Dimension Beta

Tom seriously considered the offer. After all, his teacher had mentioned in class that the undead faction offered powerful classes. But several things troubled him.

What would it mean to be his minion? Would it entail following his every command without question? And weren't these the very people planning to attack the city soon? What about his friends in the city? If he switched factions now, wouldn't that mean betraying their trust and turning his back on them?

Tom thought about it for a moment, but after all they had done for him, he couldn't bring himself to betray their trust and kindness.

"I decline," Tom said firmly, looking the man straight in the eye.

"You will regret this," the man said, driving his hand into Tom's chest.

An overwhelming pain coursed through Tom's body like never before. He could feel the man grasping his heart with his cold hands, and as if that wasn't already unbearable, he began squeezing it slowly, torturing him.

"We will meet again, young adventurer," the man said before crushing Tom's heart with his hand.

Tom gasped for air, his breath stolen from him, and before he lost consciousness, he caught a glimpse of a window.

[You got cursed]

[You died]

The next moment, Tom woke up drenched in sweat inside his capsule.

"Warning! Warning! Heart rate abnormally high. It is recommended to temporarily halt gameplay."

The robotic voice of the capsule filled the room. Tom ignored it, got out of the capsule, and threw himself onto the bed.

"What a cluster fuck," he muttered, staring at the ceiling.

His phone started ringing.

Tom saw it was Felix but declined the call. He wasn't in the mood to talk to his friend.

The phone rang again. And again.

By the fourth call, Tom was frustrated and answered with a sharp tone.

"WHAT!?"

"Uh... Hey bro. Look, I'm sorry, okay? I just wanted to…"

Beep beep beep.

Tom hung up and turned off his phone.

Felix was his best friend or maybe his only friend, but Tom was so angry at him that he didn't want to talk. His rage was actually directed at the mysterious man, but how could he take it out on him?

"What was his name again? Lampus... Schampus? No... no... Lampus Gold-digger or something like that."

Tom logged into the forum and searched for keywords like undead faction, man, beautiful, Lampus, and more but found almost nothing.

The posts he came across didn't mention the man he'd encountered in the cave.

"Hmmm… how about that bone monsters," he thought.

He searched for a monster list from the undead faction and quickly found what he was looking for.

"So those things were ghouls, huh," Tom muttered to himself.

They were apparently just a normal race within the undead faction, nothing particularly special. However, it seemed they had the ability to evolve further. Tom's interest was piqued, but further searches yielded no new information.

"I guess rejecting the offer was the right decision… at least I hope it was," Tom thought.

Next, he picked up his phone and dialed a number.

"Hey bro, please don't be mad anymore, I…"

"Listen here, you little shit. Stop yapping and listen. Find someone to go to the tavern in the west district called Drunken Broom and tell the owner that Tom won't make it to work today."

"Hey, what's that about…"

"Did you listen?!"

"Yes, bro, but…"

Beep beep beep. Tom hung up again.

He hoped his friend would at least do him this favor after what had happened. Well, he couldn't entirely blame Felix. After all, how could he have known the mine was a hideout for the undead faction?

There was nothing more Tom could do now, so he decided to go to bed early. Once he woke up the next morning, he could log back in, retrieve his weapons from Stahl, and resume leveling.

"I'll make up for the lost level quickly," he told himself.

But as expected, sleep didn't come easily. He tossed and turned half the night before finally falling asleep around 3 a.m.

When his alarm rang at 10 a.m., he wanted to stay in bed, but seven hours of sleep would have to do. Without eating or getting ready, he jumped straight into his capsule and logged into Beta.

He was greeted by an information window.

[On your last visit you died. As a result, you have lost one level.]

Tom exhaled deeply, looking around. He was in a place that resembled a cathedral, at least on the inside. He remembered reading that players were revived in the nearest cathedral upon death.

He opened his status window next.

[Name: Tom Stein]

[Race: Human]

[Class: Brawler]

[Level: 32]

[Health Points: 1060/1060]

[Mana: 320/320]

[Vitality: 106]

[Strength: 106]

[Dexterity: 64]

[Intelligence: 22]

[Wisdom: 22]

[Level 10 Skills: Beginner Brawler's Stance, Punching Fury]

[Status Effects: The Curse of Flesh – Your flesh makes you weak and hinders your growth. All stats reduced by 30%.]

[Free Stat Points: 10]

"What the fuck is this shit!" Tom screamed at the top of his lungs.

"Is this supposed to be a joke?! How am I supposed to keep leveling with this curse?!"

He immediately logged out and went back to the forum to search for information about the curse. He found posts quickly, but what he read made his world crumble.

