Chapter 10 ….
Rookie in a Broken Game
Newbie Lim Sujeong (1)
Rattle, rattle!
A woman groaned at the uncomfortable jolts, as if traveling along an unpaved road.
“Ugh…”
When the woman, lying down, opened her eyes, what greeted her was a completely different world.
“Huh?”
The ceiling was draped with some kind of yellowish cloth. When she turned her head, sacks of grains—apples, onions, potatoes—were stacked in every corner.
“Wha-wha-what?”
Where am I? I was just meeting friends for a drink and then fell asleep… Did someone kidnap me?
The typical reaction to being dropped into an unfamiliar environment is one thing:
Expression.
As the woman opened her mouth to scream, a voice like jade beads sounded.
“You’re awake?”
Immediately, her eyes were filled with a golden wave.
“…”
The woman shut her mouth tightly. The reason was simple: the appearance of the woman in front of her was dazzling enough to suppress any fear. She didn’t seem like she belonged to this world.
If one were to dare an analogy—an angel?
“Wh-who… are you?”
Lim Sujeong, once an ordinary South Korean college student, stammered.
-
Newbie 4. East Asian character. Appears confused at first.
The blonde woman slipped the notebook she had been scribbling into her arms and smiled.
It was a smile as magnificent as her looks.
However…
The words that came out of her mouth were anything but gentle.
The truth of this world.
The misfortune that had befallen the newbie.
The actions necessary to survive.
The blonde woman handed down a cruel fairy tale, as if telling an old story to her granddaughter.
The unlubricated door screamed.
Under the shadows cast by the noon sun, the blonde woman stepped out.
Clomp, clomp.
Leather pants perfectly matched the boots pounding the worn floor. Her tunic was a mix of leather and fabric, with a crisscross tie over her chest that radiated subtle allure.
The inn’s seated patrons glanced over, but quickly looked away.
A bloodstained scabbard dangled from her waist, her height easily over 183 cm, muscles carved into her forearms, and eyes cold and sharp, warning of danger.
She sat at the counter. The innkeeper, stirring stew in the kitchen, poured her a beer.
“Tough day, Niammel.”
The man sitting beside her, Azoff, spoke.
Niammel responded.
“Yeah. Nothing unusual, right?”
“This lousy town’s always the same. How about your side?”
“I picked up a newbie on the way up.”
Niammel smiled while sipping her beer, the foam at the corner of her lips acting like an accessory.
“Oh?”
How long has it been since the last newbie after Kal?
Azoff asked with a bright expression.
“What’s the job?”
“Kal’s probably still training her.”
“Hopefully not another warrior… we need variety soon…”
As Azoff scratched his head, Niammel asked,
“Martial artist?”
“Are you serious?”
“Hmm… half-serious. She’s a king-tier returning character, after all.”
With the right gear, skill tree, and a little control, a martial artist can be incredibly strong. Azoff knew this too.
But…
“The problem is surviving until then. Even our party, which has been somewhat preserved, couldn’t clear Chapter 1 without struggling.”
“…Yeah, that’s true.”
Baek Geon-yeong died to goblins, Kang Hyuk to Nol.
Reina and Kevin fell to wild boars.
Die, die, die again.
Newbie survival rate: 0%.
Even Kal, without Niammel’s brutal training, would likely have followed the same path. This broken game was merciless.
-
My way: I push hard.
-
Don’t obey, you die.
‘My judgment wasn’t wrong.’
‘In the end, she adapted and survived, right?’
Recalling the past, Niammel smiled contentedly and chewed her lips.
There was a bone fragment in the meat of her soup.
Niammel chewed, then spat it out.
“….”
At that moment, a seated farmer glanced at the fragment.
A strange heat flickered in his eyes.
The farmer cautiously picked up the bone and licked it…
“Crazy bastard!”
“Eek!”
Though he thought he was being careful, Niammel saw everything. She sprang up and went for her scabbard.
“Hold it, Niammel! Hold it!”
Thanks to Azoff’s desperate mediation, Niammel ended it by kicking the chair instead.
“Get out!”
The farmer ran off. Niammel huffed for a while before resuming her seat.
That night, after leaving Dnak half-dead at the watermill, the youth association made no more trouble. But they weren’t the only threat in this village.
In this pit of savages, not a civilized modern society, there were all kinds of twisted minds and perverse desires.
This pretty newbie was enough to provoke their greed.
“….”
Niammel glanced at other tables.
Some men, friends of the fleeing farmer, were watching them, frowning.
‘Another fight? That’d be a real war… The Greenskin Empire will invade soon, and Chapter 1 will start—this village will be a wasteland…’
‘Hah, still… makes me angry. Might just rip off a few heads…’
At that clash of modern logic and paladin fighting spirit, a calculation was made.
Azoff tapped Niammel’s shoulder, placing a coin on the counter.
“Shall we check on that newbie?”
Niammel let out a brief, helpless laugh.
“Yeah.”
