Joseph had always been pretty mediocre. But now, in this new world, he had somehow achieved an even lower status—broke, defenseless, and completely ignored.
Joseph saw massive stone gates after what felt like hours of walking, feet sore, stomach growling, and brain desperately trying to process his absurd reality.
Dravenhold was the name of the city that he came across, having noticed the large sign nearby. Pretty handy.
The city itself looked like it had been ripped straight out of an RPG: medieval stone buildings, bustling market stalls, and armored adventurers swaggering about like they owned the place.
Joseph certainly didn't own the place. He didn't even own a single coin.
And that was a problem
The two guards at the gate were built like medieval bouncers. Their shiny armor looked intimidating, their swords even more so. When Joseph tried to casually stroll in like he belonged there, one of them extended a hand.
"Halt. Entry fee is two silver."
Joseph blinked. "Uh… yeah, about that. What if I don't have two silver?"
The guard snorted. "Then you don't enter."
"Okay, but hear me out—what if, instead of paying, I just... walk in anyway?"
The second guard, who had been silent up until this point, casually rested his hand on the hilt of his sword.
"Alright, I see where this is going," Joseph said, backing away. "No money, no entry. Got it. Fantastic system. Love it."
Joseph wasn't a man of pride, and hunger was already gnawing at his stomach. So, in a desperate bid to survive, he resorted to what he called the NPC Approach—he loitered near the gate and tried talking to random people in hopes of triggering a helpful response.
"Excuse me, kind sir—"
The passing adventurer barely spared him a glance before striding past.
"Hey, miss, you look like a generous soul—"
She shot him a look of pure disgust and quickened her pace.
"Yo, bro, got any spare change?"
The burly warrior walked right through him as if he were an invisible ghost.
This continued for a good twenty minutes before Joseph finally accepted the truth: he was bottom-tier even among the poor.
"Is this how NPCs feel when I ignore them?" he muttered, slumping against the city wall. "Damn. I owe a lot of apologies to those quest givers."
Just as he was about to accept his fate as a homeless medieval peasant, a soft voice called out.
"Are you in need of help, traveler?"
Joseph looked up to see a young nun standing before him. She had short, light brown hair, bright green eyes, and a kind smile that radiated protagonist-supporting-character energy. She wore a simple white and blue habit, a wooden pendant around her neck, and carried a small pouch tied to her waist.
For a moment, Joseph just stared at her. Someone was actually acknowledging his existence?
"Yes!" he blurted out, scrambling to his feet. "Yes, I am extremely in need of help. Preferably in the form of food, money, or—honestly, at this point, even a pep talk would be great."
The nun giggled. "You must be new here. Most wanderers find their way by registering as adventurers. That way, you can earn a living."
Joseph frowned. "I mean, that sounds great and all, but… I don't even have enough money to enter the city, let alone register for a job."
The nun's smile didn't waver. Instead, she reached into her pouch and pulled out three silver coins.
"Here. This should cover your entry and registration."
Joseph's eyes widened. "Wait, seriously? Just like that?"
She nodded. "I am Sister Amelia, a servant of the Goddess of Mercy. It is our duty to help those in need."
Joseph hesitated for a moment. If this were a game, this would be the part where he got roped into some holy quest or lifelong debt. But, considering his alternatives were either starvation or breaking into the city like a medieval bandit, he decided to just roll with it.
"Okay," he said, taking the coins. "You're officially my new favorite person in this world."
Amelia smiled. "Come, let's get you registered."
With Amelia's help, Joseph entered the city, taking in the crowded streets and chaotic market. The smell of freshly baked bread nearly reduced him to tears, but he forced himself to focus. He needed to become an adventurer if he was going to make it.
The Adventurer's Guild was exactly what he expected—a large, rowdy hall filled with battle-hardened warriors, robed mages, and shady-looking rogues. At the front desk sat a bored-looking receptionist, flipping through a stack of papers.
Joseph approached cautiously. "Uh, hi. I'd like to register as an adventurer?"
The receptionist barely glanced up. "Registration fee is one silver."
Joseph slid the coin across the counter, feeling a small part of his soul ache at how quickly he had spent his charity money.
The receptionist handed him a wooden tag. "Fill out this form. No guarantees of survival. No refunds."
Joseph stared at the form. It asked for things like Name, Age, Combat Experience, and Preferred Weapon.
He filled it out as honestly as possible:
Name: Joseph
Age: 17
Combat Experience: Does dying to a truck count?
Preferred Weapon: Uh… a rock?
Handing it back, he gave the receptionist a hopeful look. "So, do I get any cool starting perks? Maybe a sword? Magic? A free meal?"
The receptionist stamped the form, looked him dead in the eye, and said:
"No."
Joseph sighed. "Figures."
And just like that, his "adventure" officially began.