Warriors will die if they charge.

"Mr. Marcus, with your burly build, you should go to the docks and move boxes. Merchants need laborers like you."

As dawn broke through the mist floating over Linhe Town, it outlined the thin, half-human figure in the alley.

Lawson leaned against the damp wall, looking up at Marcus who had filled half the street, and added:

"The army is good, and officers like big, clumsy guys like you. You're good at carrying supplies, transporting corpses... you're good at everything."

Marcus's lips twitched. He just wanted Lawson to do a simple professional certification, to verbally acknowledge that he was a thief.

He rubbed his hands together, bent over, and said to Lawson, who only reached his waist, "You just need to admit it verbally. I've made a bet that if you're willing to admit I'm a thief..."

He pulled a gold coin with a griffin design from his pocket, a pained look on his face: "Look at this..."

The gold coin that had been lying in his palm vanished in a flash. Lawson casually toyed with the griffin coin, which was half the width of his hand: "Did you see my move?"

"No," Marcus answered truthfully.

"You're not quick enough to react, and you can't lie. Thieves aren't for you, Mr. Marcus. There's an art to being a thief."

Lawson placed the gold coin in Marcus's palm, slapped his arm—which was as thick as his thigh—and said encouragingly, "Come back to the idea of ​​being a thief once you've learned to lie."

After saying that, the halfling disappeared into the mist drifting in the alley, leaving only the lingering aroma of cheese and bread to indicate that someone had been standing by the wall.

Marcus sighed deeply, staring at the pale blue characters floating in his eye sockets with a troubled expression.

[Mission: Southbound Special Rail]

[Description: You know very little about the outside world. The scorching rain in Linhe Town is on your skin, and your hair is wet and sticky.]

Cargo ships are moored at the dock, clear river water laps against rotten wooden stakes, and the boardwalk creaks underfoot. The old folks always say that children who go out at night will be eaten by the Queen of the Water Ghosts, and you can occasionally hear the screams of a water ghost as a baton smashes its head.

After initially adapting to your new life, you no longer rely on your strong arms to support yourself at the docks, but the story needs a main plot. Perhaps finding a mentor and becoming a professional will be the beginning of a legend.

Mission Reward: 2 Rare-grade Coupons.

Five days ago, when Marcus, who had struck it rich, was transported to this world where magic and dragons existed, a strange text panel floated before his eyes.

Fortunately, the panel was written in Chinese characters, which he was familiar with. If this thing had written in the Common Language, given the original owner's "prenatal education" level of literacy, he would probably have been stuck as a dockworker for life.

After witnessing a drunken dockworker being dragged into the river by a water ghost, he felt deeply the danger of his working environment and wanted to end his mission on the "Southbound Special Rail" as soon as possible.

This is the first task: to gain the mentor's approval and become a professional. What seems like a simple task is no less difficult for a dockworker than steering a ship for a dwarf.

The original owner spent all the money he had saved for his future wife to get his fortune appraised at a mage's hut in town. He was disliked for being illiterate and was blasted out of the house by a shockwave.

He brought a few bottles of good wine to please the scattered hunters, but was only told he was clumsy. He swore to the god of justice that the creature hiding in the woods was definitely an elf, not the goblin the hunters claimed.

"Let's try going to Captain Fielding. The drunkard in the tavern also claims to be a valiant warrior. My physique is definitely up to the task."

Marcus cheered himself up, saying that he had tried mage, ranger, and thief, and his only option now was to become a warrior with high damage on both the left and right fists...

He put the gold coins back into his pocket with his broad, fan-like hands, and strolled along the misty streets in the morning. He bought two pieces of roasted sausage from the butcher shop, along with freshly baked bread and a light beer.

He took a bite of the bright red sausage, chewed it a few times, spat out a mouthful of milky white cartilage on the ground, and muttered a complaint—it was mixed with goblin meat again.

The most famous warrior in Linhe Town is undoubtedly Fielding, the militia captain and Water Ghost Slayer.

The Water Demon Slayer has personally smashed the heads of countless monsters to protect women and children from the threat of monsters in the river.

I heard that Fielding's requirements are extremely strict. To join the militia, one must be physically fit, have a strong will, and possess a very strong sense of responsibility.

But at least literacy isn't required, Marcus muttered to himself.

He stood in front of the militia camp gate and waved to Captain Fielding, who was putting on his armor: "Captain Fielding, it's me, Marcus. Do you remember me?"

Fielding looked up and glanced at the burly young man standing in front of the door: "Shelly's son, Marcus? What do you need the militia's help with?"

Marcus hurried into the camp and stood in front of the captain. His burly body was half a head taller than Fielding's, but his aura was far inferior to the other's.

"Do you think I can be a soldier?"

Fielding frowned and stopped tugging at the leather armor straps. "You're not thinking you're making too little money at the docks and want to become an adventurer, are you?"

Many young people dream of getting rich overnight, carrying longswords and armor picked up by the roadside, wanting to embark on the adventurer's journey, but most of them end up following the path of the pioneers and becoming corpses lying by the roadside.

As the captain of the militia for the Baron, Fielding naturally had an obligation to persuade the residents of Riverside Town to work with peace of mind, since most of the adventurers' income was tax-free.

"No, no, no, I just want to be a soldier."

Marcus flashed a bright white smile, bent his arm, and flexed his thick biceps:

"I will face life bravely. No matter what difficulties I encounter, I will not be afraid. I will face them with a smile and confront my fears like a warrior."

Fielding chuckled: "If you have that kind of thinking, you're already a warrior, provided you don't use the bottle as a weapon and smash it over someone's head, haha."

Marcus was lost in thought, nodding in response to the captain's instructions, but his eyes remained fixed on the mission panel.

It's not complete; something must be missing...

He spread his arms and said with an awkward laugh, "I want some more tangible feelings, what exactly is a warrior? You know, I'm uneducated and don't understand these principles."

"What's so hard to understand about 'don't cause trouble'? What a troublesome kid." Fielding muttered a few times, not really questioning Marcus's actions. Young people always have some unrealistic dreams.

The burly militia captain coughed twice and addressed him in an authoritative tone: "Boy, what do you think a soldier is?"

"A soldier is someone who can stand up even after being attacked, and then fight back."

Fielding smiled almost imperceptibly, finding the kid quite interesting. He clenched his fist and said, "Take a punch, and if you fight back, I'll acknowledge you as a warrior."

Marcus patted his chest and said, "Come on, if you call me that, I'm no man."