Chapter 1
Lee Jonghyun took great pride in his life.
He had endured twenty-six long years as a poor young breadwinner, supporting his younger sibling and even saving enough to rent a small apartment. He had every right to be proud.
He believed that no matter what hardships awaited him, he could overcome them.
‘…Well, this is bad.’
That was before he found himself possessed inside his favorite game, Forgotten God.
Before he saw his first status window.
[Trait: ???]
You cannot form a contract with any god.
※ Other effects are locked and will remain inactive until conditions are met.
To summarize Forgotten God in a single sentence—
“A game where players form contracts with various gods to hunt evil deities.”
In short, a character’s entire growth depended on the gods.
Your class itself was determined by which god you served.
If you contracted with the God of Archery—you became an archer.
If you contracted with the God of Magic—you became a mage.
The stronger the god, the stronger the player.
Even skills and equipment were gifts from them.
It was a simple and absolute system.
‘But I can’t make contracts?’
Lee Jonghyun—no, now Gunter, an extra from some countryside—stared blankly at his status window.
Such a fatal penalty trait shouldn’t even exist.
And if it did, it should at least come with an overwhelming advantage.
But there was only the penalty.
And the misfortune didn’t end there.
[Main Scenario Act 1, Chapter 1 “The Raid of Lutien Army” will begin in 3 years.]
[Current location is 3,000 km away from the starting point of the main scenario. Move quickly to proceed.]
Gunter’s hometown was on the opposite side of the continent from the main story,
and the main scenario wouldn’t even start for three years.
‘Ah…’
But Gunter refused to give up.
“I’ll go back. No matter what.”
He still had precious things waiting for him back on Earth.
He would clear this game and return—to hold his only family in his arms again.
So, what should he do?
He possessed a nameless extra’s body,
at the wrong time, in the wrong place.
No special benefits, no cheats.
And yet, his mission was monumental—
To defeat the Seven Evil Gods and destroy their Theocracy,
to crush the Outer Gods and the fanatics who worshipped them.
There was only one answer.
“Find the protagonist.”
Unlike him, the protagonist was a hero blessed with divine favor—
a talent so radiant that every god wanted to form a contract with him.
Gunter’s plan was simple: stay by his side and support him with meta-knowledge.
If he could do that, even this hellishly difficult ending might be achievable.
And so began his long journey across the continent—
a path where even nine lives wouldn’t be enough.
But Gunter soon discovered an unexpected talent.
The sword.
He learned how to stab, parry, dodge, and strike with startling speed.
Considering that most modern people would flinch at the sight of a kitchen knife,
his progress was astounding.
Within a year, he had become someone who could make a living by the blade.
He also had something else—grit.
The same resilience and intuition he had forged while surviving as a poor young head of household.
[“The King of Ninety-Nine Defeats” judges you unworthy and departs.]
[“The Walker of Oblivion” forgets your existence.]
…Well, that was all, for now.
In Forgotten God, self-growth had clear limits.
Without a divine contract, even the greatest talent would eventually fade.
[“The Merciful Judge” finds no reason to embrace you.]
[“The Thousand Eyes” deems you unworthy of even a glance.]
He was marked—Godless.
A man abandoned by the gods.
But instead of complaining, Gunter simply pressed on.
‘Just like back home.’
He kept swinging his sword.
Many gods passed him by.
He joined and left countless mercenary groups.
Though he achieved no great feats,
he grew—little by little.
And then, small changes began to appear.
[“The King of Ninety-Nine Defeats” takes interest in your persistence.]
[“The pharmacist Saint” eyes your festering wounds with pity.]
[“The Gigolo of the Crimson Streets” praises your handsome face, reminiscent of his youth.]
They were names he had never heard before—minor, almost laughable gods,
so low-ranked they probably didn’t even appear in the official lore.
But still, he didn’t mind.
‘Better than nothing.’
They couldn’t grant him power, but they offered small bits of advice and company.
[“The King of Ninety-Nine Defeats” teaches you the tricks of the battlefield.]
[“The pharmacist Saint” shows you how to dress your wounds properly.]
[“The Gigolo of the Crimson Streets” whispers the location of the black market.]
Even knowing that someone was watching over him gave Gunther strength.
Three years passed.
And finally, after never giving up, Gunther reached the beginning of the main scenario.
“Gunther? Hmm, I can trust you. Please guard the Silver Compass Caravan.”
