Everyone hates me in this new world and they will pay for it

The cart swayed with the horse's gait. A cool breeze hit the boy's face, signaling the beginning of winter, and the smell of damp leaves hung in the air.

Arthur sat beside the old woman, who guided the horse with precision. Once more, the boy looked at the palm of his hand, and there it was:

[LEVEL 2].

It was really true. He had discovered a way to increase his level, but he couldn't be reckless.

The boy then challenged his own morals. 'Should I just stab all the stronger enemies I find in the back?'

He thought about it. That would work to a certain extent, but level wasn't everything. He would need to improve his battle knowledge, and for that, his only option was a fair duel. The boy was reluctant about the idea of killing humans, especially innocents. He was undecided on how to proceed.

After a few hours, the cart finally stopped in the fields. "We've reached your destination, boy," the old woman exclaimed, adjusting herself. The boy immediately jumped out of the cart, dusting off his clothes. "Thanks for the ride," he said with a smile. The old woman returned the warm smile. "You saved me, boy. It was nothing. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be on my way," she replied, taking the reins. "It was nothing. See you later."

The old woman nodded, setting off south with her cart. Arthur then turned his attention to the town. After months, everything seemed to have returned to normal. He walked to the center, towards the Guild, and stared at the large building. He decided to go inside, pushing open the heavy doors.

The hall was almost empty. Apparently, most of the adventurers were on missions. He passed by the unoccupied chairs and tables with empty beer mugs, heading to the reception desk. Darla was there, writing in her large book with her inkwell. "Arthur, how are you?" she exclaimed, looking at the boy. He approached the counter, leaning on it slightly. "Hello, Darla. I'm doing well. Actually, very well," he replied, happy with his newly gained level.

Darla put her book away, setting the inkwell aside. "What brings you here today? The usual? The quests for your rank are already on the board," she said, pointing to the large mural.

"Actually, no, Darla. I have a question," Arthur asked, curious.

"Then speak, boy," she retorted.

"Can I take quests from a different rank?"

Darla settled back into her chair. "Actually, no. You can only take quests corresponding to your own rank."

The boy looked disappointed. Where could he find strong people to fight? He needed it to raise his level. Arthur took a good look around the place and noticed something: the "Wanted" posters. He saw the image of a child and, at that same moment, had a flashback to when he first arrived here.

"Don't be fooled by the appearance of that miserable whelp, boy. He's very, very dangerous…" The voice of a bearded, one-armed giant echoed in his mind.

'If that brat took off that brute's arm, he must be very strong.'

The boy's mind exploded. He had just had the best possible idea. These wanted criminals were strong and would surely yield many levels for him. And he could kill them with a clean conscience. After all, he would be helping the people of the fields. This eased the weight on his conscience. Only one thing could stop him.

"Is there a rank requirement to hunt these assassins?" Arthur asked, pointing to the wanted posters.

Darla shifted in her chair, clearing her throat. "Actually, no. Anyone can try their luck; it's a mission separate from the Guild. But if you have proof of your success, you can certainly move up in rank," she said, looking at the boy.

Arthur's eyes lit up. He had everything he needed: he would level up, get money from the rewards, and as a bonus, he would even raise his rank. It was almost perfect.

"I wouldn't try that if I were you, kid. But do as you wish," Darla replied, putting her feet up on the counter and her hands behind her head in a resting posture.

Arthur was decided. It didn't matter if he died trying. He was going to hunt these brutes.

The boy then walked to the posters, analyzing them coldly, thinking about who his first target would be. He wanted the easiest one, as his level was still low, but he would try his best. His gaze stopped on a poster slightly smaller than the others, with a poorly drawn picture of a man with a scar over his eye.

WANTED: Garrick "Sleight Hand" Crime: Robbing merchants on the South Road. Reward: 50 silver coins.

'The South Road… That's where the old woman went,' Arthur thought. 'Seems like a good place to start.'

He tore the poster from the mural. "Darla, I'm taking this one," he said, showing her the paper.

Darla just shrugged. "It's on you, kid."

Arthur nodded and left the guild. Unlike before, he now had a goal: to hunt this bastard.

Arthur needed information. He would have to travel south and needed some new supplies. He was still thinking about how he would tell Shapira about this and decided to omit the information for now. She wouldn't like him facing criminals right now, but Arthur saw no other option.

He then headed to Zamir's shop, opening the door with the familiar sound of the bell.

The shop was restored, everything in order. There were a few people grabbing items from the shelves. Arthur approached the empty counter and shouted, "ZAMIR!"

Zamir replied from the back: "BE RIGHT THERE!"

After a few moments, he appeared, handing some goods to a waiting customer. "Thank you, and come again," he said, smiling at the customer as she left the shop.

His attention then turned to Arthur. He picked up a cloth, wiped his hands, and said, "Got something for me, kid?"

"I do," the boy replied, handing over a large jar of slime jelly.

Zamir broke into a wide smile. "This beauty will bring me a nice profit. Good work, Arthur."

Zamir then went back to the storeroom, placing the item on a low shelf. "I need your help, Zamir!" Arthur said, shouting so that he, in the back, could hear him.

The man returned, leaning on the counter. "What do you want, kid?"

Arthur then took the wanted poster for Garrick from his backpack. Zamir's eyes widened, staring at the young man with a look of surprise. "You're going to hunt him?" he asked, still in disbelief.

Arthur, determined, slammed his hand on the counter. "Yes, I am. I need some supplies for the trip south. Can you get them for me?"

"Well… I can. But you know this is dangerous, right? I'd even say it's foolish."

Arthur didn't hesitate and remained confident. "I need his head. I'm willing to take that risk," he said, placing the poster on the counter.

"You can be sure of one thing: if this guy doesn't kill you, Shapira will," Zamir replied, smiling. "But if you're that determined, I'll prepare a basket with supplies for a few days."

Arthur nodded. He knew the danger and that he would get a huge scolding from Shapira, but it was the only way to raise his level now.

Zamir returned from the back with a basket full of supplies: bread, dried meat, a canteen full of water, and some bandages. "Here you go. The slime jelly covers most of it. The rest is on me. Consider it an investment in your future… or your funeral," he said, with his usual acidic humor.

Arthur took the basket and put it in his backpack. "Thanks, Zamir."

"Wait, kid," Zamir called out, his tone now serious. "Remember one thing: people like this Garrick don't fight fair. Keep your eyes open, especially when you're sleeping."

Arthur nodded, understanding the weight of the warning. He turned and left the shop, the bell ringing again as the door closed.

Standing in the street, he looked south. The road was long and uncertain. He was alone, with a target on his back and a dark secret about his power.

'I hope Shapira takes it easy on me,' he thought.

With that thought, Arthur began his journey, turning his back on the town and walking towards his first target.