ITDG 08

ITDG

Posted by Alex, Released on October 19, 2025

Chapter 8

Trapped in This Damn Game

A cool breeze drifted in through the slightly open window.
Golden hair swayed gently in the wind.

It was well past noon when Dermo finally woke up.
He had fallen asleep only when everyone else was already waking up—so it was inevitable.

“Haah…”

No matter how much he tried to get used to it, this world still felt foreign.
He sighed as he looked up at the ceiling, webbed with cobwebs.
He raised his right hand, still wrapped in cloth, to inspect it.

The bandage was stained red with blood.
James had wrapped it for him with medicinal herbs after seeing the wound on his hand.
He’d said he’d picked up some first aid skills naturally—mercenaries often came back from jobs injured.

“It’s gotten a bit better.”

Dermo unwrapped the cloth and flexed his hand open and closed.
He’d thought the wound was serious, but it had already begun to heal nicely in less than a day.
It must’ve been because he had dumped all the stat points he’d earned from killing Darnuk into vitality.
Of course, the herbs James applied had probably helped too.

Rustle.

Dermo got up and stretched his stiff body.
Then, his eyes caught the mirror hanging on the wall.

He walked up to it.
James had proudly claimed it was the only mirror in the entire inn—but it looked terrible.
Broken shards had been pieced together unevenly, as if someone had salvaged them from the trash.

“So this is me, huh.”

Dermo gave a hollow laugh as he looked at his reflection.

Brilliant blond hair.
Striking, handsome features that matched perfectly with it.
A blue left eye and a red right eye that looked almost unreal—like he was wearing colored lenses.

The man in the mirror had the face of an idol anyone, regardless of age or gender, would fall for.
Dermo let out a deep sigh and muttered,

“If only I’d had this face in the real world.”

A daydream that would never come true—but one long enough to indulge for a moment.

He pulled an eyepatch from his inventory, put it on, and stepped outside.

Creak, creak.

The stairs groaned unpleasantly as he descended to the first floor.
The only people around were Bendy and James.

As Dermo came down, he threw a casual jab toward Bendy.

“What? You see something you shouldn’t have? What are you staring at?”

His tone was almost picking a fight.

Normally, Bendy would’ve snapped back right away—but not today.
He’d heard the rumors: that Dermo had decapitated a demon.
And after the beating he’d taken last night for picking a fight, his arm was still badly injured.

Bendy just smiled meekly and left the inn without a word.

Dermo sat down on the chair across from James.

“Well, if it isn’t the lantern thief,” James said with a playful grin.

“Thief? I borrowed it.”

“Oh, you borrowed it and brought it back broken, huh?”

“That was settled last night already. I’m hungry. Give me something to eat—anything’s fine.”

James grinned and shouted toward the kitchen.

“Hey! One order of the most expensive dish we’ve got!”

“I didn’t say expensive.”

“In this backwater, ‘expensive’ doesn’t mean much to a guy like you. You’ll be rolling in reward money after that demon hunt anyway.”

He wasn’t wrong. The bounty for taking down Darnuk would more than cover it.

James pulled a gold coin from under the table and flipped it up.

“One gold. Lucky bastard. If I could handle a sword, I’d be out there hunting demons too.”

Dermo pocketed the coin and asked,

“Place seems quiet. Everyone out working?”

“Yup.”

James kept cleaning up glasses as he spoke.

“When are you heading out to take down Pirovis?”

“Tomorrow. My hand’s still like this.”

Dermo lifted his right hand slightly.
He could still hold a sword, but forcing it might reopen the wound—or make it worse.
Better to take a day to recover than to risk being crippled in the next fight.

“Yeah, you wouldn’t be able to fight properly with that hand,” James said, then glanced toward the door.

Following his gaze, Dermo turned.

Tom was walking in, carrying a bow.
His sprained leg still hadn’t healed, so it looked like he was taking the day off.

“Water,” Tom said curtly, sitting down beside Dermo.

James handed him a glass.
Tom gulped it down. His calloused hands gripped the cup tightly.

“Interesting,” he muttered as he set it down.

“I bought a bow from one of the mercenary archers after hearing what you said.
It’s a piece of junk, but after a few shots, I realized something.
The bow suits me better than the sword.
When I shut out all my senses except sight—it’s like the world slows down. Even a falling leaf.”

“Told you. Your eyes are special.”

“Heh, sounds arrogant to say it myself, but maybe you’re right.”

Tom nodded quietly, then reached into his pocket.
He pulled out three gold coins.

