The Extra's Harem In Dead End Game

My steps stopped in front of an old, two-story wooden building.

*Turkish Swordsman.*

As the sign indicated, this was a swordsmanship center—a place where people are taught swordsmanship in exchange for money.

Of course, not all swordsmen were the same. The swordsmanship of those with some degree of martial arts fame was at least intermediate level because they had their own class.

That meant the owner of this shabby swordsmanship shop, located in a low-level area, wasn't exactly anonymous.

I knew that, but the fact that I visited meant there was something special about this swordsmanship center.

"I will go in," I said, making a noise as I opened the door and stepped inside.

Although it was narrow, it immediately felt like a place for swordsmanship training. The walls and floor were clean, indicating they had been carefully maintained.

The problem was… there were no people.

Not a single person was in sight, even though they should have been training hard and shouting. Only flies seemed to occupy the space.

"Oh my, welcome!" A man warmly welcomed me, despite the situation. A long scar on his forehead was noticeable.

This was my first time seeing him in person—my first sword master, the one who would teach me the basics.

*Clank—!*

"I came to learn."

"Welcome, customer!" The weight of his words seemed to decrease a bit.

* * *

Turk.

He was a rather peculiar man.

A former soldier of the Hyass Empire, he had lived as a mercenary after retiring from the military, and as he grew older, he opened a swordsmanship school.

What was unusual about him wasn't his résumé. It was the swordsmanship he used throughout his life that made him unique: Imperial Type 8.

This was the traditional swordsmanship of the Empire that every soldier learned.

Basic swordsmanship consisting of fundamental movements like downward slashes, upward slashes, diagonal slashes, left and right slashes, and stabbing.

It was such a common swordsmanship technique that it wasn't even worth evaluating.

If I were to translate the world's evaluation, it would be that it was a solid swordsmanship, good for beginners to learn the basics before advancing to full-fledged swordsmanship.

That was the extent of the evaluation, and that's how people treated it—a swordsmanship that even beginners wouldn't bother with.

There were many swordsmanship styles in the world that had great power or flashy techniques, but people didn't pay attention to them.

However, one person was different: Turk.

He steadfastly stuck to the Imperial 8th Style even when his fellow soldiers switched to other swordsmanship styles in pursuit of greater power. The same was true when he lived as a mercenary.

There was only one reason for this: He had once almost lost his life on a fierce battlefield as a rookie soldier, but the Imperial Type 8 saved him.

Since then, he had relied solely on the Imperial Type 8, the style that had saved his life, and spent his entire life mastering it.

Thanks to that, he became a master of the Imperial Type 8, which meant he had mastered the basics.

'True Master... No, it's basic, basic master,' I thought.

Mastering the basics was one trait, a trait that could only be acquired by mastering the fundamentals of that field. In Turk's case, he was the owner of the basic mastery of sword fighting.

But basic mastery wasn't just a trait—it was a hidden one.

It increased growth limits in the relevant field, accelerated growth speed, and even provided a small increase in skill power. A crazy option that had only the best parts with nothing to throw away.

Leaving everything else aside, one must pursue this trait to prevent stagnation in growth.

The problem was that this trait was hidden.

There was no clear information about who owned it or how to obtain it. If I hadn't restarted countless times and tried different approaches, I probably wouldn't have known.

But eventually, I figured it out—who the master was who could help me master the basics.

Among them, the man in front of me was special because he was a truly wonderful teacher who could easily provide lessons just by paying money.

"I'll pay in advance," I said.

"Are you talking about a month's worth?" Turk asked, his smile revealing his capitalist nature.

"No."

"Then?"

"Until I feel like it's over."

"That...." Turk scratched his head in confusion.

"Take it."

I placed twenty gold coins on the counter—a total of 20 gold.

A huge sum of money, completely out of place for tuition at such a shabby swordsmanship school.

This was not a waste; it was a courtesy to the teacher who had taught me hundreds of times. And I knew that he needed money.

"This, this is…." Turk's eyes widened.

He seemed to momentarily wrestle with his conscience due to his financial struggles, but he soon shook his head.

"I can never accept this much money."

"I decide how much to pay."

"No, how could that be…?"

"Here it is."

"No matter what you say, I can't accept this much money. In the first place, the only swordsmanship I can teach you is…."

"Imperial Type 8."

Turk looked at me, surprised by my words.

"That's enough. That's what I came here to learn."

* * *

"20% flew away," I grumbled, cursing the wasteful nature of it all.

I had wondered if someone else could handle it for me, so I tried having Dolph do it earlier, but the 20% penalty was still gone.

It seems I can't avoid the curse of wastefulness.

"Well, it's a shame, but there's nothing I can do about it."

As I muttered to myself, walking along the narrow path of the lower class, I noticed the silhouette of a young woman with blue hair across the street.

Old and shabby clothing, but even those couldn't hide her beauty. Her appearance felt like a single blue flower blooming in a dirty street.

I knew her. And she would know me too.

Why? Because we go to same Academy.

'We met sooner than expected,' I thought.

I had expected to run into her someday.

"...You?"

The first named heroine of this game I encountered—a genius magician who, among all the characters in the second year, the protagonist must prioritize building relationships with.

Elaine of fire and ice.

The first expression on her face was one of incomprehension at seeing me here.

"I guess this is where we meet," I said, trying to make my expression natural, though it was my first time seeing her in person.

The Elaine I knew was a kind person.

Although she grew up in a difficult family environment, she had a bright and positive personality without any shadows.

Her grades were excellent, and her relationships with her classmates were also good. A senior who became close to the main character and sincerely encouraged and even helped him whenever he faced difficulties.

Knowing all of that, I even had a smile on my face.

"Anyway, it's nice to meet you…."

"Will you just shut up?"

The first words she spoke were not so beautiful.

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