Hey, I'm Velt Armack, and here's the unfiltered lowdown on how I maxed out and finished the game. This isn't some grand epic about turning into an overpowered deity or transforming from zero to hero. And forget about any big-chested women tripping over themselves for my attention—I totally repel that stuff. No, this is a raw story of my struggles, all thanks to the dumb decisions I've made.
So here's the deal. We live in a screwed-up world where everyone's basically trapped. Once you hit 17, your memory gets totally wiped and you're dropped into a literal game world. And by game world, I mean a full-on video game. You level up, pick up a bunch of skills, join a ranking system, battle huge bosses, explore dungeons, and even deal with micro-transactions. Think of it like Dungeons & Dragons, but where you can pick nearly endless races, classes, and abilities. Most people go for the strongest builds, so it's almost impossible to find someone truly unique. Luckily, there's something called "super classes"—random abilities or traits everyone gets right off the bat that set you apart from the rest.
That's where my problem starts. I wanted a unique build—a setup that sounded wicked cool on paper—but oh man, was I off. You can be just about any reasonable species in this world; there are supposedly millions of each race roaming around, or at least that's what people think. The truth is, I come from a race no one's ever heard of: I'm a token. Yup, like in those trading card games where you drop a token onto the field. I'm a half-assed token with only 1 HP and 1 defense. While most players crank up their stats when they level up, I'm stuck with the same measly numbers. Boosted HP, extra armor, even temporary health—it's all useless on me. I can even die from a simple fall. The only bright spot is that I get to respawn, and in this world, that's a huge perk.
See, death here is serious business. When someone dies, it's game over—no second chances, no afterlife. Sure, souls exist, but unless they're mega-powerful, they can't interact with anyone. That's why players clamor for revival items, resurrection spells, and extra lives. Me? I'm lucky to come back for free, even though the pain and shock of dying still hit hard.
The kicker, though, is that you need to be level 1 to grab your super class. Here I am, stuck at level 0—haven't even finished the tutorial. Everything I've learned so far comes from wandering the starting lobby for four days, reading every scrap of info I can find, and asking loads of questions. As you read this, know that it's just my scribbled journal notes while I'm waiting in a queuing room.
And here's another thing: to start a party, you need at least one other person—or so I was told. Sure, you can go it alone, but I'd rather not slog through another four days of that boring tutorial solo. So my first real mission is to find a partner. Anyway, I'm about to jump into it, so catch you later in the next journal entry!
Sitting in a surprisingly tidy room, Velt closed his book and settled into a chair. He looked pretty normal—clear skin, white pupils set against fog-grey eyes, and his long hair pulled back into a ponytail. He was dressed casually, and around him were other folks: huge, heavily armored types wielding massive weapons.
He bolted towards the interview room and burst in. It was pitch black—the only thing visible was one lone chair.
Velt called out, "Hello, is anyone here?"
A deep, booming voice responded, "SIT IN THE CHAIR!!!"
Velt obeyed and plopped into the chair.
The voice continued, "Welcome to the queuing process, Velt. Everyone who comes here gets drafted. You're a special case because you can't start a party—you're stuck at level 0."
"Isn't the requirement for starting a party being level 1?" Velt asked.
"Correct," the deep voice confirmed.
"Of course," he muttered.
Then the voice explained, "The queuing process involves twenty different, incomplete parties, each listening to every detail about you."
"Where are they?" Velt inquired.
"They're watching and listening through magic, although you can't see them," the voice answered.
"So I can hear them? That's kinda delightful," he remarked with a smirk.
"Your interview will now be joined by three other individuals," the voice announced. Suddenly, three screens lit up, displaying a goblin, an elf, and an orc.
"Queuing will now start. State your race," the voice instructed.
The elf said, "I'm an elf," and a buzz of murmured voices filled the air.
The goblin then declared, "I am a goblin," prompting a flurry of whispers.
The orc boomed, "Orc I am," causing the unseen crowd to erupt in excitement.
Finally, Velt announced, "I'm a token." In the background, someone could barely be heard asking, "You're a what?"
"Uh, token," he reiterated, patting his chest. With that, his form shimmered as he momentarily transformed into a transparent, featureless figure, before snapping back to normal. A murmur of confusion and disbelief rippled through the group.
The deep Voice boomed out, "Now, what is your class?" The atmosphere grew even more charged as the participants prepared to reveal their identities.
The elf leaned forward and declared, "I'm a cleric." Almost instantly, whispers began to swirl among the onlookers.
