Surviving without God

Jedriel always stood watch in “Haven” during his leaves.

It was a damn boring assignment, but there was no way around it.

That was the order of the “Grand Crow”.

However, today his mood was different. All thanks to the report that a rookie candidate recommended by the Golden Fox was arriving.

«They said he’s definitely “special class”, right?»

...In the midst of the current manpower shortage, could there be any better news than that?

Recalling the feats of the one who last (even though three years had already passed) received the status of “special class”, Jedriel couldn’t hide his anticipation. Especially since he hadn’t liked the recent batch of rookies at all.

«It’d be great if he ended up in my unit.»

With such shining eyes, Jedriel waited for the candidate.

But...

«What the hell is this?»

The moment he saw the guy, all expectations evaporated instantly.

«Did they give him “special class” just for a pretty face?»

...His appearance really was rare.

Thick black hair and azure eyes like precious gemstones.

One glimpse was enough to make such a face unforgettable for life. Even Jedriel, who had wandered all over the continent and seen countless people, had never encountered a face like that.

The information division would surely be delighted. No wonder Dane was the first to approach him and strike up a conversation.

But that was it.

The aura coming off him was utterly unremarkable, and it looked like he wasn’t even a contractor.

«If he were a contractor, there’s no way I wouldn’t notice.»

The god Jedriel had contracted with was the “Demon of the Far Side of the Moon”.

A legendary high-ranked god who emerged from the ranks of great assassins, named so because in life no one could ever see him.

Almost no deity could hide from his gaze.

And yet, from this guy, there was absolutely nothing.

Jedriel’s face turned cold.

«Looks like the Golden Fox has gotten old and lost his edge.»

Sure, taking down a second-tier paladin with a single blow was impressive. But the organization was full of members with that level of skill.

«This guy—and “special class”? Don’t make me laugh.»

Drowsiness washed over him.

Jedriel suppressed a yawn and decided it was time to wrap things up and go to sleep. The aftereffects of yesterday’s operation to eliminate the priestly order were still lingering.

But just as he was about to look away...

«...Huh?»

Gunther’s eyes caught him.

— Come down.

Oh?

— Dust’s falling into my glass.

Jedriel possessed stealth skills of the highest caliber.

People capable of finding him when he was seriously hiding could be counted on one hand across the entire organization—no, across this whole city.

A grin! Jedriel’s eyes flashed.

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Jedriel did not come down.

That was logical. His job was to guard the establishment while remaining unseen.

And for an elite assassin of the organization to appear at the first call would have been downright laughable.

However, the fact that a rookie had noticed his presence and called out to him was more than enough to achieve the objective.

«......»

«......»

Dane and Maya fell silent.

Jeremy’s hand, carrying orders, froze midair.

I drew in every gaze in the establishment like a magnet.

Disbelief, wariness... and astonishment.

There was no trace left of appraising or disappointed looks.

[The Demon of the Far Side of the Moon watches you intently]

[Three gods hastily hide themselves]

I placed one silver coin on the table and stood up.

— If you’re not in the mood, we’ll continue another time.

No one stopped me as I left the bar.

— Leaving so early?

— Weak to alcohol.

— Kh-heh, still just a kid.

The refreshing air of late autumn before dawn.

The guard’s unfunny joke.

And the messages welcoming me.

Ding!

[Story progression: Changes are occurring in the progress of the stage “Under the Raven’s Wing”]

[The combat unit shows great interest in you]

[The support unit displays remarkable curiosity]

[The information division desperately wants to recruit you]

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[The executive division is watching you closely]

***

A safehouse somewhere in Border City.

Several figures with their robe hoods pulled low sat around an old round table.

Huuum— A magical artifact at the center of the table repeatedly played footage of the “rookie candidate”. It was a recording personally sent by the Golden Fox, along with fresh footage just transmitted from “Haven”.

“.........”

As everyone silently studied Gunther, an elderly voice opened the discussion.

— The candidate’s trial will begin soon.

All eyes focused.

— Which division will conduct it?

Two hands rose simultaneously. Representatives of the Combat Unit and the Information Division.

