The Village Center was alive with energy.
Cobbled streets vibrated under the shuffle of leather boots and wooden sandals. Stalls stretched across the open plaza, bursting with ripe fruit, cured meats, herbs bundled in twine, and odd trinkets of unknown use. The scent of grilled meat wafted over the hum of voices. Jugglers tossed clubs into the air. A man painted gold stood perfectly still atop a barrel. A monkey beside him banged a small gong whenever a coin clinked in the bowl.
It was the heart of the village, and Jaka couldn't have asked for a better place to start.
Beside him, Laksita adjusted the strap of her satchel, eyes flitting over parchment signs hung on notice boards. One sign in particular caught her eye:
Mantra and Sutra Class for Beginners.
She practically beamed. "Jaka, look! A mantra-reading class!"
"You're going to a spiritual chanting course?"
"Of course! This is Majapahit. It's our culture. You go hit stuff; I'll go sing the Vedas."
Jaka raised an eyebrow. "Try not to accidentally summon a rainstorm."
She snorted. "Try not to accidentally break your back lifting a rock."
He smirked. "Fair."
She waved and slipped into the tent of incense and ancient scrolls, humming already.
Jaka took a deep breath, slowing his steps as he moved through the noise. His thoughts, however, were razor-focused.
This place is crawling with potential trainers, he thought. I just need to pick the right one.
He blinked, and the familiar blue interface shimmered into existence before his eyes.
Level: 1
Core Attributes:
Strength: E (87/100)
Agility: D (12/100)
Dexterity: D (19/100)
Intellect: A (25/100)
Endurance: E (4/100)
Charisma: G (90/100)
Weapon Proficiency:
Blunt: F (10/100)
Blade: E (30/100)
Polearm: G (3/100)
Throwing: F (66/100)
Bow: E (12/100)
Job Proficiency:
Spoon Warrior: D (67/100)
Philosopher: A (37/100)
Fisherman: F (29/100)
Like most dedicated players, Jaka knew how the system truly worked. Stats grew through effort—100 points were needed to move from one rank to the next, and upon hitting 100, the stat would reset to 1 at the next higher rank. The process repeated for each tier, with every rank requiring the same grind. It wasn't flashy. It wasn't convenient. But it was consistent.
What the system didn't tell you—at least not directly—was the leveling restriction.
To level up from Level 1 to 2, a player needed at least two core stats at Rank S.
No shortcuts. No hidden quests. Just raw effort. That mechanic alone had caused more than a few frustrated rage-quits from casuals who reached a plateau and didn't understand why they weren't progressing.
But Jaka knew. He'd designed the system himself.
Most dedicated players figured it out eventually through trial and error. The smart ones discovered an even deeper truth: the most efficient path wasn't to hit the minimum and rush the next level.
It was to push every core stat to Rank S before leveling up. Why? Because your new base stats scaled from your current ranks—higher ranks meant better growth, better bonuses, and easier progress later on.
A shortcut now meant struggling later. A grind now meant strength that lasted.
It was a long road, sure. But for those aiming for the top, there was no other way.
The game didn't reward the impatient. It rewarded obsession.
Of course, rookies and casuals still made up the bulk of the player base. That was exactly why Jaka had built the training stalls in the first place: simple, effective stations where players could trade coin for basic stat growth.
These were Level 1 only—beginner-grade setups, with low-tier trainers offering just enough to help new players get moving.
Once a player hit Level 2, the stalls became obsolete.
The system demanded trainers of equal or higher level to generate meaningful growth. And the higher the trainer's level, the more stat points they could produce. It was a system built to encourage exploration, social interaction, and commitment.
Jaka spotted a burly man with a shaved head and a thick cudgel slung over his back, standing beside a stall labeled:
Training for Hire – Blunt Weapons and Basic Physical Conditioning
A familiar sight.
This stall's one of mine, Jaka thought. Still running well.
"How much for physical training?" Jaka asked.
"Three copper per session. Strength and Endurance work. I'm Togar."
"Deal. Let's start."
[Training Sequence Initiated]
Jaka groaned as he lifted a sack of stones onto his back. Muscles trembled. Sweat poured.
Strength +5
[System Message: Strength rising. You might finally stop being mistaken for a scarecrow.]
He rolled his eyes. "Says the algorithm I programmed."
Endurance +3
[System Message: Wow. You lasted a full five minutes. Medal incoming… maybe.]
"Hey, I lasted longer than your patch notes."
Togar barked a laugh and tossed another stone on the sack.
By day three, Jaka was running laps around the village, hauling water, dragging barrels, and doing squats while Togar shouted, "Try not to die, noodle boy!"
Agility +4
[System Message: You can now dodge flying fruit from angry shopkeepers. Congrats.]
Dexterity +10
[System Message: Your hands are now 13% less clumsy. Use this power responsibly.]
He spent evenings rubbing bruises with ginger balm and muttering curses at the notification popups.
[Day Six: Polearm Training with Murta]
Murta, a wiry old man with a bamboo staff and the reflexes of a mongoose, trained him under the morning sun. Whip-fast drills left Jaka's arms shaking.
Polearm +14
Dexterity +6
Endurance +3
By the sixth evening, Jaka slumped beneath a tamarind tree, drinking coconut water and nursing sore muscles. The village glowed golden in the twilight.
Laksita arrived, her robes slightly singed, her hair scented with sandalwood and faint soot.
He blinked. "Did you catch fire?"
"Almost! The monk next to me mispronounced Agni Hridaya Mantra and his scroll exploded."
"Why does that sound like a regular day for you?"
She sat beside him, sighing contently. "I memorized the opening three stanzas of the Rigveda. And I learned how to harmonize Sutra recitations with breath control. I might have accidentally entered a trance state."
"Is that why your left eye's twitching?"
"Side effect. Also, I saw my past life. I was a goose."
Jaka blinked. "A goose?"
"A majestic goose. With a little crown. I sang divine verses."
He cackled. "You're definitely hallucinating from incense."
"Shut up. What did you learn today, o warrior of sweat?"
He wiped his forehead. "I learned that barrels filled with sand are heavy. And that Togar's idea of encouragement is yelling, 'Try not to die, noodle boy!'"
Laksita giggled. "That's because you look like a possessed bamboo stick."
He raised a brow. "You wanna spar?"
She stood. "Only if I can chant sutra while dodging your wooden pole."
"That's both spiritual and slightly threatening."
[Current Stats – After Week One]
Strength: C (25/100)
Agility: B (11/100)
Dexterity: B (5/100)
Endurance: C (10/100)
Blunt: F (93/100)
Blade: E (69/100)
Polearm: F (55/100)
Throwing: F (97/100)
Bow: E (12/100)
Jaka looked at the system screen, satisfied. Strength and Endurance both C-rank. Agility and Dexterity already into B. Not bad for a week of self-torture.
Laksita leaned over his shoulder. "You know, if you combined all that brute force with a little mantra resonance, you'd unlock your third eye... maybe."
"I'll settle for unlocking the ability to sit without groaning."
"Coward."
"Goose."
They grinned at each other.
The sun dipped behind the rooftops of the village. Bells chimed from a distant shrine. Smoke curled from torches as the sky deepened into dusk. For a moment, they both sat in silence—one smelling like holy smoke, the other like effort and bruises.
A week had passed.
And the real journey was only beginning.