《Shi-Gan’s Edge: The Notebook That Shouldn’t Exist》 Chapter 1: The Time Has Come Chapter 1: The Time Has Come The air smelled of instant ramen and damp old furniture, a scent so familiar it had practically become home itself. The heater buzzed faintly, valiantly battling against the creeping cold that always seemed to slip through the cracks of their worn-out apartment. A single flickering light bulb cast dim shadows over the mismatched furniture¡ªsecondhand pieces they''d salvaged over the years. It wasn¡¯t much, but at least it was theirs. For now. Jisoo tossed his work jacket onto the couch, the lingering scent of sweat and machine oil clinging to the fabric. Twelve hours of labor, and his body screamed in protest, the ache burrowing deep into his bones. He rubbed a hand over his face, feeling the rough callouses that had formed over years of relentless work. But when he stepped inside, he straightened, forcing a weary smile¡ªNari didn¡¯t need to see just how much today had drained him. ¡°Jisoo! You look like a zombie.¡± His sister, Nari, grinned at him from their tiny dining table, her black hair tied into a messy ponytail. The dim light above them cast a warm glow over her face, accentuating the slight bags under her eyes. Yet, even in their never-ending struggle, she still found reasons to smile. He managed a chuckle, shaking his head. ¡°You say that like it¡¯s new.¡± Nari slid a steaming cup of tea toward him. ¡°Hard day?¡± Jisoo accepted it, the warmth seeping into his palms. ¡°Same as always.¡± She hesitated, her fingers tapping lightly against the table. ¡°I visited Mom today.¡± Jisoo stilled. His grip on the cup tightened as he slowly lifted his gaze to meet hers. Their mother had been in a coma for very long. Occasionally, she would wake, but those moments were fleeting¡ªso rare that they had stopped hoping. ¡°She woke up,¡± Nari whispered, eyes shining with an emotion he couldn¡¯t quite place. ¡°Just for a little while.¡± His breath caught. His grip tightened around the cup, knuckles whitening. His mother¡ªawake? The words refused to settle in his mind, bouncing between disbelief and desperate hope. ''What¡­ what did she say?'' His voice cracked slightly at the end, betraying the emotion he tried to suppress. Nari¡¯s lips pressed together, a small, wistful smile appearing. ¡°Not much. She was weak¡­ but she asked about you.¡± A lump formed in his throat. It shouldn¡¯t have affected him this much. He had long since buried the hope of hearing his mother¡¯s voice again. But knowing that she had woken¡ªeven for just a brief moment¡ªsent a crack through the walls he had built around himself. ¡°I¡¯ll go see her tomorrow,¡± he murmured, but even as the words left his lips, a flicker of guilt crept in. How many times had he told himself the same thing? That there¡¯d always be another visit, another chance? But life had a way of taking those chances away. His fingers curled tighter around the cup. Tomorrow. He had to see her tomorrow. Before Nari could respond, his phone vibrated against the table. The familiar number on the screen made his stomach twist. ¡°Who is it?¡± Nari frowned. Jisoo let the phone ring out, hoping to ignore it. His stomach lurched. His fingers tightened around the device. A breath. Then, forcing a smile, he reached out and ruffled Nari¡¯s hair. ¡°No one important.¡± But it was. The loan sharks were calling. He let the call ring out, pretending it didn¡¯t exist, but the screen lit up again almost immediately. A message followed. "Ignoring us now? If you don¡¯t come to us, we¡¯ll come to you. And your sister." Jisoo¡¯s hand clenched around the phone. His body stiffened, and in that brief hesitation, Nari caught his change in expression. ¡°Jisoo¡­¡± Her voice softened, a hint of worry seeping in. ¡°Is it them?¡± He swallowed hard, forcing a smile. ¡°I¡¯ll be right back.¡± Nari grabbed his wrist before he could stand. ¡°Don¡¯t go.¡± He met her eyes, the unspoken fear between them thick in the air. He gently pried her fingers away and stood. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine. Don¡¯t worry.¡± She knew what was going to happen. And so did he. Jisoo arrived at the meeting spot, an alley bathed in dim orange light from a flickering streetlamp. The scent of cigarettes, rotting trash, and cheap beer lingered in the air. The shadows between the buildings stretched unnaturally long, swallowing everything that strayed too close. A chill crawled up his spine. Then, a sharp impact. A sudden fist rammed into his ribs, forcing all the air from his lungs. A second blow¡ªsharp and ruthless¡ªfollowed immediately, sending a violent tremor through his body. He staggered, coughing, his breath reduced to painful wheezes. His vision blurred, but he clenched his jaw. He wouldn¡¯t fall. Not yet. ¡°Still standing? That¡¯s a surprise,¡± a voice sneered. Another blow struck his face. The world spun as he crumpled against the damp concrete, his cheek pressing against the cold, rough pavement. He tasted copper on his tongue. A foot pressed against his shoulder, pinning him down. The loan shark sub-leader, a man with a scar running down his cheek, crouched beside him, his lips curling into a mockery of a smile. ¡°You know how this goes, Jisoo.¡± His tone was almost friendly. ¡°Your old man left you a nice little parting gift. That debt isn¡¯t going anywhere. And you¡¯ve been a bit slow with your payments, so the boss is getting worried that you might not pay everything in time.¡± Jisoo clenched his jaw, biting back the words bubbling at his lips. He had learned long ago that talking back only made it worse. Scarface sighed dramatically. ¡°You should be grateful we¡¯re patient. Pay up, or next time, I¡¯ll break something that won¡¯t heal.¡± The pressure on his shoulder lifted, and for a moment, he thought it was over. Then, a boot slammed into his ribs. A sickening crack echoed in the alley as white-hot pain flared through his side. Jisoo gasped, his vision dimming. Another kick followed. Then another. He coughed violently¡ªblood splattered onto the pavement, dark against the flickering streetlight¡¯s glow. His vision blurred, his breath shallow. A dull ringing filled his ears. Why? Why did it have to be like this? Jisoo had nothing left. No strength, no future. Just pain, regret, and an endless cycle of suffering. Footsteps faded into the night. The alley was silent again. Then, a voice echoed in his mind. [The time has come. Do you wish to use your unique ability?] Jisoo¡¯s breath hitched. His body trembled, though whether from the pain or something else, he wasn¡¯t sure. A system message? [Do you seek a second chance upon this ruthless world?] A second chance? For years, he had been considered useless. Unlike everyone else, his unique ability had never activated. In a world where, after The Awakening, every person was granted a unique ability¡ªsome for cooking, some for battle, some for building¡ªJisoo was the exception. He had a skill, but no information on how to use it. He spent years trying, day and night, testing every possibility, yet no matter what he did, he found nothing. Eventually, after years of failure, he gave up. Yet, now¡­ A glowing blue window hovered in front of him. There was no mistaking it. This was real. Jisoo¡¯s hands trembled as he read the text again. [Use Skill: Chrono Requiem] His vision swam, his body barely responding. The taste of blood thickened in his mouth. Memories flashed before his eyes¡ªhis father¡¯s abandonment, his mother¡¯s fragile existence, Nari¡¯s unwavering belief in him. Was this it? Was this really his only way out? He barely understood what was happening. But he knew one thing. His fingers hovered over the glowing text. Could this be real? Or was this just a dying man¡¯s hallucination? His body screamed in agony, his ribs aching with every shallow breath. If he pressed it and nothing happened, he would just wake up tomorrow¡ªpowerless, broken, and trapped in the same cycle. But if it was real¡­ He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palm. A second chance. A way out. