Armed with the knowledge from the Adventurer's Handbook, Roland's first priority was clear: gear. He was currently a glass cannon without the "cannon" part. Aside from the second-hand greatsword he'd hauled from the village, he was essentially venturing into the jaws of death in a linen shirt. One stray goblin arrow or a wolf's bite, and his journey would end before it even began.
As he walked, Roland summoned his status window. He wanted to see how his official registration had affected his stats.
Status Window
* Name: Roland
* Race: Human
* Class: Adventurer (Finisher)
* Level: Gray Stone (Ninth Tier)
Attributes
| Attribute | Score | Description |
|---|---|---|
| Strength | 5 | Physical power and environmental resistance. |
| Agility | 5 | Reaction speed and dexterity. |
| Constitution | 5 | Vitality and endurance. |
| Intelligence | 7 | Logic and memory. |
| Perception | 6 | Environmental awareness. |
| Willpower | 7 | Cognitive control and mental resistance. |
* Current Enkephalin: 30.5
* Trial Countdown: 49 Days
"The panel updated," Roland noted, rubbing his chin. "My class changed from Farmer to Adventurer, but that 'Finisher' tag... and Ninth Tier."
He understood the implication. In the world of Project Moon, a "Finisher" (or Fixer) was a professional mercenary. Being a Ninth Tier Finisher was the bottom of the barrel—the "Rats" of the backstreets. It was a humbling evaluation. Carrying the potential of an Abnormality didn't make him a god; it just gave him a fighting chance to not be a corpse by tomorrow.
He scrolled down to the detailed entries on the "Abnormality" mechanics, his expression turning grim as he read the warnings.
> Abnormalities: Manifested concepts from the human collective unconscious. They cannot be killed, only suppressed.
> Resonance: The bridge to using E.G.O. Abilities. Using these powers subjects the user to Erosion. High resonance minimizes damage; low resonance leads to madness.
> Distortion: The catastrophic collapse of the self. When emotions overwhelm willpower or Erosion goes too far, the human becomes a monster.
> E.G.O. (Divine Armament): A "shell of the self." Unlike Abnormality-based gear, a Divine Armament is born from an individual's awakened will—clarity found in the heart of emotional turmoil.
>
Roland sighed. The system was powerful but treacherous. Only legendary figures like the "Red Mist" Gebura could fully suppress an Abnormality with sheer willpower. For someone like him, using E.G.O. was like wielding a double-edged sword without a hilt. It was a trump card for life-or-death situations, not a tool for everyday chores.
Following the handbook's recommendations, Roland navigated the cobblestone streets until he found a modest storefront tucked away in a side alley: The Thorn Weapon Shop.
The shop was weathered and unassuming, but it had a heavy, grounded feel. He'd chosen this place because the handbook mentioned the owner was a retired Adventurer with a soft spot for rookies. In a world where merchants would happily sell a newbie a rusted breastplate for the price of gold, a bit of honesty was worth its weight in silver.
Roland pushed open the creaking door. The air inside was cool and smelled of oil, cold steel, and old wood. Longswords, axes, and recurve bows lined the walls in various states of polish.
Behind a sturdy oak counter, a tall, middle-aged man was hunched over a thick ledger. He looked up as the bell chimed, his eyes sharp but not unkind. He closed the book and stood, his broad shoulders filling the space.
"Welcome to the Thorn," the man said, his voice a gravelly baritone. "I'm Soren. How can I help a fresh face like you?"
Roland offered a polite smile. "Hello, Mr. Soren. I was told your equipment is reliable and your prices are fair for someone just starting out."
Soren gave a short, appreciative grunt. "The handbook, eh? Good. At least you know how to read. That puts you ahead of half the idiots who walk through that door."
He came around the counter and led Roland toward a rack of leather gear. "Since you're likely on a budget, we'll stick to the basics. You need protection that doesn't slow you down."
He pulled down a set of dark, boiled leather armor. "This piece belonged to an old regular. Took a nasty hit to the legs and had to retire. It's second-hand, but the stitching is reinforced and the leather can stop a glancing blow from a goblin's blade. One silver coin."
Roland examined the armor. It was sturdy and well-maintained. "I'll take it."
He decided against a new primary weapon. He only knew the basics of the greatsword, and buying a new blade would leave him penniless. Instead, he picked up a simple, sharp dagger for close-quarters emergencies.
While he shopped, his mind turned back to his "Golden Finger." He knew he needed to perform an Extraction soon. The system allowed him to "fish" three Abnormalities from the sea of the unconscious and pick one to resonate with.
He prayed he wouldn't pull an ALEPH-class monster right away. If he extracted something like Nothing There or Censored, the mere presence of the Abnormality would likely liquefy his brain. He needed something stable—a ZAYIN or TETH class like One Sin and a Hundred Good Deeds or the Scorched Girl.
"Reliance on E.G.O. is a trap," Roland reminded himself. "Train the body, use the magic only when the reaper is knocking."
The total for the leather armor and the dagger came to 1 silver and 20 copper. Soren, seeing the meager coins in Roland's hand, sighed and reached under the counter, tossing him a sturdy canvas backpack.
"Consider it a 'don't-die' gift," Soren grunted. "Come back when you have more silver and fewer bruises."
"Thank you, Soren. I appreciate it."
Roland slung the pack over his shoulder, feeling a bit more like a proper mercenary. He headed straight back to the Adventurers' Guild. It was time to see what his life was worth on the open market.
The Quest Hall was crowded and loud. Men in plate armor and women in silken robes milled about, but Roland headed for the massive wooden board where the "Commission Scrolls" were pinned.
His eyes immediately jumped to a high-paying listing:
> [QUEST]: THE MISTY FOREST OGRE
> Description: A rogue Ogre has been sighted in the eastern reaches of the Misty Forest. Eliminate the threat and bring back a tusk as proof.
> Reward: 60 Silver Coins
> Time Limit: 2 Months
>
Roland's eyebrows twitched. Sixty silver coins. That was more than he'd seen in his entire life. But he wasn't an idiot. An Ogre was a walking tank of muscle and rage. With his current stats, he wouldn't be "eliminating" anything; he'd be a light snack.
"Focus, Roland," he whispered. "Start small. Get paid. Don't die."
He began scanning the lower half of the board, looking for something a Ninth Tier "Rat" could handle without becoming a statistic. He needed a job that provided both coin and—more importantly—a chance to harvest his first real batch of Enkephalin.
He needed to fill his wallet and test his mettle, all while keeping a very close eye on the forty-nine days remaining on his countdown. The Ordeals were coming, and Gray River Town would be no shelter if he wasn't ready.