Fast forward several months, and Jimmy realized his hidden class change was the second greatest decision of his life.
It was the day he transmigrated to the true world of Valrere. Sure there were trials and tribulations, but those hardships only brought his party together, finally transforming them from a bunch of losers living in a Chinese restaurant into heroes who vanquished the Demon Lord’s general.
Hell, even Rhonda slimmed down. She was so fucking beautiful now, he’d restarted doing her from the front.
There was even a princess! That fiery, blonde vixen had Donny wrapped around her thumb, and he was loving every minute of it. Who was Jimmy to judge, even if the princess was a little brat? Donny hadn’t shown that much emotion since murdering cats back home—well, at least Jimmy assumed that was his cat murdering face.
The actual continent of Valrere was just like the game. With he and his party’s cheat-like knowledge, they sailed through the missions, leveling up into near monstrous strength themselves. They saved towns and went from zero to hero in a blink. He couldn’t be happier!
Not long after the party first arrived, they’d practiced teamwork killing Thumper Rabbits. Hordes of the sly prey gathered near the Fire Mountain Range, just outside the beginner village. As to why the local baron thought it was a good idea to build a beginner village in the shadow of a volcanic mountain range, he hadn’t a clue. The commoners did some goofy shit and Jimmy simply accepted it as cultural differences.
Not sure if the baron’s more stupid or cruel…the NPC’s—er—citizens deserve better. Once I kill the Demon Lord, I’ll give them better. For Ronwald who gifted my first iron sword, for Padchuck who bought all my mangled Thumper skins, for Harweld who…well, he’s the kind of guy who’d hold the door. You can always count on a guy who’d hold the door.
Oh! And Linwella, I’ll protect those tits with my life. They’re a freakin’ national treasure.
They’d earned enough off those mangled Thumper skins to afford some hot meals and a very crowded room at the inn. It wasn’t much, but it was cozy. And the sexy innkeeper didn’t hurt.
Linwella, sweet Linwella and her forty horsepower, twin engine motorboats. Fuck, who am I kiddin’? In terms of stats, her tits rival Donny’s mullet. Almost. Such a sweet mullet.
However, the true wealth was the cesspit.
Behind Oswalt’s Mountain, they found an enormous pit of fossilized shit and sulfur. What was more, not too far away was an operational coal mine. It took a while to realize the value of the cesspit; fortunately, they had a serial killer in their party.
Donny must have known something was up with that place, as perfectly as everything was arranged.
After some scientific trial and error…okay, maybe there was an explosion or two and maybe an out of control inferno that they definitely weren’t responsible for. Ehem, after some exceedingly cautious scientific trials, it turned out the pit was actually black powder. That was right, a pit of friggin’ gunpowder.
'System message: You’ve discovered the secret of Oswalt’s hidden stash. Don’t smoke it…again.
'Class change: Musketeer. Wield the power of chaos with the tip of your finger. You’re clearly responsible enough to 'wield it.
'Change class: Y/N'
Jimmy’d damn near ripped Timmy’s arm off forcing him to accept that hidden class. Anything to keep his brother further from danger.
After commissioning the genius smithy Ronwald, they’d even upgraded the class to Rifleman. It took some doing, but that smithy managed to groove the barrel of the musket he crafted, greatly improve the accuracy of Timmy’s new firearm. Of course, it wasn’t a true repeating rifle, simply a musket with a rifled barrel, but the class upgrade improved Timmy’s stats.
Never can have too many stats.
Speaking of improved stats, I really need to grow a mullet…Wonder if I could introduce this world to Trans Ams? I do want to improve their quality of life. It’s totally not because I think Linwella’d look amazing in a T-top.
Although, it was a bit disconcerting how they’d so ‘conveniently’ stumbled across a future weapon in a medieval-themed world. Since then, Jimmy often wondered if he was the first group who’d transmigrated from Earth. Perhaps there were others!?
There had to be.