“This is the reward from taking down Bolgor. Feels like it should be yours, not mine.”

He placed the coins in front of Dermo.

“You became a mercenary for the money too, right?” Dermo asked.

Mercenary work was the best way for a commoner to rise.
All you needed was a sword—no noble blood required.

“Of course. What mercenary doesn’t?”

But not every mercenary got rich.
If your skills were mediocre, you’d risk your life for scraps.
Tom was one of those cases.

He’d earned 3 gold in a day, sure—but without Dermo, he’d be dead.

When Dermo pushed the coins back toward him, Tom frowned.

“I’m looking for comrades. Want to join me, Tom? If you say yes, those coins are a gift.”

“…?”

Tom’s pupils wavered like a cat staring at a fish.

Dermo continued,

“If you come with me, 3 gold will feel like pocket change.”

“…You want something from me? My skills aren’t worth that much.”

“I told you—your eyes are special. And besides…”

Dermo tapped the eyepatch over his right eye.

“We share something unique, don’t we?”

“Hey, can’t I come too? I’d love for 3 gold to be pocket change,” James chimed in jokingly.

But when his wife called from the kitchen, he sighed and went back to work.

Tom and Dermo were alone again.

“Can you really make that much money?”

“As long as you don’t die.”

Dermo shrugged.

“Why are you gathering a team? Planning to start a mercenary corps?”

“Yeah. With capable people only.”

“Trying to be the King of Mercenaries?”

“Hardly. I’m not interested in titles. My only concern is demons—and the ones who worship them.”

Tom froze mid-scratch of his beard.

“You mean…”

“I’m going to wipe out every last one rooted in the Empire.”

“…”

Even the royal family hadn’t been able to do that.
Finding demon worshippers was harder than finding the demons themselves.

Tom remembered the rumors—a southern count had found traces of a cult recently, launched a raid, and lost nearly 80% of his forces.

“Are you serious?”

There wasn’t even a hint of a joke in Dermo’s expression.

“I’m not exactly in the mood for jokes.”

“If you mean that… you’re insane.”

“So what?”

“If that’s true, I’ll just slow you down.”

“I’ll make you stronger. Don’t worry about that.”

Tom’s gaze lingered on the coins.

Why do I feel like… he might actually pull it off?

At last, Tom reached out and grabbed the coins.

“I’ve heard that intelligent demons grant human desires,” he said.

He clenched the coins tightly in his hand.

“I want wealth.
So this contract—I’m not making it as a man, but as someone asking the blood flowing in your veins to grant my desire.”

His eyes locked with Dermo’s, burning with greed and obsession.

[Mercenary ‘Tom’ has joined your party.]

Dermo’s lips curled faintly upward.

“I’ll make it happen. Just don’t die.”

Tom pocketed the coins and asked,

“So, it’s obvious we’ll clear out all the demons around here first. What’s next?”

“I’ll be heading to Lunapol to find someone.”

“Lunapol, huh… That’s about a week’s journey on foot.”

Just then, James came out from the kitchen humming, carrying food.

“Here we go! Tender chicken with my wife’s special sauce!”

He set a large plate of chicken before Dermo, pouring steaming red sauce over it and handing him a fork.

“It’s to die for!”

Dermo took a bite at James’s urging.
The spicy sauce spread over his tongue like silk.

“How is it? Delicious, right?”

“Hmm. Probably the best thing I’ve eaten here so far.”

“Hahaha! Of course it is—it’s my wife’s cooking!”

James roared with laughter.

Dermo chewed silently and glanced at Tom.

“Heading somewhere?”

“Yeah, back out to practice shooting.”

Definitely a hard worker.

“Fine. We’ll hunt Pirovis tomorrow morning. Be ready.”

“Got it.”

As Tom left the inn, bow in hand, Dermo closed his eyes—
recalling Pirovis’s attack patterns.

At dawn the next day.

The guards stationed atop Silverrook’s palisade all looked in the same direction—
toward two mercenaries walking away from the village and into the distant forest.

“Think they’ll be okay?”

“You don’t know? That blond guy took down two demons in just two days.”

“Come on, I know that. That’s not the point.”

One guard turned his head. The other followed his gaze.

“No matter how strong you are—you still burn if you touch fire.”

“Yeah…”

They both looked toward the charred, blackened farmland beyond the village.

They could still remember the farmers who had burned alive in Pirovis’s flames.

Time passed.

The bluish dawn faded. Morning crept in.

Then—

KIIIIYAAAAAAAH!