The oil lamp in the center of the inn room emitted a faint glow, casting long shadows across the wooden walls. Outside, the distant sound of steam whistles and the murmur of the subterranean city served as a constant reminder that this world never truly slept.
Diana was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the floating window of her status with her brow furrowed in deep dissatisfaction.
[LEVEL PROGRESS]
Current Level: 5 (45 / 1,500 EXP)
1,500 EXP.
From Level 1 to 5, the experience curve had been relatively smooth. Each defeated monster gave between 100 and 175 EXP points, allowing her to level up quickly in a matter of a few hours. But now, the number required to reach Level 6 had taken an absurd leap.
—Welcome to the famous 'Rookie Wall'.
The System commented, the interface popping up in the middle of the room with its usual ironic apathy.
—Starting at Level 5, the System structure imposes an exponential curve. Ash rats and lesser necrophages of level 2 or 3 will now give you a maximum of 10 or 15 EXP per kill. To keep climbing fast, you're gonna need to hunt Level 6 monsters and above, enter Medium-Sized Dungeons, or accept dangerous Guild quests.
Diana closed the status window with an impatient flick of her hand.
Killing low-level vermin isn't going to cut it anymore. Diana reasoned coldly. I need to stop acting like a desperate hunter and start consolidating my position. I need information.
She turned her head toward the corner of the table, where Rhea sat clean, dressed in her new light leather tunic, carefully organizing her iron daggers.
Unlike Diana, who was a human soul newly arrived from the living world, Rhea had been born in Hell.
Despite having spent most of her recent life abused in slave cages, the hybrid girl carried in her memory all the basic knowledge regarding the structure of that world, knowledge that was as natural as breathing for natives, but completely blind territory for Diana.
"Rhea." Diana called out.
The wolf girl perked her silver ears that very second, turning toward Diana with full attention. "Yes, Diana?"
"Sit here." Diana pointed to the chair beside the table. "I want you to tell me everything."
Rhea blinked, confused. "Everything…?"
"Everything." Diana crossed her arms over her chest, leaning forward. "You were born in this place. You know how this world works. Explain the structure of this world to me, the Circles, the Guilds, the laws… anything that seems obvious to you, but that I wouldn't know. Start from the beginning."
Rhea hesitated for a second, surprised to realize that the incredibly strong, arrogant human girl before her simply knew nothing about the basic geography of Hell. But she didn't mock her. She pulled the chair up slowly and sat facing Diana, gathering her thoughts.
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"Hell… is not just a city or a gigantic cave." Rhea began, her soft voice echoing through the quiet room. "It is an entire continent divided into seven vast levels, which the nobles call The Seven Supreme Circles."
Rhea used her index finger to trace invisible circles on the wooden table.
"We are in the First Circle, the Circle of Dust and Iron. It's the periphery of Hell. It's where most deceased human souls arrive and where the weakest infernal races live, like me. This place is ruled by an alliance of Trade Guilds and the Sector Dukes."
"And the other Circles?" Diana asked, her eyes sharp.
"As you descend, the Circles get larger, wealthier… and infinitely more dangerous." Rhea explained, her amber eyes glimmering with a hint of involuntary fear. "The Second Circle is the City of Pleasures and Lust. The Third is the Domain of Feasts and Gluttony. The Fourth is the Citadel of Gold and Greed… and so on, down to the Seventh Circle, the Abyss of Wrath, where the Supreme Demon Lords reside."
Diana committed every name to memory. Citadel of Gold and Greed… Fourth Circle. The name of that place kindled a strange, intense spark deep in her chest, but she kept her composure.
"And what about the System?" Diana continued her grilling. "How do people here view these floating screens in front of their eyes?"
"The System is the 'Ancient Law'." Rhea said simply. "It has existed since the beginning of time. They say it was created by the First Lords to organize the power of Hell. Every native awakens the System at ten years old. Without it, you cannot register loot, buy spells at Guilds, or obtain citizenship in any sector."
"And how do you get citizenship?"
"By earning rank in the Underground Arenas or climbing levels in the Official Guilds." Rhea replied promptly. "Without citizenship, you are considered merely an 'Unregistered Soul'. If the Sector Militia catches you unregistered outside hunting zones, they sell you to auctioneers… exactly what happened to me."
Diana nodded slowly. The puzzle pieces of Hell were beginning to fit together seamlessly in her mind.
She wasn't just in a game or an isolated dungeon. She was in a gigantic, brutal, feudal and capitalist society where strength and money dictated every millimeter of freedom.
I need citizenship. Diana concluded. And I need to climb the Arena ranks if I want access to the deeper sectors of this place.
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The conversation about Hell's history and rules continued for over two hours. Rhea answered every question with impressive patience and precision, proving to be a living dictionary of valuable information for Diana.
Around midnight, exhausted from the training and mine hunt, Rhea excused herself and lay down on the corner of the bed, falling asleep almost instantly. The hybrid girl's breathing was calm and rhythmic, her silver ears relaxed against the pillows.
Diana remained seated at the wooden chair.