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. He exhaled sharply, then pressed [YES]. The system¡¯s response was immediate. [Regression confirmed. Timeline reset in 48 hours. Use this time wisely.] The glowing window flickered, then disappeared. His heart pounded against his bruised ribs, the reality of what had just happened sinking in. Forty-eight hours. That was all the time he had. A gust of wind swept through the alley, chilling him to the bone. His vision blurred, the world around him darkening. His body felt heavier, weaker. As the last remnants of consciousness slipped away, he heard something. A whisper. A voice¡ªdistorted, unfamiliar¡ªmurmuring just beyond his understanding. Then, silence. Jisoo''s eyelids fluttered open, his face pressed against the cold, damp pavement of the alleyway. The air was thick with the stench of stale beer and rotting garbage. His body ached, every breath sending sharp pain lancing through his ribs. He groaned, shifting slightly, only to wince as a fresh wave of agony surged through him. For a moment, he wondered if it had all been a nightmare¡ªthe alley, the beating, the system message. Then, his gaze landed on the glowing blue window hovering just above his head. [Regression Confirmed. Timeline Reset in 46 Hours. Use this time wisely.] His breath caught in his throat. It wasn¡¯t a dream. It was real. Jisoo woke with a choked gasp, cold searing through his bones. His body should¡¯ve hurt, but for one terrifying moment, he felt nothing. Just a deafening silence. His fingers twitched against damp pavement. The world around him felt¡­ off. Colors were slightly desaturated, like an old photograph. The distant honking of a car sounded delayed, as if the world itself lagged a second behind. Then, suddenly, sensation slammed back into him¡ªa sharp throb in his ribs, the metallic tang of blood still fresh on his tongue. He looked up, and there it was. The glowing text. 46 hours, 13 minutes remaining. His heart pounded. The countdown was moving. It¡¯s real. I¡¯m really going back. A surge of emotions crashed into him all at once¡ªrelief, fear, anger. His hands trembled as he reached toward the glowing interface, hesitant yet unable to resist the pull of something so impossible. ¡°System¡­¡± he murmured, testing the words as if speaking them aloud would solidify its existence. ¡°What¡­ what does this mean?¡± The window flickered, and a new message appeared. [You have activated your unique ability: Chrono Requiem. Regression to the past will occur in 46 hours, 12 minutes, and 47 seconds.] He inhaled sharply. The name of my ability¡­ Chrono Requiem? He had always known he had a system, but unlike everyone else, it never worked. Why now? Why after all this time? His mind spun with the weight of the revelation. The implications were staggering. He had always been a failure in this world¡ªa man without power in a society that revolved around it. But now? Now he had something no one else did. A second chance. Jisoo¡¯s jaw clenched. No more running. No more suffering. This time, I¡¯ll change everything. He exhaled slowly, forcing himself to stay calm. I need to think. I have 46 hours. What can I do in that time? His mind raced through possibilities. He had no strength, no money, no power. But he had knowledge. And knowledge was priceless. His eyes flicked back to the system screen. ¡°Why can you talk? I¡¯ve never heard of a system that talks before.¡± A brief pause, then the system responded. [This system is uniquely attuned to its user. Chrono Requiem operates differently from standard awakenings.] Jisoo frowned. ¡°Differently how?¡± [Information restricted.] He sighed. Of course, it wouldn¡¯t be that easy. ¡°Fine¡­ Then tell me¡ªexactly when and where am I regressing to?¡± [You will return to six months before The Awakening, at the precise moment it was meant to trigger in the original timeline. Location: Seoul, South Korea.] Jisoo¡¯s breath hitched. Six months¡­ That means I¡¯ll be powerless again. The realization hit like a punch to the gut. Even with all the knowledge in the world, he wouldn¡¯t be able to wield any real strength until The Awakening happened. That means I have to prepare before it comes. He clenched his fists. ¡°Can I take something with me when I regress?¡± The system paused for a brief moment before displaying a response. [One personal belonging may be carried over, provided it existed in the chosen past timeline.] Jisoo¡¯s heart pounded. He sat there, his mind spinning with the sheer possibilities of what this truly meant. He had spent years in despair, years trapped in a life where he had no control, no power to change anything. But now¡ªnow he had a chance to rewrite everything. His thoughts raced. He could try to hoard money, gather weapons, find a way to gain an advantage in combat before The Awakening. But even if he brought back money, would it truly make a difference before the world changed? No, he needed something more valuable. Something irreplaceable. Then, it hit him. What if he brought a record of everything he knew? A notebook filled with crucial details¡ªthe right investments, hidden opportunities, dangerous figures to avoid, powerful awakeners before they rose to fame, dungeon patterns, tower secrets, everything. The thought sent a spark of excitement through him. This is it. This is how I can be prepared. A sense of pride settled in his chest. Unlike raw strength or power, knowledge was something no one could take away from him. With the right information, he wouldn¡¯t just survive¡ªhe would thrive. ¡°System, I want to bring my notebook.¡± [Acknowledged. The selected item will be available upon regression.] [Interesting. It seems you¡¯ve come up with quite the strategic approach. I look forward to seeing how you use it.] [Reminder: You have limited time before regression. Begin preparations accordingly.] Jisoo took a deep breath. Right. I can¡¯t waste time. The pain in his ribs still burned, but he shoved it aside. He forced himself to his feet, leaning against the damp alley wall for support. The city¡¯s faint hum filled the air¡ªcars in the distance, the occasional murmur of drunken laughter from the streets beyond. He had no time to dwell on his injuries. He had a plan to execute. Jisoo trudged back home, every muscle in his body aching from the relentless beating. His hoodie was stained, his lip split, and his ribs throbbed with each breath. He had taken worse before, but this time¡­ this time it didn¡¯t matter. He had something greater now¡ªhope. The apartment was dark when he entered, the only source of light coming from the dim glow of the kitchen. As soon as he stepped inside, Nari bolted up from the couch, eyes wide with worry. "Jisoo! Where the hell have you been?" Her voice was hushed but filled with fear. "You look awful¡ªwhat happened?" He forced a tired smile, waving off her concern. "Just ran into some trouble. It¡¯s nothing I can¡¯t handle." Nari didn¡¯t look convinced. She stepped closer, inspecting the bruises forming along his cheekbone, her fingers trembling slightly. "You were with them again, weren¡¯t you? Iron Hand¡ª" "It¡¯s fine, Nari," he said firmly, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I promise you, everything¡¯s going to be fine." She shook her head, biting her lip. "How can you say that? Every time they call, you come back like this. How much more can you take?" Jisoo looked into her worried eyes, a deep determination settling into his chest. This would be the last time she had to see him like this. The last time he¡¯d let this happen. "Trust me," he whispered. "I found a way to fix everything." Nari frowned, sensing the strange certainty in his words. "Jisoo¡­ what are you talking about?" He exhaled, pulling back. "You¡¯ll see soon enough. Just hold on a little longer." Nari wanted to press further, but the exhaustion in his voice told her she wouldn¡¯t get an answer tonight. After a long silence, she sighed, stepping away. "Just¡­ please don¡¯t do anything reckless." Jisoo forced a smirk. "Me? Reckless? Never." Nari scoffed but managed a small smile. "Liar." As she finally retreated to her room, Jisoo let out a long breath, his smile fading. He turned toward his own small space, shut the door behind him, and pressed his back against it. The pain in his body felt distant now¡ªhis mind was far too consumed with what lay ahead. First step: gather information. He pulled open his desk drawer and retrieved a fresh notebook, flipping it open to the first page. If his past notebook was going to merge with the system, he needed to fill it with everything he could while he still had time. Jisoo grabbed a pen and started writing. His hands moved fast, his mind working at full capacity. Every detail matters. As he scribbled furiously, his breath came in sharp bursts. His hands cramped, his back ached from leaning over the desk, but he couldn¡¯t stop. He wouldn¡¯t stop. Every moment wasted was a moment closer to regression. He needed to memorize key events, map out interactions with critical people, and anticipate where opportunities would arise. Where could he position himself best when The Awakening happened? Jisoo leaned back, rubbing his temples. His thoughts were racing