A Gamer's Guide To Beating The Tutorial

“Hey Kitty!”

I jerk out of a state I hope was meditation. Who—huh? Oh! Standing up, I wave at Moleman as he approaches on his simple bike. “What took you so long, man? I thought I was going to fall asleep!”

Stopping a pace or two away, Moleman folds out the bike’s leg to park it. “Sorry, it was a bit harder than I expected to shake people off. After the first hour or so, people wanted to party, not search for some common crook, so I had to pull the old ‘he may have betrayed me but he’s still my friend, I need to make sure he’s okay’ schtick, which worked.”

Walking up to him, I lean down to get a better look at his bike. More specifically, at a motor-looking thick attached to the back wheel, with a wire or something leading to the left front handlebar. “What’s this thing?”

“Oh, that?” Moleman says. “Well, it’s just a simple little thing…” But I can hear the pride in his voice, so I nod at him to continue. “Heh, yeah, I met up with the guy who designed the bike originally, you know, the guy from the Africa server? He actually didn’t speak English, but he did speak Afrikaans, and I speak German, which is pretty similar, so… Anyway, we talked a bit, and I told him about my idea for a magic-fueled motor. I’ve been trying to pitch it to the various kings and nobles I’ve met so far, but they fear the possibility of upsetting the gods. Not this guy, though. No, heh, he was totally on board!” Smiling broadly, Moleman pats his bike. “With this, you’ll be able to keep biking for hours on end without issue! Neat, huh?”

I give him a teasing look. “Nerd.” But the smile on my face betrays my true feelings of admiration. “Do you really want to industrialize Purgatory that badly?”

He hums a little. “A bit, yeah. If it can save lives, then… absolutely.”

We smile at each other for a few more seconds. Then, standing back up, I ask him, “So, did you bring the goods?”

“I certainly did,” Moleman says, his face turning mischievous. “And did you…?”

I nod at him. “Indeed. See, there’s a hill right over here, and if you climb to the top…” He knows exactly what I mean, and that’s why I don’t need to say anything else. We head to the hill, climb it to the top, and spend a few minutes squinting at the hypothetical south. “We should be high enough to see the fireworks. Right?”

“Probably,” Moleman concurs lightly.

I shrug. “Eh, good enough.”

With the spot chosen, Moleman removes a blanket from his inventory, having me grab one edge while he takes the other, letting us spread it perfectly across the ground. And then plates, and cutlery, and cups, and a pitcher of water, and all that sort of stuff…

As I place the plates properly, I lightly ask, “So, what was the sentence?”

“Death,” Moleman replies in the same tone. He puts a bundle of grape-like fruits on a plate. “I didn’t ask about the method, but they would probably have gone with beheading for the sake of simplicity.”

“Mmh,” I hum. “Public?”

“Unlikely,” he replies.

He looks at me. I look back at him.

We burst out laughing. It takes a couple of minutes for us to gather our wits again, at which point my stomach is hurting and Moleman’s wiping his eyes. Without waiting for him to calm down fully, I slip my handkerchief out of my inventory and hand it to him. The sight of it makes him chuckle. Once he’s wiped his tears, he hands it back to me.

It’s dark now, close to midnight. We take our seats, facing the hypothetical south.

“The fireworks start at midnight, right?”

“That’s what Will told me,” Moleman says. After a second or two, he adds, “The God of Will, that is.”

“Yeah, yeah, I understood that,” I lie. My hand hovers over the various delicious foods he brought from the party he was supposed to be the recipient of. Let’s see here… Ah, meat! Always a classic.

“Kitty, could you show me your medal for a second?” Moleman asks.

“Hm?” I respond, mouth full of meat. “Oh, yeah, shuwe,” I say, threading the medal over my head and handing it to him.

“Thanks,” Moleman responds, accepting it. After a second or so, he pulls his own medal from his neck, holding it out to me. “Mind holding this for me?”

Fighting the urge to tilt my head like a dog, I accept the medal. Then, I watch as Moleman without saying a single word or even looking at it threads the medal over his head. Silently imitating him, I hang the pink first-place medal around my neck.

We look across the arid wasteland and watch as the first fireworks rise into the air and burst into flowers of light.

“Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you,” Moleman says, “I finally know why you can’t learn magic.”

My jaw falls a little. “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” Moleman says. “I asked Pain about it. Most of the other admins are kind of standoffish about this sort of stuff, all ‘you need to have a wish to ask Me that’ and stuff, but Pain was really cool about it.”

“Okay, so…” I lean in closer. “What’s the problem?”

“Well, um…” Dodging the question, Moleman lunges into an overview of magic. “See, when you learn magic at first, it’s kind of like doing an audition. You understand the core elements and by doing that you open yourself up to the prospect of being sponsored by the Gods. We’re always sponsored with our skills and stuff, but magic is granted by one God in specific. When you audition to learn magic, you might get a couple or a bunch of Gods who notice you, some who have noticed you since before, and they’ll do a bit of an auction over the chance to sponsor you. The winner of this bidding gets to become your sole provider of divinity, and by acting in ways that they like, you can increase your sponsorship of divinity, becoming stronger. If you’re wondering, I’m actually sponsored by the God of Knowledge. He views curiosity, active learning and a humble attitude as important.”

I stare at him. “Are you saying that—”

His lips turn into a thin white line. “See, it sounds pretty bad, but—”

“Not a single god wants to sponsor me? Not one?!”

