Player Chapter 14. I'm Risking My Life for Grocery Money
The dawn came.
Not dramatically. Not with angelic choir and cinematic lighting. Just a pale wash of blue sliding through the window blinds of his Pocket Dimension like the universe gently whispering, "Time to suffer."
And then…
"RIVEN. UP!"
It wasn't a polite chime. It wasn't a soft harp. It was the exact tone of his father's voice when he used to yank the curtains open at six in the morning and say, "If you skip school again, I will personally escort you."
Riven's eyes snapped open. Full alert. Adrenaline spike.
He sat up instantly.
"Seriously?" he hissed.
[Good morning, sir.]
[You requested to be awakened at dawn for leveling activities.]
He squinted at the ceiling like it personally betrayed him. "You didn't have to use that tone."
[I selected an effective motivational audio file from your memory archive.]
"That's psychological warfare."
[It is called productivity, sir.]
He groaned and flopped back for exactly three seconds. He had trained for years. Early tournaments. Military-like discipline. But he had never been a morning person. He functioned at night. At 2 AM. At morally questionable hours.
Dawn was a personal enemy.
But grind was grind.
He swung his legs off the bed and stood, running a hand through his hair. "Fine. I'm awake. Congratulations."
[Your sarcasm has been logged.]
He dragged himself to the bathroom. Brushed his teeth mechanically. Splashed water on his face. Stared at himself in the mirror.
Sharp eyes. Slightly annoyed.
"You look poor," he muttered at his reflection.
Technically true.
He changed into simple medieval-style clothes, dark tunic, fitted trousers, boots. Neutral. No noble embroidery. No flashy armor. Low profile grind outfit.
Then came breakfast.
He walked into the kitchenette. Stared at the remaining bread.
Just bread.
He sighed like a man who had once eaten five-star cuisine and now found himself negotiating with carbohydrates. Which was true.
He popped slices into the toaster. The smell of toasted bread filled the room. Warm. Hollow. Tragic.
No butter. No jam. No eggs. No protein besides the leftover meat he wanted to save.
He stared at the toast like it had personally offended him.
"Never," he muttered, "in my entire lifetime did I think I would fall this low."
[Your caloric intake remains adequate.]
"That's not the point."
He took a bite. Dry. Slight crunch. Mild warmth.
He chewed slowly.
This feels like punishment.
He swallowed and drank water straight from a glass like he was a soldier preparing for a siege.
No tea. No coffee. No dignity.
He could cook. Of course, he could cook. Basic dishes. He learned to cook because his father believed that, even as a young master, he should master basic life skills. But cooking required ingredients. And right now? His inventory screamed poverty.
So he ate. Quietly. Mechanically.
He finished the last bite and exhaled like he had endured a trial.
"Okay," he said to no one in particular. "We grind."
He wiped his hands. Cleaned the plate.
Then stepped out of his Pocket Dimension.
Reality folded. Medieval room returned. Hard mattress. Wooden beams. Suspicious sanctity.
He adjusted his boots and opened the door casually.
The hallway was quiet. Early dawn. The Temple still asleep.
He stepped outside into the cool morning air and muttered, "Show me the way to Sunfield Plains."
A faint arrow shimmered at the edge of his vision.
[Route calculated. Estimated travel time: 14 minutes.]
He started walking. Hands in pockets. Casual. Almost whistling.
Actually, no. He was whistling. Some random melody that didn't belong in this era. Something modern. Carefree.
Behind him…
Elena froze mid-step.
She had just finished bathing in the shared open bath area reserved for women. Dawn was safest. Least crowded. No wandering priests. Less awkwardness.
She had wrapped herself in fresh robes, hair still damp at the ends. The cool morning air brushing her neck felt refreshing.
And then she saw him.
Walking away. Whistling.
Like he was going on a date.
The melody floated lightly through the cool dawn air, careless. And something inside her paused. She had heard that tune before. A long time ago. She couldn't remember where. But it brushed against her chest like forgotten sunlight… nostalgic, soft, almost painful.
Her lips pressed together.
Where is he going this early?
Why does he look so… casual?
Is he meeting someone?
The thought made something small and unpleasant tighten in her chest.
Ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.
'You are the Holy Saint. Not some jealous side character in a romance subplot.'
He can meet whoever he wants.
She crossed her arms unconsciously.
But still…
He promised to help. And now he was sneaking out at dawn like some mysterious rogue with secrets.
She frowned.
'I just need to make sure he's safe. That's all.'
Yes. Safety. Purely administrative concern.
She began walking after him. Quietly.
The town was nearly empty. Vendors not yet awake. Lanterns dimming. A faint orange glow creeping over rooftops.
Riven's figure ahead looked… different in this light. Softer edges. Less intimidating.
He looked human.
She quickened her steps slightly, keeping distance.
Riven felt it.
Footsteps. Subtle. Controlled.
He didn't turn around.
[You are being followed.]
"I know," he muttered under his breath.
[Identified: Elena Vale.]
He smirked faintly. "Of course."
He kept walking as if unaware. Let her think she was stealthy.
Behind him, Elena felt oddly ridiculous.
'Why am I tailing him? I could just ask.'
But no. If she asked directly, it would imply she cared.
She didn't care.
She just needed to ensure the suspicious new ally wasn't walking into an ambush.
He turned a corner toward the town gate.
She followed.
The plains stretched ahead. Sunfield Plains, rolling green with patches of tall golden grass swaying gently. The sky was still dim enough that the monsters remained active. Silhouettes moved between shrubs. The distant grunt of boars. The faint rustle of predators waking.
Riven stepped fully onto the field.
[New Quest Available.]
The interface slid into his vision smoothly.
[Hunting Contract (Sunfield Purge)]
[Kill Wild Boars (Lv 9) X50]
[Kill Thorn Wolves (Lv 10) X50]
[Kill Marsh Spiders (Lv 11) X50]
[Reward: EXP + 100 Coins]
He exhaled slowly. "One hundred coins?"
[Acceptable supplementary income.]
"I'm risking my life for grocery money."
[Your life is currently valued at 155 coins.]
He rolled his shoulders once. "We'll improve that."