I Became a Swordsman in a Dystopia

Encounter.

Simply put, a choice.

When an event occurs, these choices appear. These choices can even determine the ending.

Putting aside that complex background, my gaze fixes on the arranged text:

[(Help) Condition: Strength LV3]

[(Don’t Help)]

‘To think this would show up already.’

This wasn’t a main encounter, merely a sub-encounter that wouldn’t be enough to change the flow of events.

‘Strength shouldn’t be an issue thanks to the Humanity’s Ultimate Weapon trait…’

‘Even if I fail, the stress level increase should be minimal.’

This system has countless traps—traps that stop you from making reckless choices.

-Stress Level: 0-

Stress level is one of them. You look at the choices and take action. And when you fail your chosen action, or pick something inhumane, your stress rises.

What happens if the stress level reaches 100?

Negative traits get added or strengthened.

Negative traits are ultimately debuffs.

The more choices you make without using your head, the harder the game gets.

But nail those choices? You get rewards based on what you picked.

I needed to analyze this encounter carefully. If I chose to help, what would be the result?

‘No way to know for sure – it’s all guesswork.’

I reflexively studied the requester. He had a gloomy vibe about him—not a survivor worth remembering. 

No, he might even be someone who needed eliminating.

Cold sweat dripped from his skin.

His eyes are bloodshot.

Saliva drips from his mouth, but he doesn’t even think to wipe it.

The whole group shared his condition, their expressions a mix of wariness and desperation, all bearing those same telltale bloodshot eyes.

Clear symptoms of pre-mutation.

Helping them force open Waylis HQ’s entrance would need careful consideration.

Waylis is one of the city’s largest corporations.

Also, the corporation that effectively controls the city.

The headquarters of such a corporation is like an oasis in the desert, where you can obtain vital resources.

There was no reason to help these pre-mutants into the headquarters—it would only create problems when I returned later. 

The logical choice would be to eliminate everyone showing mutation signs right now, but the ease with which that thought came to me left me with complicated feelings.

‘If necessary, if really necessary, I’ll do it.’

I settle the situation with just those words. 

With that settlement, my thinking changes.

Killing them now would barely be a drop in the bucket.

Considering the number of mutants that appear, it wouldn’t even make a difference.

Calculating the time it would take to kill them, it was better not to do it.

“…Excuse me? Are you listening?”

But there’s still something I’ve missed.

“Who’s trapped at the entrance that you need to break the headquarters’ door to help them?”

That would be the target of the rescue.

“T-that’s…”

Just who are they trying to save?

I push past the hesitating man and head into the crowd.

My brow slightly furrows at the unpleasant body odor, probably because they’ve been struggling with the entrance for a while.

“Are you here to help? Come grab this side with us.”

“…One moment.”

Swoosh

“Hey! Don’t push!”

“If you’re not here to help, at least don’t get in the way…”

Squeezing my body through, ignoring the complaints from the crowd behind me, I peer through the narrow gap.

The entrance had a double-door structure, with first and second doors separated front to back. 

Between them, several people were crying out in pain. 

Through their cries, a voice tinged with resignation reached my ears.

“Please, stop dawdling and open… the door.”

At the same time, my eyes couldn’t help but waver slightly.

‘This woman is.’

“I’ll reward you however much you want.”

Platinum blonde hair visible through the crowd.

Striking red eyes.

One of the notable survivors I’ve been familiar with.

Moreover, someone who bears the Waylis name.

“…Ellie Waylis?”

“If you know who I am… this will be easier. You can break this damn door if you need to. Just get me out of here.”

Meeting her was surprising.

Was she trapped here at this point in time?

Her tired and resigned expression speaks to her condition.

‘…She doesn’t seem to be in immediate danger.’

In terms of game progression, she escapes from here one way or another.

It’s just a matter of when she escapes.

Also, she’s someone who hasn’t been injected with NH-03.

She’s simply tired and exhausted from this situation.

‘Right, Ellie was set up as someone young enough not to need anti-aging treatments.’

Now the awkward pieces fall into place.

Cyberpunk.

Setting-wise, this is a society where extreme individualism prevails.

Of course, the apocalyptic backdrop plays a part, but in-game survivors are, to put it nicely, indifferent to others.

To put it loosely, they’re inconsiderate.

If such people would go so far as to break down Waylis headquarters’ door to save someone.

Someone like Ellie Waylis would be reason enough to make sense.

These potential mutants were trying to save her for a generous reward.

This changes the story a bit.

Opening the door to build a friendly relationship with a notable survivor might seem inefficient, but efficiency is something that can be improved, so.

“Do you have anything to use as a lever?”

“…A lever?”

“A club or blunt object would work too.”

‘…Encounters are also statistically a means to obtain bonus traits, after all.’

Encounters like this often held hidden rewards, varying based on how you solved them.

If you choose a ‘hidden choice’ instead of the presented options.

The probability of obtaining bonus traits increases.

‘I can definitely draw it out.’

Just then,

Someone shuffled about hesitantly.

In their hand was a security baton.

Looking at their uniform, they were a Waylis security guard.

“Could I borrow what you’re holding?”

“This…?”

“Yes.”

“What are you planning to do?”

“I plan to break it.”

“…”

A moment of silence.

The surrounding reactions were largely similar.

“What is this person…”

“Stop with the useless talk and just help open the door.”

“I’m sorry, but you can’t break reinforced glass with this.”

Only the security guard tries to dissuade me with a troubled expression.

