I woke up that morning on a warm bed, which was nice for a change, as I'd slept on nothing but grass and rock ever since I was transported to this world. How kind of her, I thought as I remembered the NPC I interacted with yesterday. "Ugh," I groaned as I began to shiver uncontrolbly. I just wanted to y on the bed forever, never venturing out, exploring, or leveling up ever again. Sure, it would be the end of my new life, but I'd rather do that than py on Adaptive Mode. I'm the unluckiest person alive.

  Everst Dynasty was... unique. In some ways, there was not a game like it in all the Earth, and all pyers could attest to that fact. This uniqueness stemmed from a special game setting notorious for its overwhelming difficulty, Adaptive Mode. And even calling it overwhelming was nothing but an understatement. In pin terms, it was unbeatable, as everyone who attempted it either gave up or quit the game afterward. Some even started calling it the Unbeatable Game because of it, but despite its notoriety, it didn't stop pyers from trying. I remember watching top pyers attempting it on their streams with my friends, and at a gnce, Adaptive Mode was no different than pying the game normally.

  It started like normal, and they all had the same reaction: "Is this what everyone has been calling unbeatable? It's easy!" But as they progressed, the game only got harder and harder. The AI was smart to the point of being creepy, and enemies constantly adapted. But wait! There was more! Even if you managed to overcome all those hurdles, you would encounter one of three special bosses that only appeared in Adaptive Mode. I remembered the stream vividly and how I'd hoped never to find myself in that situation. Molotov, a top Russian pyer at the time, and his team of 743 pyers were up against the Leviathan, one of the special bosses. It was a battle that went down in infamy, as no one could truly expin what happened. Strength was meaningless. Magic did not work, and even the very best offensive skills, like the assassin's [Killing Strike], were rendered useless. In the end, all 743 pyers were wiped out, and Molotov quit the game after that.

  It was hard to identify at first, but eventually, the difference became clear. What differentiated the two modes of py? NPC behavior. If you were pying the game normally, NPCs would act as they were expected to. They would use the same lines and perform the same actions that we were all familiar with as pyers. On the other hand, NPCs were strange and humanlike in Adaptive Mode. They never repeated dialogue, showed different emotions, and if you looked hard enough, you would find some wild things these guys were up to behind the scenes.

  I csped my hands in prayer and pleaded, God? Oh, wait, that's right. This is a game world, so you're probably the Developer here, right? Please save me from this unfortunate lot! I have been transported to this unforgiving world against my will as the weakest css! Just then, my desperate plea was interrupted by a knock on the door.

  The old woman walked in soon after with a bowl of soup in her hands and a smile on her face as she asked, "Is everything alright?" Normally, I would have just lied to her about how I was feeling, but I couldn't bring myself to do it as I opened up to her,

  "Yesterday, I saw for the first time just how dangerous my situation was. Before that, I'd been living recklessly, jumping into things blindly, and somehow managing to escape with my life intact, but now, I don't even know what to think anymore. I am weak and suffer from many limitations, both physical and self-imposed, and I'd rather just py things safe at this point."

  The old woman gave me her full attention as I spoke to her, seemingly absorbing every word with keen interest as she wore a kind smile on her face. It was almost soothing, even. Then, she slowly nodded and started by saying, "Life is full of risk, and what most don't realize is that there is an element of risk to every choice you make. Even "pying it safe" has its own risks. For instance, you could very well live the rest of your days imagining what could have been. Worse yet, who's to say the danger won't come and find you in the illusion of safety you have created for yourself? I don't know your circumstances well enough to give you advice, so I will leave you with this: weigh the options yourself carefully and choose the best path." Then, she dropped the bowl of soup in my hands, smiled, and left the room gracefully.

  I drank the soup with tears overflowing from my eyes that morning. They wouldn't stop no matter how hard I tried, and I kept saying, "Thank you" under my breath over and over again. That morning, her wisdom had saved me, and I swore to myself that I would repay the favor.