What You Should Crave Is a Cute Girl's Body

"You have returned to the starting point. This is the end."

"No."

Alvis did not stop walking and took another step forward.

"For a circle, the starting point is the endpoint, and the endpoint is also the starting point. Since this is the starting point, how can I have reached the end?"

He kept walking, lap after lap, without ever tiring.

This was not merely sophistry, but an unbreakable closed loop of logic.

In the end, bound by an ancient contract and unable to violate the wager, the ferryman felt an unbearable irritation.

He could not let this mortal keep circling around on his shore forever, not only being an eyesore but blocking the way as well.

Furious from humiliation, the ferryman could only raise his foot and viciously kick Alvis out of the Underworld.

"Get lost! Go back to the world of the living and keep walking your circles! When your legs rot away, get lost back here!"

And so, Alvis returned to the human world.

This was a fairy tale known in every household in this world.

The story always ended like this:

[So, children, do not treat death as an inevitable future.]

[When strength cannot defy fate, wisdom can draw you a looping circle. As long as you keep moving forward, the ending will never catch up to you.]

Lance had always thought it was just a story for comforting children.

But now, looking at the class information for [Pale Sentinel], he suddenly felt that...

Perhaps Alvis's class back then had been one that repeatedly danced along the boundary between life and death, possessing exceptionally strong survivability.

If he had to choose between the conventional [Swordsman] and this rare [Pale Sentinel].

As a veteran power-gamer in his previous life, the answer required no thought at all.

"Of course I pick the stronger one."

Lance clenched his fist, a trace of ambition flashing through his eyes.

Since he had cheats, he had to play something difficult.

Next, he needed to properly redesign his skill tree.

As his thoughts returned, the carriage crested the final hill.

The familiar outline of Grayrock Town had already appeared at the edge of his vision.

After confirming that Damian, that foolish kid, had been handed over to the guild's physician and was no longer in danger of dying.

Lance returned to his little attic nest.

He locked the door behind him and laboriously stripped off the blood-soaked equipment.

This set of gear, which had cost him quite a few silver coins, was completely ruined.

The leather armor was covered in scratches and puncture holes, and even two buckles on the greaves had snapped.

It seemed that after this joint-clearing mission was over, he absolutely had to visit the Craftsmen's District and buy a new set.

Lance sat bare-chested at the edge of his bed and looked down at his hands.

They were covered in dried, dark green blood.

Even now, scenes from the shallows kept replaying in his mind.

The Goblins' savage faces, the shriek of stone spears tearing through the air, the sensation of a short sword cutting into flesh, and the shock running through his shield as it took heavy blows.

Lance suddenly realized that his right hand was trembling slightly.

He raised it before his eyes and examined it carefully.

At first, the movement was slight, but as he recalled the battle, the trembling in his fingertips grew more and more violent. His muscles were spasming with excitement.

This was not fear.

Lance knew this feeling well.

His muscles were cheering, his nerves were twitching, and his body was thrilled by dancing on the edge of life and death.

This body craved the next battle.

Slap!

A crisp sound rang out.

Lance stretched out his left hand and viciously slapped that disobedient right hand.

"Fuck, you little bastard!"

He gritted his teeth and cursed viciously.

"At your age, you shouldn't be craving battle!"

"What you should crave is the soft, warm body of a cute girl! Can't you have a little ambition?!"

To suppress this abnormal restlessness, he forced himself to close his eyes and desperately recalled the illustrations in Ostra Travel Illustrated: Summer Issue from the bookstore.

The furry ears of the foxkin girl, the seductive gaze of the succubus beauty, and the elf ranger's long, slender thighs...

He flipped through those pages in his mind again and again until his excitement for battle gradually subsided and his heart became calm as still water once more.

"Phew..."

Lance let out a long breath and kicked the pile of ruined equipment under the bed.

Out of sight, out of mind.

After washing up briefly, Lance changed into casual clothes and headed out again.

This time, his destination was the town bookstore.

He had always been full of curiosity and longing for this world's system of "class holders," but limited by his empty pockets, he could only learn the bare basics through hearsay.

He had previously tried to freeload by reading those expensive professional books at the bookstore.

Only to be taught a lesson by the shrewd bookstore owner.

All advanced knowledge books priced above ten silver coins had been imbued with special anti-theft reading spells.

He could only see the table of contents and introduction in the first ten pages. Everything after that was obscured as though shrouded in mist, impossible to make out.

Want to learn real skills without paying? No chance.

But things were different now.

After robbing that unfortunate Hakon, Lance's purse had temporarily become much fuller.

Without any hesitation, he slapped down twenty silver coins and bought the Basic Guide to Class Advancement, a book he had coveted for a long time.

"Knowledge really is expensive."

As he walked out of the bookstore, Lance touched his much lighter money pouch. Though it hurt, he knew this investment was absolutely worthwhile.

By the time he got home, the sky had darkened. He lit the kerosene lamp before his desk and opened the costly book by its light.

Although it was expensive, he had to admit that it was money well spent.

The book's pages were thick and durable, its writing clear and neat, and it even included exquisite magical diagrams. If preserved properly, it could be passed down for generations without issue.

As the pages turned, the mysterious veil surrounding this world's class system was finally peeled away layer by layer before Lance's eyes.

The path of a class holder was far more rigorous than he had imagined.

The level cap for classes was set at level twenty.

After advancing to a class, the path of advancement through those twenty levels was called the [Ascension Stairway] in ancient texts.

It meant ascending step by step until one could stand shoulder to shoulder with gods in a mortal body.

Class holders' strength was divided into four major tiers: Normal Tier, Exceptional Tier, Transcendent Tier, and Legendary Tier.

Between every tier lay an insurmountable chasm.

The book recorded that once a human class holder entered the Exceptional Tier, the magic power within their body would begin reshaping their flesh, gradually surpassing the limits of their race.

Upon reaching the Transcendent Tier, one person alone could influence the course of a small battle.

As for the final Legendary Tier, ancient documents even referred to them directly as walking natural disasters.

Lance was engrossed in reading until he reached the chapter on attributes and class advancement restrictions, where his finger suddenly stopped.