None of the ruffians were looking at me now, focused on beating up the farmers that had surprisingly not given in to their demands.
I had the advantage of having a real weapon, while they have the numbers. I did not like my chances, because first of all, I have never even saw a sword in my entire earthly life.
Risky, very risky. I could lose my second life if it all goes wrong. But I remembered Bob talking about a test. If this was a test, then it should be doable.
That's what I told myself, as I forced my body into motion.
I ran towards the thugs, the short sword out, and held at the side.
The piece of metal was heavier than I thought, but it did not slow me down. The worn leather boots, despite the appearance, were fit for running. The ground was dusty dry and provided no obstacles.
I quickly covered ground and was unnoticed until one of the thugs sounded the alarm when I was just a step away.
"Boooosss!"
Alarmed, my body just halted.
The big guy spun around and swung his club as soon as he saw me. Instinctively, I evaded. The club buzzed narrowly above my head. If it had hit, it would have been enough to knock down a cow.
He overswung, and now much of his body was open. I steadied my footing, and with gritted teeth pushed the sword forward. I felt it land.
I heard the thug leader's guttural gasp and it made my skin crawl. The feeling of the blade piercing the skin was just as disturbing.
I recoiled from him, pulling the sword out as I did. With a pained pale expression, the large man collapsed to the ground.
The wounded thug took his last breaths, convulsed, and then laid still.
The remaining thugs looked at me, then at each other. At a closer look, the thugs aside from the dead one, were teens, years younger than myself. Faces you would not expect to be capable of beating up the elderly for money.
The teenagers terrified that I had killed their leader, threw down their weapons and fled the scene.
The blue screen appeared again.
[Main Quest: Worthy Vessel Completed]
[You have gained 50 experience]
[You have leveled up]
[You have obtained 4 stat points]
[Bob had bestowed you Servant Rank]
Finally! Maybe my overpowered journey was beginning. Excited like a kid on Christmas morning, I headed to the inventory to see what all this rank was all about.
[Rank: Servant
Description: Bob had chosen you as one of his followers and thus had bestowed his providence on you.
Effects:
-Reputation increase results to stat points]
I was disappointed. After having me commit my first murder, you would expect someone god-like as Bob, to give god-like powers. The effect just sounded so lame.
[Main Quest: Worthy Vessel II
Description:
Prove yourself worthy of more of Bob's blessings. Increase your reputation to 100.
Reward: Soldier Rank]
So that's what it was. The faceless dude wants me to earn it, which was not cool as he could just give it. If he really brought me here to stop evil, would not it be better immediately give me some power to work with, so I could do the justice thing right away?
"Thank you, young man. You could have done it a little earlier and you could have saved us some of the bruises, but thank you still. Bravery is not an easy thing to muster." the old man approached me.
[The farmers are impressed.]
[You gain 3 Reputation]
[You gain 3 Stat Points]
"Who said it was for free?" I breathed out, more out of frustration than the need for money. I was yet to know what money could buy in this world, but what I am sure of was there were no PS5s and Lebrons worth stealing for.
The old farmer's wrinkled face darkened. The bushy grey eyebrows met. "You are no better than them thieves. We have nothing to give you sonny, might as well kill us."
[You have lost 2 Reputation]
[You have done a misdeed, unbecoming of the Servant of Bob]
[You have lost -2 Agility as penalty.]
Sun of a beach. I thought things could not get worse. As it turn out the rank has a hidden rule. Is providing transparency that hard for powerful people?
"That was just a joke, gramps. No need to be upset. Why would I expect silver from someone that can't afford better clothes than rags?" I blurted out, then instantly regretted adding the last sentence.
I braced myself for yet another deduction.
The old man just grunted and the farmers with their handheld carts, resumed on their way. The blue screen did not reappear.
I shook my head and tried to calm myself down. What was I even upset about?
I should be dead right now, and most likely burning in the flames of hell, screaming with Hitler and Bin Laden. But here I was with another life, and in a game-like world that would have been a dream come true for my younger self.
Things weren't as bad as they seem.
This could be a better run than my earthly one. Bob's a mean dude but I don't think he'd let me die easily.
So I turned my gamer mode on, and analyze my situation.
The stat points I gained from the level-up, and from the reputation increase amounted to seven points in all. I put 2 on agility, to negate the penalty and added the rest on strength. I ignored Intellect and Charisma, they just did not seem relevant as of yet.
What's next?
If this world follows game-like mechanics then I should search for quests. I need money to improve my crap equipment. That would be also a good way to gain experience and reputation.
If my memory serves me right, quest-giving npcs were often found in town squares, with orange question marks above their head.
The system did not come with a map, but I could follow the farmers.
[Loot]
I was about to be on my way when my eyes landed on the corpse and saw a small blue screen appear above it.
Of course! Looting, one of the best parts about RPG games. It was good that I did not have to manually strip the loot from the man.
But I have learned my lesson and managed my expectations. The thug leader would likely only have useless stuff.
I pressed the button and two windows popped up, showing a familiar interface. One was a smaller window showing the lootable items, another was bigger showing my inventory.
A consolation to my earlier misfortunes showed itself. The thug leader had with him two silver coins.
---
I was in high spirits when I joined the old farmers. They did not mind me joining them. After all, I did save their lives and their carts. And that outweighs one insensitive statement.
But it was more likely because they wanted my protection. Although I doubt I'd be able to provide much. Nor would I risk my life again, if we were set upon by another group of outlaws.
Fortunately, there were no further incidents on the road. The farmers led me to a town called Pinecreek, where they intended to sell their grain.
Now, it was the first time I ever set foot in a medieval town. And I was awestruck like the first time I went to a big city.
It was not as bustling as a city. It was not even as crowded as my small hometown. There were numerous buildings but far from enough to classify even as a town in the modern sense.
But to be seeing many individuals in their medieval attires, speaking and acting like medieval people was surreal.
The road was made of cobblestone, like the ones in Europe. The houses were made of wood and stone, and the roofs of straw. It felt odd not to be seeing glass, plastic, and rubber when back on earth they could be seen at every turn.
Like a country bumpkin, my eyes were everywhere, soaking in the many new things.
Before I could lose sight of them, I remembered the farmers and hurried to match their pace. They were dragging their grain-field carts deeper into the town.
"Do you know anyone that would have worked for me?" I asked the old man. He was sweating but not tired, even after the nearly one-hour walk from the ambush site to Pinecreek. The same could be said with the rest of the farmers.
The old farmer continued to pretend not to hear me.
We emerged into the main square, where the larger of the buildings were located, and the bulk of the townsmen had gathered.
The town street opened up to a Y. Immediately to our left was the shabby two-story building, indicated to be the Pinecreek Merchant Hall, by a plastered large faded wooden signage.
The farmers stopped in front of the building, joining other farmers, and what appeared to be merchants buying their goods. Also among the crowd, were armed men like myself, for a completely another purpose.
But my eyes were on the other side of the fork. To the street and the stalls that lined it. The town's marketplace.
My stomach grumbled. I have not eaten since I set out to steal my neighbor's TV.