Limitless Skill: From Zero to Hero in Another World

Here's a fun fact nobody puts in the isekai brochure:

Fantasy cities are confusing as hell.

I'd been wandering for… hell, I don't even know how long. An hour? Two? Time meant nothing except how many times my stomach had growled loud enough to echo off stone walls.

Every street looked the same: cobblestones, fancy banners, crowds of people yelling about prices. The only difference was whether the air smelled like roasted meat, horse crap, or some weird combination of both.

At first, I'd told myself:

"Relax, Gideon. You've played a million RPGs. Just memorize the landmarks. Easy-peasy."

Yeah. Except I'd pass a fountain shaped like a lady pouring water from a jug… then five minutes later, I'd see the same damn fountain again.

Or I'd turn down an alley thinking it was a shortcut, only to wind up back where I started, staring at the same guy selling suspiciously shiny mushrooms. The mushroom guy gave me a little wave every time I passed. By the fourth lap, he was offering me a frequent-shopper discount.

My stomach was staging a coup.

At one point, I actually stopped and tried sniffing the air like some bloodhound, hoping I'd magically track down food. Didn't work. I just inhaled dust and sneezed so hard a passing elf dropped her groceries.

And don't even get me started on trying to ask for directions.

Every time I opened my mouth, the locals either:

Blinked at me like I was speaking Martian.

Gave me directions filled with words like "left at the Windspun Gate, past the Cobalt Spire, then follow the sunward road until you see the bronze wyvern."

Or tried to sell me a map for a price that might as well have been my soul.

I was sweating, tired, and seriously considering licking one of those glowing fruits I couldn't afford, just in case it had some calories in the glow.

"This is fine," I told myself. "Totally fine. I'm just… lost, starving, and broke in a medieval death trap. No big deal."

But I'd be lying if I said the panic wasn't starting to claw at the edges of my brain.

Because here's the thing: in games, if you get lost, you open the map. Or fast-travel. Or hit the damn quest marker.

Here? I didn't even have a mini-map. I was running on vibes and sarcasm.

So there I was, Gideon Brangwen, top-tier gamer and current Class Z loser, aimlessly circling the same streets while my stomach tried to digest itself.

And somewhere between the third and fourth lap past mushroom-guy, I finally admitted the ugly truth:

"I gotta go back to the guild. Or I'm gonna die of hunger before a single monster even gets a swing at me."

Look, pride's a hell of a drug.

I'd stomped out of that Adventurer's Guild all dramatic and righteous, telling myself I'd show them, I'd forge my own path, I'd become some unstoppable hero despite being Class Z.

Ten out of ten motivational speech.

But speeches don't fill your belly. Or find you a place to sleep. Or keep you from dying in a gutter because you accidentally pissed off the local thieves' guild.

I leaned against a stone wall and stared at the sky for a minute.

Blue, cloudless, birds wheeling overhead. Gorgeous. Majestic. Great.

But while I was busy admiring the scenery, my stomach let out a monstrous roar that made a nearby dwarf lady clutch her chest like she thought a dragon was attacking.

"Okay, okay!" I muttered. "I get it. You win. We're going back."

God, I hated admitting defeat.

I'd wanted to avoid crawling back to the guild looking like a loser. But at least the guild had walls. And maybe chairs. And—if the gods were merciful—some kind of quest board with jobs that paid money so I wouldn't starve to death.

So I turned around and started trudging back the way I'd come… or what I hoped was the way I'd come.

Because spoiler alert: even finding the guild again was a total crapshoot.

It took me another twenty minutes, three accidental detours, and one heated argument with a guy selling "lucky worm charms" before I finally spotted the familiar big wooden doors of the Adventurer's Guild.

I stood there for a second, scowling at the sign over the entrance like it had personally offended me.

"Screw you, fancy guild. I'm only coming back because I'm starving."

But hey. Even I knew when to fold.

So I sucked in a deep breath, straightened my hoodie, and pushed the doors open again.

The second I stepped back into the Adventurer's Guild, the whole vibe felt different.

Or maybe it was just me feeling like the world's biggest jackass for storming out earlier like some dramatic anime protagonist.