He had arrived at the time and place where he would meet the protagonist.
His current job—escort duty for the Silver Compass Caravan.
According to the story, that caravan would soon be attacked by cultists,
and it was in that moment that the protagonist would make his heroic debut.
That was why Gunther had traveled all this way.
‘It’s close…’
Tomorrow—the attack of the Lutien Theocracy would begin.
And the protagonist would appear.
‘I can finally go home…’
That night, beneath an unfamiliar sky,
Gunther looked up at the stars.
They were not the same stars as Earth’s,
but in them, he saw memories of home—
the old doorway, the narrow room, his sibling’s smiling face.
The next morning.
“Gunther, wake up.”
“……”
“Hey! Gunther!”
“…I’m up.”
He sat up from the pile of hay on the wagon, stretching.
Instinctively, his hand reached out—gripping the sword buried beneath the straw.
Clank—
[“The King of Ninety-Nine Defeats” smiles, pleased by your diligence.]
A fellow mercenary called out, puzzled.
“What, you pulled an all-nighter?”
“Yeah.”
“Hah! You couldn’t sleep thinking about the border city, huh?”
“Move.”
“Touchy, aren’t we?”
The big, boisterous man was Ryan Parker,
the only one Gunther could call a friend.
“Hey, listen. I heard the taverns there are amazing.”
“I’m going ahead.”
“Hey!”
[“The Gigolo of the Crimson Streets” stretches eagerly, dreaming of the city’s nightlife.]
[“The pharmacist Saint” covers her eyes in disgust.]
Leaving behind the usual chatter of his minor gods, Gunter stepped down from the wagon.
The camp was already bustling.
“Load faster! You want to set out after sunset?”
“The city’s waiting, you slugs!”
Busy colleagues and merchants.
‘Finally… today.’
But just as he let out a breath of anticipation—
“Everyone, to your positions!”
The sharp bark of a commander cut through the air.
Gunther met Ryan’s eyes.
“Let’s go.”
“Yeah, before Eddie starts screaming again.”
Their duty was rear escort—
guarding the most luxurious carriage, where the caravan master and his daughter rode.
The engine-powered wagons roared to life.
The caravan began to move in formation.
After some time, a delicate voice called out—
“Gunter! Did you sleep well?”
Through the carriage window, the young lady smiled shyly.
Gunter simply nodded.
“Please take good care of us again today.”
“Yeah.”
Awkward silence.
Her eyes darted nervously, searching for words.
“It’s a little sad, isn’t it? Today’s our last day together.”
“Yeah.”
“……”
She pouted and closed the window.
[“The Gigolo of the Crimson Streets” despairs at your lack of charm.]
Even Ryan groaned beside him.
“Man, you’re hopeless.”
“What now?”
“Try being friendly for once. Better to be the boss’s son-in-law than a wandering merc.”
Gunter was about to retort when—
Thud!
A hard shove struck his shoulder.
“You bastard, you think we pay you to flirt with nobles?”
The man sneered, brushing off his hands.
Eddie, the head of security.
He glanced toward the carriage window and muttered bitterly—
“…Pretty boy parasite.”
He clearly wanted a reaction, but Gunther ignored him.
Today was too important for petty arguments.
“Tch.”
Eddie turned to bark orders at the others.
“Don’t slack off just because the city’s close! Anything can happen in the Badlands.”
The mercenaries groaned under his sharp tone.
“Especially you hired hands! I can already see your eyes glazed over thinking about booze!”
Ryan muttered under his breath, “God, I hate that guy.”
“Ryan Parker, what was that?”
“Nothing, sir.”
“…Watch yourself.”
Eddie openly favored the official guards over the hired ones.
No one dared speak back—
the faint mark on his neck said it all.
A stigma—the proof of a divine contract.
Something Gunter would never have.
‘Doesn’t matter.’
He wouldn’t need to wield his sword for much longer anyway.
Gunther narrowed his eyes toward the horizon.
He couldn’t see it yet, but he could feel it—
the rising clouds of dust in the distance.
‘They’re coming.’
The cultists.
And soon after, the protagonist who would defeat them.
Gunther’s breath trembled.
Beneath this alien sky, his thoughts turned homeward—
to his family, his small room, his waiting world.
He had been stuck in this cursed game for three long years,
but now…
He would clear it. And go home.
[‘◈’ has designated you as the protagonist of the gameboard.]
[‘◈’ is preparing to unlock Trait ???.]