faster than his body could keep up. Forty-four hours. That¡¯s all I have. A new thought struck him. If he was going back¡­ then what about the people who had hurt him in this life? The loan sharks. The people who had trampled on his family. The ones who took everything from him. His grip tightened around the pen, his knuckles turning white. This time, I won¡¯t be their victim. For the next several hours, Jisoo worked tirelessly. Sleep was a luxury he couldn''t afford. He sat hunched over his desk, his phone and computer screens illuminating his exhausted face as he scoured the internet, news archives, and financial records. He wrote down patterns, marked crucial dates, and refined his strategy. Every decision had to count. But he wasn¡¯t just researching¡ªhe was taking risks. Under fake names, he entered restricted online forums where awakened hunters traded insider knowledge. He pretended to be an informant for the Blood Oath guild, feeding them half-truths to extract classified dungeon and Tower clearance reports. He reached out to minor criminal syndicates, posing as a desperate man looking for a way into the underground networks of item smuggling and Awakening enhancement drugs. He wanted to see how people reacted, to test his ability to manipulate, to gather intel that no ordinary citizen should have. At one point, he even walked straight into a Black Market information hub, sitting in on a transaction as if he belonged there. His heart pounded the entire time, knowing that if he were caught, he¡¯d be dead before sunrise. But none of it mattered. Because in less than two days, none of it would have consequences. Twenty-five hours left. Jisoo leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. He had gathered everything he could, yet it still didn¡¯t feel like enough. Did I miss anything? Is there something I should be doing differently? But there was no time for hesitation. He turned the page in his notebook and kept writing. He would be prepared for the new world that awaited him. This time, things would be different Chapter 2: The First Page of Fate Chapter 2: The First Page of Fate
The room was dimly lit, the glow from Jisoo¡¯s laptop screen casting long shadows across the cluttered desk. Scattered papers, hastily scribbled notes, and open browser tabs filled with financial charts painted a picture of someone obsessed. His fingers trembled as he turned another page in his notebook, the pen barely keeping up with the racing thoughts in his mind. Twenty-five hours left. Exhaustion clung to him, but sleep was a luxury he couldn¡¯t afford. Every minute that passed was another lost opportunity to prepare. He had spent the last twenty-three years failing¡ªhe wouldn¡¯t allow himself to do it again. A quiet creak broke the silence. Jisoo¡¯s head snapped toward the doorway. Nari. She stood there, arms crossed, wearing an oversized hoodie and sweatpants. Her violet eyes flickered to the mess of notes and his tense posture. There was no hiding it anymore¡ªshe knew something was wrong. ¡°You¡¯re not even trying to be subtle,¡± she muttered, stepping inside. Jisoo sighed, rubbing his temples. ¡°It¡¯s nothing.¡± Nari didn¡¯t buy it. She walked over, picking up a stray page from his desk before he could stop her. Her brows furrowed as she read the words aloud. ¡°Survive past The Awakening.¡± Her eyes flicked back to him. ¡°Jisoo¡­ what the hell is this?¡± He hesitated, searching for an excuse, but nothing came. The truth was too insane to explain, and lying to Nari never worked. ¡°You¡¯re planning something,¡± she pressed. ¡°You barely sleep, you look like you¡¯re expecting the world to end, and now I find stuff like this? If you¡¯re in some kind of trouble¡ª¡± ¡°I¡¯m not,¡± he interrupted. His voice was calm, but the way his fists clenched betrayed his nerves. ¡°I swear, I just¡­ I need to fix things.¡± Nari exhaled, running a hand through her hair. "Fix what? You¡¯re acting like you have some deadline¡ªlike you¡¯re running out of time." Jisoo swallowed hard. Because I am. She hesitated, then glanced at him more intently. "This isn¡¯t about Iron Hand again, is it? After last night¡­ Jisoo, if they¡¯re threatening you again¡ª" Jisoo exhaled slowly, his gaze steady. "It also involves them," he admitted, voice firm but measured. "But everything will be solved soon." He looked at her directly, his expression unwavering. "Just trust me one more time, Nari." She stared at him, expecting answers, but he had none to give. Finally, she shook her head. ¡°Whatever it is, don¡¯t shut me out.¡± He looked at her then, the quiet plea in her voice twisting something in his chest. Nari had always been his anchor¡ªthe one person he fought to protect. But this time¡­ he wouldn¡¯t be able to keep his promise. Before she left, she paused at the door. ¡°You¡¯re not going to disappear on me, just like dad did, are you?¡± Jisoo froze. She tried to sound casual, but her grip on the doorframe was tight. She knows something is coming. His throat tightened, but he forced a smirk. ¡°Me? Disappear? I¡¯m too stubborn for that.¡± Nari didn¡¯t smile. She just nodded slowly, as if committing his words to memory, and walked away. Jisoo exhaled sharply. Damn it. He turned back to his desk, but the papers in front of him blurred. Was this really the right choice? Leaving her behind without an explanation? But what could he say? That time itself was about to reset? That everything she knew would be rewritten? His hands clenched. I¡¯ll come back to her. I have to. But then, a thought lingered in his mind, dark and unshakable. What happens to this world when I leave? Would it continue without him? Or was this future simply being discarded, abandoned to its ruin? He turned his gaze toward the window. The neon glow of the city reflected in the glass¡ªhollow, empty, desperate. Sirens wailed in the distance, another crime in a city suffocating under its own weight. The streets were filled with people surviving, not living. This world¡ªthe broken system, the relentless debt, the suffering¡ªwas his worst nightmare. This is what awaits if I fail. He wouldn¡¯t let it happen. His gaze drifted toward his notebook, his fingers gripping it tightly. This wasn¡¯t just for himself¡ªit was for her. For their survival. He turned his gaze back to the door where Nari had stood. He had promised her he wouldn¡¯t disappear. And even though she wouldn¡¯t remember this version of him, even though the world itself might forget¡ªhe wouldn¡¯t. He wouldn¡¯t abandon her. He wouldn¡¯t leave her to struggle alone again. ¡°I swear, Nari,¡± he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. ¡°I won¡¯t leave you. I¡¯ll fix everything¡­ I promise.¡±
The moment came faster than he expected. At first, it was subtle¡ªa strange hum in the air, like the city itself was holding its breath. Then, the world around him flickered. The walls stretched and warped, as if reality itself were tearing at the seams. A sharp ringing filled his ears, growing louder by the second. Jisoo stumbled, gripping his desk as the ground seemed to shift beneath his feet. His fingers instinctively clutched his notebook, his grip so tight his knuckles turned white. His screen glitched, the numbers and letters distorting into nonsense. His breath quickened. It¡¯s happening. A deafening silence swallowed the apartment, pressing against his eardrums. Then came the first scream. Distant¡ªfaint¡ªbut unmistakable. Jisoo¡¯s head jerked toward the window. Outside, the sky was wrong. Colors bled into each other, shifting between dawn and midnight. Lights flickered erratically, like a dying heartbeat. Shadows twisted unnaturally in the alleys below, stretching and contorting as if something unseen was moving within them. A wave of nausea rolled through him as more screams joined the first, an eerie chorus of panic and confusion. Then¡ª ¡°Jisoo!¡± His eyes widened. Nari. The sound of her voice cut through the noise, clearer than anything else. He turned toward the door¡ªshe was calling for him. His vision blurred. Was she really there? Was this part of the regression, or¡­? His skin tingled, an icy sensation creeping up his spine. His limbs felt weightless, as if gravity itself was unraveling. The entire room warped, stretching and bending, losing form. A distant voice echoed in his mind, but he couldn¡¯t make out the words. His breath hitched. The countdown in his mind ticked lower. 5¡­ 4¡­ 3¡­ His body felt weightless. The world twisted, breaking apart at the seams. Light swallowed everything, and in his final moment of consciousness, a single thought gripped his heart. Nari, I swear¡­ I won¡¯t fail. Then, silence.