— And the support unit?

— We’ll step aside.

— Good.

The old man nodded.

If the support unit had wanted the rookie as well, things would have gotten complicated. As it was, both combatants and informants were already vying for him at the same time.

«Assignments to two completely different divisions are overlapping.»

A truly exceptional case. It only confirmed how special this candidate was.

The representative of the Combat Unit spoke first, his face resolute.

— Let’s set aside the fact that he detected Jedriel... but sending a warrior who downed a paladin in one strike to the Information Division is a waste of resources.

The representative of the Information Division immediately shot back:

— Idiot, just look at his face. He was born for espionage.

— And you’re planning to make a warrior like that dance at your receptions just because he’s got a pretty face?

— What’s wrong with my receptions? A little training and he’ll be bringing back armfuls of information. Do you even realize how noble ladies’ eyes will pop out of their heads?

— Althea!

— Enough, give him to us this time. You already have plenty who can swing swords.

— Plenty, my ass. We’re catastrophically short. Too many have died recently under pressure from the Theocracy.

— Yeah, same for us. Do you have any idea how many of my operatives’ corpses they fished out of the Upper City sewers?

Opinions clashed, and the two glared sharply at each other.

However, their fierce argument came to an abrupt end.

Because another hand rose at the round table.

The moment the owner of that hand was confirmed, a strange tension filled the room.

— Our division will test the rookie.

“.........”

“.........”

— Naturally, by our methods.

A calm but firm declaration.

The owner of those words was the “Moon Wolf”.

Representatives of all divisions fell silent.

They had things to say, but they couldn’t. Because the right of the division to which the Moon Wolf belonged took priority over all others.

— Then that’s it.

Boom! Silence was broken only after the Moon Wolf left the hideout.

— Damn, like a dog shut out after the door’s slammed.

A short grumble followed.

***

Ding!

[“Moon Wolf” has been appointed examiner for the entrance trial]

[Trial difficulty increases sharply]

[A special reward has been prepared]

The message appeared the moment Gunther found lodging and stepped inside.

Naturally, Gunther wasn’t surprised. Everything was going according to plan.

— Phew.

With a short sigh, Gunther flopped onto the bed.

As befitted a luxury hotel, the bedding was so good it reminded him of Earth.

Normally he wouldn’t spend this much money on lodging, but now he had no companions to cover him while he slept. He had to ensure his safety.

“.........”

Sleep weighed on him. But it was too early to sleep.

«I need to deal with the mess I stirred up.»

The impact caused by the “Descent of a God”, and the tricks he pulled in “Haven”.

Thanks to that chain of events, he had become a candidate in the organization on whom unprecedented expectations were placed. Just like the main character in the original story.

But the reality was that Gunther was merely an extra with the combat power of an average Night Raven member. One tiny mistake, and everything would be exposed—game over.

[Alphonse of Red Street clicks his tongue, asking why you had to bluff so hard]

Why indeed.

«Only this way will the Night Raven be willing to invest in me fully, down to the last coin.»

Night Raven was an organization where status was determined by strength.

If you appeared mediocre, you got mediocre missions, mediocre allies, and mediocre support.

For the future scenario to unfold as in the original, he, as a stand-in, had to stand out just as much as the protagonist. No—he had to draw even more attention.

[Alphonse of Red Street says that even bluffing requires at least a minimum of skill]

«That’s why I’m going to raise my stats right now.»

Before the entrance trial begins.

At the moment Gunther was considering possible methods of growth and building plans step by step...

«First I need to check the God Shop, then find the hidden training method that was meant for the main character... Eddie’s cousin will help with that. And then...»

Ding!

«Huh?»

An unexpected notification sound rang out.

[Calculation of rewards for completion of Act 1, Chapter 1 is complete]

Gunther shot up from the bed.

[Expected number of deaths: 23, actual number of deaths: 11]

[Clear Rank: S]

[Reward for clearing Act 1, Chapter 1 has been issued]

— Karma: 150

— Chaos Chest x3

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The timing was perfect.