Not to be outdone, the goblin coolly stated, "I am a rogue," sparking a flurry of hushed chats through the crowd.
Then the orc boomed in a hearty tone, "Warrior I am." His words were met with clapping and cheering, and someone could be heard hollering, "THAT'S WHAT I WANNA HEAR!!!"
When it was Velt's turn, he announced, "I'm an acrobatic." The room fell dead silent, interrupted only by a faint voice questioning, "You're a WHAT?" followed by another quip, "Sounds like a subclass..."
The Deep Voice continued without missing a beat, "Now, what is your background?" The responses came quickly.
The elf replied with a note of pride, "I have a background in magic school," prompting immediate discussion among the group.
The goblin followed up, almost nonchalantly adding, "I'm cursed," which stirred even more conversation than the elf's statement did.
The orc simply said, "Soldier." His answer sparked another round of loud applause and cheers from the assembled parties.
Finally, Velt offered, "I have no background," and his words were met with a chorus of boos.
The Deep Voice then shifted the focus, announcing, "Finally, what role do you play on the team?" Responses flowed in one after the other.
The elf answered, "Healer," earning approving claps from the crowd.
The goblin casually stated, "Sweeper," which sparked its own batch of murmurs and side conversations.
Then the orc bellowed, "Tank." His choice sent the crowd into an absolute frenzy, with someone exclaiming, "That's what I wanna hear!"
When it came time for Velt to describe his role, he half-jokingly offered, "I would say... balanced?" The silence that followed was punctuated only by the occasional cough, highlighting the room's collective skepticism.
With a practiced tone of authority, the Deep Voice declared, "Very well, I'll reveal their stat totals, and the party's can decide who to take up." Numbers flooded the display—stat totals and individual stats were thrown up in electric fashion. The room fell into shock as everyone gaped at Velt's dismal numbers.
One person couldn't believe it, exclaiming, "He's level 0 and has a stat total of 50?" Another quickly added, "How is that even possible?"
In truth, there were eight core stats at play—strength, defense, health, speed, stamina, mana, spell attack, and dexterity. While most players at level 0 started with a modest bonus of at least 10 points per stat thanks to their chosen race, class, and background—which would normally grant them a total of 80 points—Velt's "unique" build resulted in only 20 in dexterity, 20 in speed, 5 in stamina, and 5 in strength.
Moments later, Velt found himself back in the queue waiting room, staring at the ground in dismay. He silently raged, I didn't get drafted? No way, there were 20 parties... His mind replayed the harsh words he'd overheard: "He can't even play a crucial role in our party!" and "He can't heal, give buffs, deal damage—I wouldn't even trust him as a distraction!"
Frustration seethed inside him as he muttered, "Ugh, how am I supposed to get past the tutorial without at least one other person?!" In this world, the only way to become level 1 was to beat the tutorial. Even if Velt managed to land a kill-steal on someone's level 100 boss, he wouldn't even earn a smidge of EXP.
After a moment of introspection, he sighed and declared to himself, "Alright, plan B." Velt stood up, leaving the dismal room behind. He stepped into an expansive, super-mall-like area teeming with chatter and shopping.
"I give up. I guess I should try to get some training in. Maybe skill is what I need to beat the tutorial," Velt thought aloud, glancing up at a bright sign pointing towards the "Starting Area Grind Zone."
Although he might never level up from this struggle, he was determined to at least pick up some combat skills. With a resolute push, Velt started hustling through the bustling crowd—dodging and weaving until he reached a wide-open entrance that led into a lush jungle. Here, numerous parties huddled in campsites, chilling out, eating, and catching some sleep.
Everyone camps in the same area? Honestly, what more would I expect from parties? he mused internally with a wry smile.
Then, without warning, a colossal boom shattered the relative calm area from deep within the jungle. Trees bent back and snapped as a fierce shockwave tore through the area. Campsites and scattered players were blasted away in a chaotic burst of energy.
"Not again!" a nearby player shouted, only to be swept away by the force.
Players scrambled to hold their ground—some shored up with shields, others conjuring magic to keep from being tossed about. Another voice erupted in panic, "Why is there a God damn high level in the starter area!?"
In the ensuing chaos, Velt found himself hurled into a sword. The impact was brutal—he was impaled and, rather than bleeding out, shattered into countless shards. Then, as if by some strange mechanic, his body reformed.
"What the hell is all of this power?!" Velt shouted as the shockwave subsided. The jungle—and every campsite scattered across it—lay in disarray.
