Noir stood a few meters away. Silent. Still.
He scanned their formation:
Healer at the rear.
Two Arbalest flanking left and right.
Bagi frontliner, built like a wall.
Pagan close support, likely a debuffer.
Swordsman—probably the leader—centered.
They were organized. Veterans of the early zones. Average level: 2. Higher than most. Lower than him.
One archer scoffed. "What now, lone wolf? Gonna cry over your little Syph?"
"Should've brought friends, loser," the Bagi grunted, cracking his knuckles.
The swordsman stepped forward, smirking. "Walk away before this gets embarrassing."
Noir didn't respond. His eyes were already calculating.
"Not talkative, huh?" the Pagan sneered. "Then die quietly."
Noir took one step back.
The group tensed—but then relaxed slightly.
"He's backing off," one of the archers muttered. "Smart."
The swordsman smirked. "Yeah, run along, shadow boy."
But Noir wasn't retreating.
He vanished.
—Backstab!—
He reappeared behind the healer—dagger to the spine, second blade across the throat.
[CRITICAL HIT – 250% Weapon Damage]
[Player Kill Registered – No EXP Gained]
[Red Name: You are now marked. 1/3 Redemption Kills Required]
"WHAT THE—!" the Bagi turned too late.
His hammer slammed into the ground—Noir had already rolled aside, slashing across the tank's ribs.
The Pagan raised his staff. "Hexbind!"
A violet sigil flared beneath Noir's feet.
[DEBUFF: Rooted – Movement Disabled for 3 seconds]
"Pin him!" the swordsman barked.
Both arbalest fired.
Thwip—Thwip!
One arrow grazed Noir's arm.
[–22 HP]
The second embedded in his shoulder.
[–28 HP]
He winced, still rooted.
"Silence Pulse!" the Pagan shouted.
A wave of dark energy hit him.
[DEBUFF: Silence – Skills Disabled for 4 seconds]
"Keep him locked!" the swordsman ordered. "Bagi, go!"
The tank charged, hammer glowing.
"Crater Smash!"
The ground erupted beneath Noir. He was thrown back, crashing into a root.
[STUNNED – 2 seconds]
[–31 HP]
His screen blurred. HP dipped below 40%.
I might not make it out of this one…
He rolled, popped a potion mid-motion, and activated Swift Step, blinking behind the Pagan.
Slash—stab—twist.
[Player Kill Registered – No EXP Gained]
The Bagi roared. "You little—!"
Noir ducked under a hammer swing and countered with Critical Dash Slash.
His body blurred forward—
1, 2, 3—slashes across the Bagi's chest
4, 5—up his arm
6—across the throat
[Three Critical Hits Landed – x2.5 Damage]
The tank dropped to his knees.
[Player Kill Registered – No EXP Gained]
"Shit—he's still moving!" one arbalest shouted.
The other activated Piercing Shot—it hit Noir in the side.
[–34 HP]
He staggered, bleeding.
"Volley Trap!" the second arbalest shouted.
Arrows rained down in a wide arc. Noir dashed through, taking two hits.
[–18 HP]
[–26 HP]
He flicked a dagger mid-sprint—straight into the first arbalest's neck.
[Player Kill Registered – No EXP Gained]
The second turned to run.
—Swift Step!—
Noir blurred forward and drove both blades into the spine.
[Player Kill Registered – No EXP Gained]
Only the swordsman remained.
He stood trembling, sword raised. "I-I didn't even hit you…"
Noir walked toward him, slow and steady.
"You don't have to—" the man stammered. "You win, okay? I surrender—!"
Noir didn't stop.
Steel met flesh.
[Player Kill Registered – No EXP Gained]
[Red Name: 2/3 Redemption Kills Remaining]
[System Notice: Red Name Status – You need 1 more Red Name kill to revert to Neutral]
Six bodies. No fanfare. Just silence.
Noir stood in the clearing, bloodied, breathing hard. His cloak was torn. His daggers dripped red pixels.
He wasn't invincible.
But he was still standing.
The Syph stood nearby—glowing blue skin pulsing, golden aura flickering in the rain. Its violet eyes locked onto Noir, unblinking.
Noir wiped blood from his lip, breathing steady but shallow. His cloak was torn. His health bar hovered just above danger.
He glanced at the creature and muttered, "Back to business."
He dashed forward.
The Syph shrieked and lunged, limbs jagged and twitching.
—Swift Step!
Noir blinked to the side, narrowly avoiding a swipe.
He countered with Backstab, blinking behind it—dagger flashing.
[CRITICAL HIT – 250% Weapon Damage]
But the Syph reacted instantly.