The silence in the room deepened. The flame of the oil lamp flickered gently, casting dancing shadows across the wooden walls.
That was when the loneliness hit.
Up until that moment, ever since waking up in the filthy alley with the pain of her recent death in her chest, Diana had kept her mind in a state of frantic alert. She had fought, stolen, bargained, killed, and planned without stopping for a single second, using her rage, arrogance, and greed as armor of steel to avoid thinking about what had actually happened.
But now, in the absolute silence of the night, the armor began to crack.
Diana looked down at her hands. They were clean of monster blood, but her knuckles were still marked from the strain.
I died.
The thought came not as a distant concept, but as a violent strike to her chest.
She remembered the sound of iron crushing her structure. She remembered the terrifying feeling of hot blood surging up her throat. She remembered the screams of people on the sidewalk of her old world, the hospital ceiling, or the street she would never see again.
Her mother. Her father. Her studies. The perfect life she had planned detail by detail with sick ambition for seventeen years.
Everything had been torn apart in a split second by a stupid piece of flying iron.
And now she was in Hell. A cold, disgusting place full of monsters and demons that would devour her without a second thought if she wavered for a single second.
A cold, overwhelming wave of panic, shock, and pent-up grief surged up her throat.
Diana's breathing turned abruptly short and erratic. Her lips trembled, and her dark eyes began to sting with hot tears she had tried to suppress at all costs since arriving in this place.
She clutched her chest with her right hand, squeezing the leather of her hunter tunic so tightly the fabric groaned.
No… Diana thought, her teeth biting into her lower lip until she tasted blood. Don't cry, you idiot! You're Diana! You don't cry! You don't feel sorry for yourself!
But the human body has limits. The psychological pressure of dying and getting thrown into Hell was not something a seventeen-year-old girl, no matter how strong or greedy, could ignore forever.
A single silent tear escaped her left eye, trickling down her cheek and dripping onto the table's wood.
She buried her head in her arms crossed on the table, her shoulders quivering slightly in a restrained, muffled, desperate sob she refused to let turn into sound.
—…
The System interface appeared before her.
This time, there was no sarcastic text. There were no ironic jokes about her being a second-rate villain. The screen floated in absolute silence for several long seconds, emitting only a soft, warm golden light that illuminated the girl's huddled figure at the table.
—The pain of loss is the first tax that existence collects, Diana.
The System's voice echoed in her head. The tone was not mocking. It was an ancient, dry, almost solemn voice.
—You can cry tonight. Hell isn't going anywhere until tomorrow morning.
Diana didn't answer the System. She simply kept her head buried in her arms, letting the storm of repressed emotions burn inside until exhausting her strength.
In the corner of the bed, Rhea's wolf ears twitched slightly. The hybrid girl opened her amber eyes in the dark, listening to Diana's heavy, trembling breathing at the table.
Rhea didn't get up. She knew a proud girl like Diana would hate being seen in that state. Instead, Rhea simply pulled the linen blanket higher and remained awake in silence, keeping watch in the dark to ensure nothing disturbed her leader's rest.
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The hazy gray of the infernal morning crept through the cracks in the room's window.
When the first steam whistle of the Central Market echoed across the city, Diana raised her head from the table.
Her eyes were slightly bloodshot, but the pain and panic of the previous night had vanished completely, burned away and forged into the steel structure of her determination.
Human weakness had been purged in those silent tears. What remained in the wooden chair was a woman even colder, more focused, and hungrier for power.
She stood up, walked to the basin of cold water, and washed her face with resolve.
Rhea was already on her feet beside the bed, dressed in her flexible leather armor with her iron daggers strapped to her belt, waiting silently with an upright posture.
Neither of them mentioned what had happened during the night.
"Rhea." Diana said, drying her face with the towel.
"Yes, Diana?"
"What is our current balance?" Diana asked, testing the girl's memory.
"Three silver coins and ninety-five bronze coins." Rhea replied without hesitating for a second.
Diana smiled. A small, clean, dangerous smile.
"Perfect." Diana adjusted her black steel dagger at her waist. "We have a roof over our heads, guaranteed food for two more days, and money in our pockets. Today we aren't hunting monsters in the mines."
Rhea tilted her head. "What are we doing today?"
"We're heading to the Lower Zone of the Underground Arenas." Diana said, her eyes shining with renewed ambition. "We're going to figure out how the betting works, we're going to buy that incomplete spell tome we need, and we're going to find a way to register our citizenship in this shitty district."
With 3 Silver and 95 Bronze in her pocket, Level 5 consolidated, an increasingly strong alliance with Rhea, and a determination tempered by purged grief, Diana was ready to take the next step toward the top of Hell.
Final Notes:
Yep, it happened, Diana finally broke down. Let's remember that she's still just a seventeen-year-old teenager, and the full weight of everything finally hit her. Yeah, her first time crying happens right here. I'll admit, I felt a little bit sorry for her; even being all greedy and tough, this girl is still hiding a lot.
What did you all think? Diana starting to gain more layers, layers, and more layers-