Golden hair as if woven from sunlight and pointed ears, the hallmark of a race of beauty.
The princess, despite these traits, paradoxically had nothing to her name.
In a dark, unlit room where electricity was a rare luxury, there were only a creaky bed that groaned with every movement and a desk piled high with guns and their components.
That was it.
“...”
Silently, she loaded magazines and inspected her weapons.
Click! Click! Click!
The massive sniper rifle that had once terrified her was now her sole companion and lifeline.
‘I’m so tired.’
After finishing her preparations, the girl set the goggles she had been wearing aside and sat down on the edge of the bed.
She didn’t lie down. Instead, she buried her face in her hands, taking deep, measured breaths.
These moments of stillness had grown more frequent whenever she found herself alone.
She almost wished she could stay like this forever.
‘Mother... Father...’
Her life in Tigrova was nothing more than a faint memory.
The last thing she recalled was reading a picture book in a grand room, waiting for her parents to return.
Those were her childhood days, spent in a luxurious room, unaware of the tragedy about to unfold.
She had been far too young to understand or learn anything meaningful, far too immature to develop a solid sense of self.
Then, one day, the elders had abruptly come to her, telling her they had to flee, pulling her into a life on the run.
Amidst the confusion of their hurried escape, she overheard fragments of conversations: that the newly crowned ruler of Tigrova, the Great White Tiger, had murdered her parents.
The elders said the royal family had to be exterminated, and the princess had to flee to survive.
It was too cruel a tale for a child to bear.
With her mind shattered, the young princess had no time to process her emotions before being molded into a weapon—raised in the wilderness to reclaim Tigrova.
“Princess, humans and beastfolk are tainted with vile blood, akin to demons.”
“Do not speak to races other than elves. They are liars, deceitful with every word they speak.”
“You are the last royal bloodline. You must lead and take responsibility for us.”
“Are you doubting us? Has your thirst for vengeance for the late king waned?”
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“We will uphold you as our princess no matter what. Our existence itself is your proof.”
‘My head hurts.’
The same words had been drilled into her for as long as she could remember.
So often repeated that they now echoed as phantom voices in her mind. She even heard them in her dreams.
“...”
Yet, the girl’s resolve was firm.
Though she had suffered psychological torment for so long, her spirit remained intact, her doubts from the past never entirely erased.
The elders had no idea.
‘I need to find a way back to the city.’
The elders vehemently opposed any external contact, claiming that royal blood should not mingle with commoners.
The first time she was caught sneaking out, she was scolded so severely it left her traumatized.
But she hadn’t given up.
She needed evidence to validate her actions.
She needed to fully understand what had happened on the day Tigrova’s ruler changed.
The princess had tried to uncover the truth while avoiding the elders' watchful eyes, but publicly available information was limited.
No matter how much she searched, she could find no definitive account of her parents' fate.
The most she could uncover was that Tigrova’s leadership had shifted from elves to a white tiger beastfolk.
‘There must be information somewhere...’
Knock, knock, knock.
The knocking at the door ended her reverie.
Her brief moment of rest was over, and her face lifted from her hands to face reality.
“Princess, are you there?”
It was the voice of an elder.
Suppressing the suffocating sensation that gripped her, she answered.
“What is it?”
“Distinguished guests will be arriving shortly. Please go out to meet them.”
“...”
For some reason, her body refused to respond.
She was too mentally drained to move, but she couldn’t tell the elder that.
When the silence stretched on, the elder spoke again in their familiar, authoritative tone.
“Guests of honor deserve proper reception. With the late king gone, it is only fitting for you, Princess, to fulfill this role.”
“...Understood.”
She barely managed to suppress a sigh.
Rising from the bed, the princess began to arm herself lightly.
***
Rohan stepped into the night streets, quickly adjusting the settings on his smartphone.
He ensured that no sound or vibration would alert him to incoming calls or messages.
As he was tweaking the settings, he noticed that Ichinose's profile picture had changed to a cat.
"Cute."
The small detail somehow felt like a good omen, as if things were starting to fall into place. His steps felt lighter.
"Let’s go."
He checked the route in the bustling downtown area and boarded a bus that was just about to depart.
It was past rush hour, so there were plenty of seats available.
After inserting his token, he found a seat. The faint smell of alcohol lingered in the air, likely from a reveler still enjoying the afterglow of their night out, even though no office workers were in sight.
"..."
Rohan cracked a window slightly to let in some fresh air, clearing the atmosphere. Breathing in the crisp air, he began to mentally organize his thoughts.
"The main story begins with Act One of The Broken Crown."
He reviewed the internet news and quest logs again, meticulously checking for anything he might have missed.
In the unsteady confines of the bus, his sharp eyes scanned the text.
[Thirty-something content creator vanishes while filming in a restricted zone.
