002 Nice Guy

  Ba the good old days of Lost Legends Online, I had my fair share of dealing with annoying SOBs.

  From NPCs desigo be on fodder with an attitude problem to Pyers who treated trolling like a sacred calling, I had seen—and tolerated—it all. The kind of people who blocked doorways in dungeons just to waste your time, deliberately trained mobs onto your party, or, my personal favorite, spammed trade requests in the middle of a boss fight.

  So, the question was, how should I deal with this situation?

  The answer? Smartly.

  See, I was a Nice Guy. Not the kind who expected rewards for basic decy, but the kind who knew when to keep his cool and not antagonize idiots. The Young Master Zhao standing before me? He was clearly one of those "I’m rich, therefore I’m important" types.

  Also, he was very, very drunk.

  “Do you have rocks for eyes, peasant?!” Zhao slurred, his face twisting in exaggerated e. “Or maybe your mother dropped you on your head as a child?! That would expin a lot, hahaha!”

  His courtesans giggled from the baly above, fanning themselves dramatically, as if watg a theater performance.

  “Maybe he’s mute?” one of them teased.

  Zhao gasped, as if struck by diviion. “Ohhhh, that makes so much sense! A dumb, mute, blind beggar who dares walk into my inn?!” He jabbed a fi my chest, missing by a few inches because his depth perception was long gone. “What, you think just ‘cause you wear fancy robes, you’re better than me?!”

  I blieically, I wasn’t even wearing my best gear right now.

  He leaned in, breath reeking of stale wine. “You should be lig the dirt off my boots for the privilege of breathing the same air as me!”

  Oh, this guy was a textbook case.

  Still, I remained cool as a cucumber, my expression perfectly poker-faced.

  I’d dealt with worse in-game chat, but this was nothing pared to the time a level 3 newbie screamed at me in all caps for ninja looting a sword I didn’t even pick up.

  o stoop to Zhao’s level.

  o lose my temper.

  But that didn’t mean I wasn’t already calg my move.

  Young Master Zhao was really going for it now.

  “You useless, brainless, lowborn slug!” he spat, wobbling slightly as he poi me. “Do you even uand who you’re speaking to?! I could have yed through the streets like a dog and no one would bat an eye! In fact—” he hiccupped, nearly tipping over before catg himself on a nearby table—“I should have you whipped! No—flogged! Publicly! Maybe then you’ll learn some respect!”

  I resisted the urge to sigh. Lost Legends Online had prepared me well for situations like these. Dealing with drunken noble NPCs ractically a side quest category of its own.

  Still, as I stood there, I couldn’t help but notiething odd—the fact that I uood every single word he was saying.

  The nguage these people spoke wasn’t Mandarin, but it was close—like a dialect from some parallel version of a. A strange, magical uandi me prehend and even respond fluently, as if I had spoken it all my life. Probably the same magic that ensured I wouldn’t sound like a babbling fool wheually o read something.

  I pushed the idle thought to the bay mind. Bigger priorities right now.

  Young Master Zhao was still ranting, his wrowing less coherent with each passing sed. His face had taken on a distinct reddish hue, his breath practically fmmable from all the alcohol.

  It was time to this up before he did something stupid.

  I let my expression soften into something reassuri unreadable. Then, in a voice just friendly enough to throw him off, I dipped my head slightly.

  “My si apologies, Young Master Zhao,” I said. “It was never my iion to offend you.”

  The moment I said those words, the table of bystanders who had been waiting for a fight visibly defted. The courtesans watg from above tilted their heads in fusion. Zhao himself blinked, momentarily thrown off by the ck of resistance.

  I wasn’t groveling. I wasn’t defying him either. Just a well-pced, ral apology—calm, measured, and frustratingly difficult to escate.

  I took a subtle step forward, positioning myself within reach.

  Then, with perfectly casual body nguage, I pced a hand on Zhao’s shoulder, my grip light but deliberate. “It seems the wine has been unkind to you, Young Master,” I mented, shaking my head as if I were genuinely ed. “Perhaps you should rest. It wouldn’t do to exhaust yourself before the festival tomorrow.”

  As I spoke, I pulled him in slightly, like a friendly gesture between acquaintances. And while doing so, I activated one of my less favored skills—

  Divine Word: Rest.

  It wasn’t a fshy move. It wasn’t even a spell I used often. The Divine Word skill series was typically associated with priests and monks, and while Padins had access to it, I had always focused more on bat abilities.

  Still, I knew enough.

  A faint golden light shimmered for half a sed before fading, unnoticed by the already intoxicated Zhao. His eyelids drooped. His posture slumped. And then—

  Thud.

  He crumpled to his knees, eyes rolling back as he fell pletely unscious.

  The round man—who I assumed was his steward—rushed forward in a panic. “Young Master Zhao!”

  I reached out, grabbing Zhao by the arm before he could hit the floor face-first, and carefully handed him over to his steward. “The Young Master may have had too much to drink,” I said helpfully. “Best to get him to a proper bed.”

  The steward stared at me, uain, before quickly nodding. “Y-Yes! Of course! Many thanks, huest!”

  And just like that, the situation resolved itself—without a fight, without unnecessary drama, and most importantly, without me making an enemy of some drunk noble idiot with a fragile ego.

  Mission Aplished.