Contrary to the lore of Valrere Online, they’d pretty well accepted Prometheus as a minor god, and not the creator of Valrere. That guy was as dumb as a box of rocks. However, that just made Jimmy trust the minor god all the more. Nobody that stupid could be malicious, and his bubbly personality, his happy nature was just too good to ignore. It was impossible to be depressed with their curious little buddy in the room.
Happy, happy Promy.
The main storyline they’d followed so far was pretty standard stuff. A Demon Lord threatened the continent of Valrere and five heroes were summoned to defeat him.
However, the Demon Lord was a cowardly bastard, off in a continent of his own and content to send others to do his bidding.
So far, Jimmy and Co. had only met the scrubs and a few elites.
That all changed after a vicious battle with the Demon Lord’s general. His party was gravely wounded, and Jimmy, the last man standing, pulled deep on his OP stats for the ass-pull of the century, not that he was complaining about cheating.
The Demon Lord’s general was cleaved in two by Valreaper. What could be said? Jimmy was a sore loser. He'd never abandon hope just because the situation seemed lost.
But the war was far from over…
After witnessing the brute strength of the Demon Lord’s general, Prometheus recommended a scouting mission to assess the Demon Lord himself. Upon that little green-haired god’s recommendation, Jimmy was to go alone, being both the strongest of the bunch and to aid in the stealth of the mission.
Unfortunately, or rather much to his resigned joy, his little brother rejected that notion. He was coming, too. The two of them, brothers in arms, going to scout the Demon Lord. Jimmy had never been so proud nor realized how stubborn his brother truly was.
Prometheus hired a guide, a stocky middle-aged man of few words, words they’d long since discovered were surprisingly similar to Latin. With Prometheus’ magic, it really didn’t take long to learn the language of true Valrere.
And here they stood, ready for the final leg of their journey. A guide of few words, his brother, and Jimmy himself, loitered in the middle of a sprawling prairie, vibrant plains as far as he could see in either direction. Days of rickety carriage travel brought them here; yet, Jimmy didn’t have a clue as to why.
Apparently, this was the border of Valrere. For the first time, Jimmy was about to leave the continent, a search for the Demon Lord’s lair. Though a thought nagged at him…where’s the border patrol? I mean, I shouldn’t have any problems getting through. I’m white. But still, there’s nothing here.
Their guide, clearly in some kind of rush, tried to gather everyone’s belongings. Reluctantly, Jimmy handed over his Valreaper’s Sword, the Heritage armor set he’d earned, and an umbrella. But the guide didn’t stop there.
What, did Prometheus send me out here with some kind of pervert? Luring boys to the plains just to see them naked?
At least he kept his underwear, in spite of the guide’s protests. And Jimmy made damn sure his little brother did, too.
Prometheus had been a vital resource and he fully trusted their pint-sized god. Really, throughout the journey, he acted more like a nav pixie than a benevolent being. He figured gods must not be too big of a deal in this world…though, he hadn’t heard tell of any others.
Still, if Prometheus said their guide was legit, then their guide was legit. But he wasn’t giving up his underwear. The Valreaper’s sword, Heritage armor, and Goti’s Umbrella were one thing, but his underwear was another.
The guide shrugged and stuffed everything into what could only be described as a worn, hard-backed suitcase.
Giving up his beloved musket to the guide, Timmy looked apprehensive, so Jimmy put a hand on his shoulder and gave a reaffirming nod. His brother cracked a smile and Jimmy knew all the bullshit was worth it. His brother had started smiling since coming to this world.
Granted, he smiled while gnashing on a stick of rawhide, but Jimmy’d take his miracles where he could get them.
The guide reached into his pocket and muttered something indecipherable. Then he held up a black rock, a very familiar black rock filled with runes and inscriptions. Claiming it was some kind of ‘passport’, he completed his incantation and the suitcase holding everyone’s belongings disappeared.
The next thing Jimmy knew, the plains vanished. They’d all been teleported to a town filled with yellowish-green huts.
And he was butt naked. Son of a bitch!