She thought: This American friend is quick on the uptake.
“Have you calmed down?”
“Waaah! Please send me home! I beg you!”
Kal had pleaded, so they gave the newbie one more day.
Yet she still couldn’t adapt.
In a secluded part of the village, a sharp-looking man scratched his head as Niammel and Azoff approached.
Niammel gestured toward the crying woman.
“Still like this?”
“…Yes.”
Two moons, unfamiliar clothing, and a flea-infested bed gave much to think about.
For someone seeing the same repetitive days pass, reactions usually split into two:
Resigned compliance or madness.
Of course, this newbie wasn’t given that much time.
Instead, she had a perfect play guide in the form of a fairy.
“Keep her calm,” Niammel had been told.
Kal, who had arrived before Reina and Kevin and completed adaptation to this world under Niammel’s Spartan training, was a muscular young man.
The character’s appearance was East Asian: black hair, black eyes. Contents aside, that was the standard.
Kal, nickname Ichigulji, had a tearful face, stimulating maternal instincts.
“I tried my best…”
“Didn’t work?”
“…Yes.”
‘Idiot.’
Niammel smirked inwardly.
You think it’s easy to convince someone whose life just changed?
Don’t you remember your first time here?
Niammel sighed. Kal was still mentally fragile, even after being reborn.
Then came surprising news:
“Also… I don’t think she’s possessed.”
“What?”
Niammel and Azoff’s eyes widened.
Even these seasoned players were shocked.
“She’s really in her own body. Just… dimensionally transported.”
Looks similar at first glance, but that was a huge difference.
Perhaps one of the basic laws of this world they knew was wrong.
“Niammel…”
“Later. Now isn’t the time.”
“Waaah!”
“So she’s a true newbie, who’s never even played DUNS?”
“Yes… so convincing her is harder…”
Kal’s eyes widened in fear.
Niammel’s actions had caused it.
Grab!
“Ah!”
She grabbed the crying newbie’s hair without hesitation.
“Hey, newbie.”
“Let go! It hurts… sob… it hurts… aaah!”
What followed was harsher.
Smack. The newbie’s head turned. Though not as extreme as Niammel, her pale cheeks flushed.
Tears filled her wide eyes, enough to trigger protective instincts.
Smack, smack, smack.
But Niammel repeatedly slapped her with a cold expression.
Shivers ran through Kal, recalling past nightmares.
Yet he mustered courage to stop Niammel.
“N-Niammel! This is a bit…”
“….”
Azoff blocked him and shook his head firmly.
It said plainly: You want her to adapt fast, right? To survive? This is the best way.
“Ugh… uh, sob…”
“Not answering?”
“Yes, y-yes…”
“If you cry again, I’ll hit you more.”
“Sniff.”
Niammel raised a hand; the newbie covered her mouth, desperately holding back tears. Niammel’s hand gently patted her head.
Squatting, she met the newbie’s eyes with a smile.
Hair slightly brownish, possibly dyed or natural, and gentle eyes.
Quite pretty.
“What’s your name?”
“Uh, I’m… Lim Sujeong.”
“Pretty name. Sujeong, you still don’t get the situation?”
Everything I’m doing is for you.
The more you struggle, the harder it gets.
Niammel said coldly instead of showing her inner thoughts.
“Crying and throwing a fit won’t change anything. There’s no one here with the patience or ability to deal with it. Want me to tell you what happens if you keep acting like this?”
Her calloused hands framed Lim Sujeong’s face. Outside, sweat-soaked farmers worked the fields, all looking fearsome—as if facing North Korean soldiers.
“You… to them…”
Niammel whispered, and Sujeong’s eyes widened.
“Gah!”
“Shh.”
A straight index finger touched Sujeong’s lips.
This applied to anyone, male or female. Even in modern society, crimes like this happen.
Here, in a medieval barbaric world, powerlessness meant utter misery.
Just as Niammel herself had almost experienced.
She whispered coldly to Sujeong:
“Breathe… breathe.”
Panting.
Sujeong’s face turned pale.
“Strapped like a leash, what happens? You rot here… fuhhhhhh!”
“Ugh, aah, kyaaah!”
Sujeong panicked. Niammel hugged her gently.
“It’s okay. Everything will be okay. I’m here.”
Her heartbeat slowed. Sujeong, oddly enough, felt relief from the very woman who had been violent toward her. Shock therapy worked wonders.
“….”
Kal’s face twisted in horror, recalling his own experience. Niammel was truly… terrifying.
“So Sujeong, I’ll tell you how to get out of this mess.”
“W-what? How? What…?”
“Clear this broken game.”
Survive without dying, finish all nine chapters. That’s how they would be free from this hell.
“You remember how to check your status, right?”
“Yes, yes. Close eyes, imagine your face, meditate.”
“What’s your job?”
“P-priest.”
Sujeong stammered.
Niammel’s lips curved into a genuine smile.
“Nice.”
Finally, Chapter 1 could be cleared.
