The Devil's Cage

Chapter 1339 - The Dream of the Weak

Chapter 1339: The Dream of the Weak

Translator: EndlessFantasy Translation Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation

A man must have a dream.

Rorl has his own dream since he was young: to be free from poverty!

He looked down on the family that his parents carefully built. In his view, his family was too broken and inconspicuous.

He should have a better family and a very dazzling, eye-catching identity, not be some nobody.

So, he fought for his dream.

He studied hard in school.

He worked hard after he graduated.

But...

The substantial dream was placed on the bones of reality.

Despite giving it his best effort, he still couldn’t realize his dream. It even became harder for him to maintain the broken family that he always looked down on.

It wasn’t until then that Rorl admitted he was an average person.

He was only himself, a very regular guy. He was almost no different than the other ordinary guys around him, and he might even fall behind a little.

After all, his looks were average, his physique was typical, he was always less popular than those with good looks.

When a junior of his who graduated less than a year after him quickly became the team leader of his group because of the supports he got from the boss, Rorl realized how harsh reality was.

Therefore, Rorl became even more careful, more vigilant, and... he muddled along with his life.

He saw the girl he once liked become another person’s wife.

He saw how his parents got older day by day.

He saw his smile in the mirror that was getting more numb by the day.

He cried, he cried aloud.

Then, he entered the game, a legendary place alleged to be able to change one’s fate.

Using his life to change fate?

Was it fair? It was.

At least this place gave him a chance, he swore he would seize every opportunity he got.

However, after the newbie trials, Rorl realized the harshness of reality again.

The fear of death filled his body, causing him to tremble endlessly.

If it weren’t for the slightest bit of luck, he would have been dead.

Rorl knew it himself.

So when Iron Chariots sent him an invitation to the guild, he joined without a second thought. He also managed to secure the least dangerous position in the guild as well: excavator of maps.

He was tasked to lead the newbies to walk around the edge of the city, expanding the map and taking notes of the terrain. He was paid with little points, similar to how he was doing in the real world.

If it weren’t for the 3 month death period, he would be glad to continue his excavation job.

After all, the pay was twice that of real life! Where could he find a job that could pay double what he was making the real world?

He relied on his accumulation and a little bit of luck to help him go through 4 dungeons despite all the dangers and frights. He wasn’t seeking much in each dungeon world, all he wanted was to clear the main mission.

Naturally, it resulted in his feeble abilities.

Those who entered the game at the same time as him had far surpassed him in progress, even those who came later overtook him by a lot, to the point that Rorl could only catch the dust of their trails.

Some newbies who knew Rorl’s story even looked down on him, showing contempt and disdain.

But, so what?

These people only saw the glorious, bright side of the game.

What about the failures? The losers?

No one would remember those losers and failures who died without an intact body.

Rorl, however, did.

He became even more meticulous and vigilant than before, also if someone provoked him to his face, he’d take it with a smile, living with the code of turning significant problems into little ones, and little one into nothing at all.

Coward!

Useless!

The names were branded on him endlessly, but Rorl turned a deaf ear and blind eye.

As long as he was alive, everything would be fine.

However, one day, his perfect means of living was broken by something.

In the upcoming 5th dungeon, his luck transferred him into the raid group of Iron Chariots. No doubt, it was envious for other people because everyone knew following the raid group to clear dungeons would be a harvest.

Rorl knew it as well. So he tended to be as meticulous and careful as possible, trying his best to make the guild forget his presence. He didn’t want anything unexpected to happen this time.

Of course, providing some offerings and contacting the raid group members, all of the usual procedures were done as well—Rorl offered a part of his previous dungeon rewards and the savings of 3 months for taking the newbies in excavation missions around the city.

Even though he was not willing to offer, it was mandatory.

He did it because he wanted to keep this spot in the raid group and also to try and win favor and help when they entered the dungeon.

Rorl was no longer a newbie, he knew the differences between being helped and being helpless.

At first, the offerings to the raid group member was progressing smoothly, the members also accepted his offerings.

It made Rorl heaved a long sigh of relief, and he’d even started to look forward to the next dungeon world. However, one day, he suddenly noticed the raid group member. He had always given his offerings to started to act weird.

The people tended to ignore him.

No, not ignore; it was like they never met before. Like they never talked before!

But the truth?

When this raid group member was still a newbie, he met Rorl before—Rorl brought him along on the excavation missions, and because of that, Rorl gained the chance of giving his offerings.

Now, this particular raid group member played dumb and acted like a rascal to him, what could he do?

Cry out loud? Shame this raid group member?

No, if he did, he would be the unlucky one in the end.

Just when Rorl was accepting his unlucky fate, he suddenly noticed something weird in the internal group of the guild.

Those members of the guild who liked to tease and mock him suddenly quieted down. They’d even ignore him when Rorl walked past them.

Correct, he was ignored! He was ignored, like how he was ignored by the raid group members.

On top of that, the treatment was spreading among the guild, as well.

One of the newbies that he just led to an excavation mission, who liked to call him as Captain Rorl, started to turn cold and ignore him as well.

More importantly, that particular newbie ignored the others from his same batch as well.

If ignoring Rorl was because he was a coward, then it didn’t make sense for the newbie to ignore his peers.

Doubts appeared in Rorl’s heart.

Just when he was about to ask privately to clear his doubts, he suddenly noticed that the batch of newbies went missing!

Rorl was shocked.

Missing in the big city? What did it mean?

Death!

Newbies dying on a big scale?

The roots of the guild will be shaken!

However, the entire higher rankings of Iron Chariots chose to turn a blind eye to this incident.

Then, Rorl also noticed some new veterans or high rankings members of the guild started to disappear.

Whenever a player went missing, Rorl would be terrified.

He didn’t know when it would be his turn.

Tomorrow? An hour later? Or the very next second?

The wait for death was torturous.

Rorl prepared to save himself.

He quietly contacted Lawless, he let outa piece of fake news.

He wanted to strap the most powerful, most influential player in the big city onto his little chariot.

Naive thoughts? Childish?

So what?

He didn’t want to die, and if he waited, he would.

Taking the risk might ensure his survival, so he had no choice.

After a deep puff, Rorl spat out smoke. The greenish-blue smoke was floating in front of his face and spread throughout the room. The nicotine in the cigarette eased his tensed mental state for a bit, but it wasn’t enough.

Every second for Rorl was torture.

If his room wasn’t forcefully set as a public room to the guild when he joined and unable to revert back to a private room, he swore he would stay in his room and never step out.

Dok Dok Dok.

Knocks came.

“Who is it?”

Rorl was like a frightened rabbit jumping up. He threw away the cigarette and grabbed the gun on the table.

“It’s me, 2567,” the voice outside the door replied coldly.