Episode 4

The first spell granted to all new Mages—

[Magic Missile]

When he focused on the skill, a detailed description appeared.

〈 Magic Missile 〉

• Type: Single-target offensive spell
• Description: Fires a projectile made of condensed mana to attack a target.
• Additional Info: Current Uses Remaining (10/10)

“There it is.”

Magic.

In the game, it was just a series of clicks that unleashed attacks on enemies.

But if this really was the world of World Breaker…

Then magic was real.

“But how do I actually cast it?”

Would it activate the same way as the Dimensional Gate and Status Window—by saying the spell’s name out loud?

Might as well test it.

“Magic Missile.” …Nothing happened.

“Huh? So it’s not voice-activated?”

He glanced back at the skill description.

“Single-target offensive spell…”

Right.

He hadn’t specified a target.

Maybe it needed an intended enemy to activate?

His eyes scanned the area until they landed on a loose brick nearby.

Pointing his finger at it, he tried again.

“Magic Missile.”

CRACK—!

A spark flared from his fingertip, followed by a streak of blue light that shot across the room.

The glowing projectile collided with the brick, chipping off a chunk of stone.

For a moment, he simply stared at the debris crumbling to the ground.

It worked.

He had just cast a real spell.

“This… is incredible.”

The lingering tension from before melted away.

Fear?

Gone.

Now, all he felt was exhilaration.

If anything, he was excited to see what awaited him next.

He was tempted to fire off more shots, but a quick glance at the Skill Window stopped him.

• Uses Remaining: (9/10)

“So, I can only use it nine more times?”

In World Breaker, each spell had a limited number of uses before it needed to be recharged.

The only way to recover spent charges was through meditation.

The problem?

He had no idea how to meditate in real life.

In the game, it was just a simple command.

Here?

It was a mystery.

Until he figured it out, he needed to conserve his remaining spells.

“Besides, if my memory is correct—”

FWOOOSH—

His thoughts were interrupted as another transparent window popped up.

But this time, it wasn’t a Status Window or Skill Window.

〈 Prepare for Your First Battle 〉

• Type: Tutorial Quest
• Objective: Defeat three goblins in the Ruined Prison.
• Reward: +1 Stat Point

A quest.

His lips curled into a smirk.

This was the real essence of RPGs.

There were two main ways to grow stronger in RPGs:

1. Grinding enemies to accumulate experience points.
2. Completing quests for direct rewards.

The first method was safe but slow, requiring consistent battles to level up.

The second method was riskier but far more rewarding, granting powerful bonuses for overcoming challenges.

“And nothing beats a tutorial quest.”

Since new players were unfamiliar with the game mechanics, tutorial quests were intentionally easy—but their rewards were generous to help players get started.

They were basically one-time freebies.

This quest?

It was exactly that.

“Defeat three goblins… and get a free stat point?”

Normally, players only earned one point per level-up.

And they were just giving one away in exchange for killing three of the weakest monsters in the game?

It was practically free.

Satisfied, he was about to step forward—

—then his expression stiffened.

“Wait. That means… I have to kill them myself.”

This wasn’t a game anymore.

He wouldn’t be pressing buttons to make a character attack.

He had to fight in real life.

He had to take lives.

Even if they were monsters, they were still living creatures.

His body tensed as the realization sank in.

“Can I do this?”

It wasn’t the risk of battle that scared him.

If he had been afraid of danger, he would have never stepped through the portal.

But killing something?

Even if goblins were hostile, even if they were humanity’s enemy—

They were still alive.

“Even killing a chicken can be traumatic for some people…”

A grating noise suddenly echoed through the tunnel.

“Kehruk… kehk.”

“Kikikik!”

His breath hitched.

That sound—

Goblins.

Slowly, he pressed his back against the wall, making sure his footsteps were silent.

Carefully, he peeked around the corner.

There they were.

Three goblins.

They shifted cautiously, their small, green bodies squirming as they sniffed the air.

They were alive.

They weren’t just lines of code anymore.

They weren’t data on a screen.

They breathed.

They moved.

They were real.

For a moment, he felt something deep inside him.

And then—

His expression hardened.

“Actually…”

“It’s better if I just kill them all.”

The goblin’s appearance shattered any sense of reverence for life or philanthropic ideals.

Its yellowed, jagged teeth jutted from a twisted face, an elongated hooked nose stretching downward, coated in a thin layer of foul-smelling drool. The grotesque features alone were enough to extinguish even a thousand-year love affair.

What made it worse was the unsettling resemblance to a human—just enough to be disturbing. It wasn’t human, yet it mimicked humanity in its crude features, as if pretending to be something it was not. That, more than anything, made it revolting.

It was just as repulsive as a giant centipede or a grotesque burrowing worm.

Beyond its appearance, its nature seemed just as vile.

From behind cover, he cautiously peered out, watching the goblins.

Chirrrk! Chiiik, chiiik!

“Kikikikik!”

Three goblins huddled in a corner, toying with a rat.

Their thin, gnarled fingers prodded at it with sharpened sticks, pushing into its trembling flesh—piercing just enough to keep it alive.

It was eerily reminiscent of children playing with bugs, only this time, the victim bled, twitching in agony.

“Kihihik! Kihik!”

“Kehehehe!”

To see them laughing so freely while tormenting a dying creature—it was the kind of image that lingered in nightmares.

The moment the rat grew still, losing its ability to react, one of the goblins lost interest and finished it off with a final stab.

Then, as if searching for a new plaything, they began scanning their surroundings.

At that moment, he understood why adventurers in stories never hesitated to kill monsters on sight.

It was not simply a matter of survival—these creatures inspired no sympathy.

They did not kill out of instinct, nor from necessity. They inflicted pain purely for their own amusement.