Chapter 4
The Crisis Management Team of Second.
This was the department responsible for predicting the autonomous direction Second might take, and coming up with countermeasures in advance.
Since the behavior of NPCs in Second was fairly predictable, most of what the team did revolved around monitoring unusual users.
And Second had plenty of “unusual users.”
“Hup! Cha! Hup! Cha! Still nothing? Shouldn’t something pop up by now?”
A user who, right after starting the game, obtained a shovel and was endlessly digging in the outskirts of the beginner hunting ground.
“I’ve hit this thing ten thousand times, and still no hidden quest? Fine! I’ll go for a hundred thousand hits!”
Another user furiously pounding on a scarecrow in the training grounds of the beginner city without rest.
“Try killing me again! My dream is to become a Death Master! Soon I’ll get a hidden class—ack!”
Yet another repeatedly charging into monsters and dying the moment he resurrected.
These behaviors were so absurd they made the Crisis Management Team’s employees sigh every time they saw them.
And yet, they kept monitoring such cases because—
“No way a hidden quest actually spawns from that, right?”
—due to Second’s autonomous system.
Although there was also a balance team in the game company behind Second, the in-game ecosystem was largely managed by a supercomputer that ran everything autonomously.
Not long ago, a user who went around chomping on every monster in sight received the hidden class “Predator.” You never knew what could happen.
Because of such unpredictability, they couldn’t afford to ignore oddities.
At that moment—
“Team Leader Kang.”
“Yeah, Assistant Manager Seo. What now? Don’t tell me the guy who’s been digging finally got a hidden class or something?”
“No, not yet.”
“Not yet? That’s not comforting. So, what’s up?”
Assistant Manager Seo approached Team Leader Kang.
As the head of the Crisis Management Team, Kang was deeply entrenched in all the variables and crises Second could throw at him. Dark circles framed his eyes, and his face was unshaven—he clearly hadn’t gone home in days.
Seo began her report.
“A First user has appeared.”
“What? It’s been two years since the game launched—there’s still a First user left?”
“Yes.”
“Huh. I thought we’d seen the last of them.”
To the Crisis Management Team, “First users” were a special category.
First was the original game that preceded Second.
It had been such a mess that almost no one played it—but not literally no one.
And among the few who did, some gained the “Returnee’s Benefit” when transitioning to Second, allowing them to bring over a portion of their abilities from First.
One such player was Yulha, the current No. 1 ranked swordsman in Korea.
Using the swordsmanship and skills she had mastered in First, she had rocketed to the top.
“Fine. Just classify them as F-rank.”
“Can we really rank them as low as F?”
“First users only mattered during launch. It’s been two years. Even if they’re a bit skilled, what can they really do now?”
“But…”
“Seo, you know how busy we are these days? Instead of wasting time watching the beginner city, go monitor the Pa-Cheon Guild. I’ve got a feeling something big’s about to go down there.”
“…Understood.”
Team Leader Kang didn’t even bother to check the report.
To be fair, First users were only significant during the early stages of the game. At this point, even if a new one emerged, they couldn’t influence much.
At most, they’d level up faster.
But that wasn’t enough to count as a true “variable” anymore.
So Kang lost interest.
Yet as Seo returned to her desk with the report, her expression remained troubled.
“This player… doesn’t feel like a normal First user.”
Something about it didn’t sit right with her.
A First user, appearing two years after launch?
And that nickname…
She couldn’t shake the feeling there was something extraordinary about it.
Just as she was about to sit down—
“Team Leader Kang!”
One of the employees monitoring the game burst in, clearly in a panic.
“An alley in the Starting City just exploded!”
“What? What do you mean exploded? Did someone throw a bomb?”
“No, sir! Our monitoring shows a lightning strike hit it!”
“Lightning? Why the hell would lightning hit an alley in the Starting City?!”
“We’re not sure! All we found were a bunch of charred gangsters!”
“What about other players? Any injuries? If someone got hurt, we’ll be flooded with reports!”
“W-we haven’t confirmed that yet…”
“Isn’t that your job?! Get on it—now!”
“Yes, sir!”
A strange phenomenon had occurred in the Starting City.
Why?
As Seo overheard the situation unfold, one name came to her mind—
“…Mir.”
The new First returnee who had entered Second.
