Don't Let Yourself Go

The inscription had three sides, and its height was almost twice the height of an average person, and I knew that I had to start reading in no time.

"You did not appreciate the opportunity presented to you, and now you will be punished in the land of Hell!"

There was only one sentence written on the side I started reading, and it was straightforward, we had reached our eternal home as sinners. I was nailed to where I was; I remember seeing the results of all my actions once again, but nothing was clear in my mind. I wanted to scream out that I'm not an evil person.

'Don't let yourself go' was my motto. I had to cope no matter what, get used to the new situation, and survive. In the remaining two directions, I began to take small steps to look at the one on the left for me.

It would take me about five minutes to cover the ten paces, and since everyone who had managed to get up was here, I struggled to get there.

"The Creator forgives servants and rewards those who do well!"

Come on! This façade, written in a single sentence after what I had just read, gave the news that would make hope bloom in me. Wasn't this quite a coincidence, had I chosen two successive fronts by luck?

It was effortless to find out. All I had to do was tap the shoulder of the burly man standing next to me and ask.

"Wrestler, what does it say here?"

The word Wrestler was written on the head of this middle-aged person, who was a little small compared to his body and had lost all his hair on his head.

"You did not appreciate the opportunity presented to you, and now you will be punished in the land of Hell!"

I could barely catch the whispered words coming out of his lips without getting mixed up in the air, the man who answered my question said what was written in the first part I looked at.

He didn't say another word, and, judging by the color of his face and the dulling of his movements, he was experiencing the shock I had just experienced. The exciting thing is, why did he read the sentence that should have been on the other side while I saw another article?

There could only be one explanation: wherever you looked at this inscription, you had to proceed in a predetermined order. I walked calmly and slowly towards the last place with no intention of disturbing the inevitable order.

It was futile to hurry, and I walked among the people, looking around with blank eyes. Those moments when I was unaware of the surprise that awaited me would perhaps be the most carefree moments of my time here.

"First Floor of Hell!"

With the help of bright red letters at the top, the three big words shone madly even in the daytime sun, and they gave me the impression that they would devour me if I were distracted for a moment. I would see a list of four topics waiting for me when I got rid of the pressure that had formed on me by sliding my eyes down a little.

"In the First Floor of Hell, the concept of time will be the same as the world in which you died!"

"Since stepping inside this sanctuary, you must kill your level of Fallen every day!"

"In case of failure, you will be sentenced to eight hours of Hell Torment!"

"All the answers are inside the Fallen outside the sanctuary, go and face your mistakes!"

It was almost as if the point was not fully explained, these were the laws of the area we were in, and it was clearly stated what would happen to us if we did not keep up. I could tell from the changing facial expressions of those who read the same things as me, and it was not clear when we got here, and we could access all other information when we killed the first mob.

Even though I wasn't a hardcore MMORPG player, I had a good grasp of the basics. If this is the starting village, plenty of weak creatures should be nearby. All I had to do was jump out of the shield that surrounded the entire area and attack the first one I caught my eye, but as a thought popped into my head halfway through, I threw the idea away.

Usually, the first village would have been built in areas where neither rival players nor aggressive creatures were present; what use was this shield if that were the case. Moreover, where we were was not a virtual platform where a company tried to entertain people for the sake of making money, but the First Floor of Hell, where we were sent to be punished for our sins.

Although I didn't know how much time I had left to avoid the daily penalty, I needed to rush; even if it was short, I could have stopped and let others do the first try. Accelerating again, I came to the bottom of the shield and sat on the ground calmly, my intention to watch the movements of the others while pretending not to have complete control of my body yet.

No one had come out of my area yet, and there was no activity outside the ice-blue barrier; if I didn't know where I was, I might want to enjoy the silence with a book and coffee.

Then, the shape of the dust cloud created by the crowd at full throttle, reminiscent of the skirts of a flamenco dancer in a flirtatious manner, informed me that this place would soon be mixed.

People did not stop. They jumped out of the shield in fear and panic. I did not know whether to laugh or cry on this situation; These people, who had been in a relaxed mode in the face of the eternal threat of Hell not so long ago, were now going like amok runners towards an unknown as soon as they were tortured for eight hours a day.

As nearly half their total number of people came out, some shadows began to appear out of nowhere in what had previously been a desolate void? A moment later, the shape-shifting silhouettes were all flat from where the shield started.

They had spawned at not too far distances from each other, their total number several times greater than the people outside the shield at the moment. I didn't have to wait any longer; as I jumped out of my seat, I went to the bottom of the ice-blue light curtain and began to examine what was going on closely.

My first impression would be not from my eyes, one of my five senses, but rather from my nose, which does not smell very well. A thick smell of alcohol was coming from the heart of the anise orchards, and the warm breeze was licking my face like my teacher's slap on my cheek as a warning when I made a small mistake.

It was after I shook my head that I came to my senses. No matter what, I had to stare and watch; it was eight hours of Hell Torture.

I turned my gaze to these creatures, the last variable who joined us. My expectation was beings with horns, tails, and bloody weapons in their hands. The inscription mentioned this place as the First Floor of Hell; wouldn't it be a great optimism to expect less after reading this?

While all my thoughts were drawing the possible shapes of the mobs, I would see in my brain the strangest and tragicomic thing that could happen. I don't need to explain this at length, and it would be enough if I just told you the names written on the creatures.

"Tipsy LVL 1"

"Drunk LVL 1"

"Alcoholic LVL 1"

At first, I thought that the reason for the smell of alcohol in my nose was a reminder of the last sin that I committed and that caused me to fall here, but now the truth of the matter was clearly in front of my eyes.

A group of red-nosed, disheveled, wobbly people trying to walk filled the entire area with various kinds of liquor in their hands. There were many models, male or female, apart from the icy blue shield; they were standing on the floor in a way that befits the titles above their heads.

"Young friend, don't you want to join us? We have a piece of bread and a bottle of wine that we will be happy to share with everyone!"

As I continued my observations, I was startled by a voice from my right, not far away; the three were sitting on the ground and calling out to someone from the group who had just run out of the shield. Turning his head in the direction of the sound with a confused look, this person looked quite naive indeed, apparently only fifteen or sixteen years old before he died.

Although my words sounded condescending, my main concern was for mobs sitting on the floor with stubble beards that have grown considerably. This new generation brat likely has an online gaming experience.

I would soon realize how true this thought was; he attacked the mobs with Hangover LVL 1 above his head. We shared the same ideas, this was the first village, and the creatures around it could only serve as victims for our empowerment.

At these moments, Tipsy mobs showed no signs of panic. Even though their level was low, they calmly looked at the person running towards them through slightly closed eyelids.