The Strategic Trip
Author: Soeltan Putra
last update2026-08-11 22:37:26

The crossbow bolts whistled through the air, but they didn’t hit Ryan. They hit the oak tree, thudding into the bark with enough force to make the trunk shudder.

Ryan dove behind a patch of thorny briars, his tuxedo jacket ripping with a sound like a cheap curtain.

"Bruh! Are you for real?" Ryan shrieked, his voice cracking. "That’s some toxic behavior, my guys! Can’t we just vibe and talk this out?"

The lead bandit, a man with a nose that looked like it had been flattened by a hammer, spat on the ground. "Vibe? You’re wearing silk in the woods, kid. You’re loot. Hand over the watch and the funeral fit, or you’re checking out early."

"It’s literally a burial suit!" Ryan shouted, scrambling backward. "It’s cursed or something! You want the jinx? You can have it!"

"Less talking, more dying!" another bandit yelled, lunging forward with a rusted serrated blade.

Ryan panicked. He didn't know how to fight, but he did know how to flail. As the attacker closed the distance, Ryan backpedaled, his shredded dress shoes catching on a thick, moss-covered root. He tipped backward, his arms windmilling in a desperate attempt to find purchase. His hand slammed into a low-hanging branch, jerking it violently.

Directly above the lead bandit’s head, a massive, football-sized hornets’ nest shook loose from its moorings. It plummeted with the grace of a bowling ball, landing squarely on the bandit captain’s shoulders.

"Yo, check the air support!" Ryan yelled, scrambling to his feet as the nest shattered.

"My eyes! My face! They’re everywhere!" The captain shrieked, batting at his own head.

"Is he... is he getting swarmed?" one of the other bandits asked, dropping his crossbow to cover his ears.

"Get them off! Get them off, you useless clowns!" the captain screamed, spinning in a chaotic circle.

Ryan blinked, watching the carnage unfold. "Bruh, that’s actually tragic. You guys need a medic or something? Maybe some antihistamines?"

"It’s a curse! The suit-wearing ghost summoned the stinging death!" a bandit howled, backing away toward the ridge.

"I didn't summon nothing!" Ryan protested, though his heart was racing. "Nature just hates you guys, fam! That’s a major L!"

The bandits, now completely derailed by the swarm, began to retreat in a blind, terrified stampede. The captain, still obscured by a cloud of angry, buzzing hornets, ran blindly toward the edge of the clearing. He didn't see the sudden drop-off of the Whispering Ravine.

"Wait, don't run that way! That’s literally a cliff!" Ryan shouted, pointing a shaky finger.

The captain didn't listen. He hit the edge, his boots scrabbling for traction, and then, with a cartoonish look of betrayal, he plummeted into the darkness of the gorge. The other four bandits, blinded by panic and the encroaching swarm, didn't even slow down. They followed their leader over the edge, their high-pitched screams fading into the depths of the forest.

Silence returned to the clearing, punctuated only by the distant, angry buzzing of a few remaining hornets.

Ryan stood alone, chest heaving, his tuxedo shredded to ribbons. "Did... did I just win? That’s lowkey cracked."

He looked down at his hands. The faint blue pulse was still there, flickering under his skin like a dying lightbulb.

"Okay, status check," Ryan whispered, squinting at the air. "Is there a menu? A notification? Anything?"

A translucent blue screen popped into his peripheral vision, shimmering with text that looked like it belonged in a budget RPG.

[QUEST COMPLETE: SURVIVE THE AMBUSH]

[REWARD: 50 EXP (LEVEL UP!) | SKILL UNLOCKED: "CLUMSY DIVINITY"]

[DESCRIPTION: YOUR LACK OF COORDINATION IS SO PROFOUND IT ALTERS REALITY. ENEMY AI IS CONFUSED BY YOUR ERRATIC MOVEMENTS.]

"Clumsy Divinity? That’s the most disrespectful thing I’ve ever heard," Ryan muttered, tapping the air to close the window. "I’m not clumsy, I’m just... creatively mobile."

He wiped a smear of dirt from his forehead. "I need a sandwich, a shower, and a new life. In that order."

Before he could take a step toward the treeline, the sound of heavy iron-shod boots crunched on the forest floor. Ryan froze. The Sheriff’s posse? Or something worse?

A man emerged from the shadows. He was dressed in ornate, gleaming plate armor that caught the moonlight with an aggressive sheen. A long, red cape draped over his shoulders, and his jawline was so sharp it could probably cut through a budget deficit. This wasn't a bandit. This was military, top-tier quality.

The man surveyed the clearing, the broken hornets' nest, the discarded crossbows, and the deep, dark ravine where the bandits had met their end. He looked at Ryan, his eyes narrowing with a mix of shock and intense professional respect.

"Incredible," the man whispered, his voice deep and resonant.

"Uh, hey," Ryan said, trying to stand in a way that didn't look like he’d just fallen out of a grave. "I can explain the mess. It was a massive skill issue on their part."

