Unskippable Script

As I told Caliburn before, WWC had a lot of characters.

After playing it fifty-four times, I could practically recite the profiles of major supporting characters from every faction.

‘If I’d studied like this, I’d have gotten into a top university.’

Well.

Probably not.

But since there’s no way to verify, it doesn’t matter.

‘Anyway.’

Among the supporting cast, there was one character who played an important role in the Day 3 quest.

Not flashy.

Not particularly celebrated.

‘Basically, supply division.’

After Day 2, once territories were secured, each faction left the dormitory and began living centered around their acquired lands.

‘Living.’

Which was effectively the same as building a new city from scratch.

‘That’s why supply becomes crucial.’

To form a city, three essentials are needed: land, people, materials.

The supply unit provided materials to the people living on the land.

‘Gathering lumber and stone for construction. Transporting them.’

Not all sigils were combat-oriented.

Especially those granted by lower-ranked post-apocalyptic creatures rather than high-tier gods or spirits—most of those were support-type.

‘But that’s not the important part.’

Among support sigils, some accelerated plant growth.

Some doubled harvest yield.

Some temporarily restored exhausted soil.

Some even altered the nature of land itself.

‘Cultivation.’

That was why I bought the Cultivation (Grade 3) skill the moment I saw it in the shop.

Anyone watching would’ve called me insane.

For example.

Jeok-o.

Jeok-o.

Jeok-o.

‘Because Cultivation isn’t considered a strong support skill.’

But.

Skill ‘Cultivation’: 179/500

(※ Skill evolution possible upon mastery increase.)

Anyone who’s played games knows.

Depending on the system, classes have advancement tiers.

Skills evolve too.

Though sometimes they get nerfed into garbage for arbitrary reasons—

No, that’s beside the point.

“I’ve got a feeling.”

The supply units currently working tirelessly in the new cities—

Their sigils clearly differed from my skill.

Theirs affected plants and soil only.

Mine did not.

‘I tested it during the fight with OZ.’

It could cultivate life.

Not just plants.

Life as a whole.

Perhaps even beyond that.

‘Cultivation (Grade 3) might actually be a superior-tier version of the supply sigils.’

And according to the description, it could evolve.

If that happened—

If my guess was correct—

“I’ll be able to manage alone.”

I muttered.

Then flinched.

“Damn, startled myself.”

That was my voice.

When did I say that out loud?

“This is why loners are a problem. Too many monologues.”

Embarrassed, I glanced around and grumbled.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Thick, cold darkness filled the building.

An empty room.

No one else here.

Naturally.

This was the dormitory where the Bran candidates had lived.

‘Anyone with a faction has already moved.’

After Day 2, everyone relocated to their territories.

As far as I knew, I was the only candidate without affiliation.

‘Though even if someone were here, it wouldn’t matter.’

I absentmindedly touched the back of my neck.

Bare skin.

I was neither Bear-Skin 13 nor Snake-Skin OZ right now.

If I encountered another candidate, I wouldn’t be in danger.

‘Ah.’

An exception came to mind.

‘Jeok-o.’

If I ran into him now, that might be bad.

After what happened on Day 2.

“It’ll be fine.”

I dismissed it quickly.

Surely a high-profile Lord wouldn’t be here at this hour.

Which meant I had to hurry.

“Damn, it’s dark.”

As Caliburn pointed out, I had work tonight.

Not work exactly.

Collection.

Investment for the future.

“Who the hell lived in this room? So messy.”

I crouched, carefully examining the floor.

Some materials disappear over time.

That’s why I rushed here.

“If I were this guy’s parent, I’d smack him once per second.”

Current Items:

Bamboo Tube ×37

Frozen Soil (North) ×50

Half-White Half-Black Hide (Unusable)

D290 Hair ×10

D09173 Fingernail

D11595 Upper Garment

D9702916 …

I straightened rumpled sheets.

Swept floors.

Shook out curtains.

Repeated the process room by room.

The item list kept growing.

Then.

“……?”

I stopped mid-step and crouched again.

“Indigestion?”

My stomach churned.

Like I’d overeaten.

I minimized the item window.

Still didn’t feel better.

‘Stress?’

I wasn’t mentally strong.

When something bothered me, it manifested physically.

Like indigestion.

Sometimes real indigestion.

The cause was obvious.

‘OZ.’

I swallowed.

This is a game.

Caliburn even enhanced immersion visually.

The only thing that could stress me like this was OZ’s death.

‘Feels like 3D motion sickness too.’

Since then, my mood hadn’t been steady.

Fine most of the time.

Then suddenly irritable.

Or uneasy.

Like earlier.

“Was there no one usable?”

When Caliburn asked that, something inside me snapped.

And even hours later, it lingered.

“Am I regressing into a shut-in?”

I held my head, trying to calm down.

This was bad.

I had work.

If I got fired, I couldn’t pay my credit card.

Wait, how much was this month’s bill—

Beep.

New script detected. Skipping unavailable.

“……!”

I jerked upright.

What?

[N/S: I felt a gaze. And presence. A chill ran down my neck. What’s going on? Where should I look? Just moments ago, the dorm was empty—]

A different kind of chill ran through me.

This script appears seconds before events happen.

Meaning—

“You rat……”

If I don’t react immediately, what’s written will occur.

“Been scurrying through gutters. So this is where you were.”

A sharp voice sliced against my ear.

[N/S: A familiar voice.]

“Damn it.”

Of course.

Pray not to get paired with someone, and that’s exactly who shows up.

[N/S: The hand gripping my neck was like a knot of iron. I couldn’t pry it off.]

“Haha, what brings a busy Lord here?”

I forced a smile.

“Shut up, rat.”

Jeok-o bared his teeth.

[N/S: I was flustered. Why is Jeok-o in the dorm?]

Exactly.

[N/S: At this hour?]

Exactly.

[N/S: I desperately thought. Assuming his target was me would be narcissistic. Then why is he here? He should be the busiest among the Lords—]

“Still daydreaming with me in front of you?”

I waved my hands frantically.

If you choke me, I can’t answer!

He didn’t kill me.

But he didn’t let go either.

Then—

Breathing eased.

“Almost died.”

I coughed dryly, clutching my neck.

Finally, I looked at him.

“Damn. You’re scary.”

If looks could kill, I’d be dust scattered in the wasteland.

At least laser eyes weren’t part of this setting.

‘He let go. So not killing me immediately.’

I cautiously studied him.

‘Was it really that serious?’

My conscience immediately went on strike.

“Anyway. Didn’t expect to see you here. Business running smoothly, boss?”

Polite.

Friendly.

[N/S: His eyes glowed red. Literally. I learned that a person can express murderous rage without speaking.]

Didn’t work.

[N/S: Burning fury. Deep humiliation. And beneath it, unfathomable hatred.]

Reading the script, something felt off.

“Gutsy. Pretending ignorance in front of me?”

“Wait.”

I raised both hands.

‘He spared me once. That’s all.’

One wrong word and I’d be dead.

‘Damn it. What do I say?’

My brain spun violently.