Thinking back, the game series from Azerna Chronicles 14 onwards was never just about Leo alone.

Sure, Leo was a playable character who couldn’t leave the party or be removed at any point. He was deliberately designed to be a character that players could easily immerse themselves in. But that didn’t mean other characters couldn’t be utilized either.

You could set other characters in the party as the lead, changing which one appeared in the field. This allowed you to take advantage of field-specific mechanics, like attacking monsters first to steal the initiative or sneaking up from behind to stun them. These were quite important for gameplay.

For most strategies, players often selected a long-range character instead of the sword-wielding protagonist to begin battles by hitting monsters from a distance, like Mia Crowfield, who fired ice arrows as her basic attack.

And among the party members, not a single character ever said things like, "I won’t go in there, it’s filthy," or, "I don’t want to enter smelly places." Not even when they had to crawl through a ventilation shaft. This included princesses or guest characters like Jennifer.

"......"

"......"

"......"

So, my assumption that they would give up because of the overwhelming stench was extremely foolish.

About ten minutes after entering the sewers, I was already regretting it.

The two people following behind me, possessing superhuman physical abilities, were likely unfazed by the smell. But for someone like me, who barely qualified as “superhuman,” this was torture. Even that "barely" was just my guess—I couldn’t be sure how accurate it was.

I seriously considered rewinding time during those ten minutes, but... I decided against it in the end.

It felt like this:

Like starting a game on the hardest difficulty, only to hit a wall during a boss fight due to poor strategies, experiencing a few party wipes, and then seeing the message "Would you like to reset to a lower difficulty?" on the screen. The developers likely put that message there hoping players wouldn’t give up, but seeing it stung my pride. Even though no one was watching, and I wasn’t streaming the game, I still felt embarrassed at the thought of pressing that button.

Even though I’d eventually need to complete multiple playthroughs to write a proper guide, and I could still earn those difficulty-related medals later.

In the end, with the same feeling as selecting “No” and trying again, I didn’t rewind time this time either.

The fortunate thing was that the two people behind me didn’t seem to have the energy to speak to me. If they opened their mouths, that nasty stench would probably flood in. You can’t really smell through your mouth, but you know that gross, uncomfortable feeling that comes with it.

“This way,” I said, careful to avoid any long pauses. Though they didn’t respond, I could still hear their footsteps continuing behind me.

At this point, it would be tricky to leave on my own, even if I wanted to. The path we’d taken to get here was complicated enough. While it wasn’t exactly a maze, it was confusing for a first-timer.

Yes, “for a first-timer.”

But I wasn’t a first-timer.

There were parts of the map that differed from my memory. The low-resolution textures in the game hadn’t given off such a disgusting feeling. And while it was supposed to be dark, it wasn’t so dark that you couldn’t see anything, like in a horror game.

Actually, if anything, the brightness was more like having a fluorescent light turned on. Since it wasn’t a horror game, adding such a frustrating gimmick wouldn’t have gone over well.

In the game, the minimap would light up block by block as you entered each area, showing you the way forward, and it was clear enough that players rarely got lost. It was only when you forgot a gimmick and had to backtrack that it became annoying.

In contrast, the sewers we were walking through now were very different from the game, especially in terms of atmosphere.

It wasn’t so dark that you couldn’t see ahead. Judging by the occasional signs of maintenance, people clearly came through here. There were faintly glowing magic lamps scattered around.

However, the spaces between the lamps were pitch dark. The water that flowed through the sewers was... revolting. I could occasionally see what looked like cockroaches scurrying along the floor.

Still, the layout itself was exactly as I remembered it.

I didn’t know what was beyond some of the iron gates that blocked certain paths. But that didn’t matter, because in the game, those areas weren’t accessible either.

This was a dungeon I had cleared many times while writing guides.

Of course, that didn’t mean I remembered it all like a navigation system—it had been ten years, after all.

But I did remember the really important parts. I had written them down in my notebook right after coming to this world.

"Do you know where you’re going?" Alice asked in a slightly uneasy voice.

"Yes, of course," I answered confidently.

