A Gamer's Guide To Beating The Tutorial

Lunch was good. Need I say more? We stumbled around for almost a full hour, moving around the entire circumference of the market district. We saw pubs, grander restaurants, small shops for armor and weapons and even magical items, alongside the whole of the marketplace itself. It was actually really cool. There were so many players selling so many things, others advertising their party and trying to gather more members to tackle Purgatory.

I was fine with any kind of food, but Moleman disagreed. He clearly wanted to bring me someplace nice, with good, standard cuisine. A task we soon found to be a fair bit more difficult than otherwise expected.

In the end, we started to run out of time, so even though Moleman was still hesitant, we settled for a bit of street food. Moleman said it tasted like dog food and I agreed. It was delicious.

But now, with the food and trial done and over with, there was only one thing left to do. The colosseum stood before us, overflowing with wild roaring and cheering. It was a little daunting, but I felt excited nonetheless. We entered, and Moleman brought me to the door leading into the challengers’ preparing room. He couldn’t accompany me inside since he wasn’t taking part in the skirmish, so I bid him adieu and received his promise that he’d be watching me from the bleachers. Worrying, or kind? Both.

I enter. There has to be at least two hundred people in here, all gathered in small crowds around tables and in uncomfortable-looking sofas. But that’s just the common area. Closer to the wall are several different shrines to various gods, whetstones and water and oil, cauldrons and mortars and accompanying ladles and such, alongside various other things I’m sure is to be used to prepare for the battle. Not a lot of people are using these various preparatory items, but the ones that do seem almost masterful at it. Armor is polished to a sheen, weapons are given intense care, sticks of incense and other small such offerings are left at the various shrines, and potions are brewed.

There’s also a wall of dummies and punching bags and such things, all of which have clearly been put to use. Poor things.

Of all the people in the room, I have the longest hair. It goes down to just above my shoulders, whereas the standard hair length in this room is very short, only barely longer than a buzz-cut for most with the longest having a pretty standard haircut. They can’t have been in the tutorial for more than a few months.

The difference between us is clear, and the second I step inside, they notice it. A few groups closest to the door turn and look at me like I just stepped into the women’s bathroom, whereas a few others look at me like I’m not even human.

“Excuse me, sir—” a voice I recognise says, her words cut short once our eyes meet. I recognise her as Patty, but the patch on her chest introduces her as ‘Cathy.’ But she looks the exact same. It’s just that her hair is blonde instead of brown, and the smile she gives me is wryly uncomfortable. And now she’s looked away. In a single breath, she mumble-raps, “OhsorrysirIdidn’tknowitwasyoupardonme,” and then she hastily steps away, flat-cap heels clicking frantically as she goes.

…Yeah, that’s right! Better not mess with me, lady! Still, that’s kind of weird. Identical twins? No, this is something else. I just can’t really figure out what.

“Wow,” someone says, whistling. I turn to see a young face, even younger than me. He smiles excitedly. “Even though Mole told me this might be the case, I can’t believe the Goddess of Compassion actually hates someone.” He holds out a hand towards me. “ReefCounter, or Reef for short. Hard difficulty, and party leader of Wu-Li.”

Ah. This is the guy, then?

Flanking him are four other party members. From what I can tell, they’ve got two magicians, a spearman, an archer and a heavily armored tank. Good balance, and they seem to be well-coordinated. I wonder how Moleman knows them? More so, I wonder how they know Moleman.

Reef, the spearman and leader, waggles his hand a little, but after a few more seconds he understands that I have no intention of taking it, so he pulls it back.

“Well, erm, I guess there’s no need for introductions on your end, Kitty. Mole told us that you might be reluctant to outright join the party, so if you want, you can just consider us your backup. Fight as much as you want, and then once the skirmish ends, we’ll be standing next to you, and move together to the semi-finals. So, it’s more like we’re forming an alliance instead of you joining our party. Does that sound alright to you, Kitty?”

Yup, sounds perfect. I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.

With the conversation finished, I spin on my heel and start walking away, towards… anywhere, really.

“H—hey, wait!”

I peek over my shoulder.

“Before the skirmish starts, you have to have a shard installed at the reception desk, otherwise you can’t join!”