[SKILL: Arc Pulse]
A burst of golden energy exploded from its body, throwing Noir back.
[–32 HP]
He rolled, coughing, and popped a potion—but the Syph was already on him.
[SKILL: Venom Lash]
A whip-like limb struck his leg.
[DEBUFF: Slow – Movement Speed -40% for 5 seconds]
"Tch—"
He tried to dodge, but the Syph blinked again.
[SKILL: Echo Blink]
It reappeared behind him and slashed.
[–27 HP]
Noir staggered, bleeding.
He activated Critical Dash Slash.
His body blurred forward—
1, 2, 3—slashes across its side
4, 5—up its back
6—straight through its glowing mask-like face
[Three Critical Hits Landed – x2.5 Damage]
The Syph shrieked, body flickering violently.
Noir didn't stop.
One final strike—clean, fast—severed its head.
[Syph Defeated – EXP Multiplier +7 Days Earned]
[Loot: Silver Coins +190 | Syph Tendon x1 | Crystallized Bone x2 | Rare Material: Syph Eye x1]
[Level Up: Level 3 – Assassin Class | +5 Stat Points]
Noir dropped to one knee, panting.
That one had been close.
He opened his stat window but didn't assign the new points. Not here. Not now.
He turned from the Syph's remains and vanished into the woods—one red-name kill away from redemption.
Sheathing his blades, he muttered, "I'm done hunting Syph for now. Time to focus on the quest."
He pulled out the crumpled, blurry map Ray had given him back in Seldom. Squinting at the faded ink, he traced his location and spotted the faint marker: the hidden village.
He was close. Maybe a few more kilometers.
"I'm super close already," Noir murmured. "I can feel it."
He ventured deeper into the forest, each step taking him further from the chaos of players and system events—and deeper into something older.
The rain started lightly. Then built into a steady, cold pour.
Eventually, he reached it.
A quiet village, half-swallowed by the forest. Rain fell in steady sheets over moss-covered rooftops. Crooked lamp posts flickered along narrow dirt paths, casting long shadows through the mist. The air was thick with damp earth and silence.
Noir stepped through the gates, his boots sinking slightly into the muddy path.
He didn't know what he expected from this place. Answers, maybe. Or just a direction. But the silence of the village felt heavier than the rain.
He approached the nearest NPC—an old woman hunched beneath a shawl, her eyes cloudy but alert.
"Do you know anything about a poison dagger? Venom Core? Venom Sap?"
She blinked at him, confused. "We don't deal in poisons here, stranger. Try somewhere darker."
He frowned. "Tch."
Disappointed, he wandered deeper into the village. The alleys were narrow, the buildings close and quiet. Then he spotted a weathered sign swinging in the rain:
Bole's Mug & Flame.
The warmth of the pub wrapped around him as Noir stepped inside, rain dripping from his cloak. Firelight flickered across wooden beams. A faded guild banner hung above the hearth, and a rusted blade rested on the wall behind the bar.
He took a seat near the corner, away from the few scattered patrons.
A waitress approached—silver hair messy, eyes sharp despite her tired expression.
"What'll it be?" she asked, voice flat.
"Something hot."
Minutes later, a steaming bowl of beef stew and a dark drink landed in front of him. The aroma hit hard—herbs, pepper, slow-cooked meat. He took a bite and blinked.
"…This tastes real."
The broth warmed his chest. The meat melted on his tongue. The drink—bitter, earthy, slightly smoky—cut through the chill in his bones.
For a moment, he forgot he was in a game.
Then, quietly, he leaned forward. "I'm looking for someone. A retired assassin. Something about crafting poison daggers."
The waitress paused, her expression tightening. "That's not something people ask about around here."
"I'm not most people."
She crossed her arms. "You think just because you're quiet and brooding, I'm gonna spill secrets to a stranger?"
Noir didn't flinch. "I'm not here to cause trouble. Just need a name. A direction."
She studied him for a moment, then glanced around the room. Her voice dropped to a whisper.
"Even if I knew someone like that, I wouldn't say it out loud. Not with ears in every corner."
"I'm not asking for much. Just a lead."
A long pause. Then, reluctantly, she sighed.
"There's a guy. Keeps to himself. No one talks to him. They say he used to be an assassin. Lives at the edge of the village."
Noir stayed silent, watching her.
"You'll know the place when you see it. Real old. Looks abandoned. Just knock twice… and say 'Oblo.'"
"…Oblo?"
She nodded. "That's the password. But don't say I sent you."
Noir finished his food, dropped a few silver coins on the table, and stood without a word.
The warmth of the pub faded behind him as he stepped back into the rain, the waitress's warning still echoing in his mind.
Time to find that house.