He holds up his hands placatingly. “It’s a bit more complicated than that, but, uh… Kind of? To begin with, sponsorship is a pretty complex deal, but your situation is even more complex than that, so there’s a lot of factors to consider…”

“Not a single one…” I mumble listlessly.

Moleman looks at me, looks at the fireworks in the distance, and finally decides to simply pat me on the back. “There, there, Kitty. Maybe one day you’ll get to shoot lightning bolts out of your fingertips.”

“One day…” I murmur.

We watch the fireworks. The food is eaten, we share drinks. Moleman brought a bottle of some kind of high-percentage sweet liquor, which we drink together, clinking glasses and watching as the fireworks fade over the city. Soon the bottle is almost emptied, and the sky is dark, save for the endless stars and moons. Lying down, we share the blanket, watching the clouds blotting the glittering stars.

“That’s the bowman,” Moleman explains, pointing out a cluster of stars. I can’t tell how it’s supposed to look like a bowman, but I don’t question it. “And that over there is Prince Lumit, and his wife Elysia. And then the royal dog, which is chasing the twin cats…”

The hours pass easily.

When the hour is late and the moons stand high, painting the world in monochrome, I ask, in a voice gentle enough to hide my own uncertainty, “Do you think you’re making the right choice?”

He’s silent for a moment. Then he points up, at a constellation I think he called ‘The Brothers,’ and says, “If you set port in Ret-inn and sail towards Oulm, you’ll begin with the brothers. Halfway to Oulm, one brother kills the other brother, and he disappears down the horizon. And when you reach Oulm, the second brother disappears too, replaced by the Fire King, who brought righteous fury upon the second brother for his crime.” His finger trails back over to the brothers. “But… when you start out at Oulm, it’s a different story. The king has one son, a mischievous child who frequently gets into trouble. To make him better, he sends him away across the seas, where the son has a child. This child goes on to become a great warrior, eventually returning to take his father’s place as the true heir to the throne.”

I feel my brows furrow. “...I don’t get it.”

He chuckles. “Neither do I.”

“So you didn’t really answer my question,” I theorize aloud. “It’s two completely different stories. I don’t…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Moleman says calmly. “This isn’t for you to worry about.”

…Right. My gaze soars high above, to the stars, and to the brothers. I can’t tell whether they look happy or sad. Why did one kill the other? Couldn’t they keep being friends? Did something happen? Was he redeemed through his death, or…?

There’s a ding as a bunch of status messages suddenly roll in.

in the tutournament!>

Group rank: 54th place

Solo rank: 3rd place>

Unless chosen otherwise,

you will soon be returned to your lobby.>

one additional day?>

The status screen appears as an intrusion on the quiet moment, but I can’t find it in me to instantly press the ‘Yes’ button. Instead, I look over at Moleman, quietly reading his stats. Group tournament: fourteenth place. Solo tournament: first place. And then, below that, there’s an added message that I don’t have.

You are eligible for a Wish.

Would you like to redeem this Wish now?

Without any hesitation, he presses ‘No,’ letting the status message fade away. Then, he turns to me. He smiles gently. “You should probably get going. Soon enough the leaderships will notice I’m not actually looking for you anymore, and you don’t want to be around for that.”

“I guess so,” I answer. “But…”

“What is it?”

I sit up, turning to look at him. “We’ll meet again, right?”

Mirroring me, he sits up as well, face confused and voice almost incredulous as he says, “Well, of course. Why wouldn’t we?”

I blink at him. The sheer, unquestioning certainty in the way he said it makes the other words buzzing through my brain suddenly feel awfully stupid. “You know. If I were to die, or if you…”

“I’m not going to die,” Moleman says as though dying was some exotic disease. “And neither are you. We’ll meet again, and we’ll share a meal, and that can take however long it needs to.” He suddenly smiles. “What, are you thinking of going and dying on me?”

“N—no! Of course not!”

“Good. In that case, there’s nothing stopping you, is there?”

Ah. He caught me. “...I guess not, huh?” He pats me on the back, making the pink medal still around my neck jingle. Reminded, I grab it, saying, “You’d better take this back, if I have it it might get sold, so—”

“Keep it,” Moleman says, pushing it back onto my neck. “And I’ll keep yours. If you want it back, you’ll have to live to do it. Got it?”

My eyes fall to the third-place medal slung around his neck. “...Alright.” I look back up, straight into his eye. “It’s a promise.”

He grins, shakes my hand, and promises.

After saying my goodbyes, I press the ‘No’ button and smile as I’m transported far away from that place, all the way back to a certain RED lobby.

…Well, might as well get right back to it, right?

A few days later, thanks to my staunch efforts, I finally clear the eighteenth floor. Interestingly enough, no new goblins had spawned in, so I just had to kill the one guy I missed last time. Curious. Either way, there was one clear and obvious reason that made me hesitate to clear it fully—a reason hung proudly around my neck.

Nevertheless, I had to clear it eventually. So I did.

points for clearing the floor.

You have received an additional

1 000 points for being the first to clear

the floor.>

you will receive an additional reward.>

the additional reward has been

traded for 5 000 points.>

<18 Gods have shown a positive response to you.

You have obtained 18 000 points.>

<40 Gods have shown a negative response to you.

40 000 points have been deducted.>

the floor clear reward has been

traded for 1 000 points.>

And just like that, the next floor began.