My first battlefield was an unbroken chain of absurdities that shattered everything I thought I knew.

No matter how optimally I built my deck or how advantageously I positioned my champions, a single core item with insane performance or a champion that defied all classification could completely unravel the entire board.

‘If only I’d had even one item combination formula.’

The one thing I needed was a single item combination formula.

Even if I’d had something like the Dawn’s Dawn that Hans received, I could have found some kind of answer.

“Phew—”

Still, coming in second place was a decent enough result.

The victory condition for battlefields allowed up to fourth place, and it wasn’t like I could win first in every single match.

The reason I was wearing such a sour expression wasn’t because of that.

It was only after experiencing this battlefield that I finally realized what I had done.

Even with a type disadvantage, Hans had managed to take first place—beating competitors who actually possessed combination formulas despite having none himself.

A deck management strategy capable of bridging the gap created by item combination formulas?

It was information of incomparable value—far beyond what the Dawn’s Dawn formula could offer.

Battlefields couldn’t be spectated, which meant only the player themselves knew the process of building their deck.

If he’d only done it once, I could have chalked it up to luck. But he had stubbornly stuck to assassins from the preliminaries through the finals and still claimed first place…

It was tantamount to announcing to the entire world that he possessed a perfectly refined management strategy.

Neither I nor Hans had properly grasped just how valuable a solid management strategy could be—that was the root of the problem.

It meant that Hans dying because of the information I shared was hardly surprising.

If anything, I wished Hans had leaked the information.

It wasn’t that important a secret to me anyway.

‘Let it go for now.’

I couldn’t spend forever just worrying about it.

I couldn’t stay cooped up in my room every single day—I needed to do what needed to be done.

Creak-!

I threw on a freshly laundered linen shirt and stepped out onto the streets.

Yukantar’s streets were already bustling with people despite the early morning.

‘Well, I made it outside, but I have no idea where to go for settlement.’

I was registered with the shieldbearer Guild, so I could get help if I found a branch—but I was still unfamiliar with Yukantar’s geography, and had no choice but to wander the streets aimlessly.

‘Where am I?’

Following the flow of foot traffic, I eventually found myself in some alley.

The buildings lining the alley had various emblems mounted out front, and a few of them looked familiar.

‘Faction headquarters?’

Sword emblems, hammer emblems, human emblems—a diverse array of symbols adorned the street, and I recognized a few from the ones I’d seen near the train station.

But you know what they say—you see what you’re looking for.

“That one, maybe?”

As a shieldbearer myself, it was only natural that the familiar shield emblem on one of the buildings caught my eye.

***

The Steel Shield—a faction of shieldbearers boasting a proud history and tradition.

Steel Shield was what the shieldbearer Guild in Trivik had transformed into after going through a localization process.

Though now a fully independent organization separate from the shieldbearer Guild, its origins as a guild chapter meant it maintained stricter hierarchy and rules compared to other factions.

Having been established in Trivik for quite some time, it ranked 15th in the faction rankings—a solid standing.

If you were a shieldbearer in Trivik, you were almost certainly part of Steel Shield.

Mr. Hughes, a proud member of the Steel Shield faction, had been nursing a headache since morning—all because someone had shown up out of nowhere spouting nonsense.

“You’re asking if you can get your settlement processed?”

‘All you have to do is go to a settlement office. What kind of bastard makes a request like this?’

It was a refreshingly novel brand of lunatic he’d never encountered before.

Hughes’s eyes darted rapidly as he tried to read the man’s intentions.

Both eyes shimmered with mana—the very skill he was grateful for, the one that had earned him his position here.

Magic power? Strength? Nothing about the man stood out.

‘Is this some kind of spy sent from another faction?’

Judging by his appearance, he looked like he was trying to make a fool of him, dressed in bizarre clothing to boot.

It was irritating.

Making him waste mana for no reason this early in the morning.

The rough nature he’d developed through his years as a champion nearly surfaced—

But he’d since moved to an administrative role, which meant he needed to handle this wisely.

Someone could have sent this fool specifically to provoke a reaction from him.

Still, he couldn’t completely mask his feelings—his expression hardened despite himself.

“Does Steel Shield look like a joke to you? Well, you’re free to make requests, so I won’t say anything about that—but at the very least, you should present yourself properly before coming here. Since you can’t, be on your way.”

Hughes, his brow deeply furrowed, waved his hand as if shooing away a bug and issued his dismissal.

***

Boom-!

The moment I stepped outside the building, the heavy wooden door crashed shut behind me.

“… …”

I stared at the firmly closed door and scowled.

‘What’s that guy’s problem? He works at a shieldbearer Guild, for crying out loud.’

Was there a dress code for conducting business at the shieldbearer Guild now?

