He had thought negatively of tattoos.
A tattoo was clothing you could never take off, so why wear it?
On Earth in the twenty-first century, tattoos were relics of an outdated age whose uses had vanished, leaving only their drawbacks behind.
Before he reincarnated into a fantasy world, he had believed that as firmly as iron and stone.
◆ ◆ ◆
Doreun was in the labyrinth guild of the labyrinth city east of the capital, reading a pamphlet for novice explorers.
The bookish sorts of twenty-first-century South Korea would not realize that there were as many as three things to marvel at in the sentence just now.
First, that a petty commoner reincarnated into a fantasy world where bloody territorial wars with monsters were a fact of life had grown into an adult in one piece, without parents and without losing so much as a finger.
Second, that an orphan born on the outskirts of humanity’s domain had somehow made it all the way to the labyrinth city, which could be called the center of the human world.
And third, that he had even learned his letters in the process and become an adult capable of reading continuous prose.
If this were put into a book—no, he did not even want to put it into a book. It would not be interesting.
In any case, Doreun, whose appearance made it hard to believe he was an orphan—wearing quilted armor reinforced with leather, with a club and round shield hanging at his waist—was studying this thing called a labyrinth, which he had only heard of through stories passed from one person to another, by word of mouth, carried by rumors without feet.
Not long after he opened his eyes in the temple orphanage and realized he had reincarnated into a fantasy world, Doreun dreamed of becoming a human tank, a “knight”; a human mortar, a “mage”; or a human general hospital, a “priest.”
But what was this? Even leaving aside the knights who went around with monster blood on their armor and the mages who blasted fire from far away, the priests of the orphanage, who embraced parentless children with love, were also covered in tattoos from head to toe.
Whenever he asked about it, the priests, too busy to even blink, would only say, “I got them in the labyrinth.”
Doreun was finally able to resolve the curiosity of his childhood.
Feeling that the pamphlet in his hand was thicker than he had expected, Doreun headed for a nearby table.
It was something placed there for people like Doreun, who had only just come up to the city and become novice labyrinth explorers.
He sat in a chair, but instead of leaning against the backrest, he bent forward and turned the pages of the pamphlet.
“Hmm...”
He stroked his fairly dark beard and organized his thoughts.
‘So the tattoos the knights, mages, and priests had are abilities granted by the labyrinth?’
In Doreun’s homeland, Earth, tattoos had been nothing more than clothing that could not be removed. Here, in the place that had become his new homeland, they were abilities that actually functioned.
After reading that killing monsters in the labyrinth could grant abilities, that the eastern labyrinth he was currently in produced the “warrior” ability, how to enter and exit the labyrinth, and that the first floor of the labyrinth, which was divided into floors, was easier than expected, Doreun closed the pamphlet and stood up.
‘Good. My path is “warrior.” For now, I’ll just throw myself at it.’
It was a level of drive that might seem rash for a person from the twenty-first century, but Doreun had his own grounds for it.
The pamphlet’s contents were surprisingly detailed, driving away the fear that came from ignorance. On his journey from the distant outskirts of humanity’s domain to the labyrinth city, he had caught goblins and the like before. And perhaps because he had stolen food from picky orphanage children, he had a better physique than most, which gave him confidence.
Thus, as long as he bought enough supplies to stay in the labyrinth for a few days, there would be no problem with leaping straight onto the path of exploration.
Thinking of the last of his travel money, Doreun checked the supplies he currently had.
The shield and quilted armor he wore, a leather cap—too flimsy to call a helmet—and a club.
A multipurpose dagger in a crude bag, a blanket to sleep under, flint, a waterskin, and a small amount of preserved food—jerky and bread hard as fucking rock.
What he needed now were torches, a few more waterskins, and more preserved food.
◆ ◆ ◆
Things did not go as he had thought.
He did not want to explore while carrying torches that would last two hours at best like some kind of woodcutter, so he bought a semi-permanent lantern that used a mana stone. After that, he did not have enough left to buy both waterskins and preserved food.
So, like a modern man, he chose the waterskins.
Apparently, when novice explorers were dropped onto the first floor of the labyrinth, they usually left after three to five days. The pamphlet explained that the labyrinth was extremely vast, but unless one’s goal was to use the fixed portal leading to the lower floor, it was not difficult to find one of the exit portals that appeared at random.
