****(POV)

Hungry, so hungry!…

Would such torture ever stop? Such excruciating pain was hard to swallow. His belly had even given up on rumbling, for it was useless. His stomach felt even worse than empty and ached constantly. His brain reminded him of his alarming state every goddamn second.

Was it time to start a cult? At least he would get to eat his fill. No! She would have despised him had she known. Still, he was at the end of his rope. He was so close and yet so far to making a comeback. At least he was used to the hunger by now, not that it made it any better.

He could feel the shadow of death hovering above him. He'd have to make a decision soon. He glanced regretfully at the empty basket right next to him. He did so with extreme longing as if it was a lost lover.

Once upon a time, it used to be filled to the brim with coarse rice. Life was good then, oh so very good. Sometimes it had even been good quality rice!

How he yearned to fill this basket! Such a simple thing in life was all he currently desired. Nothing more, but was even that too much? Now, only remained emptiness, dust, and shattered hopes. Well, there remained the hunger, always.

He actually lived in a small temple, if one could call a one-room small building a temple. At least, it was extremely clean. So clean that there was no furniture, no appliance, no decoration, no light, nothing.

All that he had ever owned, he had sold already. There were a few exceptions to that. There was a statue, an old praying mat, and lots of amulets. Said statue was supposed to showcase a kind and gentle humanoid-looking deity but it was disappointing.

It seemed like the work of a child that was stone sculpting for the very first time. Actually, maybe that comparison was insulting to the child. Then again people didn't really care that much. No there were other reasons why they had stopped coming.

Without any visitor, the amulets he used to make had begun piling up. Such items were his sole income source with donations. He tried selling them at all costs but ultimately failed. He even tried to sell it all as wood to use as a fire starter. No one even wanted to touch them with a 10-foot pole.

From left to right it went: No visit ~ no amulet sold ~no food ~ losing the temple itself ~ a slow, painful and agonizing death. He was at the no food part. Of course, he could have begged but he was too proud. He would rather start a cult than do that.

Why would a monk ever think about such an alternative? Well, he had his reasons. Besides, he had already tried eating bugs and various birds but apparently people took offense to him hunting for some across the city.

His other plan was to head for the wild where he would clearly be able to be self-sufficient. The only thing holding him back was responsibility. He had promised a friend to take good care of this temple.

Every day he would look for a successor, someone that would be better suited to the task. He had issues that simply made it all impossible for him. Sadly, his quest had proved unsuccessful so far. People didn't give a shit about monks in general, especially with his reputation.

He wasn't actually supposed to be that destitute. Not only did he not have to pay rent for this place but he barely had any expenses either. Well, soon he'd be screwed because this temple would be considered a cultural heritage no more. He was running out of time.

He was in serious need of a job. He needed to eat and he wanted to print pamphlets to hand to passersby. He'd print "Free rent in exchange for small chores" on it. Temple duty counted as a chore, right?

He'd have to judge the candidates carefully too. He didn't care about them living as monks at all as long as they shared the true teachings and took care of the temple.

He was actually a man that was hardworking, it was just a twist of fate that had made him a monk. Of course, in this case, fate had been his mother.

When he was young, he had extreme trouble concentrating. He'd get distracted easily, his thoughts wandering everywhere akin to a leaf in the wind. Because of it, some people considered him stupid, but she had clearly understood the core issue.

Of course, there were medications for that. There was one called Firgone, a diluted version of it actually. It made all emotions and all distractions go away. It also made people less than human. He had resolved to take it as a teenager to lessen her burden but she had objected.

She had always been a glass always full kind of person. According to her, it was either filled with air that could be breathed in or water that could quench one's thirst. She had also never stopped believing in him.

That is why she searched for a solution. She didn't actually mind taking care of him all his life, but she wanted better for him. She wanted him to fly with his own wings. That is when she thought of a plan that all specialists dismissed as ridiculous.

She sent him to become a monk. All in order for him to learn how to tame his own restless mind. In any case, a monk wouldn't have to feel the pressure and stress of a modern-day usual job.