A frustrated player could be heard exclaiming, "You gotta be kidding me! We just cleaned up too!" Another nearby grumbled, "This damn high-leveler could kill us all at this rate!" Yet another voice added, "Why hasn't any admin gotten involved? Whoever's doing this could effortlessly take out a ton of innocent new parties." In response, one more person muttered, "A few have already died."
Muttering under his breath, Velt asked aloud, "Ugh, is some high-level prick beating up on low level enemies?"
It wasn't long before a human wizard ambled over to him. With an air of urgency, the wizard explained, "It's been happening for hours now. Large masses of monsters have been wiped out in an instant by this guy—he's even taken out countless bosses."
Curiosity piqued, Velt inquired, "Any idea of who this is?"
The wizard shook his head, "Nobody's seen him, but it's totally a player! The starting area is for levels 1 through 10, and no one at those levels should be capable of such ongoing destruction."
"Hm, you don't say..." Velt responded, his tone mixing incredulity with a hint of worry.
The wizard leaned in a bit closer, "Yeah, he's making it damn near impossible for any of us to progress!"
Realizing that the threat—and perhaps the opportunity—lay somewhere deeper in the jungle, Velt didn't hesitate. With a determined glance, he took off, plunging headfirst into the dense foliage of the jungle in search of this enigmatic high-level player.
Velt tore through the forest like a hawk on a dive, swift and focused. He had a plan: find the high-level ass-hat wreaking havoc in the jungle, and beg him to carry Velt through the grueling tutorial. If that plan didn't work, he could always fall back on plan C—the original plan B.
As he sprinted between the trees, another massive boom boomed through the jungle—louder than before. A fierce shockwave ripped through the canopy, toppling trees and nearly halting Velt in his tracks.
In his mind, Velt grumbled, And just like that, I'm deaf! But that'll be fixed soon... Before he could even react, a rock—moving at nearly light speed—smashed directly into his head. The impact shattered his head into fragments, sending a fresh shockwave that sent nearby trees tumbling. Yet, like clockwork, Velt's head reformed, and he resumed his frantic dash through the jungle.
Truthfully, while it might seem simple, it's weird as hell coming back from the dead. I feel every bit of the pain from what killed me, and I feel it again every time I resurrect. The fifty times I died during the tutorial? Man, that was brutal. It's one of the many reasons I gave up on the tutorial altogether, he thought bitterly.
Another boom—this one even louder—echoed through the jungle, signaling that Velt was getting dangerously close to the source of all this destruction. A subsequent shockwave hit him with relentless fury, obliterating his body into countless shards before he quickly reformed.
That hurts like hell too, but it's best if I— Velt's thoughts were interrupted when he spied something in the distance. Without hesitation, he dove into a nearby bush and peeked out. Through the leaves, he saw a man of average build but astonishing presence. The man sported a black tank top, black fingerless gloves, and black-and-yellow earphones, while his jet-black, wavy mullet framed eyes that held no emotion. With his teeth bared in a perpetually upset expression, the most striking feature was the enormous war-hammer he wielded—almost five times the size of his body. He stood atop a gruesome mountain of monster corpses, some flattened, some smashed beyond recognition.
Before Velt could fully process the sight, the mysterious man spoke in a gruff tone, "Is that still not enough?" He then leapt off the corpses, scanning the area without a clear destination. After a brief pause, he mused aloud, "Maybe the grind is just that hard. Maybe I gotta smash a few more bosses in."
Velt emerged from his hiding spot, clearing his throat as he approached the towering figure. With a mix of nervousness and determination, Velt addressed him, "Hello, my good sir, I'm assuming you're the powerful gentleman wrecking havoc throughout the starting area."
Initially, the man didn't even register Velt's presence. Unperturbed, Velt edged closer, saying, "Hello?" as he walked up behind him. It struck him all over again—when he got this close, the man was even taller than he'd imagined. Summoning his courage, Velt reached out and tapped the stranger on the shoulder, and an involuntary shiver ran down his spine.
The stranger jerked his head slightly, saying, "Huh?" in mild surprise. In Velt's internal monologue, he wondered, What do I feel? My hand just won't lift from his shoulder! Is this fear? They say fear doesn't shut you down, it wakes you up. Have I already accepted my death? But that can't be—I'm unkillable… Or is this the true presence of someone higher-level than me?
