[Talent: Ouroboros Ring (Red)] Description: Ouroboros, the giant serpent of legend biting its own tail, symbolizes the eternal cycle and immortality. Effect: You will possess one chance of perfect resurrection every day. No matter the extent of physical destruction, or even complete absence, you will rebuild your body and resurrect perfectly after death. Additional: Upon resurrection, all negative statuses on the body will be automatically purged, and all abilities currently on cooldown will be reset.
Lance, lying in bed and preparing to sleep, suddenly widened his eyes.
He stared fixedly at the translucent panel emitting a pale blue light before him, an army of profanities stampeding through his mind.
That damn adult game was actually still chasing after him relentlessly!
Endless stamina, coupled with the ability to respawn with full health on the spot even when deeply trapped in a harem Shuro field.
These two major Talents combined perfectly formed the basic template of an adult game protagonist.
Lance could clearly feel that the short-circuiting sensation on the panel, as if caused by a faulty circuit, had completely vanished.
This meant the system had tended toward stability.
The golden finger belonging to him was only truly and completely loaded at this point.
Yet looking at this luxurious configuration, Lance's expression did not hold much joy, instead leaking a hint of hesitation.
This Talent was like a devil with a seductive figure, crazily enticing him to step into that unknown and dangerous world.
Lance sighed, got up to take paper and pen from the drawer, and began calculating accounts.
According to his original plan, as a senior copyist, his daily wage was fifty coppers.
Deducting the carefully budgeted eight coppers of daily living expenses, he netted a savings of forty-two coppers every day.
Added to the private jobs Nia helped introduce, ghostwriting five family letters per week, earning five coppers for each.
At this rate...
He only needed to endure for another six years to save up that huge sum of ten gold coins to head to Ostella.
At that time he would only be twenty-four.
In that continent's most commercially prosperous city, relying on his ahead-of-his-time mindset, he could definitely gain a foothold quickly and then marry a gentle non-human young miss.
But this was the way of an ordinary person.
What if he changed classes to become an adventurer?
Even if it were just the lowest-tier adventurer, he only needed to kill eight Goblins a day.
According to the market rate, one Goblin ear exchanged for twenty coppers. If he accepted a cleanup quest and handed in ten at a time, the Guild would additionally reward one silver coin.
Deducting food expenses, daily weapon maintenance, and logistics, there was still about forty coppers left.
It would only take a little over two years to save ten gold coins.
And this was merely the efficiency of an ordinary adventurer.
Lance's gaze fell upon the red entry of [Hvergelmir's Boiling Surge].
An ordinary person would be exhausted after killing eight, but what about himself?
Killing thirty a day? Fifty?
As long as his mind could hold out, killing even a hundred was hardly a difficult task.
Lance shook his head hard, trying to shake such manic thoughts out of his mind.
A person could not be too greedy.
Even if he played it safe and only killed eighteen every day.
That would still only take a year to complete the first small goal of his life.
And by then, he would barely even be turning nineteen.
The five full years of youth in between made it impossible for Lance to refuse.
"System! It's all your fault!"
Lance covered his face in agony and groaned.
"The hardest thing in life is breaking out of one's comfort zone!"
Although he complained verbally, Lance's execution was not vague at all.
Early the next morning, he submitted a leave request to his direct superior, Grayson.
The Adventurers' Guild had a massive organization. The clerical records team Lance belonged to was under the administrative department, and he was not the only copyist.
Grayson was also a veteran; given the face of Lance's deadbeat father, plus copyists naturally had leave—only Lance, this workaholic, had never gone and taken advantage of it.
He approved the leave without a second word this time.
Since he had decided to walk this path, he had to follow the rules.
Registering to become an adventurer had a hard threshold: one had to possess a combat skill that reached the "Proficient" level.
Lance could only turn his gaze to the Veterans' Guild.
Money makes the mare go, after all.
After spending a small sum of cash, he finally dug up a permanently drunk retired veteran in a corner of the guild.
This unremarkable uncle was an elite who had survived the famous Blood Iris Battle, and his Castro Swordsmanship had reached the realm of a master.
Indeed, crouching tigers and hidden dragons resided in the Veterans' Guild; any old man sunning himself against a wall could be a retired professional.
For the sake of Lance's deceased old man, the other party gave him a bone-fracturing discount.
He charged only 30 silver coins.
This made Lance watch the 45 silver coins he had painstakingly saved for three months in his money pouch instantly shrivel, his heart aching so much it twitched.
With the instruction solved, he still had to solve the venue.
Through Nia's connection, Lance secretly found a young lady from the logistics department and obtained the use right for the guild's internal private training room.
However, the restrictions were numerous. He could only use it for three hours every day after the sun went down, and he had to pay a wear-and-tear fee of 10 copper coins per hour.
This was already the internal cost price.
Praise Nia.
Lance silently drew a cross in his heart.
Actually, the guild had a free open training ground, but he dared not go.
Deeply versed in the "secret art of surviving", Lance understood the principle of towering trees catching the wind all too well.
If others saw him continuously swinging his sword for several hours without even panting, tomorrow he would probably be dragged down to a basement by some spellcasting-class young lady for research.
There was no need to stand out like that.
Thus, for the next half-month, Lance opened a hellish special training mode.
Every day right after getting off work, he plunged headfirst into that enclosed private training room.
If an ordinary person engaged in this high-intensity swordsmanship training, they would be exhausted in an hour at most.
If it were actual combat slaughter, physical stamina consumption was calculated in minutes.
Yet Lance was completely a freak.
Depending on his talent effect, every time his physical stamina bottomed out, he only needed to stop and take a few deep breaths for his exhausted strength to instantly refill like a tide.
What surprised him even more was that the "abnormal status sensitivity decreased" clause in the talent description was actually effective against mental fatigue as well.
This showed that his mental resilience was extremely strong, fully able to keep up with his body's recovery speed.
This directly resulted in the logistics department recently wondering why the wooden swords and dummies in that training room had suddenly surged in wear and tear.
There were even rumors that some professional was secretly undergoing special training in there every midnight.
Aside from equipment wear and tear, there was also a skyrocketing appetite that followed.
Fortunately, the tavern where Amber worked was right next to the guild.
Every day after finishing training, Lance would drag his ravenous body to report there.
His eating manner, resembling a starved ghost's reincarnation, did not scare Amber, but this huge expense made Lance's wallet tremble.
Luckily, Amber was a kind-hearted girl.
She would always bring over a large platter of meat piled up like a small hill, nonchalantly saying that it was leftover from the evening and had to be disposed of, originally intended to feed the stray dogs in the back alley, so since he was here she would just hand it over to him.
Praise Amber.
Lance swallowed down the delicious roast meat in large bites while giving thanks in a muffled voice.
Relying on this high-intensity training that was close to cheating.
On the fifth day, the system panel popped up with a prompt.
[Castro Swordsmanship Proficiency LV1→2] [Constitution +1]
And late on the sixteenth day.
The swordsmanship threshold that others needed a year to train for, he crossed in half a month.
The panel flickered again.
Name: Lance Class: None Strength: 5 Agility: 6 Constitution: 5 Spirit: 7 Perception: 6 Talent: Hvergelmir's Boiling Surge (Red), Ouroboros Ring (Red) Skills: Castro Swordsmanship LV3 (Proficient), Common Tongue Literacy LV3 (Proficient), Arithmetic LV4 (Mastery)
This period of crazy special training could finally come to an end.
Tomorrow when he went to work would be the day he officially registered as an adventurer!
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