Now he did not even have money to buy cheap stew from a nearby shop.
If he did not want to be left behind and loiter around here and there, volunteering to run errands, he had to enter the labyrinth at once, beat goblins to death, gather mana stones, and get out before he starved.
It was a situation where he had to earn the money and pay himself back.
Doreun checked the strap of his bag one more time and slung it over his back.
There was no turning back now.
◆ ◆ ◆
When he entered the labyrinth through the portal at the entrance guarded by soldiers, a dark maze greeted Doreun.
Doreun activated the lantern without delay.
He had set the lantern so that its light shone only in one direction, and first shone it at his feet.
According to the pamphlet for novice explorers placed in the labyrinth guild, the goblins on the first floor generally roamed alone or in groups of three to five, and they made things difficult for explorers by setting traps on the labyrinth floor smeared with feces.
If one fell victim to a trap smeared with goblin feces, it would first be extremely unpleasant, and if not treated quickly, one might even have to have a foot amputated...
Doreun did not have any of those gor-geous and lux-urious supplies like antidote potions even if he wanted to eat one and die, so it would not be an exaggeration to say that checking underfoot was the top-priority task of this labyrinth expedition.
From directly under his own feet, he checked straight ahead, then left and right, and turned around to check behind him as well.
“Good. At least I didn’t drop into a dangerous spot...”
Doreun adjusted the leather cap that was better than nothing and steadied his heart with a deep breath.
“Now I just have to not die, not get hurt, and earn back what I spent...”
It was not difficult. Everyone had a first time.
Doreun did not even agonize over direction and simply headed forward. If his goal had been to find the fixed portal leading to the lower floor, he would have had to bring along an old hand who had memorized the entire maze-like terrain of the first floor, or hire experienced party members wrapped head to toe in specialized abilities from a place that produced scouting abilities.
But if, like Doreun, his goal was simply to leave at an appropriate time, then wandering through the labyrinth at random and luckily discovering an exit portal would be enough.
Muffling the sound of his footsteps, Doreun walked to a three-way intersection that split left and right. He pressed himself against one wall, stuck out his head and lantern, and checked both sides.
“Kerek!”
From the left, a single goblin spotted the lantern light and began running toward him.
Perhaps it was beginner’s luck; he had fortunately encountered a goblin roaming alone.
Doreun did not make the mistake of stepping onto an unchecked floor to fight. He simply retreated a few steps, set down his bag and lantern, and waited for the goblin to come around the corner.
A goblin that had seen the light would run all the way here anyway.
—Scrrrape.
For a brief moment, his heart pounded against his chest, and then the goblin burst out while scratching the stone wall at the corner with the nails of its right hand.
“Hup!”
Doreun did not aim his thin club at the wildly moving goblin’s head. Instead, he stepped forward with his left foot and, with the shield in his left hand, shoved and struck near the goblin’s upper body.
—Thud!
The goblin, struck by a wooden shield large enough to rival its upper body the instant it rounded the corner, toppled backward flat on its back.
“Kek!”
The goblin, with half-rolled eyes, a large hooked nose, and sharp claws on its hands and feet, tried to twist its body and get up the moment it fell.
But Doreun did not stand still either.
He hurriedly approached the fallen goblin, stomped on its chest with his left foot, kept the goblin’s right arm in check with the shield in his left hand, and brought the club in his right hand down on the goblin’s palm-sized head.
—Thwack!
The goblin’s head was struck by the club and hit the ground, taking another blow.
Doreun did not let his guard down. He struck the half-unconscious goblin several more times to finish it off.
—Thud! Thud!... Thud!
After taking time to carefully judge whether the goblin was dead, Doreun moved the foot he had placed on the goblin’s chest and backed away to rummage through his bag.
The goblin’s skull was broken and blood was flowing, but even so, he did not turn his back on it entirely.
As he rummaged through his bag, he lifted the lantern with one hand and checked behind him.
—Rustle, rustle.
“Hiss... hoo! As expected, it’s nothing much. One of them is easy.”
Letting the taut string of tension loosen, Doreun took a dagger in hand and split open the dead goblin’s chest.