He’s right.

The black glass at the headquarters entrance is reinforced alloy glass.

The metallic glass doesn’t look like it could be broken with a flimsy baton.

However, that’s just common sense.

Theoretically, it’s possible.

If you have Strength LV7 and the Weapon Proficiency trait, that is.

“I have a way to break it.”

“What?”

“I’m very busy right now. I don’t have time. Please.”

“Good grief…”

No persuasion was needed.

Those suffering from mutation symptoms were too exhausted already.

“Hah… Is this really the time to be stubborn?”

“Just give it to them. Let’s see what they can do.”

Rather, their reactions are tinged with irritable annoyance and mockery, willing to watch what happens.

“…Here you go.”

I adjusted my grip on the security guard’s baton, feeling its weight in my hand. 

Honestly…

I couldn’t be certain,

I still lack confidence in my traits, after all.

However, if this world is the one I know.

It’s possible.

Therefore, this situation offered a chance to verify my doubts. 

It’s late to confess now, but… 

Among the reasons I chose to help in such a troublesome way, this verification process was the biggest factor.

‘If I think too hard about it, I won’t be able to do anything. Just think of it as a game. I have to.’

Despite thousands of playthroughs, I’d never actually held or swung a weapon in real life.

No kendo training, no baseball experience, not even the simple act of swinging a club.

With such limited experience, my only option was to mimic the character’s movements as best I could. 

So I grip the baton lightly with both hands, putting strength into my grip.

I aim at the alloy glass in a stance ready to swing the blunt weapon.

“Heh, they’re really going to try to break that?”

“We just wasted time.”

Reactions of incomprehension come from all sides.

But it doesn’t matter.

Even I wouldn’t have easily understood.

“Step back, just in case.”

Then in that fleeting moment…

It felt like my whole body was about to burst.

Like a spring coiled and ready to release.

Maybe because of nervousness.

It might look like an awkward stance.

But I don’t care.

My waist rotates as my arms move simultaneously.

The baton in my hands draws a simple arc as it swings.

There was no time to appreciate it.

The moment was too brief for appreciation.

Just a short but intense feeling transmitted through my palm and…

CRASH-!

“Huh?”

An explosive sound hits my ears and reverberates through my brain.

What just happened?

No matter how I think about it, I couldn’t help but be astonished at the explosive movement that burst forth.

“…!?!?”

So this is what it feels like.

And I couldn’t help but be bewildered by the result I created.

Crack…!

The alloy glass cracked, contrary to everyone’s expectations.

“…”

“…oh.”

“Huh…”

The surrounding reactions were a bit drier than the situation warranted.

They were dumbfounded.

Eventually, someone’s words summed up the general sentiment.

“What did I just see?”

I felt the same way.

‘Holy shit.’

Inside, amazement was bursting forth.

But I didn’t show it.

I forced down my surging excitement, allowing my mind to settle into a steady rhythm.

“Whew…”

It was a successful verification process.

…However.

Something felt complicated though, as negative traits surfaced in my thoughts before the positive ones.

Still,

‘Maybe… five more swings should do it.’

It wasn’t meaningless.

At least I realized there was room for achievement.

The cracked alloy glass.

Since it has multiple layers, breaking it in one hit is impossible.

So I strike without hesitation.

CRASH─!

“Uh… uhh… Shouldn’t we get back?”

The second impact was smaller than the first.

However, the cracks in the glass spread more chaotically.

Crack-!

“G-get back!”

The web of cracks in the black glass becomes more pronounced.

Crack-!

“The glass is breaking! Step back!”

Is this what it feels like to get more comfortable with striking?

I raise the baton over my head one last time.

And as I bring it down…

“Wh-whoa!”

“It’s really br-breaking!”

CRASH! SHATTER!

The glass exploded outward.

A small worry occurred to me belatedly.

‘Wait, if Ellie got injured by the glass shards… this would be a disaster.’

I was so caught up in the trait verification process that I didn’t think about the secondary consequences.

However, such worry proved unnecessary.

“Are you… perhaps a monster?”

She and the others emerge from the entrance unharmed, wearing dumbfounded expressions.

It was a perfect success.

Ding!-

【People Trapped in Waylis (1)】

[(Unexpected: Break the entrance without help)]

[+Support Skill: Focused Strike (LV.1)]

“…There it is.”

A hidden choice.

And an [Unexpected] choice at that.

The additional reward obtained was worth it.

‘Already got a skill, huh.’

Though not a trait, obtaining a technique was valuable enough.

However, at that moment,

Ding!

[Cancel: Focused Strike (LV.1)]

[-Support Skill: Focused Strike (LV.1)]

Perplexing system messages continue.

Ding!

[‘Legendary Sword Talent’ Effect Activated]

[+Support Skill: Single Strike (LV.1)]

Ding!

[‘Legendary Sword Talent’ Effect Activated]

[Change: Single Strike (LV.1) >> Heavy Single Strike (LV.1)]

Ding!

[‘Legendary Sword Talent’ Effect Activated]

[Change: Heavy Single Strike (LV.1) >> Sharp Single Strike (LV.1)]

Ding!

[‘Legendary Sword Talent’ Effect Activated]

[Change: Sharp Single Strike (LV.1) >> Slash (LV.1)]

[+Support Skill: Slash (LV.1)]

“Huh… hehe.”

Along with confirming my traits, I finally understood what the description of Legendary Sword Talent meant by “overwhelming talent.” 

This was the moment everything clicked into place.