The road back to the inn.
...What the hell was that?
Gunther couldn’t shake the foul sensation. That man had clearly been “watching” him. It hadn’t been a fleeting, accidental glance — it was sustained, deliberate surveillance. In those eyes there had been a cold, sticky malice that could not be dismissed as momentary delusion or excess paranoia. That gaze had purpose. Or hidden intent.
“Me? But why?”
There was no reason for such attention. Frowning, Gunther began reconstructing his actions in the library step by step.
Hunting hidden rewards? No. It was unlikely someone would stare at you like that just because you slipped love notes onto strangers’ tables and ran away.
Then because of the forbidden books? That sounded more plausible — but still not quite right. The library was full of scholars searching for works disliked by Luthien. There were books far more radical and extreme than what he had been reading.
“Did the commotion in the Lower City yesterday attract flies?”
That, too, sounded unconvincing. In the end, Night Raven didn’t operate that sloppily. They would have erased all traces and connections. They wouldn’t recklessly endanger a promising rookie candidate.
“...And if it were Luthien’s people, they’d have attacked me on the spot.”
Gunther suddenly stopped and scanned his surroundings. A deserted alleyway. If Luthien had truly identified him and decided to eliminate him, this secluded location would be far more suitable than a library packed with guards and magical surveillance devices.
...In truth, something else was even stranger.
“‘Serpent’s Nest’ didn’t react.”
Even when that man stood right before him, Gunther had felt absolutely nothing.
Though still at 1st hierarchy, stat-wise Gunther was already comparable to an average 2nd. With skill bonuses factored in, his detection ability should surpass 3rd hierarchy. The fact that someone had so cleanly deceived his perception meant only one thing: that had been an assassin of at least 4th hierarchy.
And 4th hierarchy were not ordinary fighters. They were usually named supporting characters. No matter how hard Gunther searched his memory of Seiran Library events, he recalled no such encounter with a high-level assassin.
...At least not in the official storyline.
He resumed walking slowly, biting his lip. That sticky feeling of alienness crawled up the back of his neck.
“Again.”
The same sensation he’d felt when the “Protagonist” never appeared. That nauseating awareness that something had clearly gone wrong — but without understanding either the cause or the essence.
“Sure, there’s a chance this is nothing and I’m overthinking it, but...”
His chest felt heavy. As if trying to shake off the lingering chill from his back, he quickened his pace toward home.
— Hey!
— ......?
Right then, someone called out.
— Hey, young man!
Gunther instinctively turned toward the voice — and, rarely, found himself at a loss.
“What... what is this...?”
The first thing he saw was a tent embroidered with elaborate geometric patterns. Then a strange woman standing before it, waving her arms energetically.
Thick violet hair spilled out from beneath a pointed hat. Her face was peculiar — at once mature and childishly innocent, making her age impossible to determine. Crooked, sharp-toed boots protruded from beneath her long cloak.
“...A witch? A fortune-teller?”
No other words fit. The woman cheerfully shouted:
— Want to know what your future holds?! Let’s take a look at the orbit of your destiny!
Gunther narrowed his eyes. Fortune-telling, tarot, prophecy. Even back on Earth, he had never resorted to such things. He’d been too busy surviving to waste money on seers. More importantly — he saw no point.
“My entire life has been a chain of misfortune. What’s there to look at?”
If they were real seers, they’d say unpleasant things. If frauds, they’d feed him sweet nonsense.
Yet today, for the first time, he found himself halting before a “fortune-teller’s stall.”
— You saw something unusual, didn’t you?
The witch smiled kindly.
***
Inside the tent, it was dark and cramped. The air smelled faintly of incense. An old carpet with intricate patterns covered the floor. On the table — a crystal ball and a stack of faded tarot cards. Everything looked painfully typical. Gunther himself couldn’t believe he was sitting there, but he decided to satisfy his curiosity first.
— So. How did you know?
The witch tilted her head.
— Know what?
— That I saw something.
— Ah, that? Just a line to hook customers. You looked like you’d seen a ghost.
Gunther wasn’t naïve enough to take that at face value. ...But he was perceptive enough to understand that even if he pressed further, he wouldn’t get an answer. He exhaled shortly.
— Damn. What a day.
The witch smiled softly.
— I know. You have too many questions. But I can reveal only one thing. Would you like to hear at least that?
— ......
Gunther leaned his head back irritably.
— And what can you reveal?
— The future. From the immediate to what lies a little further.
— Be specific.
— Today. One month from now. And what comes after.
Gunther suppressed a nervous chuckle and glanced outside the tent. The sky was beginning to brighten.
“...Strange.”
Normally, he would not have played along with such nonsense. Even if he chose not to be rude, he would at least attempt to seize the initiative and extract information.
But somehow — willingly or not — Gunther found himself following the witch’s flow. His intuition rang like an alarm bell: if he resisted this strange current, he would be the one to lose.
— Fine. Suppose I let you read my fortune. How much?
— It’s fine. Already paid.
The witch delivered another unexpected answer.
— ...Already paid?
— Yes. You only need to choose.
Shrrrk!
The cards spread across the table. A worn deck. The moment his gaze fell on their intricate backs, Gunther found himself thinking:
“...They’re probably different from Earth’s tarot.”