The man stepped forward, sheathing his sword with a clean, metallic clink. He bowed deeply, his crimson cape sweeping the dirt.

"Captain Valerius, of the Royal Vanguard," the man said, his gaze fixed on Ryan with terrifying intensity. "I tracked these bandits for three weeks. They were hardened killers, cunning and cold-blooded. Yet, you dismantled them without drawing a single blade."

Ryan scratched his head, his hand brushing against a piece of graveyard ivy still stuck in his hair. "I mean, I mostly just tripped, fam. You’re overthinking it."

Valerius shook his head slowly, a grim smile touching his lips. "The 'I am merely a fool' strategy. A classic tactical bluff. To utilize the terrain so perfectly, to bait them into a suicidal charge, and to wield the local fauna as a weapon of mass destruction... I have never seen such mastery of forest warfare."

Ryan stared at him, bewildered. "Are you hearing me? I didn't bait nobody. I was just trying to not get shot."

"Modesty," Valerius said, his eyes glinting. "The mark of a true hero. My scouts told me a man returned from the grave in the town square. I thought it was a campfire tall tale."

Valerius walked toward the edge of the ravine and peered down into the darkness, then back at Ryan.

"The King has been searching for a champion to navigate the Whispering Woods. Most men would have perished against that patrol. You, however... you didn't even break a sweat."

"I broke a nail, actually," Ryan countered, holding up his hand. "And I’m starving, bro. Does the King have a cafeteria? Like, with pizza?"

Valerius stiffened, his expression shifting from awe to something almost reverent. "He will have whatever you desire, Champion. Come. My carriage is waiting at the edge of the woods. The world is falling into chaos, and you are exactly the kind of chaotic variable we need."

Ryan sighed, looking back at the dark, silent forest. He didn't want to go to a palace. He didn't want to be a champion. He wanted to go home and play games, but the status menu in his vision was currently flashing a new notification in bright, neon red.

[NEW MAIN QUEST: THE KING’S INVITATION]

[OBJECTIVE: SURVIVE THE ROYAL COURT]

[WARNING: THE KING IS CURRENTLY 'HOSTILE' TO YOUR EXISTENCE.]

Ryan’s throat went dry. "Wait, the King is hostile? Why would you tell me that now?"

Valerius clapped a heavy, armored hand onto Ryan’s shoulder, his grip like a vice. "Let’s just say, Champion, that if you can handle a few bandits, you can handle a few political backstabs. Shall we?"

Ryan felt the hum in his veins spike again, a surge of blue energy that made his teeth ache. He realized, with a sinking feeling, that the "Divine Official" hadn't just sent him back to live. He’d sent him back to be the main target in a game that was rigged from the start.

"Fine," Ryan whispered, glancing at the blue screen. "But if there’s no pizza at this palace, I’m quitting."

Valerius led him toward the treeline, his footsteps echoing like a funeral march. Ryan walked beside him, his tuxedo flapping in the wind, his heart beating a rhythm that sounded suspiciously like a countdown.

As they reached the edge of the woods, a massive, black carriage pulled by two skeletal horses waited in the clearing. The coachman, a figure in a heavy hood, tipped his hat.

"Welcome back, Hero," the coachman rasped, his voice sounding like dry leaves blowing over a gravestone.

Ryan climbed into the carriage, his legs trembling. As the door slammed shut, the blue light in the air intensified, swirling around his body until the cabin was bathed in an eerie, electric glow.

The carriage lurched forward, and Ryan realized the ride wasn't just taking him to the King. It was taking him deeper into a game he didn't know how to play.

"Yo," Ryan said to the empty cabin, his voice barely audible. "Is there anyone even running this server? Because I’m about to break the game."

The carriage jolted as it hit the main road, and outside the window, the trees began to bleed shadow. Ryan wasn't just a survivor anymore. He was the most dangerous glitch in the kingdom, and the King was already waiting with the patch notes.

Continue to read this book for free
Scan the code to download the app

Latest Chapter

  • The Bureaucratic Boss Fight

    The wooden bridge groaned under Ryan’s feet, its warped planks defying every known law of timber architecture as the dark, rushing water below flowed upward in a jerky, twenty-four-frame-per-second stutter. Ryan adjusted his crumpled tuxedo, clutching the shard of blue light like a commuter clutching a delayed subway pass. Ahead of him, blocking the narrow span, stood the regional toll administrator, a man whose face bore the permanent, soul-crushing scowl of a DMV worker who had been trapped in his booth since the Pliocene epoch."Halt," the administrator rasped, holding out a parchment ledger that looked like it had been chewed by digital rats. "Toll must be paid in coin bearing the current fiscal seal of the High Registry. Your currency is outdated."Ryan stared at the man, his eyes bloodshot from a sheer lack of cooperative physics. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of miscellaneous metal, dropping a tarnished coin onto the wooden desk."Look, my guy," Ryan said,

