I Became a Veteran Who Has to Stir Up Trouble to Survive - Chapter 2

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

[002] Confinement
Cold dread seeped into my bones.
The parting words the Goddess had left behind lingered like the metallic stench of a butcher’s blade, sharp and suffocating.
Malice pooled against my skin, as chilling as the air of a morgue.
To think I could die so pathetically simply by having my identity exposed.
But….
‘That I’m a transmigrator?’
Right—as long as I don’t get caught, it doesn’t matter.
I closed my eyes slowly and steadied my resolve.
It wasn’t unreasonable, but truthfully, such a constraint posed no great problem in this place.
In my previous life, when I played through Belheim, I’d single-handedly destroyed Guilds that tried to oppose me.
Assuming this Belheim resembled the original, I possessed enough experience and knowledge from reaching the upper ranks to survive.
I finished my thoughts quickly and surveyed my surroundings with composure.
My trembling fingers and lips had already stilled.
Now that things had come to this, assessing my condition and understanding my environment were the priorities.
Just then, a faint chime echoed in my mind, and the log window in the corner of my vision refreshed.
Ding—!
“You have awakened in a new space. No one reliable is visible nearby.”
“Use your given abilities and tools to escape this place.”
“Tutorial failure: Death.”
Like a seasoned veteran, I quickly grasped the situation.
‘My body feels fine overall… my limbs seem intact, no amputations….’
Ugh, my hands and feet are bound.
I’m imprisoned somewhere.
And it’s dark around me.
Though I’m not blindfolded—I can make out faint shapes through the darkness.
“….”
I steadied my breathing calmly.
As I inhaled slowly, stale, musty air flowed through my airways, and the pungent aroma of rum filled my nostrils.
Outside, I hear the creaking sway of something unstable and the splash of water.
It seems I’m trapped in the Ship’s Lower Deck Storage.
‘…If this is a tutorial starting in confinement aboard a ship, it’s either the “Mary Celeste Attack” or the “Jabrolta Strait Disaster.”‘
I pinpointed the location instantly.
Given Belheim’s nature—where future progression diverges based on choices at early branching points—I was certain I’d entered one of the tutorial scenarios.
And….
Could I use my status window as a light source?
I summoned my status window quietly, and blue light poured forth, but it was only visible to me—impossible to illuminate objects with this glow.
Then I’d abandon this method cleanly….
I closed my eyes slowly, then opened them again, and as my pupils dilated and adjusted to the darkness, more varied objects came into view.
The faint silhouette of a glowing door, a broken barrel, glimmering glass bottles….
“Cough…! Found it.”
With my hands and feet bound, I crawled forward and seized the glass bottle.
I wrapped the bottle in cloth to muffle the sound, then smashed it—the liquid inside spilled out, drenching my body.
｢You have obtained a shard of broken glass.｣
I used the sharp glass fragment to saw through the rope binding my limbs.
Working the shard back and forth across my wrists with steady strokes, the rope gave way effortlessly.
‘Good… at least that’s one problem solved….’
I rubbed my newly freed limbs and rose to my feet.
My wrists tingled from having been bound for so long, but I forced myself to ignore the discomfort.
Without certainty about my situation, my priority was to leave this place and gather more information.
I listened carefully to the sounds beyond the door, confirmed no one was nearby, and slowly pushed it open.
―Creeeak….
As I stepped through, the typical interior of a Ship’s Cabin came into view.
Scattered haphazardly around were frayed old ropes, broken ladders, and rotting fish left to decay.
‘This does appear to be the Lower Deck Storage….’
Yet this information alone wasn’t enough to pinpoint which tutorial episode this was.
Both “The Attack on the Mary Celeste” and “Disaster in the Jabrolta Strait” began with the player confined in the Ship’s Hold.
“I’ll need to reach the Upper Deck to know for certain.”
I quickly composed myself and made for the ladder leading to the Upper Deck.
The ship’s increasingly violent pitching and the urgent footsteps echoing from above made my heart race with anxiety.
If this truly was the former event, I was in serious trouble―.
Creak―.