At least I knew where we were. If we went deeper, there would be real monsters. But they wouldn’t be a problem for now. It was still too early in the game for that. The monsters would only become an issue later.

And besides...

Even if they did show up, it wouldn’t be a big deal.

In the game, monsters were considered strong because of their "levels." But in reality, that didn’t apply. Azerna Chronicles wasn’t an open-world game where you freely roamed vast fields, adventuring. The monsters were tied to specific regions that opened up based on your progress. Their levels weren’t meant to block players from entering too early—they were there to match the strength of the protagonist by that point in the story.

And since this wasn’t a turn-based game where I had to stand still and take hits from swords and bullets, the crossbow bolts I fired would kill the creatures here.

“This is the place.”

We turned sharply and entered a small room.

Why there was a room like this in a sewer, I didn’t know. In the game, this sewer functioned as a dungeon for adventuring, so its presence made sense. But in real life, there was no reason for such a space to exist.

...Well, maybe it was some sort of storage area. The sewer was long and wide, so perhaps they’d built resting spots along the way.

The room wasn’t locked, and inside were a few scattered pieces of garbage and a single closed chest.

The chest looked almost identical to the ones that appeared in the game containing items.

In the middle of the dark, empty room, the chest stood eerily alone.

“...A chest?” Alice muttered behind me, but I didn’t answer. I approached the chest.

A thick layer of dust had settled on it. You could probably draw pictures in the dust with your finger.

I pulled a pair of black leather gloves from my pocket and slipped them on.

Then, slowly, I crouched and opened the chest.

It opened easily, without any resistance. There was no special lock on it.

That much was the same as in the game.

“...”

I confirmed that my memory had been correct, but seeing it in person left me feeling strange.

How long had this chest been here? Who had placed it, and why had it remained even as the rest of the room became so desolate?

I reached into the chest and pulled out the item inside.

“Huh?”

“What’s that...?”

It was a Marmaros.

The item in my hand was a Marmaros.

It wasn’t particularly expensive or rare compared to the ones that appeared later in the game.

But in reality, this Marmaros was an extraordinary item. In the later stages of the game, all sorts of chaotic events occurred in the Empire, offering many chances to acquire rare Marmaroses, and perhaps the same would happen in this world. But for now, this was an item you couldn’t easily purchase, even with money.

The perfectly spherical, blue Marmaros was so cold that I could feel the chill even through my gloves. If I had touched it with bare hands, it wouldn’t have injured me, but it would have been like holding a can of soda fresh from the refrigerator—cold enough to make my hands ache.

This Marmaros was far stronger than the fire-type one I had received from Jennifer. In the game, Mia Crowfield equipped it on her staff to enhance her ice-based attacks during the mid-game.

In the game, it slightly boosted ice magic damage, but in reality, it would be much more dangerous.

“Why is something like that here?” Charlotte asked, stepping closer. In the game’s lore, Marmaroses could be embedded into magical weapons. If I had secretly taken this one and forged a weapon with it, I could have carried it around without anyone knowing.

...If someone else had found this instead of me, it could have been dangerous. Is it more dangerous than a gun? Hard to say, but it’s definitely valuable.

Charlotte wasn’t just asking why this item was here. She was questioning how I knew it was here.

I glanced at both Charlotte and Alice. Their faces were lit by the light from the magic lamps, and both were full of suspicion.

Until now, I could have explained everything as “luck” or “skill.” But coming here, to this specific spot, was a different matter entirely.

I could only have known this was here from the start.

And this room was covered in dust, suggesting it had been abandoned for a long time. There was no way someone could have set this up for me recently.

So it wasn’t surprising that Charlotte asked.

“How did you know this was here?”

That was the essence of her question.

“I’ll explain later,” I said, placing the Marmaros in my coat pocket.

In doing so, I was essentially losing the main reason to keep wearing the coat, but... well, I couldn’t just carry it in my hand either.

As I turned toward the door,

Thud.

Someone blocked my way.

Without even looking, I knew it was Alice.

“Tell me,” she said, her eyes filled with determination as she stared at me.

“How did you know that item was here? I won’t move until you explain.”

“......”

Hmm.

How should I handle this?