  • The Edge of the World

    The shard of blue light in Ryan’s hand hummed with the frequency of a corrupted hard drive, casting a strobe-light effect over the dissolving bridge. The knight made of static lunged, his blade, a jagged strip of broken pixels, slicing through the air where Ryan’s head had been a millisecond before.Ryan rolled, his dress shoes screeching against the now-invincible stone. He didn’t feel like a hero. He felt like a guy who’d just realized his rent was going to skyrocket because the landlord was literally deleting the building."Yo, watch the suit, man!" Ryan yelled, scrambling back as a chunk of reality behind him turned into a rain of harmless zeros and ones. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to get dry-cleaning in a dying dimension? This is a premium tuxedo!""The tuxedo is a construct, mortal," the static-knight boomed, his voice a distorted, multi-track recording. "Like your existence. You are a patch that has failed to stabilize. The Architect demands a full system scrub."Ryan

  • Divine Correspondence

    The white void stretched out like a blank canvas waiting for a bad artist to ruin it. Ryan clutched the shifting, chromatic letter, his heart hammering against his ribs. The silence wasn’t just quiet; it was deafening, the kind of stillness that made his ears ring with digital static."Admin privileges? Is this a joke?" Ryan muttered, his voice sounding thin in the infinite nothingness. "Bruh, I’m literally trying to figure out if I can get a decent meal, and you’re dropping 'Architect' level lore on me? That’s some serious main character trauma I didn't opt into."The letter pulsed in his hands, the ink flowing like a liquid LED display."Read it, you absolute clown," a voice boomed. It didn't come from behind him; it vibrated inside his teeth. "You’ve been a test subject. A lucky, messy, glitchy test subject. We wanted to see what happens when a bottom-tier variable gets 'Protector' status. It’s been comedy gold."Ryan scanned the shifting text, his eyes widening. "Comedy gold? You’

  • Propaganda and Pancakes

    The tavern’s silence was heavy enough to crush a man, but Ryan didn't care. He walked past the frozen patrons, his boots clacking against the wood like a funeral march. He slid into a booth, ignoring the way the air seemed to vibrate with sheer, unadulterated awe."Yo," Ryan called out to the barkeep, who was currently holding a mop in a state of catatonic shock. "You guys serving, or are you just here for the NPC roleplay? I need pancakes. Like, a stack the size of a small skyscraper, with extra syrup."The barkeep blinked, then dropped the mop. It hit the floor with a wet thud that echoed like a cannon shot. "The... the pancake. The circular emblem of the sun he brings to the dawn of battle."Ryan groaned, burying his face in his hands. "It’s breakfast, my guy. It’s not an emblem. It’s flour, eggs, and a lack of better options. Can we skip the lore and get to the batter?"A woman at the next table, wearing a bonnet that looked like it had been through a shredder, stood up. She start

  • The Demon King's Appraisal

    The sky above the forest stuttered, flickering like a dying fluorescent bulb in a basement that hadn’t been cleaned since the dawn of time. Ryan stood in the middle of the path, watching the world glitch into jagged shards of static."Bruh, are you serious right now?" Ryan shouted at the flickering horizon. "I just wanted a quick nap, and now the whole render distance is acting goofy? This is literally the worst service ever."He turned to stomp back toward the inn, his dress shoes clicking sharply against the gravel. A hunched figure huddled in the shadows of an ancient oak, draped in rags that looked like they had been salvaged from a dumpster fire. As Ryan approached, the beggar didn't move, but a pair of eyes—eyes that shimmered with a sickly, subterranean violet—fixed onto him."You there," the beggar rasped, his voice sounding like gravel being crushed in a blender. "The one who walks between the light and the static. The King of Aethelgard is a fool, but I seek to know... what

  • The Scholar's Study

    The mountain air was thin and biting, but it wasn't the cold that made Ryan shiver. It was the fact that five men in heavy, ink-stained robes were currently shoving parchment and charcoal under his nose, their eyes wide with a terrifying, scholarly hunger."The trajectory, Hero!" the lead scholar gasped, his quill scratching furiously against a scroll. "When you propelled the mineral fragment at the stalactite, you didn't calculate for wind shear. How did you compensate for the lack of arc? Was it a sensory prediction, or did you manipulate the very air currents?"Ryan stared at the man, his face a mask of profound, hungry exhaustion. "Bruh, it was a rock. I threw it. Gravity did the rest. Can y’all like, chill with the vibe check? I’m literally starving."" 'Gravity did the rest,' " the scholar repeated, scribbling frantically. "A dismissal of physics! He treats the fundamental laws of nature as mere suggestions. Such hubris! Such... efficiency!""It’s not hubris, it’s just me being

More Chapter
Explore and read good novels for free
Free access to a vast number of good novels on MegaNovel app. Download the books you like and read anywhere & anytime.
Read books for free on the app
Scan code to read on App