Ah. Okay, thanks. I do a thumbs up for him and head towards the reception desk. There’s a line, but that’s fine. I can wait at least semi-patiently. The looks people give me are somewhat disconcerting, though. After almost six months on floor fifteen, it feels weird to no longer be the tallest person in the room. If my posture hadn’t resembled that of a shrimp I might not have been the shortest, but as it is, all gazes turned my way are looking down at me. I don’t really like it. Makes me antsy.

I keep myself from bodily reacting by recalling that in a few minutes, I’ll get to tear all of these snoopers apart with my bare hands. It’s a good thought, and it makes me smile—and drool a little. Ah, conditioning works way too fast…

Before I know it, I’m at the front of the line, and Cathy still won’t look me in the eye. “You want, um, a shard, I take it?”

I nod at her.

“Of course. Not a problem. Please, remove your…” her gaze briefly crosses my chest to realize that, yeah, I’m not wearing anything. She clears her throat into her fist. “Er-herm, please grip the handles.”

Handles? Oh, these. I hadn’t noticed them before, but there are a pair of handles stuck to the receptionist desk. Although I’m wary of divine tricks, I take a hold of them and watch as Cathy conjures a BLACK and RED shard from thin air. It looks like obsidian dipped in blood, and as she holds it up, I feel something within me resonate. It feels… oddly familiar.

My thoughts are interrupted as she leans forward and pushes the shard inside my chest. It slips through skin and bone and flesh easily, all the way into my heart, which experiences a sensation closest compared to cardiac arrest.

—Guhh…!

has merged with your

Unhatched Soul to form

a temporary Soul.>

Ahh, so that’s what it was, eh…? It hurts like hell, but knowing that it’s nothing I haven’t experienced before makes it manageable. I clench my teeth hard enough to feel a few creak dangerously, and after a few seconds, the throbbing pain in my chest fades into nothing but a mild heartache.

While I’m clutching at my chest like a stock image of a heart attack, Cathy apathetically tells me to get out of line, and I do just that.

Outside a large door, I hear the rupturing cheers of the crowd going wild. A message appears before my eyes.

has now ended.>

4:59>

Five minutes left. Five minutes to spend somehow, hopefully without having to talk to anyone and therefore start the skirmish early. To avoid other people, I stalk over to a corner and sit down, hugging my knees to my chest. It’s kind of funny to watch everyone in the room suddenly confused, but my fun is ended by Cathy’s icy-cold glare. Either way, I remain in the fetal position, waiting for the time to pass.

And, eventually…

0:00>

Please make your way towards the arena.>

Everyone got the same message, and as I had hoped, they all begin moving towards the same place. I follow, hidden between plates of armor and quivers and sheaths.

We enter out into the glaring sunlight, and I have to briefly shield my eyes to make out the arena we’re entering. The scene itself is a large, round platform, surrounded by a moat containing disturbingly delicious-looking water. I’d expect there to be like sharks or whatever in the moat to eat the dumb losers who fall out of bounds, but no. The water looks supernaturally clear, and as we’re walking above it across a small wooden bridge I hear someone mention in awed, hushed tones, “Th—that’s first-class divine water…!”

Since I don’t know what that is, I keep walking out into the middle of the arena. While the slowpokes catch up to the rest of us, I turn my gaze towards the bleachers. They’re hardly full, but there are still quite a few members in the audience. I don’t need my eyes to find Moleman, though. His scent is unmistakable, and he’s… right there! Sitting next to a group of people, watching curiously. I wave at him. He waves back at me. Wonderful. Motivation: gained.

As the final few challengers cross the bridge, it’s drawn up, leaving us stranded on the arena. Just as I’m beginning to wonder when I’ll get to shed some blood, a voice speaks. An upsettingly familiar one, too.

“And with that, my beloved audience, the fighters of floor eighteen have arrived! For those not in the know, I, Hell Administrator God of Pain, will be your commentator!” My head turns with a creak towards the sky, where the sound is coming from. Up there, sitting on a cloud of stars, is none other than Pain. He gives a sly grin that I know is for me and me alone. “Is everyone down there ready~?”

The collected fighters turn their heads to look at each other, clenching weapons into their hands and preparing spells at the tips of their fingers. We’re packed too tightly on too small of a stage to make proper space between everyone, but people still try, trying their damndest to not turn their backs on anyone but their party members.

“Glad to hear it!” the God of Pain booms. “In that case… Ready, set…”

“Go!”