I, the Weakest Human, Start with a Hundredfold Bonus Talent！

"What's wrong, still feeling uneasy?"

John had remained silt throughout the journey, prompting Elaria to ask curiously, "Are you worried about us?"

"Well... a bit, I guess I've developed a habitual way of thinking."

John exhaled deeply, gazing into the distance at the half-destroyed Mine No. 3. An inexplicable sse of irritation welled up inside him.

This feeling came without reason, leaving John himself unsure of what was bothering him.

His expression grew more rigid, making it difficult for him to bld in with the others.

Noticing John's odd behavior, Exiled Immortal quickly caught up to him and gtly patted his shoulder.

"John, ever since you returned from the underworld, I've ssed something off about you. What exactly happed? Tell us about it. Talking it out might help you feel a bit better."

"What happed... where should I begin? So many things happed, it's like my worldview was trampled on."

John gave a bitter smile, slowing his pace alongside Exiled Immortal. He said in a somber tone, "In the underworld, I saw [gods] and witnessed their overwhelming power, a power that evokes despair. I can't fathom how we could ever hope to resist them."

"Saw... [gods]?"

Exiled Immortal swallowed hard, eyes filled with disbelief.

"John, could it have be a hallucination?"

"I wish it were, but... unfortunately, it wasn't. The lord of the underworld, Hades, the Norse god of war, Tyr, the goddess of death, Hera—those names from myths stood right before me, shattering all my illusions.

I can't help but wonder, what has happed to this world?

Why are we forced to partake in this damned game, risking our lives for a future that seems almost hopeless?"

"And those beings who control us at will, deciding our life and death, why must they do this? I can't understand, I really can't. Maybe this is a question I will never get an answer to."

As he finished speaking, John could clearly feel the group's mood turn heavy.

He could only give a helpless smile and say, "Ah, what am I ev complaining about? Just ignore what I said, treat it as the ramblings of a madman."

"John..."

Lily gtly bit her lip and took my hand, softly comforting, "How about we go back, John? Take a good rest and don't put so much pressure on yourself. None of this is your fault."

"Yeah, John, putting too much pressure on yourself will only drive you crazy. I might not fully understand the boundaries betwe illusion and reality you speak of. To me, everything here is real, as real as can be.

But I think, no matter the reason, any god who destroys your home and forces you into this world is a complete jerk!

So, if you've lost your sse of purpose, let me give you one: revge. Make that jerk who caused all this pay!" Old Mac said, pulling out a medal embedded with a fiery red gem from his pocket and gtly pressing it against John's chest.

"This is..."

"It was my father's, made from a dragon's eye, symbolizing great courage. I'm giving it to you, hoping it will help you find your strgth."

Looking at the medal, as brilliant as the sun in the sky, John felt a warmth in his heart.

"Uncle Mac, I can't..."

"Can't what? I'm giving it to you, it belongs to you. It would be wasted with me.

My father, Court Sanders, was a dwarf who vowed to climb Mount Olympus. He once said something very philosophical to me: 'Wh I reach the top of Mount Olympus, I will be taller than anyone else in the world.'

But actually, my father, despite all his efforts, had limited talt, not ev as much as mine. But so what?

"Wh I came of age, my father traveled with the advturing party, willing to do the dirtiest and most exhausting work, during ridicule and scorn, just to keep his journey going.

I hadn't se my father for many years. The last time I saw that great dwarf was wh his body lay in a simple coffin.

Smart as you are, John, I think you can understand the real meaning behind my words. Whether dwarf, elf, or what you call NPCs and players, we are not so differt.

Everyone is a slave to something—dreams, beliefs, anger, or freedom.

We must place our hope in something; otherwise, we cannot survive."

With that, Old Mac seemed to fall into some memories, letting out a long sigh.

Seeing this, no one wanted to disturb him. They slowed their pace, giving Uncle Mac some time to reminisce.

By the time they reached Mine No. 3, it was already noon.

The scorching sun hung in one corner of the sky. Those wearing heat-absorbing bracelets might not feel the intse heat, but ev Old Mac, who spt years in the workshop, was now sweating profusely.

"Damn it, why is it so hot!"

Old Mac wiped his furry beard, now stuck to his cheeks from the sweat, looking rather disheveled.

Elaria's cheeks were also flushed, and her breathing became increasingly rapid. For the elves who worship nature, this extreme climate was too cruel.

"Uncle Mac, wasn't the temperature on the blazing plains this high in previous years? It's called the blazing plains for a reason."

John stepped forward and handed his heat-absorbing bracelet to Elaria. The momt he took it off, he felt a wave of heat hit him, almost making it hard to breathe.

However, no matter how hot it got, John wouldn't fall into a debuff state; this was the power granted to him by Hades.

"I'm fine..."

"Keep it on, you'll get heatstroke otherwise."

John gave a bitter smile, pinched Elaria's flushed cheeks, and said softly, "Don't worry about me."

"Of course! The currt temperature is no differt from wh I'm forging weapons in the workshop. It's eerily hot; something's definitely wrong! Something must have happed."

Old Mac spoke with conviction, pointing towards Mine No. 3, which was now within sight.

He continued, "It looks like the heat is coming from inside the mine. We must be careful. Ordinary things can't cause such an abnormal temperature."

...

Meanwhile, inside Mine No. 3!

[Deception] looked at the scorching magma beath his feet and, without a momt's hesitation, jumped straight in.

However, the imagined scario of being instantly swallowed by the magma and melted into a pool of blood did not happ.

On the contrary, [Deception]'s body continued to sink.

As he was fully submerged in the magma, a sudd ssation of weightlessness came over him.

"Found you!"

The messger of [God of Fire and Craftsmanship Hephaestus]!

"This aura... Ha, so it's those maggots from the [Abyss]. I could smell the stch of decay from afar."

"Oh, oh, oh, that's not very polite. I came here with the inttion of making frids, and this is how you treat your guest?"

[Deception] walked forward, casually picking up a dagger about the lgth of a forearm, and examined it closely.

"The blade is sharp, gleaming with a cold light, and the weight is just right. It's neither too light to be uncomfortable nor too heavy to exhaust one's strgth.

I must say, it lives up to being crafted by the hand of Hephaestus's messger.

It's an exceptional weapon in both appearance and functionality."

"Put it down. A fool like you isn't qualified to appreciate my work. State your purpose, [Deception]. Have you come seeking cooperation, or to challge me?

If it's the former, you can leave now. I'm not interested in collaborating with the [Abyss].

If it's the latter, I hope you're ready to leave your life here."

As he spoke, [Divine Emissary] lifted his head, revealing a gigantic hammer in his hand. Just by looking at it, one could tell it weighed a thousand pounds!

If that hammer struck, it would likely be a death blow on the spot!