An Endless Journey Into Another World

1

The city of New Valora was alive that night, buzzing with the hum of neon lights and the muffled thump of distant music pouring out from bars into the cold air. My boots clicked unevenly against the pavement, tipsy enough to feel invincible, but not quite drunk—just that sweet spot where everything feels manageable, even when it's not.

I couldn't wait to get home. All I could think about was checking on my character—hopefully, it leveled up while I had it AFK all day. All that grinding better pay off. I need to stay top 1 globally. Besides, I had a ton of resources to deal with. That was the plan: log in, read a few chapters of a novel, maybe catch up on some anime, and forget the real world for a while. And here I am, stumbling through an alley like I'm in some cliché RPG.

"Maybe I should've stopped after the second glass," I muttered, pulling my leather jacket tighter. The cold was biting, cutting through the fabric like needles, the wind slicing through every layer. My fingers numbed, and for a moment, it felt like the cold was reaching through my clothes to my bones. I adjusted my pace, each step heavier as the pavement seemed to stretch longer.

My short, wavy black hair caught the breeze, reflecting the neon signs glowing overhead. I could feel the slight weight of drowsiness tugging at me, my black eyes framed by dark circles from too many late nights. I wasn't exactly a mess, but my fitted black suit had seen better days—wrinkled and a little rumpled from the night out. At least my white blouse was still tucked in, and my leather briefcase felt reassuringly heavy in my grip, a reminder of all the responsibilities waiting for me back at my rundown apartment.

God, I'm so tired. I worked all these hours, barely scraping by, still sending half my paycheck to my parents because it's "family tradition." What's left? Just enough for me to survive. It felt like I was living paycheck to paycheck, treading water while everyone else swam. I couldn't even stress anymore; I was just... done.

Home wasn't far. Just a quick walk, and I'd be curled up under a blanket, pretending tomorrow wouldn't be another soul-sucking day at my dead-end job. I longed for the escape of my games, where victory felt within reach, unlike my reality. For now, I tried to enjoy the quiet, breathing in the crisp night air. The streets were empty, peaceful even, the silence wrapping around me like a warm hug, if only for a moment.

My breath clouded in the air, and for just a second, the street lights above flickered, casting long shadows that crawled along the ground. I blinked hard. Probably just my eyes playing tricks. But there was something about the silence—the absence of sound between the beats of music—that felt... wrong. Unnatural.

As I turned the corner, a chill swept through the air, unsettling and palpable. Two figures loomed ahead, leaning against the crumbling wall of a building, their postures too relaxed to be innocent. I slowed my pace, my heart racing as unease coiled in my stomach like a tight knot.

"Not tonight. Just keep walking," I whispered to myself, forcing my feet to move forward. It felt like a weak attempt at bravery, a flimsy shield against the encroaching dread.

But then they stepped into my path, blocking my way. I halted, pulse quickening, and instinctively took a step back. They were rough-looking, both of them. The taller guy sported a jagged scar down his cheek, eyes gleaming with a predatory glint. The shorter one was stocky, his grin twisted in a way that made my stomach churn.

"Well, well," Scarface sneered. "What's a pretty thing like you doing out here all alone?"

I gripped the strap of my bag tighter, a reflexive move to protect myself. Fantastic. Of all the alleys, I had to choose this one.

"Just heading home, no trouble here, right?" I tried to sound calm, but the tremor in my voice betrayed my fear. Couldn't they just let me be?

The shorter guy laughed, a sharp, cruel sound that echoed in the silence. "No trouble at all... unless you make it."