Compared to the warm-hearted folks in Luteran, Yukantar was not a city that endeared itself easily.

‘I’ll let it slide just this once.’

I wanted nothing more than to spit on that door, but fearing the consequences, I had no choice but to turn on my heel.

Chatter- chatter-!

Yukantar’s streets were incredibly lively even in the early morning.

Yukantar was a city that never stopped moving, and for those who worked through the night, this was prime time.

With plenty of bars and shops opening to cater to that crowd, the city’s lights never went out, 24 hours a day—one of the charms of Trivik’s eastern region.

But that wasn’t always a good thing.

“Kahaha, that guy’s a real piece of work. Have a drink first!”

“Right! So, kya! Let me tell you what I did there—this guy! I’m like, do you know who I am? Just stay put! And I glare at them, and they’re all ‘w-who are you, sir?’ shaking in their boots…”

In other words, the city was noisy around the clock, and if your lifestyle didn’t match the rhythm, you were in for a rough time.

My lodging had decent soundproofing, so I hadn’t noticed—but if I moved to a cheaper place, a stretch of suffering would be waiting for me.

‘Drinking first thing in the morning. These folks have energy to spare.’

An unfamiliar street, a short distance from my lodging.

The outdoor tables of a bar were packed with people, their faces flushed red—clearly they’d been pouring drinks since dawn.

I had the kind of timid personality that drained my energy just being around boisterous people, so I kept my eyes down and tried to pass quietly.

This was a lesson I’d learned from life on the streets: drunkards had anger management issues, and sometimes they’d pick fights over nothing more than a glance, so my plan was to ignore them and walk past.

“Hm?”

But had my flashy fashion drawn their attention? The bastards had stopped mid-conversation and were staring at the back of my head.

I had no desire to deal with drunks, so I tried to hurry past—

But when I saw something flying toward me, I had no choice but to hastily dodge.

Jingle-!

A bottle that had contained something transparent shattered against the ground.

Its contents were nothing other than water.

Then came the sound of mockery.

“Hey, you looked filthy so I gave you some water to wash with—why’d you go and break the bottle? Do you have any idea how much that cost?”

“Hahahahaha—”

They were making fun of my skin color.

Fucking racists.

They’d probably thrown the water bottle because the booze was too expensive.

In Luteran, I’d sorted out the hierarchy enough that I hadn’t heard this kind of talk for a while. Hearing it again after so long brought back fresh memories.

“Hey, what the hell are you staring at? You got money to pay for that? Huh?”

‘What kind of day is today?’

I wondered if I looked like an easy target—and honestly, I was—so I figured I’d just stepped in bad luck.

Street life had trained me well enough to tell at a glance whether these guys were the real deal or just small-timers blowing hot air.

They were small-timers, sure enough…

But they were bigger small-timers than me.

Even so, I had something called ‘pride.’

I’d fought tooth and nail to earn my champion qualification, determined not to live being looked down on everywhere I went. I’d died dozens of times to save up 100 gold and learn a skill.

I’d let it slide once, but my patience wasn’t good enough to let it slide twice.

Which meant my actions now were entirely justified.

Crash-!

“You dog-chewed-gum-looking bastards, picking a fight first thing in the morning. You want to know how much it cost? Even if you cut off your necks and sold them, you wouldn’t scrape together that kind of money. You pieces of trash.”

“…”

The neatly arranged food and liquor bottles on the table went crashing onto the street, and the bustling streets of Yukantar fell dead silent in an instant.

The men wore dumbfounded expressions, struggling to process what had just happened—then, as the situation finally dawned on them, their faces turned crimson with rage.

“Hahahahaha— Yeah, nice! Fight! Fight!”

The other patrons at the bar erupted in laughter, as if they’d stumbled upon some delightful entertainment.

The City of Struggle, Trivik.

Here, a brawl like this was nothing out of the ordinary.

“You just—”

The instigators, fuming, tried to say something, but I had zero intention of listening.

‘You picked the wrong guy, you bastards.’

For the first time in a while, I felt like I’d reverted to my pre-champion days. Dopamine and adrenaline surged to the top of my skull.

Having already crossed the line, striking first was mandatory.

Weapons weren’t permitted within city limits, which made bare-knuckle brawling an essential survival skill—and among weaklings, whoever landed the first blow decided the outcome.

<<Solid Exoskeleton>>

As I activated the skill, invisible mana enveloped me, producing the effect of wearing gauntlets and armor.

Fighting normally, it was two against one—there was no way I could win.

So I was going to wreck exactly one of them. The one who’d thrown the water bottle and run his filthy mouth first.

“Huh?”

Crash-!

I grabbed the man in a bear hug. He tried to brace his legs and resist, but whether due to the alcohol, he couldn’t keep his balance and went crashing onto the bare ground.