Jisoo¡¯s consciousness wavered, floating somewhere between existence and nothingness. There was no air, no sound¡ªonly an overwhelming stillness. His body felt weightless, suspended in an endless abyss, as if time itself had unraveled around him. And then, sensation slammed into him like a tidal wave. A sharp gasp tore from his lips as his body jerked upright. His lungs burned as if he had been drowning moments before, desperate for air. His vision swam, his mind struggling to process what had just happened. Then, reality set in. The familiar scent of fabric softener and the faint aroma of breakfast cooking reached his senses. Sunlight streamed through slightly parted curtains, casting warm golden rays across a room that shouldn¡¯t exist anymore. His room. Jisoo¡¯s breath hitched. He turned his head slowly, scanning the space around him. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. The cracked plaster ceiling. The poster of a long-forgotten band he used to love. The stack of textbooks on his cluttered desk, filled with half-written notes and pages marked with highlights. This was home¡ªhis home, before everything fell apart. His heart pounded erratically against his ribs. He reached down, hands trembling as he clenched the blanket beneath him. It felt real. Solid. Tangible. His fingers moved instinctively toward his pockets, patting them down in a frantic search. Then he turned to the nightstand, the desk, the floor¡ªeverywhere. It wasn¡¯t just missing. It had vanished. His notebook was nowhere to be found. Panic surged through him. He threw the blanket off and scrambled to his feet, checking again¡ªhis pockets, the drawers, even beneath his bed. Nothing. ¡°The notebook¡­¡± he whispered, voice hoarse. Then, a familiar sound echoed in his mind. [System Initialized.] A glowing interface materialized before his eyes, the soft blue hue casting an ethereal glow against his skin. Lines of text scrolled across the screen. [Welcome back, Kang Jisoo. Regression Complete.] His breath came in shallow gasps as he processed the words. It had worked. He was really back. [System Awakening: 6 Months Until Activation.] His gaze locked onto the next notification, his stomach twisting. [Your selected item has been stored. The item can be accessed in 6 months when the event takes place. Upon The Awakening, you may choose between a standard activation, restoring your item as it originally was, or a unique fusion with the system, integrating your item in an unprecedented manner. The risks and benefits of fusion remain unknown, but probabilities suggest a positive outcome. Do you wish to proceed with standard activation or fusion?] His breath hitched. Fusion? That wasn¡¯t something he had anticipated. His notebook¡ªthe one thing he had risked everything to bring back¡ªcould be merged with the system itself? He narrowed his eyes. ¡°What do you mean? Standard activation or integration with the system?¡± The system responded immediately. [Standard activation will restore your item exactly as it was before regression, allowing you to use it as you originally did. However, integration is an unknown phenomenon. The system has never encountered an opportunity like this before. Upon The Awakening, rather than experiencing a standard ability awakening, you will undergo an Awakening Fusion¡ªyour selected item will merge with the system itself, potentially altering its functionality entirely.] Jisoo frowned. A completely unique awakening? No one else would have something like this. ¡°But what happens if I choose fusion? What will the effects be?¡± he asked cautiously. [The outcome is uncertain. However, based on system analysis, the fusion process is likely to enhance your abilities significantly. There may be risks, but the probability of a beneficial result is high.] Jisoo remained silent. Keeping the notebook as it was meant familiarity, certainty. But certainty hadn¡¯t saved him before. Playing it safe had never worked. This was an opportunity. A gamble, yes, but one that could give him an even greater edge than he had originally planned. His fingers clenched slightly. ¡°Can I trust you?¡± he asked, his voice quiet yet firm. The system¡¯s response came without hesitation. [I want you to succeed and change this world. It¡¯s your choice to believe me or not.] Jisoo exhaled slowly, his mind racing. This world¡ªthis dark future¡ªis what awaits if I fail. He couldn¡¯t let that happen. If the system was offering him something beyond what was known, then maybe¡­ maybe it was worth the risk. His hesitation faded, replaced by something stronger¡ªdetermination. He took a deep breath. ¡°Fuse it.¡± The moment the words left his lips, a surge of warmth enveloped him. His vision blurred as unfamiliar symbols and data flooded his mind. A sharp pulse coursed through his body, neither painful nor pleasant¡ªjust different. Then, silence. The system¡¯s glow dimmed before a new prompt appeared. [Notebook successfully integrated. System access limited until The Awakening.] He let out a slow breath. It¡¯s done. His thoughts were still spinning when a voice called out from beyond his door. ¡°Jisoo! Breakfast is ready!¡± His entire body went rigid. His head snapped toward the door, breath hitching. That voice. Soft. Warm. Unmistakably familiar. His mother. Jisoo¡¯s knees nearly buckled. His fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, his chest tightening. His mother¡ªalive. Breathing. Calling for him, as if nothing had changed. As if she had never left. His throat felt tight, the air in the room suddenly heavy. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to keep it together, to not let the emotions crash over him like a tidal wave. But it was impossible. It had been years. Years. A shaky breath left his lips as he wiped a hand over his face. He couldn¡¯t afford to break down. Not yet. One step. Then another. He reached the door, his hand trembling as he grasped the handle. For a moment, he hesitated¡ªafraid that if he opened it, this fragile illusion would shatter, that he¡¯d wake up back in the cold, broken world he had left behind. But he had to see her. Swallowing hard, he turned the handle. As the door swung open, the warmth of the past enveloped him. The scent of home¡ªof miso soup and freshly cooked rice. The clatter of dishes, the faint hum of a radio playing an old tune in the background. Sunlight streamed through the small kitchen window, illuminating everything with a golden glow. And there, standing by the stove, was his mother. She turned, smiling at him over her shoulder as she wiped her hands on a dish towel. ¡°You¡¯re up early for once.¡± Jisoo¡¯s breath hitched. She looked exactly the same. The gentle eyes. The soft lines near her lips from years of laughter. The way she moved, effortlessly graceful despite the years of hardship. It was real. His fingers twitched at his sides. He wanted to reach out, to touch her, to make sure she was really there. But he felt frozen, trapped between overwhelming joy and unbearable grief. His lips parted, but no words came out. He had so much to say, but none of it would make sense. His mother tilted her head, her brows knitting together. ¡°Jisoo?¡± His stomach twisted painfully. He clenched his fists, grounding himself. Don¡¯t lose it. Not yet. He forced a breath into his lungs. Say something. Anything. ¡°¡­Yeah.¡± His voice came out strained, barely above a whisper. ¡°I¡­ I just didn¡¯t want to sleep in today.¡± His mother chuckled softly, shaking her head as she turned back to the stove. ¡°That¡¯s new. Sit down, breakfast will be ready soon.¡± Jisoo exhaled shakily and stepped into the kitchen, each movement feeling surreal. He pulled out a chair and sat down, his hands gripping the edge of the table like a lifeline. The table¡ªthe same worn wooden surface, faintly scratched from years of use. His fingers brushed against it, feeling its rough texture. The familiarity of it made his chest tighten. He had lost this. Jisoo¡¯s gaze flickered toward the man seated at the table¡ªtheir father. He sat exactly as Jisoo remembered, nursing a cup of coffee in one hand, the other tapping idly against the table as he waited for breakfast. His posture was relaxed, his expression unreadable. A familiar sight. Too familiar. Jisoo forced himself to sit down across from him, carefully schooling his features into something neutral. He knew this moment would come, but still¡ªit felt surreal. His father glanced up. ¡°You¡¯re up early, did anything happen?¡± he remarked, voice tinged with faint amusement. The words sent a sharp, bitter pang through Jisoo¡¯s chest. It was so normal, so effortless, like nothing had ever gone wrong. Like he hadn¡¯t¡ªlike he wouldn¡¯t¡ªleave them behind. Jisoo offered a forced chuckle. ¡°Guess I just felt like it.¡± His father hummed in response, taking another sip of coffee, unaware of the storm raging inside his son¡¯s mind. Jisoo¡¯s fingers curled slightly under the table. Did you ever love us at all? The thought came unbidden, sharp and cruel. Was there ever a moment you looked at us and thought we were worth staying for? Back then, Jisoo had admired him. Back then, he had believed in him¡ªthe quiet strength in his voice, the way he always promised that no matter how hard things got, they would pull through as a family. He had been their foundation, their pillar of support. But it had been a lie. A choice had been made. A decision that left them drowning in debt, abandoned. His father had walked away the moment things became too heavy, leaving them to pick up the pieces of a shattered life. Jisoo exhaled slowly, loosening his fists. Not yet. He couldn¡¯t let himself lose control¡ªnot here, not now. He had to pretend. Pretend that he didn¡¯t already know how this story would end. Pretend that, for just a little while longer, they were still a family. A sudden rustling broke his daze. ¡°Ugh, it¡¯s too early¡­¡± A familiar groggy voice mumbled as footsteps shuffled into the kitchen. Jisoo turned, his breath catching once more. Nari. She stepped into view, yawning as she tied up her messy black hair. She looked the same¡ªyoung, carefree, still untouched by the weight of the world. She blinked sleepily at him before frowning. ¡°What¡¯s with that weird look on your face?¡± Jisoo quickly turned away, shaking his head. ¡°Nothing.¡± Nari squinted at him. ¡°You sure? You look like you just saw a ghost.¡± Jisoo let out a quiet chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. If only she knew. Nari plopped into the chair beside him, stretching her arms with a lazy yawn. ¡°Oppa, you¡¯re up early¡­ and acting weird? Something¡¯s definitely up.¡± Their mother placed a plate of food in front of her, ruffling her hair gently. ¡°Leave your brother alone, Nari. It¡¯s nice to have both of you awake early for once.¡± Nari huffed, but a small smile tugged at her lips. ¡°Fine, fine.¡± Jisoo, however, could barely move. He picked up his chopsticks, staring down at the food in front of him. His fingers curled around them tightly, his grip just shy of trembling. He hadn¡¯t tasted this in years. His mother¡¯s cooking. The same simple meal he had eaten hundreds of times¡ªyet now, it felt impossibly distant, like a dream he had long forgotten. It was just a normal breakfast. Rice. Miso soup. A side of kimchi. The same simple meal they had eaten a hundred times before. Slowly, he took his first bite. The warmth spread across his tongue, the subtle spice of the kimchi mixing with the soft grains of rice. It was¡­ ordinary. Comforting. Familiar. But to him, it was everything. His vision blurred. He had forgotten what this felt like. A home that wasn¡¯t filled with silence. A morning that wasn¡¯t spent in exhaustion and fear. The presence of the people he loved, still whole, still alive. He swallowed, his throat tightening slightly. His mother was here. Nari was here. The world had reset, and he was sitting at this table like nothing had ever changed. But it had. He had. He clenched his chopsticks, inhaling sharply. He wouldn¡¯t waste this chance. Six months. That¡¯s all the time he had before the world would change. This time, I won¡¯t waste it. He exhaled slowly, the corners of his lips twitching upward in the faintest of smiles. He took his first bite. This time, I will rewrite everything.