“…!!”
Just as I was about to escape the cabin, I sensed a presence descending from above.
Someone was climbing down the ladder, so I released my grip and retreated.
As a dim lantern light descended, an elderly man appeared, and I realized one terrible fact.
“So you were here… you filthy rat….”
Ah.
I was going to die to this man.
* * *
The moment I saw the old man’s face, my body went rigid.
A visage I’d seen dozens of times while playing Belheim.
[Tyrosh the Black-Toothed]
｢The Chief Oil Keeper who oversees the ship’s lubricants, his body perpetually reeks of cod oil that has seeped into his very skin!｣
‘Damn… this is bad…!!’
Curses spilled reflexively from my lips.
How many times had I died to this bastard in the game?
Through the small monitor screen, he’d merely seemed repulsive, but facing him in person, the revulsion was so intense my skin crawled.
The distinctive stench of an unwashed medieval sailor, sleeves bleached white with salt, an oil lantern that creaked ominously and cast sinister shadows across the Ship’s Hold with every sway of the vessel….
Simultaneously, I understood which episode I had been thrust into.
[The Assault on the Mary Celeste]
My luck was absolutely abysmal.
Of all the wretched tutorials, I had to draw this one.
The Assault on the Mary Celeste is a tutorial that unfolds in an overwhelmingly grim and oppressive atmosphere.
It’s ranked among the worst progressions players encounter, thanks to the relentless psychological terror that tightens its grip with each passing moment.
But the most defining characteristic of this tutorial is….
‘Survival is impossible.’
No matter how desperately I writhe, clench my teeth, or exhaust every conceivable strategy, death remains inescapable.
Even if I miraculously carve out a path forward and escape one predicament, only a far more horrifying nightmare awaits.
It’s similar to those bosses in hardcore games that mercilessly slaughter novices from the start, crushing their spirit entirely.
Before exploring Belheim, it serves as a cruel baptism—a bitter lesson in the game’s fundamental unfairness.
Consequently, when this event triggered as a tutorial, the standard route was to die early and reset with a new character.
But….
‘What happens if I die here right now…?’
I felt certain there would be no convenient reset like in a game.
Every sensation coursing through my skin screamed this truth.
If I died like this, it would be the end. Final.
While fear paralyzed me, Tyrosh spotted me and raked his gaze up and down my frame.
“…Your limbs are unbound. Were you attempting escape, slave?”
“Ugh….”
“No matter. We need a sacrifice to appease the storm. Come quietly. The Sea God is wrathful.”
Shhk.
The old man drew a wickedly sharp cutlass from his belt and advanced toward me.
Even in the darkness, the blade caught the lamplight and gleamed with a golden sheen.
The cold aura concentrated at its edge seemed to forbid any thought other than submission.
“Stay still, slave. Resist, and I’ll sever an arm or two. Comply, and I’ll grant you a swifter death.”
“…Damn it.”
The old man closed the distance slowly, his blade leading the way.
If I let myself be dragged away, I would be helplessly bound and forced through the death event.
To survive, I needed to make a choice. Now.
The moment my back struck the wall as I retreated, I understood what I had to do.
“…Status. Invest in Agility.”
｢You will allocate stat points to Agility. How many points do you wish to invest?｣
“All of them.”
｢You have invested a total of 8 stat points into Agility.｣
Following the system’s notification, my muscles contracted subtly and my body felt weightless.
I planted my stance firmly on the swaying wooden planks.
Careful to keep my inner forearms—where the arteries ran—shielded, I turned my arms outward and assumed a combat stance. Tyrosh’s lips curled upward as he sneered.
“So… you’ve chosen the path of bloodshed, slave.”
“…Either way, blood spills whether I follow quietly or not.”
“That’s right. I was surprised your speech suddenly became fluent… but you’re not a brainless fish head like the other slaves, it seems.”
In that instant, before Tyrosh even finished speaking, he laughed and swung his cutlass.
A slash executed in the blink of an eye.
“Ugh…!”
I rolled across the floor by a hair’s breadth, escaping the trajectory of the blade.
