[Exiting the 1-Star Forest Dungeon in 5...4...3...2...1.]
I found myself standing in front of the drab, gray building after the system teleported me out of the dungeon.
So much for completing this mission. I was kicked out before I could even finish off the goblin.
"So what now, Johnny boy? You can't go back home if you can't complete the mission and you can't complete the mission if you can't enter the dungeon. What brilliant idea are you going to come up with now?"
I ignored the Inner Me. If he was going to criticize my bad decisions, he wasn't worth listening to.
Thunder boomed in the distance and rain poured down soon after. Great.
Well, there's no use standing around here. I walked away from the building and set off in the direction Gayle drove off.
...
After walking aimlessly for 20 minutes, I gave up and flopped down on a bench. I had no idea where I was going. And even if I did, there was no way the Theeves were going to let me back in. If I'd told them what happened, I'd doubt even Elenai would want to lend a hand.
Typical John, isn't it? Making stupid mistakes left and right. Challenging Little Bruno and stubbornly insisting on winning that fight. Angering the big shot boss of Little Bruno by messing with his daughter. Baiting a guy who doesn't give a crap about his son, whose body I currently live in. Using fire magic in a forest.
I sighed. Even after death, I was doing the same things over and over again. My pride wouldn't let me back down and a lack of common sense put me in dangerous situations that shouldn't have happened in the first place.
Dropping my head into my hands, I muttered, "Hooray for me."
"Ya havin' a pity party, man?"
Looking up, I saw a guy around my age―that is, how old I used to be―stumbling up to me. He was wearing a black trench coat and a floppy, straw hat on his head, covering his face. Both hands were bandaged. Through the heavy downpour, I could see a thin trail of smoke coming from under the hat.
He waved the bottle clenched in his hand around. "Ya wanna drink? The beer around here ain't too bad if I do say so myself."
"You gotta second bottle? I'm not too keen on sharing one."
The man chuckled and pulled out a similar bottle from his coat. He tossed it to me before stumbling toward the bench and sitting down.
I wasn't 26 anymore, so drinking this should be illegal. But I took a swig anyway. It burned and had a bitter taste to it, but I didn't care. It might be a small bit of relief for the crapton of stuff I put on myself, but it was welcome.
The man's head turned towards me. "Heh heh. Somethin' rough happen? I've never seen anyone chug Glazed so heartily before."
The small bit of self-control I had made me pull the bottle away from my lips. Wiping my mouth, I turned to the man and said, "Yeah, well, it's not bad."
He chuckled again. "True, true. I like ya, kid. How long has it been since ya Reincarnated?"
"How'd you know?"
"Ya look about 16, 17, but you're only level one? Any bum with a lick o' smarts would know."
"It's possible to see other peoples' levels?"
The man sighed and took a puff of his cigarette. "You're not too bright, are ya?"
"I don't know how this world works, man, so of course I'm gonna ask dumb questions."
He raised his hands in a submissive gesture. "Alright, alright. I get it. You're a Ranger, ain't ya?"
"Yeah. That's one of my classes."
"I'm one, too. Us Rangers have this passive skill called Track. It's like a radar. It only comes up on your map, so I suggest keeping it open at all times―you never know when you're going to need it."
"Okay." I opened up the map. Inside, I found these circles stretching across it, labeled 1 foot, 2 feet, and so on, finally ending up at 10 feet. In the circle labeled 1 foot, a little dot popped up. Above it were the words EMBER, LEVEL 261 RANGER.
"Woah! Level 261? And your names' Ember?"
"Yup. That's the name. I reckon my ma birthed me near a fire, else I'd probably be called Rickem. She liked the name Rickem..."
"Is there some way to make this map a little smaller?"
"Press the left corner of the map and it'll shrink into a square. You can put it on any side of your screen."
"That's pretty cool."
"Yeah, that Game Master sure was a crafty fella."
"Speaking of the Game Master, who is this guy?"
Ember grabbed the tip of his hat and pulled it down further. "Ya see that muscular man before ya got to the Player world?"
"That's him?"
"Nah. One of his lackeys. Nobody here knows who the Game Master is."
"Is he supposed to be the Player God or something?"
Ember shrugged. "Nobody knows. But I'm sure as heck he ain't a divine bein'. He'll end one day. And then we'll be gone, too."
"Has anyone ever tried to find out his identity?"
"Tsk, tsk. Lemme give ya a word of advice: forget about it. It's not worth slaving away to find out who this mysterious man is."
"You sound like you know from experience."
"Haha! Ya got me there." He leaned toward me. "I like ya, kid. So I'm beggin' ya: don't worry about it. Live your life as best ya can. Don't worry too much. You're still young."
This guy...he makes it sound like I'm gonna die one day. What a strange bugger.