Novice Village
1921 Words
Lyra Hallowell carefully examined her character information panel, scrolling up and down, making sure not to miss any hidden systems. Eventually, she only managed to uncover the backpack section, which was still locked.
She could tell that her backpack already had many slots unlocked, filled to the brim with items and tools. However, from top to bottom, aside from the first page and first row, all the other slots were locked.
After repeatedly clicking, the system, unsurprisingly, displayed a prompt.
“Permission restricted, backpack locked. Additional dungeon completions will gradually unlock the slots.”
It was only then that Lyra noticed the number at the top of the bright screen showing “5,” likely representing the number of dungeons her account had completed so far. Meanwhile, above the dimmed section of the screen, two large question marks appeared.
Lyra frowned. The two question marks indicated that the dungeon completion count displayed on the gray character panel might be a double-digit number.
However, Lyra was now certain that the account she was using was not a beginner's account.
She checked the items in her backpack, and the only usable ones were the five available slots in the first row of the first page.
They were:
- 100 Small Blue Potions
- 5 Large Blue Potions
- 1 Super Large Blue Potion
- 1 Lottery Ticket
- 1 Worn Cross
Upon examining each item, their descriptions were as follows:
- Small Blue Potion: Restores 10 mental points when consumed.
- Large Blue Potion: Restores 100 mental points when consumed.
- Super Large Blue Potion: Restores 1000 mental points when consumed.
- Lottery Ticket: Can be used in the dungeon shop.
- Worn Cross: Beginner's equipment for healers.
Since there was equipment, Lyra figured there must be a character equipment section, and she silently uttered the command to open the equipment panel. Sure enough, the character equipment section appeared.
There were six equipment slots: Main Weapon, Sub Weapon, Headpiece, Armor, Shoes, and Accessories. Lyra’s equipment section was completely empty. After equipping the Worn Cross, its stats were displayed:
Worn Cross: Increases player’s health by 1 point and mental points by 1 point.
It was no surprise that the Worn Cross provided such minimal stats. It didn’t make much of a difference whether it was equipped or not. The only real purpose was that without equipping it, Lyra wouldn’t be able to activate any skills.
After thoroughly exploring the character information panel, Lyra exited the screen.
Her account was somewhat special—many parts of the character panel were hidden or restricted, probably unlocking gradually as she completed more dungeons.
When Lyra exited the character panel, her system assistant, Mo Mo, cheerfully approached her and asked, "Lyra, do you want to enter a dungeon now?"
Lyra looked at Mo Mo with an expression that spoke volumes. Ever since she entered this game, her mind had never stopped working. It felt like while others were playing a battle royale game, she was playing an upgraded version of a mystery-solving escape game, with the difficulty ramped up drastically.
Entering a dungeon was impossible at this moment—at least not with all these unknown variables. Going into a dungeon now would be like asking for death.
Fortunately, Mo Mo was her exclusive system assistant. Even though Mo Mo’s words couldn't always be trusted, since Lyra knew nothing about the game at this point, she could still look for clues within the assistant's scope of authority.
Thinking of this, Lyra circled around Mo Mo and said, "Not right now. I have a few questions to ask you. First, does every player get a system assistant?"
The words “exclusive assistant” had always intrigued Lyra, especially after seeing her baffling character information panel. She was now very sensitive to the word “exclusive.”
"Of course not," Mo Mo answered decisively. "Only specific players get an exclusive assistant."
As expected, if every player had an exclusive assistant, there would have been no need for a beginner's tutorial.
"Then what are the conditions for binding an exclusive assistant?"
"Permission restricted, no answer~" Mo Mo replied with a sultry tone that made Lyra’s forehead twitch in frustration. She could already imagine that most of their future conversations would be filled with such "permission restricted" responses, each with that tantalizing drawl.
Lyra Hallowell took a moment to calm herself, then weighed her options and picked out a few questions that might fall within Mo Mo’s authority.
“In the scope of your permissions, please answer any dungeon-related questions you can,” she said, confident this loophole would force Mo Mo to spill useful information.
Mo Mo chirped out the details:
“Each player may attempt a dungeon only once per month. Dungeon time limits vary. Upon clearing a dungeon, you gain one dungeon completion credit. If you fail to clear it, you lose 1 life point and can reset your memory to retry. Each player starts with 10 life points; losing them all results in real-world death. In-game rewards include skill points, gold, score points, and items.”
Lyra waited, but Mo Mo fell silent. She raised an eyebrow. “That’s it?”
“That’s all I can tell you~” came the playful reply.
Lyra snorted. Typical system—no real substance. She thought about one more crucial question.
“When I’m not doing dungeons, can I return to the real world?”
“Nope. The real world is frozen; everyone is in a deep sleep. After you leave a dungeon, you’ll be sent to the Player City.”
Just as she’d suspected. Mo Mo had told her when she first logged in that only 100,001,000 players had been loaded into the game; the rest of humanity lay comatose. If nobody ever finishes the game, humanity is doomed.
Wait—why exactly 100,001,000? What was with that extra thousand? Lyra pressed the question, hoping Mo Mo’s vague permissions wouldn’t block it—but Mo Mo outdid itself this time.