Inside, the guild hall was packed.

Adventurers clustered around long wooden tables, swapping stories and clinking mugs of frothy ale. A bard sat on a stool in the corner, strumming a lute and singing something about "the blood-soaked fields of destiny," which frankly sounded way too metal for a lute.

A couple of burly dudes in spiked armor were arm-wrestling so hard the table creaked.

Meanwhile, the guild staff bustled back and forth, carrying stacks of parchment and yelling out names over the general chaos.

And me?

I slunk in like the world's most obvious outsider.

Some people noticed me right away.

A human swordsman with scars across his cheek nudged his buddy and whispered, loud enough for me to hear:

"Hey, look. Class Z's back. Didn't last long out there, did he?"

His friend snickered so hard he nearly choked on his beer.

An elf girl lounging near the fireplace gave me a once-over and rolled her eyes.

"He'll be monster chow before sundown," she said, in that high-and-mighty elf voice I'd only ever heard from arrogant NPCs in games.

Normally, I'd have had a snarky comeback locked and loaded.

But right then? I just didn't have the energy.

"Screw it," I muttered. "Let them talk."

Because I was on a mission.

I kept my head down and marched straight for the quest board on the far wall.

It was huge—a massive wooden slab covered in sheets of parchment. Quests were pinned everywhere, stacked three or four deep, fluttering slightly in the breeze every time someone passed.

Scribbles of monster names. Payment amounts in gold and silver. Phrases like "URGENT" and "DANGEROUS—RANK B AND ABOVE ONLY."

Behind me, the crowd kept laughing and bragging.

Some guy shouted about how he singlehandedly took down a giant boar.

A dwarf roared about finding a vein of enchanted silver.

A group of beastkin girls squealed and compared sparkly crystals they'd looted.

I ignored every last one of them.

Because right then, all that mattered was one thing:

Finding a quest. Any quest.

I didn't care if it was monster-slaying, gathering herbs, or cleaning up slime poop. I needed money. I needed food. And hell… maybe I needed a win, just once, in this insane new world.

So I cracked my knuckles, narrowed my eyes at the quest board, and whispered:

"All right. Let's see what you've got for me."

Seriously, there were so many papers pinned up that it looked like some conspiracy theorist's wall, complete with red string diagrams and scribbled exclamation points.

I squinted and started reading:

"URGENT: Eliminate Wyvern Threat in the Northern Cliffs. Rank B minimum. Reward: 500 gold."

Pass. I'd seen the size of a wyvern's head being dragged through town. Hard no.

"Escort Mission: Safely transport Lady Mirabelle to the Sapphire Lake. Rank C and above. Reward: 150 gold."

Also pass. Escort missions are cursed. I learned that the hard way in Chrono Crusaders Online when I had to keep a drunken dwarf NPC alive for four hours while he kept trying to run into enemy mobs. Never again.

"Request: Retrieve ten bundles of Silverleaf Herbs from the Moonshade Forest. Rank D. Reward: 8 silver."

Okay, not horrible. But I'd rather not get poisoned by some weird plant I can't identify. And eight silver wasn't exactly going to buy me a kingdom.

Finally, my eyes fell on one that seemed almost… doable.

"Cleansing the Kobold Nest. Rank Z permitted. Objective: Eliminate at least five kobolds in the shallow tunnels east of the city. Reward: 15 silver."

I re-read it three times, half expecting the parchment to explode into flames and reveal the true boss was a dragon or something. But no—it really said Rank Z permitted. And the reward was fifteen silver.

"Kobolds…" I muttered. "Tiny lizard-dog dudes, right? How bad could they be?"

Sure, fifteen silver wasn't exactly retirement money, but it was better than starving. And hey—if this was an RPG, low-level mobs were exactly where you started.

Besides, my gamer brain whispered that I might drop loot from kobolds. Maybe even a rusty dagger or some copper coins.

I reached up, grabbed the quest slip, and yanked it off the board like I was pulling a legendary drop.

A guild clerk materialized at my side like an NPC triggered by a quest interaction.

