"I heard that right… Paul Bunyan. The giant who leveled mountains, remembered for his kindness and his… stupidly huge blue bull."
I almost facepalmed at the obvious realization. Of course. Unless my body was frozen in sheer caution, these two men had just killed me, and now they were approaching me like old friends.
I don't know what kind of face I was making, but Paul—who still had his hand extended—slowly pulled it back, clearly confused. The Apache, lips pressed tight, looked straight into my eyes. Instinctively, my hand went to my throat. That made him take the initiative and speak.
—Geronimo —he said in a deep, calm voice—. I want to apologize. What happened in the valley wasn't personal.
His voice was sincere, and his expression genuinely regretful. Still, my hands wouldn't stop trembling. I wanted to say something, but my throat tightened, just like when my blood had spilled out.
—I have an idea —the lumberjack interrupted, his cheerful tone completely clashing with his brutal performance in the arena—. How about we make it up to you by inviting you to eat? I'm guessing you're short on credits.
"And hell no."
I couldn't imagine sitting at a table with the people who had literally murdered me, but… something in Geronimo's eyes made me reconsider. I had nowhere else to go, and at best, I could squeeze some information out of them.
So I nodded.
—Alright… fine —I said, my voice shaking.
They both smiled widely, so innocent they could've passed for door-to-door salesmen. For a moment, I forgot how merciless they had been.
Together, we walked to one of the massive dining halls. Sitting across from me, they summoned a message above the table:
[Recovery Meal: 3k CN]
"Three thousand credits! Axio wasn't joking when he said I shouldn't even consider eating."
The prices were absurd given the risks. Paul pressed the button three times, and three steaming plates appeared before us.
The food was strange: meat that shimmered like crystal, dense bread that felt like stone, and tasteless yet fizzy drinks. If you think water has no flavor, you haven't tried this. Everything was bland—like chewing cardboard in different textures.
"Good thing I'm not paying for this. I'd feel robbed."
—First time? —Paul said, noticing my obvious disappointment—. This is what we call "recovery food." It's nothing like what we remember as food. Honestly, I doubt it even has a purpose beyond reminding us that we can eat. Hahaha!
He laughed uncontrollably as he kept chewing.
—You must have a lot of questions, kid —Geronimo said kindly, extending his hand—. The system doesn't usually explain anything. If you've got doubts, ask away. Consider it part of the compensation.
I still didn't trust them, but this was the best chance I'd get.
—Yeah. That Axio guy didn't explain how any of this works —I summoned my system screen, but neither of them showed interest.
—Sorry, but we can't see your status screen —Paul said—, if that's what you're trying to show us.
—But if what you don't understand is distribution, I'll explain —Geronimo continued—. First, look at your star. It's below your name on the left side.
"My star… perfect. There isn't a single damn star on this panel."
I didn't want to say it. I didn't want to expose myself in front of my killers. And I couldn't help thinking my HUD was different because of that "gift." Assuming the neural network was my star, I nodded along as if I'd found it.
—When you choose one of the points, you press it. If you meet the conditions, you pay the skill cost to unlock it. Credits can be used to unlock your star, level up, or buy services in the Nexo.
—Remember, everything here runs on credits —Paul added—. So keep three priorities in mind: one, have enough to stay in the game. Two, unlock your entire star as fast as possible. And three, level up whenever you have spare credits. All of that is vital if you don't want another knife cutting your throat, hahaha.
"Yeah. Hilarious."
I let out a long sigh. My HUD was clearly different from what they described, but at least we shared something. My name appeared, and below it, the neural system. When I pressed my name, more information appeared.
I only had 10k CN. With that, I could either level up [5k] or buy a skill [10k]. Following video game logic, I assumed level costs would increase. So after staring at the screen for a long time—pretending I had multiple options—I pressed the only available skill.
[Search: Unlock Condition Lv1 / Cost 10k CNProvides a clear view of player positioning, the floor boss, and their movements. The higher the level, the more precise the data. Each level unlocks additional mapping and participant-related functions.]
With no better option, I pressed the digital button.
[You have unlocked Search I]
—A reconnaissance skill —I sighed.
—Those are rare —Geronimo said—. You'd better get used to it before entering another trial.
—Why don't we head to the training area? —Paul interrupted again.
Before I could respond, he grabbed my arm and dragged me out of the dining hall, Geronimo following behind with a resigned smile.
On the other side of the hall was an enclosed field, similar in structure to the others, but instead of tables, it was divided into small arenas protected by fences. Paul dropped me inside one.
My legs trembled. Even without physical sensations, I was sure I was sweating cold as I once again found myself at the mercy of these two.
Paul watched me for a moment before asking:
—Where are your weapons?
—I don't have one… —I admitted.
Without hesitation, he threw his axe at me.
It was so heavy that I collapsed to the ground with it, making the lumberjack burst into laughter.
Geronimo quickly picked it up and returned it to Paul, then extended his hand to help me up.
—Let's start with this instead —he said, handing me the knife that had tasted my flesh.
I instinctively pulled my hand back, letting it fall to the ground.
"Are you seriously handing me the murder weapon, man?"
—Watch your foot! —Geronimo shouted, stepping back—. What did you do to make your reflexes so… nonexistent?
"Well, playing video games, reading novels, and watching anime. Though if studying were a sport, I'd probably be better trained than you two."
I couldn't deny it. I was useless in combat.
Then it hit me—a melody, a song I always hummed at work to lift my spirits: Eureka.
Pride surged through me. I straightened up, lifted my head, and replied:
—I was… a great general.