  I stepped out of the inn, inhaling deeply as the cool night air repced the stench of stale ale and self-importalement.

  Barely a day in this world, and I had already gotten into a frontation. Was this a record? If this world followed Lost Legends Online logic, then I robably halfway tering a major questline already.

  Still, I shook my head, pushing the thought aside. There was no use dwelling on it. Young Master Zhao was dealt with, and I had more pressing matters to focus on—like figuring out how to survive in this unfamiliar world.

  With that in mind, I began to stroll through the city, taking in my surroundings.

  Despite the te hour, the city was far from asleep. People bustled about, their energy subdued but still present, like embers glowing softly in the dark. I could tell they were preparing for tomorrow’s festival, w tirelessly even as exhaustion weighed on their shoulders.

  The streets were lined with banners of deep gold and crimson, embroidered with swirling calligraphy I reized but couldn’t quite decipher—likely blessings for prosperity and fortune. Long silk streamers fluttered zily in the breeze, some strung with small nterns, casting a soft glow along the roads.

  Vendors and craftsmen worked te into the night, setting up stalls and booths in preparation for the crowds that would flood the streets tomorrow. Some adjusted wooden signboards, their inked characters bold and fident, while others carefully arranged colorful tris, inse, and embroidered fabrics to entice festival-goers.

  From a nearby alley, I overheard a grizzled mert haggling with a carpenter over the price of a makeshift stall.

  “I don’t care if you used the fi lumber from the Western Province, Old Liu! This thing still wobbles!”

  “Hah! Wobbles, my foot! That’s just the wind! My craftsmanship is fwless, I tell you! You want to sell yar figuriomorrow or not? Pay up!”

  Further ahead, a group of women, possibly tea house workers or performers, whispered among themselves excitedly.

  “I heard the governor himself will attend the festival this year!”

  “Really? And they say Young Master Lu of the Seven Grand s will be there, too!”

  “Oh, imagine if we catch his eye…”

  A group of children, clearly past their bedtime, ran past me, waving small wooden swords and pretending to be great heroes.

  “Tomorrow, I’m going to the dueling stage!” one of them announced proudly. “I bet the warriors will be s!”

  “I heard a sirike from a top-tier cultivator split the ground open!” another added, swinging his toy sword dramatically.

  I smirked slightly. Kids and their wild imaginations.

  Still, the more I listehe more pieces of this world fell into pce. It was a city alive with purpose, steeped in tradition, and filled with excitement for the days to e.

  Tomorrow would be a big day.

  For the city.

  And for me.

  I stood at the highest point of Yellon City, overlooking the tless motes of light scattered below like stars fallen to earth. Lanterns flickered gently in the breeze, lining the winding streets where merts and craftsmen still toiled in preparation for tomorrow’s festival. From here, the city seemed serene, as if all the noise and chaos were just distant echoes carried by the wind.

  It was a hell of a view.

  But I wasn’t up here to admire the sery.

  I still had no idea how to exge my gold for this world’s local currency. But at least I didn’t need food or sleep. That was one of the perks of being Level 275—the max level in Lost Legends Online. In the game’s lore, once a character surpassed Level 250, they were sidered demi-gods, existing beyond mortal straints. They needed only a fra of rest and sustenanpared to ordinary humans.

  At least that’s a silver lining, I mused.

  I wasn’t sure how long I could go before I felt the o eat or sleep, but for now, it wasn’t a priority.

  Instead, I focused on something else—my body.

  I curled and uncurled my fingers, flexing my hands as I felt the tent power withi was… strange. My movements weren’t just enhahey were unnaturally refined. I somehow kly how to move, how to fight, how to wield a sword as if it were aension of my body.

  It was more than just raw strength or speed.

  It was muscle memory.

  Not my own, but that of my game character.

  Was this some kind of simuted instinct carried over from the game? Or was it magic? Either way, it made me dangerously capable.

  With that in mind, I decided to put it to the test.

  I took a breath, crouched slightly—

  And jumped.

  Testing the Limits.

  My body soared through the air, clearing the rooftop gap with effortless grace. I nded smoothly, rolling once before immediately kig off into another jump. It felt natural, like sed nature, even though I had never done parkour a day in my life.

  My Dexterity stat was never my highest, I thought, leaping to another roof. But it was still superhuman enough.

  Jumping across rooftops, I gradually made my way south, where the city’s buildings grew less dense. After a few minutes, I found myself in a desote park, led within the quieter outskirts of Yellon City. The area was mostly abandoned, save for a few scattered trees and patches of rown stohways.

  Perfect.

  Here, I could finally take stoy physical abilities without interruptions.

  Divine Sense: Active

  But first—a precaution.

  I activated Divine Sense, one of my dete skills. In the game, it typically maed as red dots on the mini-map, highlighting any hostile entities nearby. Acc to the fvor text, it was especially potent against celestials, fiends, and undead, sometimes even allowio seheir iions.

  I closed my eyes, letting the skill expand outward.

  …Nothing.

  No hostile preseno sneaky assassins lurking in the shadows. No demonic ambush waiting for me to lower my guard.

  Good.

  That meant I could safely begin my experiments.

  With a smirk, I stretched my limbs, rolling my shoulders as anticipation thrummed through me.

  Time to see just how strong I really am.