When Vincent arrived at the Novice Center, the place was already packed with Novice Origin Warriors accepting missions from the mission board. The air buzzed with excitement and nervous energy as warriors from various races crowded around the boards, their voices creating a constant murmur throughout the hall.
Aside from the regular board, he noticed a smaller one titled Blackbite Rat Labyrinth, marked with ‘New’ beside it, indicating it was the mission board for the newly discovered labyrinth. As expected, there were plenty of missions listed, their reward amounts catching the eye of every passing warrior.
Next to the mission board stood a group of novice warriors from various races, holding a large plaque that read ‘recruiting party members,’ with several Novice Origin Warriors queuing up to form teams. The line stretched across the floor, each warrior hoping to find compatible teammates.
He spotted a Vyrmin male, about the height of a middle schooler, clad in bronze armor that gleamed under the center’s lights, shouting, “We need someone who can deal area damage! We’ve already got someone with healing talent! Join us!”
His high-pitched voice carried across the room, drawing curious glances from passing warriors.
Surprisingly, there was also a group of humans. Although they wore masks, he could tell from their fair skin and long, delicate fingernails that some were women.
Their masks ranged from elaborate designs to simple coverings, each hiding their true identities from the world.
As Vincent walked closer to inspect the available missions, he overheard a young woman’s voice from behind a clown-faced mask, her words carrying a hint of worry.
“Have you still not contacted Dmitri?” she asked, fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve.
“Shh. It’s Macho. Call him by his alias,” a male voice beneath a half-smiling joker mask corrected, glancing around nervously to ensure no one had overheard the slip.
“Oh, right. I’m sorry. I’m still getting used to it.” Her shoulders slumped slightly in embarrassment.
“It’s fine. Just be careful next time. The Origin World is nothing like our own. We have to stay cautious; this place is full of uncertainty. If Macho doesn’t show up in five minutes, we should just recruit someone from here.”
The man’s voice carried the weight of experience, despite his obvious youth.
Dmitri?
Even though the name reminded him of his schoolmate, he doubted they were the same person. The Origin World was vast, after all, and names could be coincidental.
Vincent accepted five Tier 1 (5 stars) missions, his fingers moving efficiently across the board. Since the new labyrinth was labeled Tier 2, he knew it would be filled with peak Tier 1 primals.
Just as he finished, he heard heavy footsteps approaching from behind, followed by a hoarse voice that grated on his nerves.
“Hey, you with the ugly emerald mask!”
Vincent didn’t turn around right away but glanced around, looking for anyone else wearing a similar mask. When he saw no one, he realized the voice was directed at him. Before he could react, the voice called out again, more aggressive this time.
“Hey, are you deaf?!”
A hand reached for his shoulder, but before it could make contact, Vincent spun around with practiced ease, grabbed the arm, twisted it slightly, and pulled, forcing the figure to stumble forward, yelping in surprise. The movement was fluid, almost casual, but contained unmistakable power.
“Ow, ow! My hand! Let go of my hand!”
The figure demanding release turned out to be a Boarman—bipedal, covered in thick brown fur, with sharp tusks that gleamed dangerously. This one was smaller than the two other Boarmen standing nearby, including one towering almost 7-ft tall in height and wearing heavy armor that clinked with each movement.
The Boarman whose arm Vincent held yelled again, his voice rising in pitch, “Let go of my arm! Brother, help me!”
The larger Boarman, his voice tinged with anger and threat, commanded, “Kid, let go of my little brother now!”
His massive frame tensed, ready for conflict.
“You want me to let him go?” Vincent thought, grinning beneath his mask. Then, with a casual push that belied its force, he sent the smaller Boarman stumbling and rolling across the floor, drawing the attention of those nearby. The spectacle caused a ripple of whispers through the crowd.
“Ugh!”
“Buhik!” the muscular Boarman cried out, rushing to help his younger brother stand.
“Are you alright?”
His concerned tone contrasted sharply with his intimidating appearance.
With his brother’s help, Buhik stood up and glared at Vincent, hatred burning in his small eyes.
Vincent, still grinning behind his mask, raised his hands in mock apology.
“Oops. Your brother told me to let him go, so I did. Don’t blame me.”
His voice dripped with sarcasm.
“You!” the two brothers growled, glaring at him with undisguised fury.
Unperturbed, Vincent asked, “What do you guys want from me, anyway?”
He maintained his relaxed posture, though his senses remained alert.
From the way Buhik had addressed him, Vincent knew they had no good intentions. He wasn’t one to look for trouble, but he also wouldn’t shy away from it when it found him.
The larger Boarman, Burak, spoke with a sneer that twisted his tusked face.
“I was going to be nice, but I’ve changed my mind. Hand over the missions you just accepted.”
Vincent finally understood their motive—the rewards from the missions he took must have attracted their greed. He might have considered negotiating if they’d shown any respect, but their hostile approach left no room for that.
“What if I refuse?” Vincent asked calmly, his voice carrying an edge of steel.
Burak snorted, his nostrils flaring.
“Then I’ll tell you you’re stupid if you think you can survive in this world after offending me!”
He revealed his peak Tier 1 strength, trying to intimidate Vincent with mental pressure, the air growing thick with tension.
But before Burak could fully exert his influence, a sharp snort pierced the air, disrupting his focus. He staggered back, coughing up blood, his face contorting in shock and pain.
“Cough!”
“Brother!”
“Leader!”
Burak’s companions rushed to his side, supporting him as they stared at Vincent, who remained calm and unmoved. Fear and anger churned in their hearts, their eyes wide with disbelief.
Who is this guy? They wondered, their thoughts practically visible on their faces.
Vincent stayed silent, merely watching them. He had spent the previous night experimenting with his clairvoyance skill and discovered that channeling chaos energy into a mental pressure attack greatly boosted his mental attributes.
The discovery had opened new possibilities for his combat style.
Among all his attributes, his mental capacity was the highest. By combining this with his chaos energy, he could exert a Tier 2 (1 star) mental pressure, though it consumed a significant amount of energy. He hadn’t even tapped into his C-rank talent, Origin Enhancement, which could potentially make his attacks even stronger.
Though impressed by his own abilities, Vincent heeded Sophie’s advice: “Avoid using your Primal Energy as much as possible. If you must, be discreet.”
The words echoed in his mind like a constant reminder.
Thanks to her, he had developed a technique where no one could detect that he was using chaos energy in his mental pressure attacks. The subtlety of his power made it all the more effective.
Burak, now pale and shaking slightly, asked, “W-Who are you?”
“You don’t have the right to know my name. Get lost.” Vincent’s dismissal was absolute.
As much as they hated him, Burak and his group realized they were no match for him.
“This isn’t over. We’ll meet again!” Burak snarled, though his voice trembled slightly.
“Let’s go!” they hurried off, tails between their legs, their retreat watched by curious onlookers.
I just got back… and I’m already dealing with idiots. I need to get stronger and leave this place. These third-rate villains are getting old, Vincent thought, leaving the Novice Center to head to the new labyrinth.
The encounter had barely raised his heart rate.
Before he could get far, a woman’s voice called out to him, clear and determined.
“Wait, mister!”
Great… another one. Can’t I have a peaceful day?
He suppressed a sigh of frustration.
He turned to see the woman with the clown-faced mask from earlier, flanked by her companions. Their masks caught the light, creating an almost theatrical scene.
Curious, but weary, he responded, “Yes?”
Without hesitation, the woman asked, “Would you like to join our party? We’re also heading to the Blackbite Rat Labyrinth.”
Her voice carried a note of hope, though her mask hid her expression.
★ Please, send me your Golden Tickets! Thanks fam!
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