MussySlayer69:

Guys, I fought someone from the undead faction and lost. When I revived, I got this curse. Screenshot attached. How do I get rid of it?

Mongoose8321310:

Sorry to tell you, bro, but you can't. That's permanent.

MussySlayer69:

What?! You gotta be kidding me!

Mongoose8321310:

Well, you could probably seek out a high priest from the Church of Light. But they'd likely ask for a few million gold coins.

MussySlayer69:

Are you shitting me? That's like ten years of my salary!

Mongoose8321310:

Exactly. That's why I said it's permanent. Alternatively, you could join the undead faction. Then you could find the person who cursed you, ask them to remove it, or switch your race to something like Skeleton Warrior or Ghoul. The curse will naturally vanish then.

The post continued, but Tom sank into his chair, completely drained of energy.

He had been played. And his enemy wasn't even his equal, he was leagues above him.

Tom continued scrolling through the forum, but every post he found boiled down to the same two suggestions: pay a few million gold or join the undead faction.

"Should I ask my mom?" he wondered. "No, I can't ask her to fork up this kind of money. She might do something reckless, like taking on debt to help me."

"Maybe my teacher has an answer," he thought. "But that'll have to wait until Monday... that's two more days."

"I could at least ask around in Beta while I wait for Monday."

Tom logged back into the game, finding himself still in the cathedral.

He decided to head to the blacksmith to pick up his weapons. At least something good could come out of today, he thought.

On the way there, he noticed the curse wasn't just a stat debuff. It also affected his movement speed. He was much slower than usual and took nearly ten extra minutes to reach the blacksmith.

When he finally arrived, he headed straight for the basement. Stahl was hammering away at a horseshoe when he heard Tom approach.

"Ah, you're here, lad... I was starting to…"

In the next moment, Stahl's words caught in his throat, and the hammer fell from his hand, clattering loudly on the stone floor. A tense silence filled the room.

Tom, confused, stepped closer. "Stahl, what's…"

"STOP RIGHT THERE!" Stahl shouted.

Tom froze, bewildered. "What's going on?" he asked, his confusion written all over his face.

Stahl pointed a trembling finger at Tom's chest. "Why... why are you cursed?"

Tom looked down and for the first time noticed what Stahl was referring to. Horror washed over him as he saw that the area where his heart was supposed to be was now a decaying mass of rotting flesh. Panicked, Tom tore off his vest, revealing that the rotten flesh extended across his entire left chest and up to his shoulder.

"Holy shit!" Tom yelled, his voice shaking.

"What happened to you, boy?" Stahl asked, his voice full of fear.

Tom didn't hide anything. He explained everything about his encounter with the vampire in the cave.

Only after hearing the full story did Stahl start to calm down slightly.

"Damn, you're unlucky, boy! You got cursed by a vampire."

"A vampire?" Tom asked, still processing everything.

"Yes. They're one of the strongest races in the undead faction and rule over the undead. Well, they're undead themselves, to be precise."

Things started to make sense for Tom. The man in the cave had controlled the ghouls using his racial abilities.

"Do you have any idea what I can do, old man?"

"Hell if I know. I'm a blacksmith, not a priest!"

"Sorry. It was dumb of me to ask," Tom said, his voice filled with disappointment.

Stahl noticed his harsh tone and realized he'd overreacted. He was in shock, sure, but the young man in front of him was the one carrying the curse.

"Listen, boy. I can't help you with the curse, but I can help you in another way." He grabbed a cloth from behind him and tossed it to Tom. "Catch!"

Tom caught it and asked, "Are these my…?"

"Exactly. Your weapons. Don't let this curse get you down, lad. These weapons will help you regain your former strength."

Tom unwrapped the cloth, revealing two brass knuckles. His eyes widened as he inspected them.

[Rare Brass Knuckles (Left Hand)]

Damage: +30-40

Gain a 1% attack speed bonus for every hit. Stacks up to 100 times.

[Rare Brass Knuckles (Right Hand)]

Damage: +30-40

Gain a shield equal to 10% of the damage dealt with every hit.

Tom could hardly believe his eyes. The weapons were more than overpowered. Their effects complemented each other perfectly.

"Stahl, you're a genius!" Tom exclaimed and moved toward him for a hug.

But Stahl recoiled, stepping back.

"Oh... sorry, man. I don't think I'm contagious, but you can keep your distance if you want."

"Sorry, lad... it's just...."

Tom didn't hold it against him. In the next moment, Stahl tossed him a sack of gold. "Here's your payment for the ore. Eight thousand gold coins."

Tom pocketed the gold and bid Stahl farewell. There was no point in staying any longer.

As he walked outside, he pulled an old T-shirt from his spatial pouch and put it on. He wanted to avoid causing any more panic.