Olan stared at the fairy, confused. "You're going to send me into a game world?"
The fairy smiled brightly. "Yes, I am your ultimate skill."
"Ultimate skill?" Olan thought, intrigued. Does that mean I can access a status window like in games?
He turned to the fairy again. "How do I access the status window?"
"Just say the words 'Show me my worthiness,'" the fairy replied.
Olan muttered the words softly, "Show me my worthiness," clasping his hands together as if in prayer to the fairy.
Suddenly, a blue screen appeared before him:
---
[Ticket to the Game World: 1 (one-time entry, random character possession)]
Name: Olan Moemon
Age: 18
Overall Level: 1
Identity: Starter
Skills:
Ultimate Skill: My Dummy Buddy (Automatically forms a contract with any being more powerful than a human)
Contracted to a Fairy: Bond Unbreakable
Fairy Magic:--------
Unique Skill: Devil's Contract (Grants others' wishes in exchange for something of value)
Contracts: --------
---
The fairy's voice rang out with excitement. "Are you ready?"
Olan sighed. It's better this way, he thought. Dying from hunger is worse. He noticed he also had a second unique skill, though he wasn't sure how to use it yet. Still, he understood from his gaming knowledge that rare abilities were scarce. The rarer the skill, the fewer people would have it.
For example, his Devil's Contract was unique to him—no one else in the game world would have it. On the other hand, the My Dummy Buddy skill might be shared by a few others, but only three to five at most. With these thoughts swirling in his mind, Olan nodded, still wondering what kind of character he might end up as. Could I be the protagonist? A god? A demon? Or maybe just a rival... The randomness of it all made it feel like a real-life gacha with high stakes.
The fairy, floating beside him, loosened the bowtie from around her neck and threw it toward his status screen. It shimmered with golden light as it touched the display.
"It requires magic energy to draw items from the status screen, which you don't have right now," the fairy explained. "But since I'm your fairy, whatever I touch gains the mana stored within me, so this will do the trick."
She waved her hand, drawing out a golden card with a flick of her finger. In a flash of silver light, the card ignited, burning in the presence of her magic.
Olan watched, amazed. "That's... incredible!"
As golden mist began to swirl around them, glowing like a sun in the dead of night, both Olan and the fairy vanished into the game world.
*****
"Find her; she's nearby, hiding somewhere!"
"I won't let that traitor's daughter escape, boss!"
"Yeah, that bastard Duke sold our country's valuable information. Their family needs to cease to exist!"
The agitated voices echoed through the forest, drawing closer as the men scoured the area. The sound of rustling leaves and snapping branches sent tremors of fear through her.
Concealed beneath a tangle of thick underbrush, a beautiful sixteen-year-old girl with disheveled blonde hair struggled to catch her breath. Her noble attire, once elegant, was now muddied and torn, evidence of her desperate flight. Aren, Aren, keep quiet! she silently urged, her heart pounding in her chest. They'll find me.
We're not traitors, she thought, her mind racing. My uncle deceived our family for the Duke's position. How could he do this to us? Rage twisted her features at the thought of betrayal. If he'd only asked my father, he would have gladly given it to him. Father didn't even want that position!
As tears streamed down her cheeks, painful memories flooded her mind—laughter turned to screams, security shattered by treachery. She wrapped her arms around herself, trembling in the darkness, her body shaking with despair.
Sorry, Father. I couldn't save anyone. I want to die, but because of the promise I made to you, I can't die.
What would they do if they caught her? The chilling thought sent another wave of panic through her. Suddenly, a branch snapped nearby, and her breath hitched in her throat as the voices drew nearer.
They're coming, she realized, her heart racing wildly. She pressed herself deeper into the shadows, praying they wouldn't find her, her mind racing with thoughts of escape.