The smell and warmth of hot blood were unpleasant, so he pulled his face as far back as possible.
After scraping several times with the tip of the blade, the skin split to the sides, revealing the goblin’s sternum and the dark-blue stone embedded in it.
With his gloved hand, Doreun plucked off the mana stone and pocketed it.
Mana stones were byproducts obtained from killing monsters, and countless labyrinth explorers made their profit from them.
Doreun, too, had to fight and win a few more times, then leave with more mana stones.
He put the fingernail-sized stone into his emptied wallet—his leather pouch.
Then he shouldered his bag again, hung his shield at his waist, held the lantern in his left hand, and gripped the club in his right.
He rubbed the club against a part of the goblin’s body without blood on it to wipe the blood away.
He turned the corner to the right, where there had been no goblin, and walked while shining the light at his feet.
The darkness draped over the labyrinth, the bleak stone walls, and the unfamiliar space became a little more familiar.
“Good. This is good... but how much is one mana stone worth?”
He had thrown himself into the labyrinth with respectable decisiveness, but he did not know how much a mana stone was worth, so he had no idea when it would be all right to leave.
“Who gives a damn? I haven’t even found an exit portal yet. It’s too early to think about that.”
◆ ◆ ◆
Still walking through the labyrinth while watching his footing, Doreun turned a corner, and an open area greeted him.
“Kerrrk.”
As Doreun entered the clearing, a goblin was standing with its back turned.
When he shone the lantern on the stupid-looking back of its head, the large goblin turned around.
A hobgoblin, far taller than an ordinary goblin, about the height of an adult man.
It was even holding a wooden club in one hand.
“Hey, we skipped the middle stage.”
The hobgoblin began running toward Doreun. Doreun hurriedly flung down his bag and carefully set the lantern down after adjusting its direction.
Doreun advanced to meet the hobgoblin, gripping his shield tightly.
Just before he collided with the hobgoblin, he considered his strategy in that brief moment.
Originally, he had thought about what he would do if he encountered goblins traveling in groups of three to five, but meeting a hobgoblin had made that useless.
Now he needed a different strategy.
A hobgoblin was far bigger than some ordinary goblin, heavier, and even armed.
It would be right not to underestimate it, but to think of it as fighting a slightly stupid person.
In fights between scrubs, weight class was everything, and their weight classes were roughly matched. He could not let his guard down.
The charging hobgoblin was right in front of him.
Doreun stopped his feet and thrust out his shield, firmly bracing the inside of it with the hand that held his club.
Doreun received the hobgoblin’s downward swing with his shield tilted at an angle, then nimbly pivoted a quarter of a quarter-turn on his left foot.
“Hup!”
After that, he shoved hard at the hobgoblin, whose center of gravity had collapsed!
“Kerrrk! Kerek!”
Unable to withstand both the force of its own charge and Doreun’s shove from the side, the hobgoblin flailed its limbs and toppled over backward.
It dropped the wooden club it had been holding as well.
He had succeeded in knocking it down, but Doreun did not let his guard down.
He could not handle a hobgoblin the size of an adult man like an ordinary goblin.
A hobgoblin of similar weight and size might push his foot off and get up even if he stepped on it, and even in that state, its filthy claws could reach Doreun’s torso.
If that happened, it would become a mud fight.
(Of course, Doreun would win, but the genre would change from a brawl to a time attack for dealing with infection.)
So Doreun did not try to simply stop the hobgoblin from getting up in a one-dimensional way. Instead, he avoided the hobgoblin’s arms and legs, circled toward its head, and brought his club down wildly.
—Thud! Tup, thud! Thud! Tup, tup, thud!
Doreun’s club slammed indiscriminately into the struggling hobgoblin’s head and the stone floor, scattering blood.
The hobgoblin did not dare to get up and covered its head with its arms.
To get up, it would have to place its hands on the floor.
If it placed its hands on the floor, the merciless clubbing would completely smash the hobgoblin’s skull.
—Thud! Thud! Thud!
“Hup! Hup! Hoo, hup!”
Doreun, who had been circling round and round as if doing a ganggangsullae dance while clubbing in a trance, stopped his hand and gasped for breath.