Surviving without God

Ryan brought them to Brody’s three-story mansion. As befitted a dignified businesswoman, her residence stood in a high-security district of Middle City—spacious, refined, comfortable. The perfect place for an exhausted group to recover.

— We’ll discuss all complications later. Tonight, everyone needs proper sleep.

Brody undoubtedly had countless questions, yet she asked none. She called a healer, gave Eddie a resounding slap across the face, then retired to her room.

— I... I don’t have anywhere to go right now. And I’m afraid those bastards from the gang might want revenge...

As a bonus, she generously took in Roanna as well—who had suddenly transformed into a meek little lamb.

In any case, everyone received a room. Gunther’s was on the top floor, right next to Brody’s, far more luxurious than the others’. Ryan nudged him with an elbow.

— What’s your ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) secret? How do you get women’s attention like that... especially rich ones?

Gunther ignored him and entered.

Clean. Orderly. No unnecessary decorations, but the furniture and materials were of the highest quality. Brody’s practical taste was evident.

Thud—

After a quick wash, he collapsed onto the bed. The drowsiness that had stalked him since the carriage still lingered.

But—

Ding!

His eyes snapped open. This message was too important to ignore.

[Influence of the Luthien Theocracy in Border City: 9969]

Finally.

A deep satisfaction washed over him, pleasant enough to dull even the fatigue. The stagnant number had dropped below 10,000. The main scenario was moving again.

[Act 1, Chapter 3 Begins: “In the Embrace of Shadow”]

Within days, he would receive an invitation to the initiation ceremony of Night Raven. He would officially join the secret organization. His life of direct opposition to Luthien would begin.

Gunther clenched his fists.

«True ending... one step closer to returning to Earth.»

Danger lay ahead. A harsh road.

He was ready.

Ding!

[Calling Current Status Summary for Character “Gunther Sirhe”]

Primary Attributes

— Level: 50 (1st Hierarchy Cap)

— Strength: 41 | Endurance: 33 | Agility: 39 | Mana: 10 | Charisma: 67 | Luck: 30

— Poison Resistance: 5

— Divine Resistance: 25

Traits

— ??? (Out of Rank)

— Godslayer (Mythical)

Skills

— Knight’s Swordsmanship: Lv. 3 / Mastery 33.3%

— Art of the Pure Heart: Lv. 1 / Mastery 13.9%

— Tyrant’s Eyes: Lv. 1 / Mastery 77.2%

— Sleight of Hand: Lv. 1 / Mastery 22.5%

— Zero-Point Strike: Lv. 1 / Mastery 3.3%

— Overdose: Lv. 1 / Mastery 38.3%

— “Serpent’s Nest”: Lv. 1 / Mastery 66.8%

Items (Magic or higher)

— Frost Wraith Robe (Rare)

— Ladenbach’s Tenacity (Magic)

— Crystal of Superspeed (Ancient)

Stigmata

— One Who Raises His Head (Stage 1)

— Healer and Executioner (Stage 1)

— Tempter (Stage 1)

※ Stigma growth depends on the rank of the god who bestowed it.

Gunther stared at the windows with quiet pride.

Equipment. Techniques. Attributes.

A month ago, none of this existed.

[The King of Ninety-Nine Defeats expresses respect for your efforts and growth]

[Alphonse of Red Street is astonished at how quickly you’ve grown and imitates patting your backside]

[The Drug-Addicted Saint shyly reaches a hand toward you]

«...So I made it this far.»

Act 1, Chapter 1.

When the Protagonist never appeared and the plan he’d prepared for three years collapsed in an instant, Gunther tasted suffocating despair.

Now he had filled that vacant role.

There was still much lacking. But no one could deny he had given everything.

He would continue like this. Step by step.

Just like Dominic Wolf—the protagonist he had played hundreds of times from the other side of the monitor.

— ...Hah.

The certainty that he was on the right path.

For the first time in a long while, that relief loosened the tight pressure inside him.

[The King of Ninety-Nine Defeats pats you on the shoulder]

At that very moment, his body—barely holding together after potions and brutal combat—declared a strike.

Thump—

Gunther fell face-first into the pillow.

[The Drug-Addicted Saint smiles mercifully and sings a lullaby]

[Alphonse of Red Street yells and covers his ears]

Gunther chuckled faintly at the trio’s usual antics.

Thoughts faded.

The exhausting day ended.

.

.

.

Four hours earlier—

Mother’s cafeteria.

Gunther, having let the scarred man escape due to the King of Ninety-Nine Defeats’ intervention, exhaled sharply.

«...Why did you stop me?»

The villain had slipped through his fingers.

The King answered immediately.

[He says he recognized familiar traces in the man’s dagger technique]

«Familiar traces?..»