"Ah. Cleansing the Kobold Nest. Are you certain you wish to undertake this mission, Sir Brangwen?"

I puffed out my chest and tried to sound heroic.

"Yup. Gimme the details."

She handed me a crumpled piece of parchment with coordinates scrawled on it in messy handwriting. No map. No illustrations. Just directions like:

"Proceed eastward past the river fork, follow the dirt road to the large oak tree, then turn left at the boulder shaped like a lion."

I stared at it, then at her.

"Seriously? No map? No waypoint marker?"

She blinked.

"I… don't know what that means."

Fantastic. Even the quest design in this world sucked.

But I stuffed the parchment into my pocket and slapped the iron sword on my hip.

Because if there was one thing I'd learned in every RPG I'd ever played…

"You gotta start somewhere."

•••••

So there I was, quest slip in my pocket, feeling halfway decent for the first time all day.

Until I looked at the directions again.

"Proceed eastward past the river fork, follow the dirt road to the large oak tree, then turn left at the boulder shaped like a lion."

I squinted at the paper.

"Boulder shaped like a lion? What does that even mean? Is it an actual lion? A carving? A boulder that just kinda looks lion-ish if you squint real hard and stand on your head?"

Clearly, I was not cut out for fantasy GPS.

So I did the only thing left: I found the nearest city guard.

He was a big guy, armored from neck to toes, with a helmet shaped like it could double as a battering ram. I tapped him on the shoulder.

"Hey. Sorry, man. Can you point me to… uh… the Kobold Nest dungeon?"

He turned his head verrry slowly, like he was afraid I might explode. His eyes squinted at me through the visor.

"The… what?"

"The dungeon. You know. Tunnels. Kobolds. Kinda stinky, probably?"

He shifted his spear and grunted.

"You're… going there?"

Another guard sidled over, a woman with a scar across her eyebrow. She stared at me like I'd just announced I was going to juggle flaming swords while naked.

"That's monster territory. You sure, Class Z?"

"Yeah," I said, puffing up my chest. "Gideon Brangwen, professional monster-slayer. Totally got this."

Okay, lie. But they didn't have to know that.

The male guard scratched his chin.

"All right, listen close. Head east out of the city gates. Cross the stone bridge over the river fork. Keep going till you see an oak tree with lightning scars on the trunk. Then follow the trail left until you hit a rock that… yeah, kinda looks like a lion. Entrance to the kobold tunnels is behind it."

I nodded, trying to memorize every word.

"Got it. Stone bridge. Lightning tree. Lion rock. Dungeon. Easy."

The female guard sighed.

"Seriously, kid. Go home. Or at least find a party. Kobolds'll gut you and pick their teeth with your bones."

I gave her my best grin.

"Thanks for the pep talk."

And off I went, clutching my iron sword like it was Excalibur, my stomach still howling for food, my brain screaming that this was probably the worst idea I'd ever had.

But at least I finally had directions.

Because if I was gonna die in another world, I'd prefer it be in a dungeon.

"That's how heroes go out, right?"

So there I was, standing outside the city gates with a slip of parchment crumpled in my fist, directions rattling around in my brain like dice in a Yahtzee cup.

The sun was blazing overhead, the wind smelled like grass and distant woodsmoke, and the road ahead twisted off into the countryside like some scenic desktop wallpaper.

And me?

I was starving, broke, armed with a cheap-ass iron sword, and about to march into a monster-infested dungeon alone.

But somehow, despite my stomach gnawing at itself, despite the guards warning me I'd get gutted like a trout… there was this buzzing in my chest. Like that feeling you get right before you pull a legendary drop from a loot box.

Because for the first time since waking up in this insane world…

I finally had a quest.

I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders, and started walking.

One step. Then another.

Birds chirped overhead. A wagon rumbled past, creaking under a load of barrels. Somewhere far off, I heard a roar that definitely wasn't human.

"Okay, Gideon," I muttered. "Time to show this world what a Class Z loser can do."

And maybe—just maybe—this was where I'd finally figure out if I was doomed to be monster chow…

…or if I was about to become the biggest game-breaking glitch this world had ever seen.