First one red bear, then another, emerged from the dark path ahead. They were already in combat mode, and their speed increased as they charged forward. As soon as both entered the mine’s blast range, I pulled the remote lever of the M18 Claymore mine in my hand.
The deep sound of the explosion echoed throughout the tunnel. It kicked up dust and sand, obscuring my vision. Using this mine was more difficult than I had anticipated. In VMB, explosions didn’t cause nearly as much debris. The rising dust and sand formed a smokescreen, so I quickly switched my goggles to FLIR mode. Through that, I saw the large red forms of the red bears.
Both of their bodies radiated intense heat, with their chest areas showing an unusually high temperature. I wondered if that was the magic stone emitting such heat.
The two red bears stopped moving. Their faces and limbs were covered in blood, but they still seemed to be alive. There was no way I’d miss my chance while they were motionless. From a prone shooting position, I aimed through the sights and aligned the crosshair with their heads.
I activated the zoom function to enlarge the image of one of the red bear’s heads. I pulled the trigger, using controlled bursts to manage the recoil, and fired another shot. Then, I smoothly shifted to aim at the second red bear, essentially lining up the next target.
As if sensing its impending demise, the other beast’s eyes emitted a violent, red glow that was visible even through the FLIR. I remained in this mode until the two red bears were enveloped in a black haze and sank into the depths. It had been a magic stone radiating that intense heat, and now it cooled as the haze engulfed the bodies. By the time the bears had completely disappeared into the labyrinth, only the magic stone remained, slightly warm. I picked it up to evaluate it and noted that it was elemental. Its slight redness suggested it was a fire magic stone.
I placed it into the pouch where I kept such things, and simultaneously took out the non-elemental, wind, and water magic stones to examine them through the FLIR. The non-elemental stone showed no discernible temperature. The wind stone appeared slightly red, while the water stone had a cool, bluish tint. It seemed that elemental magic stones possessed unique temperatures, albeit subtle ones.
I descended to the Wolf Fang Labyrinth’s third floor. As before, I continued to map the area while deviating from the known path that led to the fourth floor. This third floor reportedly contained the labyrinth’s only safety zone. This was a small room known as the Spring of Purity.
In this otherworldly realm, labyrinths were inherently malevolent to the surface-dwelling races. Paradoxically, spaces existed within these labyrinths where neither beasts nor demi-humans could attack. What could explain this contradiction? It was said that the labyrinths were created by an ancient evil god. According to the archive librarian, this god was so ancient that even its name had been lost to time. This evil deity used the labyrinths to spawn beasts and demi-humans to annihilate all races inhabiting this world. No one really knew the reason behind this destruction.
This unknown aspect tied into the Spring of Purity’s existence. Despite the presence of an evil god intent on destroying the world, there was no record of a benevolent god opposing it. It was unclear whether this was due to lost records or to the deity’s absence. Many labyrinth scholars hypothesized that this confusion was on purpose, as part of the evil god’s game with the world.
Because it was a game, the labyrinths yielded beneficial magic stones to the surface races, and the Spring of Purity served as a safety zone for them. In deeper labyrinth levels, teleportation magic circles allowed movement from the surface to certain floors. Successfully navigating a labyrinth granted access to the great magic stone, the Dungeon Core. This was all due to the evil god’s design.
“This is strange...”
While pausing to battle several times on the third floor, I aimed to find the Spring of Purity. Today’s exploration was intended to include a brief rest there. However...
“This is definitely strange. I’m hungry, but not tired. I feel great despite all the fighting and running around I’ve done.”
I’m not this physically fit in my original world. So, why can I keep moving without tiring? What has happened to my body? Could it be that falling into this other world awakened some sort of cheat ability? Or perhaps I’ve gained some skills or talents unique to this world? But wait...
I drew a combat knife from the leg sheath attached to my right thigh. I braced myself, and I made a small cut on my fingertip.
“Ouch! Okay, yeah, I feel pain. I still bleed. This is as expected. The question is: what happens next?”
Red blood welled up and formed a small dome over the cup before dripping down. The bleeding stopped.
“How does it stop so quickly? When I registered as an adventurer, the blood from the needle prick stopped immediately then, too. It wasn’t just my imagination...”
I put my fingertip in my mouth and tasted the characteristic faint scent. Yep, it was blood. I was relieved that it wasn’t something else as I watched the cut close.
“Regeneration? The wound is closing.”
The cut reversed itself, and my fingertip became unblemished. No scar or mark remained—it was completely restored to its original state.
I was at a loss for words. This wasn’t my body. In fact, it wasn’t even human. My stomach grew tight. My legs trembled until I was unable to support my weight. In the third level corridor, I collapsed to my knees. The inhuman endurance, the ability to regenerate from injuries—these were not cheat abilities, skills, or talents gained from my transportation to another world. This body was now a game character’s body.
In VMB and other basic FPS games, it was common for a character’s HP to regenerate over time. While hardcore modes without HP regeneration existed, they were beyond the basic settings and merely extended the range of gameplay. Game characters neither tired to the point of being unable to run, nor did they lose limbs from explosions. The health lost from bullets or artillery was restored over time, unless they died.
As a VRFPS, VMB players moved freely, performing acrobatics, precise shooting, and engaging in group battles across various battlefields. There were no stamina parameters to limit character movement, and players could dash and jump repeatedly as desired. This character specification manifested in my body in this other world. With no way to return to my original world, I became an adventurer designed to survive here.
But am I truly alive? What does it mean to live? If am living here in a game character’s body, what has happened to my real body? Was it left in the original world?
My thoughts were interrupted by an abrupt screech—“Kikyaaa!” It was a goblin. It fearlessly raised its club at me, screeching as it did. Did it think I was easy prey since I was kneeling so weakly?
“So naive!”
As the club swung down, I deflected it by deploying the Circle Barrier Shield. This exposed the goblin’s abdomen to my P90. I pressed its muzzle into the goblin’s belly and pulled the trigger. My thoughts stopped, and I watched the goblin’s shocked expression freeze on its face as it sank into the labyrinth.
I was in the Wolf Fang Labyrinth. I didn’t know whether my body was human or a game character. But surely, I was alive. I felt hunger, sleepiness, and pain. The inhuman things my body could do were convenient for survival in this world. If I chose to live here, I had to make the most of this body and coexist with it.
“Yes, that’s the only way,” I muttered as I walked into the Spring of Purity.