Chapter 3: No Room for Hesitation Chapter 3: No Room for Hesitation The lingering warmth of breakfast settled in Jisoo¡¯s stomach as he set his chopsticks down. His mother¡¯s voice wove through the air, chatting with Nari about school¡ªsoft, ordinary, untouched by the weight of the future. For a fleeting moment, he let himself soak in the illusion of normalcy. But normal wouldn¡¯t last. He excused himself from the table, pushing his chair back with careful movements. His mother glanced at him, a hint of curiosity in her eyes. "Jisoo, are you feeling alright?" He forced a small smile. "Yeah, I just¡­ have a lot to think about." She nodded but didn¡¯t press further. He gave Nari a small ruffle on the head before heading to his room. As soon as the door clicked shut behind him, his expression turned serious. Sitting at his desk, Jisoo exhaled slowly. I need a plan. His mind raced through possibilities, but without access to his notebook¡¯s information, he felt like he was grasping at straws. The frustration gnawed at him. He vaguely recalled certain stocks and business opportunities that would explode in value, but they required capital¡ªmoney he didn¡¯t have right now. That left him with two immediate goals:
  1. Find a way to earn money.
  2. Begin some kind of training.
His body was weak¡ªtoo weak. Stamina had to be the priority. If he wanted to survive the chaos ahead, he couldn¡¯t afford to let exhaustion be his downfall again. The last time, he had suffered because he had below-average endurance and strength, even for someone unawakened. That wouldn¡¯t happen again. After thinking and searching for a bit, Jisoo came up with his training routine, structuring his plan to build endurance and strength. It wasn¡¯t much, but it was a start. Even a weak foundation was better than none. Now for the next step. He needed something that paid decently and gave him enough time to train. He scrolled through job listings, calling every potential employer. Most turned him away¡ªeither the hours didn¡¯t fit, or they wanted long-term commitments. By noon, he had made several job calls, and by the afternoon, he had made his decision. A warehouse night shift. Decent pay for the hours, and the physical labor would help him build strength. It was the best option he could get on short notice. His new boss asked if he could start today. Jisoo agreed without hesitation. The reality of his new routine settled in¡ªtraining, working, and preparing for what was to come. There was no room for hesitation, no time to second-guess. Before leaving, Jisoo found his mother in the kitchen, drying dishes. He hesitated before stepping forward, wrapping his arms around her in a firm hug. She stiffened in surprise before chuckling softly. "What¡¯s this? My son getting all sentimental on me?" Jisoo buried his face into her shoulder for a second before pulling back. "Just¡­ thanks for everything, Mom." She gave him a searching look, concern flickering in her eyes. "Jisoo, is something wrong?" He forced a smile. "No, nothing¡¯s wrong. I just wanted to say it." She sighed, ruffling his hair like she used to when he was younger. "Alright, alright. Go on then. Don¡¯t be late." Jisoo nodded, grabbing his bag and stepping outside. The cool air hit his face as he inhaled deeply. This time, I¡¯ll protect this family. His first training session was brutal. His morning run was a disaster. Every step felt like wading through concrete, his lungs burning with every breath. He had set a goal, but his body rebelled¡ªhis legs seizing up, his vision blurring. He barely made it halfway before collapsing onto a bench, gasping for air. His frustration simmered, but he reminded himself: I have time. Not much, but enough to keep pushing. By the time the evening rolled in, he was done with his training, exhaustion clung to his limbs. He forced himself to eat something healthy, knowing he needed the energy to recover, even as exhaustion weighed heavily on him. He had work soon. Arriving at the warehouse, Jisoo met his supervisor, a burly man who barely spared him a glance before handing him a pair of gloves. "You must be the new guy," the supervisor grunted, barely glancing up. "Back crates. Get moving. And don¡¯t break anything¡ªI don¡¯t like cleaning up after idiots." "Yes, sir," Jisoo answered, his tone firm with determination. Jisoo got to work, pushing through the soreness from his earlier training. His arms ached, his legs felt like lead, but he grit his teeth and endured. The hours passed, and by the end of his shift, every muscle in his body screamed in protest. As he clocked out, his supervisor gave him a nod. "Good job today, newbie." Jisoo blinked, surprised by the small acknowledgment. It was a stark contrast to the exploitation he had faced before regressing. Still, as he left the warehouse, a small smile crept onto his lips. This is only the beginning. Jisoo stepped out of the warehouse, the cold night air brushing against his sweat-dampened skin. His muscles ached, his limbs heavy with fatigue, but his mind remained sharp. He adjusted the strap of his bag and set off, taking a different route home. He had learned from his past mistakes¡ªhe remembered the night he had been mugged on this path¡ªcornered, beaten, and left with nothing. The memory was sharp, etched into his mind like a scar. Not this time. His new route was longer, weaving through well-lit streets and areas with more foot traffic. Every step carried purpose; every decision, a calculated move to avoid unnecessary danger. He wasn¡¯t just training his body¡ªhe was retraining his instincts. At one point, he passed a familiar convenience store. A memory flickered¡ªthis was where it had happened. A group of thugs had been waiting near the alley, their presence unnoticed until it was too late. He had walked right into it. Jisoo slowed his pace, scanning the area out of habit. No threats tonight. But the tension in his shoulders remained. Even though he had avoided that mistake, there were a hundred others waiting to happen. One small change wasn¡¯t enough. He had to be better. By the time he reached home, exhaustion settled into his bones. It was different from the crushing fatigue he had known in his past life¡ªthis one felt rewarding, like a step toward something greater. Before heading to bed, Jisoo pulled off his shirt, examining himself in the mirror. Bruises from lifting crates dotted his arms, a dull ache lingering in his shoulders and legs. It wasn¡¯t much, but it was progress¡ªa sign of his dedication. His fingers traced a faint scar on his ribs¡ªa relic from his past life. He knew exactly when and where he had gotten it. A mistake. A failure. One that had cost him dearly. The sight of it only reinforced his determination. Not again. You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. As he stepped out of the bathroom, Nari¡¯s door creaked open. She peeked out, blinking sleepily. "You¡¯re back late." "Yeah. Long day," Jisoo said, keeping his tone casual. She studied him, her gaze lingering on the tired slump of his shoulders before crossing her arms. "I know you want to help, but don¡¯t overwork yourself too much. Don¡¯t be an idiot." Jisoo let out a short chuckle. "I¡¯ll be fine." "Uh-huh, that¡¯s what all idiots say before they collapse from exhaustion." She smirked, but there was genuine concern behind her teasing tone. "Just¡­ don¡¯t do anything stupid, alright?" His smirk softened. "Got it, Nari. Get some sleep." She huffed but nodded, retreating back into her room. She knew something was different. Lying in bed, Jisoo stared at the ceiling, willing himself to recall everything he could about the future. The gaps were frustrating. He had expected his notebook to be with him, to have all the answers neatly laid out, but the system had locked it away. He could only rely on his own fragmented memories. He grasped at loose details¡ªa corporation that would rise, an investment that would boom, a company that would crumble. But without certainty, any attempt at financial planning was a gamble. Too risky. Frustration gnawed at him. If he had the notebook now, he could do so much more. Instead, he was left scrambling, trying to piece together half-formed recollections from a future that was already shifting. Still, he wasn¡¯t completely powerless. Instead, he decided on a more practical approach. He would use the money he earned for two things: The family already owed money to Iron Hand. They weren¡¯t the poorest, but they had struggled enough that when they needed financial help, the bank refused them. At the time, there weren¡¯t many options left. That¡¯s when they turned to the loan sharks. Before The Awakening, they had always managed to pay on time, avoiding conflict. But afterward¡ªafter what his father did¡ªit all spiraled out of control. Especially with Iron Hand awakening. Jisoo exhaled, forcing the bitterness from his mind. He wasn¡¯t there yet. For now, his priorities were clear. Train. Work. Stay ahead. Rather than focusing on vague ideas like "getting stronger," Jisoo needed measurable goals. He wanted to improve not just his physical condition, but also his psychological state. The exhaustion he felt now wasn¡¯t just about the body¡ªit was about breaking