— Tracing the last call with a friend suggests he was ambushed during filming. According to Elysium Security Department's disclosed data, only a severed leg was found at the scene...]
"That’s just a mistake born from chasing shock value and heading straight into their territory."
That was all there was to the event's origin—nothing more, nothing less.
Players of Abyss City neither knew the content creator’s channel nor cared about his appearance. To them, he was simply the catalyst for the main quest.
"The key point is..."
The culprits behind the incident had already fled far away.
They weren’t hired for a specific job—they committed the crime purely for entertainment. It was merely a habit of theirs on their way to meet the elderly elves who had hired them.
Rohan’s gaze shifted to his quest window. He closed it after one last glance, then tilted his head back to look at the bus ceiling.
"Those scum."
The old elves, desperate to reclaim their lost glory by using the princess as a pawn, knew they only had one chance. They also knew what failure would mean.
Thus, their actions were cautious and insidious.
"..."
To confiscate those decrepit elves’ dentures, Rohan’s targets were similar to his previous foes but still different.
Though their primary task involved monitoring Noah Frozenheart’s movements and routines, that wasn’t their only purpose.
The group also sought to identify any bodyguards that her father, Emperor Tigrova, might have secretly placed to protect her.
"They’re not directly putting Noah in danger."
However, the mercenaries they employed were much more expensive and professional than the Yard-Pound brothers. Skilled in theft and surveillance, they were perfectly suited for dirty work.
Thanks to them, Rohan was replaying the Abyss City launch day in his mind. He tried to recall every tantalizing detail of the main story.
"To figure out the mastermind from the start..."
The quest began by gathering scattered pieces of information from citizens murmuring about ominous news, leading to the identification of the location of the disappearance.
The next step involved exploring several suspected accident sites and encountering patrolling guards who restricted entry.
The third step was sneaking past the Elysium Security guards into the restricted area to collect evidence.
Completing these steps would reveal a rough location marked on the map, prompting further exploration.
"If I follow the game’s process, I’ll be slower than the actual guards. Besides, sneaking past them like in the game isn’t even feasible."
The Elysium Security Department wasn’t some incompetent law enforcement group.
Tasked with protecting Academy City, they were highly skilled, with stringent entry requirements for their ranks—a detail frequently mentioned in the game but not fully appreciated until now, in this reality.
Thus, Rohan decided to skip the intermediate steps and go straight for the conclusion.
While skipping steps might create unforeseen ripples in reality, it was the only clear solution he had at the moment.
"Next stop: ..."
Beep!
Rohan pressed the stop button and got off the bus.
***
Even though they called it Academy City, there were still areas that didn’t quite live up to that name.
Rohan retraced his memories, stepping under a dark bridge, and arrived at an industrial district left unfinished after a corporate bankruptcy halted its development.
He walked as quietly as possible, staying in the shadows and avoiding the dim, flickering streetlights.
"They’re here."
As he ventured deeper, he spotted three vehicles with their engines running: a dump truck loaded with containers and two sedans.
Two vehicles were running but had empty driver’s seats. The only occupied one was the front sedan, where a man was chuckling at something on his smartphone, illuminating his surroundings.
Tattoos covering his body marked his affiliation, excluding his face.
"The rest must be scouting around."
There was no one lying in wait or hiding nearby.
Though there were no passengers, Rohan spotted a firearm resting on the passenger seat beside the man.
"..."
Rohan closed his eyes, focusing his ears. Beyond the low rumble of the engines, he could hear the faint sounds of metal clinking and distant laughter.
"Good. It’s now or never."
The others were far enough away that if he acted, it had to be now.
Moving with purpose, Rohan crept into an ideal position.
"As fast as possible."
This wasn’t the agreed meeting place between the criminals and the elves.
However, their nature as scavengers couldn’t be helped. Like sparrows drawn to grain mills, they had stopped here to scavenge for valuables and dispose of bodies.
Rustle.
Rohan crouched low, carefully avoiding any unnecessary noise. He grabbed a handful of weeds growing from cracks in the pavement and dipped them into a puddle of muddy water.
The harsh night wind worked to his advantage.
Thwack!
Rohan threw part of the damp weeds, letting them stick to the car’s side mirror like loose strands of hair.
It wasn’t enough to obstruct driving, but the fluttering movement was irritating.
The driver must have noticed.
Whirrr— The sedan’s window rolled down.
"Damn it... so filthy."
The man cursed, leaning out to brush away the weeds.
Seizing the opportunity, Rohan gripped a knife tightly and sprang forward, slamming the man’s arm down violently.
Crunch!
The arm bent in a direction it was never meant to.
The man’s eyes widened in shock, his mouth and stomach heaving as he prepared to scream.
"Shh."
Before the man could make a sound, Rohan shoved a sock into his mouth and drove his knife into his throat in one swift motion.
"Mmmph! Mmph—!"
Twisting the blade cruelly, Rohan silenced him for good.