“You’ve reached your query limit for today. Until you clear the next dungeon, Mo Mo can’t answer anything else~”
Lyra stared in disbelief. So that’s the catch: Mo Mo has a daily question cap. Not exactly a reliable assistant.
Defeated, she realized there was no point staying in the same spot. Mo Mo had said players would be sent to Player City whenever they weren’t in a dungeon. That sounded like a safer bet than exploring lethal dungeons, so she decided to check it out.
“Okay, I don’t want to enter a dungeon right now. Teleport me to Player City.”
“Sure thing~ Please enter the teleport command.”
Lyra had the command memorized by now. She thought it, felt a dizzying spin, and then her feet touched solid ground. Around her stretched a hazy landscape, and directly ahead stood a stone monument engraved with “Novice Village.”
She walked a bit farther and spotted a building labeled “Tavern.” Thinking to reconnoiter, she approached the tavern’s front doors—but an invisible barrier repelled her. A prompt popped up:
“Area level below 2: this region is inaccessible.”
“Area level? What’s that?” Lyra groaned. Surely Player City wasn’t off-limits—but permission restrictions were everywhere. Today she’d been beaten down by enough of those four dreaded words.
Undeterred, she wandered randomly, passing shops for equipment, flowers, an auction house, and the Novice Village Market—only to find each entrance blocked by an “Area level too low” notice. Some even required level 5.
What did “area level” even mean? Without the newbie tutorial, Lyra was clueless. After a long circuit, she finally reached an inn that welcomed her in.
Before she could catch her breath, the innkeeper shattered any remaining hope with a cheerful greeting:
“Welcome! A standard single room is 1 gold per week; the deluxe single is 50 gold per day. Would you like to check in?”
Lyra’s empty wallet glaring at her—zero in the gold column—she nearly spat blood in frustration.
Fine, this inn wasn't worth staying in anyway.
Lyra Hallowell rubbed her nose, hastily retreating under the innkeeper's bemused gaze until she found herself standing outside.
The Starter Village lay completely deserted, with no players in sight. Everyone must be in their instances already.
Mo Mo had mentioned that instances dropped gold coins. It seemed the tutorial had directed players straight into instances. Only an oddball like herself – the one who'd skipped the tutorial prompts – would end up sightseeing in the player city.
Though why was the player city called "Starter Village"? Were there other zones beyond this?
Too many questions, zero answers.
Lyra sighed and input the command.
"Enter instance."
A mechanical ding-dong sounded.
"Player #7 Lyra Hallowell requesting instance entry. Searching for available instances..."
"Instance loaded. Player #7 Lyra Hallowell, confirm entry?"
Drawing a deep breath, Lyra stated: "Confirm."
She dissolved into golden light particles before her next heartbeat.
"Player #7 Lyra Hallowell entering instance: Plants vs. Zombies. Please check instance information and await game start."
Having been teleported half a dozen times today, Lyra was becoming numb to the process. When the system chime prompted her to open her eyes, she found herself facing an eerily familiar setup.
Plants vs. Zombies! She knew this game inside out!
Back in her sophomore year when this game took campuses by storm, Lyra and her three roommates had practically lived in its pixelated world between classes. Who could've imagined she'd get to experience a real-life version now?
The red-roofed, yellow-walled villa stood exactly like the game version. Five lanes stretched before it, each with ten planting slots. At the end of every lane floated a pink brain-shaped balloon – clearly representing the zombies' coveted prize.
Lyra tentatively poked a balloon. The instant her finger made contact, white-hot pain lanced through her neural pathways. She recoiled violently, needing several seconds to regain her composure.
The deceptively cute aesthetics hid brutal mechanics – damage to these "brains" translated directly to player agony. Just a touch caused neural fireworks. Lyra shuddered to imagine the pain if zombies actually devoured all five balloons.
With no idea how long the preparation phase lasted, Lyra hurriedly pulled up the instance info:
Instance Name: Plants vs. Zombies
Duration: 3 days
Description: Day/night cycle includes afternoon phase. Collect sunlight through standard drops and Sunflower cultivation. Use sunlight to purchase defensive plants.
Contains 15 zombie types: XXXXXXXXX [REDACTED]
Lyra stared at the censored page, had no energy left to even feel despair.
She'd known the system was cruel, but this exceeded her worst expectations. The promised "instance introduction" was just rows of blacked-out text. Survival odds looked grim, but she'd keep fighting the system's tyranny regardless.
The missing information likely connected to that "system easter egg" in her skill panel. The easter egg mentioned trading incomplete intel per instance for critical secrets. From now on, every instance briefing would probably be this gutted – forcing her to improvise step by step.
Still, any secret worth this heavy price must be invaluable. The system had even warned that sharing required caution. Could this intel become her bargaining chip for greater advantages?
As Lyra pondered, the mechanical voice abruptly announced:
"Game start."
She shrugged. With intel this fragmented, staring at redacted text wouldn't help. Might as well begin.
The iconic Plants vs. Zombies theme music began playing as golden sunlight particles materialized above the lawn.
- Writer