past the mental barriers that had once held him back. These weren¡¯t just steps; they were the foundation of his transformation. These weren¡¯t massive achievements, but they were steps. Tangible markers of progress. Sleep pulled at him, his body craving rest. His limbs felt leaden, but it wasn¡¯t the same numbing exhaustion he had carried in his past life. This one was different. It was earned. It meant progress. He stretched out, feeling the tight ache in his muscles. It wasn¡¯t pain without purpose. Every movement, every choice, was setting the foundation for something bigger. For the first time in a long time, as his eyelids grew heavy, Jisoo felt something close to satisfaction. He was moving forward. Time passed quickly. Nearly a month and a half had gone by since Jisoo¡¯s regression, and the changes were undeniable. His body no longer ached in the same unbearable way after training¡ªhe recovered faster, pushed harder, and lasted longer. The exhaustion still remained, but it was different. It was earned. Only four and a half months remained until The Awakening. His work at the warehouse had become almost second nature. The heavy lifting that had once left him gasping now felt manageable. He wasn¡¯t strong¡ªnot yet¡ªbut his body was adapting. Each shift built his endurance, forcing his muscles to grow accustomed to the strain. Jisoo had even started running before work, testing his limits. The first few weeks had been painful, his legs burning before he could even reach a quarter of his goal. Now, he had improved¡ªfive times the distance from when he had first started. It wasn¡¯t enough. He needed to reach ten times by the next few months, and ultimately twenty. Anything less would mean falling behind. He couldn¡¯t afford for his stamina to fail him when it mattered most. He had a lot planned, and stamina would play a crucial role in everything. If he tired too quickly, all his preparation would be meaningless. One evening, after finishing his run and before heading to work, Jisoo decided to check something. His stats. Sitting on the living room couch, he exhaled deeply and focused. System. A familiar blue interface materialized in front of him. His heartbeat quickened slightly, but as his eyes scanned the screen, his excitement immediately faded. [Status: Unchanged] [Attributes: Locked Until Awakening] [Abilities: Inactive] Jisoo¡¯s fingers clenched slightly. No changes. He had trained for nearly a month and a half, improving his body beyond what his past self had ever managed, and yet, his stats refused to budge. He gritted his teeth. Even without the system, his efforts should have counted for something. Then, as if in response to his frustration, a system message appeared. [Reminder: The system will not be functional until The Awakening day.] Jisoo let out a slow breath, leaning back into the couch. So even if I push myself to my limit, none of it will register until then. It was a harsh reality, but not unexpected. Still, it frustrated him. ¡°The Awakening day, huh¡­¡± he murmured under his breath, his thoughts drifting toward the looming event. ¡°What did you just say?¡± Jisoo¡¯s head snapped up. Nari was standing in the hallway, staring at him. His pulse jumped. He hadn¡¯t meant to say that out loud. For a split second, his mind raced for an excuse. She raised an eyebrow. ¡°The Awakening? What¡¯s that?¡± Jisoo forced a chuckle, shaking his head. ¡°Nothing. Just a line from some movie I was trying to remember.¡± Nari narrowed her eyes, clearly not convinced, but she shrugged. ¡°Whatever. Weirdo.¡± ¡°Who are you calling weirdo, hmm?¡± Jisoo shot back, smirking. ¡°Can¡¯t I watch movies now?¡± Nari rolled her eyes. ¡°Yeah, yeah. Just don¡¯t start quoting weird stuff at night like some maniac.¡± She gave him a playful side glance before disappearing back into her room. That was close. Jisoo exhaled, rubbing his temple. He needed to be more careful. One slip like that, and people would start asking questions. That night, as Jisoo lay in bed, he stared at the ceiling, his mind restless despite the exhaustion clinging to his limbs. Less than five months left. His training was working, his endurance improving, and his strength increasing. But it still wasn¡¯t enough. He had to break through his limits. If he wasn¡¯t much stronger than he was at the start by the time The Awakening came, he wouldn¡¯t survive. No¡­ ten times wouldn¡¯t be enough. He needed more. His goals were ambitious, but he refused to settle for less. His past self had been weak, slow, and unprepared. This time, he would push beyond what he thought possible. But even as he hardened his resolve, the ghosts of his past clawed at the edges of his mind. He saw the empty space where his father used to sit at the dinner table, his mother¡¯s quiet strength slowly crumbling in his absence. The day he disappeared, leaving behind nothing but a mountain of debt and the cold realization that he had abandoned them. The loan sharks knocking on their door, the slow erosion of whatever little security they had left. Then came the hospital room¡ªthe sterile white walls, the steady beeping of machines, his mother¡¯s frail body confined to a bed. He had sat by her side, gripping her hand, promising her that things would get better. But deep down, even he hadn¡¯t believed his own words. And then¡­ the pain. The sharp sting of fists colliding with his ribs, his face pressed against the dirty pavement of an alley, laughter echoing in his ears. He had been weak. So, so weak. Powerless against the world that crushed him underfoot. Jisoo clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. Never again. This time, he wouldn¡¯t just survive¡ªhe would fight, claw, and carve his way to something greater. He would make sure that when The Awakening came, he would be ready. No one would take from him again. Jisoo exhaled, rubbing his temples as his thoughts churned. He was throwing everything he had into this¡ªtraining until his muscles screamed, working himself to the bone. There was no room for hesitation, no space for failure. His mother. His sister. They were his reason. His anchor. The only thing that had ever mattered. Every drop of sweat, every aching limb, every sleepless night¡ªit was all for them. He would burn himself down to nothing if it meant they wouldn¡¯t suffer. But then, another thought crept in, unsettling him. Strength wouldn¡¯t matter. Wealth wouldn¡¯t matter. What if none of it was enough? A shiver ran down his spine. His mother¡¯s sickness had taken everything from her, slowly stripping away her strength until she could barely wake up, barely whisper his name. Those moments when she opened her eyes had been so rare, so fleeting. He had spent years searching for a cure, combing through every lead, consulting every desperate rumor. Even in his last 48 hours before regression, he had scoured the internet, spoken to doctors, dug into underground networks¡ªbut nothing. No leads. No hope. His only chance now was to become strong enough to earn something¡ªhidden rewards from fractures, secret artifacts from the Tower, or even a rare ability that could change everything. He let out a slow breath, his fingers brushing over the rough fabric of his blanket. He couldn¡¯t give up. His mother was part of the reason he was doing this. He wouldn¡¯t just fight for survival. He would fight for her. The countdown ticked away, relentless, unyielding. Jisoo exhaled slowly, his resolve sharpening. The real challenge hadn¡¯t even begun. Chapter 4: Ripples in Time Chapter 4: Ripples in Time The fluorescent lights flickered faintly, their buzzing mixing with the low murmur of an old radio behind the counter. The stale scent of instant ramen and cheap coffee clung to the air, a scent Jisoo had grown used to¡ªbut never quite liked. The scent of instant ramen, cheap coffee, and disinfectant lingered in the air¡ªfamiliar, unchanged. Jisoo walked past the shelves with quiet steps, the dull beep of the cashier scanning items echoing in the background. He barely glanced at the products lining the walls, picking up only what he needed¡ªa few ingredients his mother had requested. His mind, however, was elsewhere. He had long since grown used to the monotonous routine of everyday life, but ever since his regression, everything carried a weight that was impossible to ignore. Every step, every interaction, every minor detail¡ªhe saw them all through the lens of the past and future colliding. Two months left. That thought sat at the back of his mind, unwavering. The Awakening was coming. The countdown continued. He reached the counter, placing the items down. The cashier, a half-bored teenager, barely looked at him as they muttered the total. Jisoo paid in silence, pocketing the change before stepping outside. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows on the cracked pavement, the air thick with the quiet lull of a city moving through its routine. The distant hum of traffic blended into the rhythm of neon signs flickering to life. Then, he saw him. A man was walking toward the crosswalk, hands in his pockets, his pace unhurried. Just another passerby, another nameless stranger in the crowd. Except Jisoo had seen this man before. Not in person. But on the news. A traffic accident. A car. A flash of headlights. A fatal impact. Something about them nagged at the back of his mind, a faint unease crawling up his spine¡ªuntil the memory surfaced. The news report had been nothing but background noise at the time, but he had remembered it for one reason: the timing. When he first saw it, he had thought, that could have been me. It was such a small difference in time and place. A fraction of a second, a single step forward, and he could have been the one to die that night. And now, it was happening again. Jisoo¡¯s fingers curled slightly. The man stepped forward. He moved. Brushing past him just enough to knock into him, Jisoo barely felt the impact before hearing the sharp clatter of something hitting the ground. ¡°Ah, damn it.¡± The man cursed under his breath, stopping to kneel down and retrieve his wallet. A few seconds later, a car came hurtling down the street, tires screeching, metal groaning as it swerved wildly out of control. People gasped. A woman shrieked. The car missed the pedestrian ahead by mere inches before veering off, smashing into a lamppost. The would-be victim, the man who should have been hit, was still kneeling, frozen in place, wallet clutched in his trembling hands. His face was pale, eyes locked onto the wreckage ahead, realization dawning far too slowly. He had no idea how close he had come to death. Jisoo did. He stood still, watching, his expression unreadable. The accident had been avoided. A minor delay, a fraction of a second, and the outcome had changed entirely. That was all it took. ¡°This was supposed to happen.¡± ¡°But it didn¡¯t.¡± He didn¡¯t wait to see anything else. No one looked at him, no one acknowledged what he had done. He simply turned and walked away, thoughts calculating, analyzing. A small, nearly insignificant change. But was it really insignificant? If something as simple as bumping into a man could rewrite an event¡­ what else could change? Fate wasn¡¯t set in stone. He had just proven that. But did that mean everything could change? Or were some things inevitable? The thought lingered as he turned a corner¡ªonly to collide with someone head-on. A firm, steady impact¡ªnot enough to send either of them stumbling, but enough to make Jisoo take immediate notice. He looked up. Baek Yoorim. The future leader of Obsidian Fang. Her sharp eyes met his, studying him with a fleeting moment of scrutiny. For a brief second, Jisoo noted how different she seemed from the woman he remembered in the future. That Baek Yoorim had been a force of nature¡ªcold, calculating, an elite strategist feared and respected by all. That version of her had never once acknowledged his existence. This one, however, was staring directly at him. ¡°Have we met before?¡± Her voice was even, but there was a slight edge to it, as though she was piecing together a puzzle she hadn¡¯t realized existed. Jisoo remained calm, forcing a slight shake of his head. ¡°No, I just pass through here often. Nothing special.¡± Her gaze lingered for a second longer, but then she shrugged. Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly, the briefest flicker of something unreadable crossing her face. ¡°Hmph. You¡¯re interesting.¡± With that, she turned and walked away, blending into the passing crowd. Jisoo exhaled slowly, his expression unreadable. Baek Yoorim was sharp. That much hadn¡¯t changed. But something about her before The Awakening felt¡­ different. More perceptive, perhaps. Less guarded than the powerful guild leader she would eventually become. Still, he didn¡¯t dwell on it. He had bigger things to focus on. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. He continued walking, pulling out his phone as he received a message. [Hurry up, slowpoke. My drink¡¯s getting cold.] Nari. Jisoo pocketed his phone, setting his pace forward once more. The Awakening was still two months away. And he still had work to do. Jisoo arrived at the caf¨¦ a few minutes later, the familiar chime of the doorbell ringing as he stepped inside. The place hadn¡¯t changed¡ªwarm lighting, the hum of quiet chatter, the faint scent of coffee and pastries hanging in the air. It was the same as he remembered. And yet, something about it felt¡­ off. His eyes flickered across the interior, scanning the wooden tables and neatly arranged counter displays. It wasn¡¯t until he sat down across from Nari that the realization struck him. This place doesn¡¯t exist in the future. At some point, it had disappeared. Whether it had closed, relocated, or been destroyed¡ªhe didn¡¯t know. But in the world he came from, this caf¨¦ was gone. It was such a small thing. Businesses opened and closed all the time. And yet, the thought gnawed at him. Maybe it was because he had been here so often before things fell apart. Or maybe, deep down, he hated seeing another reminder that the world he once knew wasn¡¯t as solid as it seemed. ¡°Oi.¡± Jisoo blinked, snapping out of his thoughts. Nari was staring at him, one brow raised as she sipped her iced coffee. ¡°You good? You¡¯re making that weird thinking face again.¡± He smirked slightly. ¡°Weird thinking face?¡± ¡°Yeah. You always get that same dumb look when you''re overthinking.¡± Jisoo leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. ¡°I¡¯m not overthinking.¡± Nari stirred her drink lazily, giving him a sideways glance. ¡°You¡¯ve been different these past few months.¡± Jisoo tilted his head slightly. ¡°Different how?¡± She tapped a finger against the table. ¡°I dunno, serious? Focused? Four months ago, you were just going through the motions, but now you¡¯re like a man on a mission.¡± She squinted playfully. ¡°Not that I¡¯m complaining, but¡­ what made you change?¡± Jisoo took a sip of his coffee, thinking for a moment before responding. ¡°Just felt like it was time to stop wasting opportunities.¡± Nari studied him, her lips twitching slightly. ¡°That so?¡± He nodded. ¡°Yeah.¡± She didn¡¯t press further, though he could tell she was still curious. Instead, she leaned back in her chair and stretched. ¡°Well, whatever it is, just don¡¯t work yourself to death, alright?¡± Jisoo chuckled. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine.¡± ¡°Uh-huh.¡± She gave him a knowing look before taking another sip of her drink. ¡°That¡¯s exactly what every fool says before they end up face-first on the floor.¡± He smirked. ¡°Guess I¡¯ll just have to prove you wrong.¡± She rolled her eyes but grinned. ¡°You¡¯re impossible.¡± The conversation drifted to lighter topics, the weight of his thoughts momentarily pushed aside. Yet, as Jisoo sat there, taking in the warmth of the caf¨¦, the easy laughter between them, he couldn¡¯t shake the feeling lingering in the back of his mind. This place wouldn¡¯t last. Neither would this moment. But for now, it was still here. And so was she. Jisoo stepped out into the night air, leaving the caf¨¦ behind as he made his way toward the warehouse. The quiet hum of the city had shifted; the warm glow of streetlights barely cut through the deepening dark. The further he walked, the more the streets thinned out, replaced by long, empty roads leading into the industrial district. By the time he arrived, the transition felt oddly seamless. The soft comfort of the caf¨¦ was gone, replaced by the rigid hum of fluorescent lights and the steady clang of metal. The scent of dust and concrete filled the space, the air slightly cooler inside the massive structure. Stacks of crates lined the loading dock, forming uneven rows like miniature walls. Jisoo adjusted his grip on the heavy crate, muscles straining as he shifted it onto the loading platform. His body had adapted well¡ªfaster recovery, more endurance. The months of relentless training were showing results, even if the system didn¡¯t acknowledge them yet. He had barely spoken to it in weeks. The closer he got to the Awakening, the quieter it seemed to be. Not a denial of his progress, but as if it was waiting for something. ¡°Yo, Jisoo!¡± He turned to see Seokjin struggling with a box, his face twisted in frustration. ¡°A little help here?¡± Jisoo strode over, grabbing the other side of the crate with ease. ¡°You need some help, old man?¡± Seokjin snorted. ¡°Shut up, punk. I ain¡¯t that old.¡± Together, they hoisted the box onto the platform. Seokjin exhaled, shaking his arms out. ¡°Damn thing¡¯s heavier than it looks.¡± He turned to Jisoo, raising an eyebrow. ¡°The hell? You used to struggle with these, and now you¡¯re lifting them like they¡¯re nothing.¡± Jisoo smirked. ¡°Guess I¡¯ve been lifting too many boxes.¡± Seokjin eyed him, mock suspicious. ¡°Nah, this ain¡¯t just from work. You hiding some secret gym sessions or what?¡± Jisoo shrugged, amused. ¡°Something like that.¡± ¡°Tch.¡± Seokjin shook his head, smirking. ¡°At this rate, you¡¯ll be carrying all the heavy crap while I take it easy.¡± Jisoo chuckled. ¡°As long as you don¡¯t start slacking off.¡± ¡°Who, me? Never.¡± Seokjin rolled his shoulders. ¡°You got a hell of a work ethic, though. It¡¯s kinda nuts how much you do here.