I was able to react because I’d been carefully observing the movement of his arm muscles.
The blade sang through the air with a vicious whistle, embedding itself in the wall before being wrenched free.
My trembling legs carried me upright in a panicked scramble.
‘If I’d been even a moment slower, I’d be dead…!’
If I hadn’t invested stats into agility, if my judgment had been even slightly delayed.
As I widened the distance, my courage returning, Tyrosh advanced with his cutlass thrust forward.
“Unfortunate.”
“Damn… damn it…!”
I grabbed whatever object came to hand and hurled it, but the old man simply tilted his head with deliberate slowness and let it pass.
Tyrosh sneered and spoke.
“Fear is fine sustenance for the gods. Tremble more, my sacrifice. The more you quake, the sweeter your blood becomes… tsk tsk….”
“You… you damned senile pervert…!”
“Resent me all you wish, young lamb.”
Tyrosh swung his blade.
I barely managed to pull my body back and evade.
A relentless barrage of attacks pursued me.
The curved blade descended like a fishing hook seeking its catch, aimed at my limbs.
I twisted my body desperately and ran through the Ship’s Hold in ungainly flight, fleeing from the steel.
Maintaining balance while sprinting across the heaving deck of the pitching Ship was no simple feat, yet I had no choice.
Blood trickled from my cheek, and my feet oozed crimson from thorn pricks, but I had no time to care.
Tyrosh pursued close behind, laughing with sadistic glee, his hand reaching for my throat.
“Will you be caught… or will you escape?!”
Scritch—!!
I swung the glass shard I’d concealed in my palm, and Tyrosh flinched as his hand was cut.
“A little rat hiding its teeth, are you?”
“Gasp… gasp….”
“Tsk… how irritating….”
In that moment, my vision inverted in an instant.
Pain bloomed belatedly from my abdomen and the back of my throat.
Only when I saw myself sprawled on the deck and Tyrosh looming above me did I realize I’d been kicked in the belly.
I scrambled desperately to push myself up….
“Ugh?!”
I fell flat on the wooden floor before I could take more than a few steps.
My foot had caught in the mesh of a scattered fishing net.
Tyrosh approached with a cruel smile spreading across his face.
Trapped like a fish ensnared in a net, I found myself cornered with no escape—
Crash—!
A colossal wave crashed down upon the Ship, and my body was hurled upward.
The impact of the wave’s strike slammed me against the wall, and searing pain flooded through me, but at least it spared me from being torn in two.
As Tyrosh spat out curses laced with dialect, recovering from the shock, I desperately tore the net tangled around my ankles free, then retreated while gripping my throbbing shoulder.
I desperately prayed that the collision had driven his head into an edge, but I couldn’t rely on such fortune against a sailor accustomed to the Sea.
“…You were fortunate, slave.”
“Gasp… gasp….”
“But you won’t have such luck a second time.”
Tyrosh approached, his expression grim and devoid of amusement, as if he intended to finish this once and for all.
I looked up at the approaching old man with eyes drowning in fear.
I was terrified.
My body trembled. Hiccups escaped between the tremors.
Terror gripped my heart in an iron vice.
As the scent of death grew ever thicker, my vision narrowed.
The weight of death pressing against my skin carved into my flesh like a blade, slowly cutting deeper.
If I kept running, perhaps at some point my opponent would give up.
Even knowing that was impossible, I found myself turning away from reality.
‘Damn it….’
In this cramped Ship, no matter how much I tried to flee, I would only die.
I took a slow, deep breath and faced the harsh reality head-on.
To survive, I needed to make a decision once more.
I whipped my trembling body into action, stopping my legs from retreating.
I rose, overcoming the creeping terror.
I fixed my gaze upon the enemy before me.
Think clearly, Doran.
No matter how solid a door is, it will open if you knock hard enough….
I desperately cross-referenced every element visible in my memory and sight, searching for a way to survive.
Should I try to catch him off guard with words? Feign madness and rush him?
Or perhaps—
“…I found it.”
The move that would turn this situation around.
I found it now, you bastard.

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————