Meanwhile—
Having just blasted a group of thugs and an alley with divine lightning, I—
“Wow, that scared the hell out of me.”
—ran far away from the alley and made my escape.
It made sense. Even if those were NPC thugs, I had basically leveled the alley with lightning.
If the city guards had caught me at the scene, I would’ve been arrested for sure.
They weren’t dead, but the entire alley had been scorched.
I quickly pulled out an item from Luke:
[ Tarnkappe ]
(Untradeable)
Type: Cloak
Grade: Heroic
Requirement: Level 150
Description: A magical cloak used by the great Dragon Slayer, Siegfried, to conceal his identity.
Tarnkappe.
A magic cloak imbued with invisibility—very handy.
Using its power, I escaped without being seen.
Once I reached a quiet place and caught my breath, I felt the cloak’s magic fade and deactivate. It then burned into ashes.
“A penalty, huh?”
I recalled the Astrapē lightning I had just used.
It had been powerful—but not as powerful as I remembered.
Same with Tarnkappe. Every time I moved, people would look around suspiciously—it didn’t feel like full invisibility.
So I began experimenting.
“Let’s filter by grade and level…”
After trying various combinations and using different items, I figured out how Luke’s inventory worked:
First: The items are untradeable.
Only I can use them. I had hoped to sell some for cash, but no luck.
Second: Items are usable, but their performance is scaled down to my level.
Which makes sense. Normally, if your level is too low, you can’t use the item at all.
The fact that a level 1 player like me could use Astrapē in the first place was absurd.
Even so, downgraded or not, these items were still powerful.
Third: There’s a time limit on usage.
The higher the item grade and the stricter the level gap, the shorter the usable duration.
For example, I could only use the mythical weapon Astrapē once.
Tarnkappe lasted just long enough for me to escape the alley.
A bit disappointing, but fair.
No matter—these items were still plenty strong. As I grew stronger, their true power would return.
For now, what mattered was—
[Sudden Quest: “Thugs in the Alley” complete.]
[You’ve received a small amount of gold carried by the thugs.]
The thugs’ pocket change had been automatically added as a reward.
Thank goodness. If I had to loot them manually, I would’ve missed it.
Thanks to taking out five of them, I earned a decent amount for a newbie.
So—
“Let’s find a place to stay.”
I decided to settle down.
First stop: an inn.
Finding one wasn’t hard.
Its location—
“It’s exactly the same.”
—was just where I remembered from First.
Of course, it was different in every other way.
Back in First, it had been a two-story inn. Now it was three stories, with more refined architecture.
Most notably:
[Campfire Inn]
Even the name had changed.
“Welcome! How can I help you? Dining? Or a room?”
“One night with meals. Please bring the food right away.”
“Sure! Our standard meal is the Campfire Set. Is that okay?”
“That’s fine.”
“It’s our most popular set in the city! You’ll love it!”
I began with a meal.
Just like in First, eating was a crucial mechanic in Second.
The game emphasized realism—if you didn’t eat, you’d suffer debuffs or even die from starvation.
On the flip side, eating gave buffs.
“Here’s your Campfire Set!”
And the Campfire Set—
“Whoa, that smells great.”
“Right? It’s our pride and joy! You better eat it all!”
—looked incredibly luxurious.
A rich stew packed with meat and vegetables.
Freshly baked bread and aromatic honey water.
Still, I didn’t get my hopes up.
Even with cutting-edge VR, reproducing taste was nearly impossible…
Slurp.
“…Huh?”
Delicious.
Insanely delicious.
Not just sweet or salty—it even captured the subtle sweetness from stewed vegetables.
How was this possible?
I inhaled the whole meal without realizing.
The staff smiled at me.
“Told you it’d be good!”
“It’s amazing.”
To think even taste was recreated so perfectly.
Second.
This game had evolved far more than I expected.
It really drove home how First was just a half-finished product.
After the meal, I went up to my room.
Most newbies wouldn’t waste money on a room, but I needed a private space.
Because now—
“Luke.”
– Yes, Master.
“Show me all the elixirs you have.”
Vrrrm—
[Heart of the Golden Dragon]
[Ten-Thousand-Year Polygonum]
[Elf’s Tears]
…And so on.
I needed uninterrupted time, away from everyone.
Just me and my secrets.