At long last, the man turned fully to face Velt, removing his earphones. "Oh, finally, another person," he remarked. Then, with an almost nonchalant tone, he added, "Yo, I kinda need help."
Velt blinked in shock. "What?" he managed to ask.
The man continued, "I've been trying to level up for the past five hours, but I can't."
"You're high-level, right? If not max-level, then at least close to it. Try fighting monsters on your own level?" Velt suggested, struggling to keep up.
"But I am! Some of these monsters are even above my pay-grade," the man replied.
Before Velt could press for more details, a sudden commotion erupted behind them. A giant lizard with razor-sharp claws leapt into view, poised to strike. With incredible speed, the man spun around and swung his massive hammer. The blow slammed into the lizard's head, unleashing a thunderous, ear-shattering boom and a powerful shockwave. The lizard disintegrated into bits, and the force of the impact obliterated Velt into shards once again.
A brief silence followed before the stranger casually said, "Oops."
Within moments, Velt reformed, panting and in obvious pain. "U-Uh, yeah... I can do that," he stammered, voice cracking with relief and discomfort.
The man raised an eyebrow, impressed. "For free? What class can do that?"
"It's not a class," Velt explained, trying to catch his breath.
"Race?" the man guessed.
"Yes, token," Velt replied.
The man grinned, shaking his head. "I never really dug into that stuff—I just picked human and rolled with it."
"Fair enough. But one more thing... WHAT WAS THAT?!" Velt demanded, his tone a mix of awe and exasperation.
The man shrugged nonchalantly. "What? I just hit that thing with my hammer."
Velt couldn't help but point out, "You have a literal impact frame every time you swing!"
"I know, cool, right?" the man boasted.
"I guess," Velt mumbled, still processing everything.
The man then mentioned, "Oh yeah, I heard someone call you a higher-level player or something."
"Yeah, that's what you are," Velt confirmed.
To prove his point, the man activated a stat display. The numbers flashed on screen: he was a human paladin playing the role of a tank, with a stat total of 144. But something was off. Despite having a staggering 99 in strength, his stamina, speed, dexterity, and HP were all low—15, 10, 10, and 10 respectively—and his defense was a flat zero. And curiously, he was still level 0. His name was Yuli.
Velt's eyes widened in disbelief. "What... in the WORLD!!!" he exclaimed.
Yuli sighed, "I don't understand how people level up, man! I've been at level 0 forever."
"Did you skip the tutorial?" Velt asked, incredulous.
"Pft, yeah? I don't need no tutorial to know how to live!" Yuli scoffed.
"Dude... you need to complete the tutorial to become level 1. Only then can you actually start leveling up," Velt explained.
Yuli stared deep into Velt's eyes for a full minute before breaking the silence. "Right, I definitely knew that. So, where's the tutorial?" he asked, his tone suddenly curious.
"Not here..." Velt replied.
"Right, and where's not here?" Yuli pressed.
"Out of the jungle," Velt answered flatly.
"Right, and where is out of the jungle?" Yuli persisted.
At this point, Velt let out an annoyed grunt. "You gotta be fucking with me," he muttered.
"I don't swing that way," Yuli retorted with a smirk.
Exasperated, Velt shook his head. "Whatever... I'm level 0 too, and I need help getting through the tutorial. So, can you help me out?"
"I don't know you," Yuli replied coolly.
"Well, you could get to know me. Level 0s have to stick together! The game only gets harder when you're alone," Velt argued passionately.
Yuli shrugged, "The game's pretty easy for me."
"Yeah, because you're strutting around with 99 strength and a big dream. You do know that if you get hit once, you're down for the count, right?" Velt retorted.
"And what makes you say that?" Yuli challenged.
"Your 0 defense speaks for itself. Dude, I might have only 1 in defense, but that's still more than you got," Velt shot back.
"If it ain't broke, don't fix it," Yuli quipped.
"Bro, you're so broke I think you should be scrapped for spare parts," Velt fired off before Yuli started to walk away.
"I guess I need to start a party eventually. You'll be my first recruit," Yuli called over his shoulder.
"You... a leader of a party?" Velt asked, incredulous.
"You don't know me—don't get to judge my leadership skills," Yuli snapped defensively.
Velt tried to add, "You seem kinda..."
"Strong? I know," Yuli interrupted proudly.
"Yeah, let's say that..." Velt conceded with a half-smile.
With that, the pair began walking together through the nearly destroyed jungle, a silent understanding forming between two unlikely level-0 warriors searching for a way out of a broken system.