Something flickered in Gunther’s mind.

The technique displayed by that mere gang officer was far too refined.

«Was it one of your comrades’ techniques? Former gods?»

[All three gods nod simultaneously]

«.......»

Gunther recalled a note from Seiran Library.

— Under Luthien’s tyranny, most old gods vanished. Some survived.

— A negligible portion exist as artifacts or nameless guardian spirits.

There couldn’t be only three.

Did that mean the scarred man had contacted a fallen old god and formed a contract?

«But still...»

His brows tightened.

«Why with someone like that?»

It made no sense.

These three were clearly benevolent gods.

If that one was their comrade, he should be benevolent too.

Why contract with a bandit offering human sacrifices to an Evil God?

Another oddity—Gunther had seen no divine notifications during the duel.

Usually, when facing a contractor, you see the god’s name and influence.

The gods insisted.

[The King of Ninety-Nine Defeats asserts that the scarred man used a unique technique belonging to their comrade]

[The Drug-Addicted Saint suggests he may not be a contractor but connected in another way, or a descendant inheriting mastery]

[Alphonse of Red Street insists the scarred man’s identity must be investigated]

After brief contemplation, Gunther nodded.

«If he’s truly connected to your companion, I’ll investigate.»

Finding old gods was crucial to Gunther as well.

Restoring benevolent deities meant shared benefits. Substantial stat increases.

Until now, the only lead had been the Society of Forgotten Books investigation entrusted to Brody.

Now there was a new thread.

The scarred man.

«...Fine. First, we get out of here. Then we talk.»

***

Present.

— Mm...

Gunther opened his eyes.

The mansion was quiet.

Everyone still asleep.

— ......?

Except one.

From the backyard, energetic shouts echoed. Ryan.

Training again.

Since learning about Night Raven, he hadn’t skipped a day.

— Ngh...

Normally, Gunther would rise instantly.

Today—

— Mm-mmm.

For the first time in a long while, he stayed in bed.

— My whole body aches.

The aftereffects of “Overdose” were no joke.

But despite the heavy body, his mind felt strangely calm.

«I’m sick. So I can’t do anything.»

A kind of sick leave.

Like a schoolboy realizing it was vacation day.

He lay there, wrapped in luxurious bedding, sunlight warming him, simply breathing.

— O-oh...

Several more hours passed before he finally wandered toward the dining hall.

A servant bowed.

— Would you like breakfast?

— ...Yes, please.

Soon a simple brunch was served.

Fresh eggs. Crisp bacon. Buttered toast. Warm herb-scented soup.

— Oh...

«Luxurious.»

He couldn’t remember the last time someone else cooked for him.

He ate slowly, glancing through the enormous window.

«The view’s good.»

The garden lay in late-autumn silence.

Golden light filtered through nearly bare branches. Fallen leaves formed a soft carpet. Ivy clung to stone, faint red still lingering.

The underground bunker.

Mother.

Human sacrifices.

A world where everything devoured everything.

Hard to believe it was the same world.

— ...Do you like the food?

A lively voice behind him.

— I usually cook for guests myself... but today I overslept.

Brody.

As impeccable as ever.

Red hair perfectly smoothed. Jacket on. Only a faint pillow mark on her cheek betrayed sleep.

Gunther felt an impulse to tease.

— You’ve got something in your left eye.

— ...Impossible.

Not the reaction he’d expected.

He remembered Suhyeon swinging her bag in irritation.

He smiled faintly.

— You woke surprisingly late.

— I went to bed near dawn.

— ...Why?

Thud—

An identical brunch was placed before her.

— Work. And I spoke with Roanna.

She had a talent for casually dropping hooks.

— ...About Roanna?

— I’ll be watching her for a few days. Needed to understand her.

— She doesn’t seem easy to read.

— People from Lower City see through each other.

— Hm?

Lower City?

Looking at Brody, radiating wealth, that was hard to imagine.

She widened her eyes.

— Oh? Planning to discriminate?

— ...No. My background isn’t grand either.

— That’s hard to believe.

— Why?

She laughed lightly, pointing at his face.

— You’re nobly handsome. Perfect manners. I assumed you were a ruined aristocrat with a tragic past.

Missed.

He was from the slums of the Republic of Korea.

He smirked. She laughed with him.

— I lived in Lower City until I was eleven. If my aunt hadn’t taken me, I’d probably be a drug addict, thief, or gang member.

— Your aunt... Eddie’s mother?

— Yes.

— Hm. I thought you were born wealthy.

— Ho-ho. I worked very hard to look that way.

She set down her fork and laughed like a proper lady.

— ...Though I never fixed the bad habit of eating too fast.

Her expression shifted.

— Shall we get to business?

Gunther nodded.

— Let’s.