Gunther’s eyes quickly scanned the status window.

«...Everything changed.»

The criterion for the clear rank had become the number of deaths.

In the game it had been the number of hits taken or the time to clear, so the change was significant.

But it wasn’t a bad thing. Because he had died far less than expected, he received a high S rank.

Accordingly, the reward was extremely generous.

«We’ll set the Chaos Chests aside for now.»

So-called “random boxes”.

In , these were purely for entertainment.

When opening a chest, an item of a random rank dropped (from common to primordial).

It sounded tempting, but Gunther had never once seen a player get a primordial-rank item. Hell, even rare items dropped extremely rarely.

In 99% of cases, you ended up with junk.

So what mattered more right now was...

«Karma.»

An amount of 150 inspired confidence, but what pleased him most was that karma could now be obtained without dying.

Karma was the most direct method of growth.

When the balance filled up, Gunther felt at ease. After all, a person needs a fat wallet.

[Current Karma: 308]

...Of course, Gunther wasn’t the only one pleased.

[Alphonse of Red Street clears his throat demonstratively, reminding you of himself]

[The Drug-Addicted Saint, eyes shining, has no doubt that this time it’s definitely her turn]

[......!]

[Two gods glare at each other]

[The King of Ninety-Nine Defeats looks at their scuffle with disdain]

...The deliberation was brief.

Gunther decided whose Stigma he would accept.

[The Drug-Addicted Saint waves a vial]

[Alphonse of Red Street dodges with a somersault]

«Calm down.»

There was no need to fight.

[Two gods look at you in confusion]

I’ll give both of you an equal share.

[Two gods tilt their heads]

But first, one thing had to be clarified.

«Guys. I have a hunch, but you won’t be able to answer because of restrictions anyway, so just listen.»

[......?]

Gunther shared his conclusion—rather, his certainty.

«The reason you need karma. It’s to raise your Rank, right?» 𝘧𝓇𝑒𝑒𝑤ℯ𝑏𝓃𝘰𝑣ℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

[......!]

He clearly remembered the message that had appeared when the King of Knights descended.

It said that thanks to karma, his rank had ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ temporarily risen, and he had regained his former majestic appearance.

The meaning of those words was obvious.

«You... aren’t actually the pitiful trash gods your nicknames make you sound like.»

[......]

Presumably, they were higher deities.

But for some reason, they had fallen and now barely clung to existence in a precarious state.

That made it clear why they were so obsessed with karma.

At the same time, one of karma’s functions was revealed.

«A resource that directly affects a god’s rank.»

A shiver ran down Gunther’s spine.

In this world, even gods were not free from the law of survival of the fittest.

There were plenty of gods willing to do anything to raise their rank.

So what, then, had he become, holding the key to that in his hands?

Someone with an absolute trump card for negotiations?

Or a target that would inevitably be exploited?

One thing was clear... when the truth of Gunther’s existence came to light, there would be many who would both welcome and despise his appearance.

He needed power to protect himself.

«If I keep pouring karma into you, someday you’ll regain your former power.»

[......]

«I’ll help you. And in return...»

Surprisingly, the answer came before the demand.

[Three gods swear by their existence that they are on your side]

“......”

Gunther stared silently at the messages floating before his eyes for a while.

«Alright, then let’s begin.»

Alphonse first.

[You offer 125 Karma to Alphonse of Red Street]

[Alphonse of Red Street’s eyes widen as he freezes in anticipation]

If he remembered correctly, last time Alphonse had said that 100 was laughably little, so this time Gunther gave a bit more.

An even 125 for both. The remaining fifty-plus would be a reserve.

Clink-clink-clink— The sound of scattering coins passed by his ears as the karma was paid.

Now the Stigma should imprint, and through it he would obtain a new skill.

«...Huh?»

But at that moment—

A terribly bad premonition struck Gunther in the head.

«Wait a second!»

Ts-ts-ts-ts— Pain, like a burn... was felt around the pubic bone.

«You crazy bastard! Anywhere but there!»

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[Alphonse of Red Street asks in bewilderment why you are resisting an ancient tradition]