Though he barely understood Earth’s tarot either. The witch gestured gently to the fan of cards.
— Draw three.
Gunther acted carefully, masking how seriously he was taking this.
The first card. A man standing alone on barren land. In his hand, a branch heavy with golden fruit. At first glance — a good card.
— Today you will receive what you need most.
— ...Need most? And what is that?
— Next.
Gunther looked at her, expecting explanation, but she simply nodded.
— Hurry~.
The second card. A man holding a stack of black papers in his left hand and a shining golden key in the other. Blinding light poured through the window he faced.
— Oh-ho?
— ...And now?
— You will incur a debt you did not desire.
Debt. The word Gunther hated most. He grimaced.
— But what you receive in return will be extraordinarily sweet. So sweet that the burden of repayment will fade away.
— ......?
— Next.
The final card. A dark three-way crossroads. A gigantic eyeball hovered in the night sky above. Before it stood a figure holding a lantern, hesitating.
— Hm-m, soon something dirty and clingy will attach itself to you. Better not try to handle it alone.
— ...Why are you giving advice this time?
— My right. I’ll give it if I want.
Before he could ask more, the witch swept her hand over the three cards. At that moment, the crystal ball pulsed, emitting a deep blue-black light.
— !
Gunther’s hand reflexively went to his waist. No matter how great a mage, at such short distance they were no match for a warrior. At the slightest suspicious movement, he was ready to activate “Eyes of the Tyrant” and strike. His body, creaking under potion aftereffects, was still capable of a swift slash to take her head.
However—
[Resistance to mental contamination failed]
A vast consciousness gently envelops you. It is warm, like the light of ancient stars, and does not wish for your destruction.
Gunther’s hand released the sword on its own. From fingertips to shoulders, muscles that had been at peak tension relaxed without permission. A strange sensation — as if part of his body had detached from him.
“...What is this?”
The question flickered briefly — then dissolved.
— Listen carefully.
The witch met his gaze gently.
— With my power, I can weave a fragment of luck into one of these three moments.
Her voice remained soft. But beneath it ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) echoed something deeper. Heavier.
— Choose wisely. This gift is given only once.
— ......
Gunther did not answer. He simply stared at the cards, light dizziness creeping in.
An absurd story. Reading the future from cards and infusing it with luck. Yet beneath the absurdity seeped an undeniable certainty.
The man with golden fruit. The man with papers and key. The figure at the crossroads.
His deliberation was brief.
— ...Today.
— I knew it.
The witch nodded and laughed quietly. She closed her eyes and brushed her fingertips lightly across the cards. The candle flame trembled in windless air.
— Now let’s see where today’s luck will lead you.
.
.
.
[“◇” breathes life into your time]
As his consciousness drifted into emptiness, the witch’s final words faded like wind-blown ash.
“...On the day all my prophecies come true, we shall meet again...”
***
— Just got back?
At the familiar voice, Gunther blinked. His blurred vision gradually sharpened.
— Why are you standing there like a post? You brat, you disappear without saying where and don’t even come back at night.
Ryan grumbled, clapping him on the shoulder. His torso was damp with sweat. He must have just returned from pre-dawn training. Gunther looked around. He stood before his room door. Morning light flooded the corridor.
— Ryan. Did I just arrive?
— Were you drinking? Doesn’t smell like booze... You bastard! If you’re going to drink, you should invite me, traitor!
— No... forget it.
Ryan tilted his head but shrugged it off.
— By the way, this is weird. I suddenly feel stronger. My body’s light, and techniques just flow!
Sure enough, a message appeared before Gunther.
[Hidden potential of party member Ryan Parker awakens: Strength +1, Endurance +1]
Thanks to his rare talent, he was growing faster than expected. Gunther only shook his head.
— Train harder. This world is full of monsters.
— ...Huh?
There was no way to explain. With a sigh, Gunther pushed the door open and entered.
— ......
He immediately stepped back out.
— Did you go into my room?
— Huh? No. Why would I?
Ryan frowned and peered inside. Soon confusion crossed his face too.
— What the hell is that?
Shards of glass. The glass marble Gunther had left on the table — the gift from the child he rescued — was completely destroyed. But not shattered in the usual way. No fragments remained. Instead, fine translucent dust coated the floor, as if it had quietly disintegrated under some incomprehensible force. No signs of impact. No scattered pieces.
In that moment, Gunther understood.
— ...Payment for the reading.
— What?
— Get out. I need sleep.
— Huh?
After pushing out the bewildered Ryan, Gunther sat on the edge of the bed. Exhaustion washed over him.
— ...Damn.
It truly had been a long day. And for someone suffering potion aftereffects, it felt even longer. Whatever else, he needed sleep first. Then think.
His eyes slowly closed.
.
.
.
Ding!
[Calculation of Clear Rank for Act 1, Chapter 2 completed]
[You have perfectly executed the scenario, flawlessly achieving all objectives. Due to your outstanding performance, additional deliberation was required to assign rewards. Based on these results, current rewards are being adjusted... ##########]
[※ Warning: System interference detected]
Due to interference by a transcendent entity, the reward table has been elevated to the higher system tier. Previous calculations invalidated. Adjusted rewards will be issued.
[Expected number of deaths: 7, Actual number of deaths: 1]
[Clear Rank: EX]
