
Attributes: Strength 0.3, Agility 0.7, Intelligence 1.0
Profession Skills: Beginner's Forging Technique (60/100)
Combat Skills: None
Skill Points: 1
Attribute Points: 1
Experience Points: 70/50 (Eligible for Level Up)