No matter how distracted he became, he would be fine. That is how he became a Serene Tranquility Dharma Monk. The job description was simple and straightforward, it was to teach others to become serene and tranquil.

Some would argue that one didn't need a monk for that. After all, yoga pretty much had the same effect, right? Well, visiting a shitty one-room Serene Tranquility Temple certainly had its charm.

One could go there on a walk, pray to the statue, grab a good luck charm, then exit and be done in a jiffy while forgetting about it. Most would take pictures of it all to try to impress people on the Internet, ones that didn't give a fuck about it in the first place. That kind of charm, you know.

Sadly, this monk wasn't especially good looking and let's just say the charm of the temple…Yes, it lost big time to hot chicks in yoga pants (And dudes even). But this wouldn't explain why no one at all was visiting. After all, there were still temples that were thriving no matter how small. It really was a problem with him.

When the Tower first appeared he resolved to come to try his luck in the big city. His mother had died not long ago, he was pretty much cured of his focus issues, and he also got invited as a monk. This meant living in the temple for free with the duties to take care of it all.

He just said fuck it and agreed in a heartbeat. His plan was was to await an opportunity in his lair and emerge of it a dragon! He would shed his monk skin and reveal himself as a proud and majestic Climber. Well, he never told anyone such a thing cause it clearly sounded super embarrassing.

He didn't necessarily plan on leaving the temple either. He simply wanted to Climb on the side and entertain visitors during the day.

He even went as far as to train martial arts to prepare himself. He was used to repetitive tasks as a monk so he learned it all quickly. Plus he had plenty of time and food in the Temple, that was all he needed.

He kept training until he knew for a fact that he'd be able to stomp Floor 1 easily solo. The only problem was the funds. He didn't want to sell himself to the government or a guild. Again, he was too proud.

He waited a long time, finally got an opportunity, and entered the Tower. All thanks to a kind traveling benefactor. The plan was objectively perfect. The outcome wasn't. Far from it. As he entered the Tower he was faced with the classic choose your Class line.

He was jumping in excitement and celebrating having finally made it. After all, even the weakest Climbers could live lavishly, by his monk standards at least. He couldn't wait to pick and checked his options with expectations.

[Please choose!]

| Cursed One |

That was it, nothing else. He double-checked. Then he triple-checked. But no matter what that was the only one. So that's how he became a cursed one. At first, he didn't know what it meant.

He even felt that no matter the Class he'd make it work somehow. Clearing the first Floors wasn't hard after all. At least, that's how it was supposed to play out. For him, it was far different.

Even Floor 1 was insanely hard. Where were the packs of 5? There were 20-50 of them congregating together! Then more would stumble by chance upon the fight while randomly wandering around.

He almost died. Many times over. He barely managed to survive, only thanks to the training he had previously done. As soon as he teleported out some people started screaming. Others casually asked about the list of the deceased.

He was confused. Deceased, what? He had just come back from Floor 1 solo. Who were they talking about? Everyone thought he had lost 4 companions on a harder Floor. They couldn't believe their ears when they learned that he had been challenging Floor 1.

They felt dumb for worrying about him and many even started taunting him. They said he had been dumb to go inside unprepared. Unprepared? Unprepared?! He had faced hundreds of cerberuses in there! The guides said packs of 5!

He felt like this whole Tower thing was a huge conspiracy. How could people lie so much on the Internet?! But then he finally checked his status screen and he understood it all. His stats themselves were very normal, but the rest was madness.

Cursed One lv 1

#SKILLS#

- E Steady Mind

- F Cursed One

#CURSES#

- E Distracting Curse

- F Calamity Attractor

- F Forever Alone

- F Poverty Stricken

That's when he started vehemently cursing aloud akin to a madman. Lots of things suddenly made sense to him. Had he always been cursed?! How?! Why?!

Bystanders began looking at him weirdly but he didn't care. Many would have crumbled seeing such ominous status, but he instantly pulled himself together for he had a plan…