“You son of a—help me!”

Clench.

“I’m not letting go!”

At his desperate plea, his companion tried to pull me off, but I clung to the man with no intention of letting go.

Then I started swinging fists at his face.

Thwack- thwack-!

“Fucking. Bastard. Who. Do. You. Think. You. Are.”

“You little—!”

At that moment, a sharp pain shot through my back.

The fact that I felt pain meant my skill—Solid Exoskeleton—had been shattered.

Thanks to my mana efficiency of 0, the skill operated at the worst possible efficiency. A single mana-infused kick was all it took to render it completely useless.

Crash-!

The powerful impact sent me tumbling across the ground.

My freshly laundered linen shirt was stained once more with spilled liquor, food, and the dirt and dust of the street.

It felt like bones were broken—every breath came with pain—but compared to what I experienced in the battlefield, this was nothing.

<<Solid Exoskeleton>>

I activated the skill once more, and my entire body grew heavy, as if waterlogged.

I was now dangerously close to mana exhaustion.

But I crawled toward him anyway.

Thwack- thwack-!

“P-please… stop.”

The man, his face already swollen beyond recognition, began to beg and plead.

I ignored him and kept swinging, until eventually the faint groans coming from him fell silent altogether.

“Ooh—what a vicious bastard.”

The onlookers shook their heads, seemingly appalled by my method of relentlessly pounding just one guy.

Crash-!

But the exoskeleton shattered once more.

I lay on the cold ground, staring blankly at the sky. I couldn’t move anymore either.

Pain radiated through my entire body, my arms and legs had no strength left, and mana exhaustion made it hard just to stay conscious.

Still, I was satisfied.

I’d succeeded in making the one who touched me pay the price.

This was how I’d lived in this world.

“This bastard hurt our boss!”

‘Well, I guess getting my ass kicked is all that’s left now.’

As a 1-Cost Shieldbearer, I was already well-versed in the art of taking hits without feeling too much pain.

But the best method, as always, was simply not getting hit in the first place.

“One gold coin…!”

“…?”

The moment I blurted out those unexpected words, every onlooker’s gaze snapped toward me.

I tensed my stomach and shouted as loudly as I could. So that everyone could hear.

“Help me, and I’ll give you one gold coin! That guy. Just beat that guy to a pulp!”

My finger pointed at a man wearing a panicked expression.

Most of them looked skeptical, but—

Rattle-!

“For real? Hehe— you sure spend like you fight, huh.”

“Hey—brother, if this is a lie, you won’t be walking away from here in one piece either.”

One gold coin was free money up for grabs—nothing ventured, nothing gained, right? With that logic, people began rising from their seats one by one.

“Hah— I haven’t seen your face around these parts. Can’t have a traveler going home with bad memories of Yukantar. I’ll lend a hand.”

‘Ooh, look at them lining up. Not bad.’

Eyes brimming with greed.

Anyone drinking at a bar this early in the morning most likely worked the night shift.

Which meant they knew how to throw a punch.

As people began closing in, the thug started backing away.

“W-wait! Are you seriously believing that? You think a guy dressed in those tacky clothes actually has a gold coin?”

A few people hesitated at those words, but—

Have you ever heard of the Rule of Three?

It means that when three or more people perform the same action, a group dynamic forms and lends momentum to that action.

“If he doesn’t have one, we can shake him down and squeeze out at least one gold coin somehow. Hehe—”

I would never have stepped forward if the risk had seemed too great.

But they’d watched with their own eyes as a frail-looking guy like me had nearly beaten a man to a pulp right in front of them—which also gave them firsthand experience of just how pathetic these thugs really were.

That was why I’d gritted my teeth and focused on destroying just one of them.

‘Fun when it was two-on-one, wasn’t it, you bastard?’

Flop-!

I lay spread-eagled, watching the clouds drift across the sky.

‘Feels good to use my body after so long.’

I must have been accumulating stress without realizing it. After a good brawl, I felt inexplicably refreshed.

On the cool breeze came the sound of the thug’s screams.

Swish-

What filled my vision next was someone’s shadow.

For a moment, my heart sank.

It could be a vagrant approaching to rob me.

I’d just advertised that I had money, so while everyone was distracted beating on the thug, it wouldn’t be strange at all for someone to try to lay hands on me.

I struggled to lift my head and looked up at the owner of the shadow.

Someone who had approached with their face hidden beneath a thick robe.

“Wait—I don’t have it on me right now, it’s in my account—”

I opened my mouth desperately, searching for a way out, but from within the robe came a voice filled with ecstasy.

“Finally found you.”

“…!”

They say when it rains, it pours.

“Shieldbearer Lee Shin.”

I think I’m well and truly fucked.