¡± Jisoo simply smiled, but he didn¡¯t respond. He wasn¡¯t about to tell Seokjin the real reason behind his sudden growth. As the shift continued, Jisoo fell into the rhythm of work, mind sharp despite the exhaustion setting into his limbs. He had two months left. The system remained silent, as if waiting. But that was fine. When the time came, he would be ready. Jisoo, now at home, leaned back against the worn-out couch in his small room, staring at the ceiling as his mind sifted through the past four months. The steady hum of the city outside his window felt distant, drowned out by the weight of his thoughts. It had been a long and relentless process, but he had made undeniable progress. Physically, his improvements had exceeded his initial expectations. His endurance had nearly tripled, his stamina holding up far better than it had when he first started. He had adapted to long work hours, late-night runs, and exhausting training sessions without feeling like his body was betraying him. His muscles, though not overly defined, were leaner and stronger. He could lift more, move faster, react quicker. And yet, the system had remained dormant. The interface still displayed no changes. No stat increases. No new messages. The silence was unsettling. The closer he got to the Awakening, the less it seemed to respond, as if waiting for the day everything would truly begin. But Jisoo didn¡¯t let that discourage him. His progress wasn¡¯t just limited to physical growth. Over the past months, he had immersed himself in learning everything he could. Financial strategies, economic patterns, trading techniques¡ªhe had studied it all, ensuring that even if he knew the right answers in the future, he wouldn¡¯t make foolish mistakes when the time came. Knowing the lottery numbers and investment opportunities wasn¡¯t enough¡ªhe needed to understand how to manipulate those opportunities to their fullest potential. Beyond that, he had begun tracking key figures¡ªpeople who would become important once the Awakening arrived. Rising awakeners, corporate moguls, future guild leaders. He had observed their movements, their habits, their rise in power. A few times, he had debated whether to act¡ªto try influencing them now before they became untouchable. But each time, he brushed it off. It was too risky. Without his notebook, without full access to his system, he was still walking in partial darkness. So he waited. He had been strategizing for months on what to do once the Awakening hit, drafting multiple plans depending on how events unfolded. But no matter how much he prepared, there were too many variables he couldn¡¯t account for yet. Without the notebook¡¯s data, some things were still uncertain. Still, he was eager. He was done waiting. The day needed to come already. Yet, part of him dreaded it as well. Because the Awakening day meant he would have to go through it all again¡ªhis mother getting sick. The hospital visits. Watching her health deteriorate, knowing that time was running out. That bitter reality clung to him like a weight on his chest. But instead of crushing him, it only reinforced his resolve. He clenched his fists. I won¡¯t let history repeat itself. Jisoo pushed himself up from the couch and grabbed his jacket, stepping out onto the rooftop of the apartment complex. The night air was crisp, the glow of the city stretching endlessly before him. From up here, everything looked calm, undisturbed. But in two months, this skyline would become unrecognizable. The streets would be filled with chaos. The world would shift into a battleground, people fighting to survive, to gain power, to carve their place in the new order. The fractures would tear open reality, dungeons would spawn creatures never before seen in this world, and society itself would collapse under the weight of the unknown. And he would be ready for it. Jisoo exhaled slowly, his gaze flickering to the system interface hovering faintly in the corner of his vision. The countdown continued its silent march forward. Once The Awakening began, hesitation would mean death, and uncertainty would be fatal. He needed to be ready¡ªnot just to survive, but to take control before others even realized what was happening. He would find the first opportunity to seize an advantage, secure the resources that would set him apart, and eliminate future threats before they could ever reach him or his family. This time, I¡¯ll be ready. The wind howled softly, rustling his hair. The lights of the city blinked, unaware of the storm that was about to come. The Awakening was near. Chapter 5: The Countdown to Change Chapter 5: The Countdown to Change The final sunrise before the Awakening had arrived. Two months had passed since Jisoo altered fate for the first time. Two months since he watched the countdown in his system tick steadily toward the inevitable. And now, the wait was over. The city was no different than it had been the day before. The streets were the same, the skyline still stretching high into the heavens, oblivious to what was coming. People moved through their routines¡ªrushing to work, eating at caf¨¦s, wasting their time on mundane worries, unaware that their world was about to be rewritten in blood and power. Jisoo had been waiting for this day. His breath was even as he took his final jog through the early morning streets, the crisp air biting against his skin. His feet hit the pavement in a steady rhythm, muscles burning, lungs expanding with each breath. It was a familiar pain, one he had come to respect over the past half-year. Six months. That was all the time he had before the Awakening. And he had used every second of it. He had started with nothing¡ªjust the knowledge in his head, a body barely able to hold up under the weight of survival, and a locked system that refused to grant him an ounce of its power until the world changed. So, he adapted. He had no shortcuts, no sudden surge of strength, just raw, relentless effort. At first, he had struggled. His muscles screamed. His body fought against him. But he had learned something valuable¡ªpain was temporary. The only thing that mattered was pushing through it. He had forced himself forward, step by step, until weakness was something he left behind on the road. And now? Jisoo came to a stop, sweat clinging to his skin as he exhaled deeply, glancing at the sky just as the first hints of daylight broke over the horizon. He had exceeded his expectations. His endurance had surpassed what he originally aimed for¡ªhis stamina no longer lagged behind his will. He could keep moving, keep pushing, without feeling like his body was betraying him. His physique had changed, though not drastically. He was leaner, stronger, but he knew real physical transformation took years, not mere months. Still, he had reached a level where he could rely on his own body rather than curse its limits. He had prepared himself as much as he could. He had studied relentlessly, delving into economics, resource management, and combat strategies. He had debated making a move early, planting seeds before the Awakening, but ultimately held back¡ªhe couldn¡¯t risk acting on incomplete information. The notebook¡¯s knowledge was still locked away. He had tracked the Iron Hand¡¯s movements as well, noting their usual routines, the way they operated. They were a problem that would need to be handled¡ªsoon. But all of it led to one undeniable truth¡ª Now, all that was left was to step into the storm. His system had remained silent. As if watching. As if waiting. Jisoo ran a hand through his damp hair and turned, making his way back home. The streets, once peaceful in the early morning haze, felt different now. The weight of anticipation pressed against him, but his resolve remained unshaken. He had spent half a year clawing his way toward an uncertain future. He was not about to falter now. As he reached his neighborhood, he slowed his pace. And then he saw him. His father. Standing outside a parked car, laughing. With a woman who wasn¡¯t his mother. Jisoo stilled, breath steady but pulse beating with something heavier than exhaustion. He watched them from a distance, unnoticed, unseen. She was younger than his mother, her hair perfectly styled, her makeup light but purposeful. The kind of woman who carried herself like she owned the world, draped in luxury, leaning against the sleek car as if she belonged to it. And his father? He looked at her the way he had long since stopped looking at their family¡ªas if nothing else in the world mattered. Jisoo¡¯s fingers twitched, but he didn¡¯t move. So this was it. The answer to why his father had thrown them away. Why he had taken out a loan so absurd it had ruined them. Why he had walked away without a second glance, leaving behind a sick wife and two struggling children. All for this. For a moment, something sharp and ugly twisted in his chest. Once, he might have felt the need to confront him. To demand answers. To shout. But now? Now, he saw the truth clearly¡ªthere was nothing left to say. What was the point? He had spent years hating this man. Letting that hate consume him, letting it define him. But standing here now, with all the knowledge of what was to come, he felt nothing but detachment. This man was already dead to him. Whatever life he was playing at now¡ªit would all crumble soon enough. If anything, it only made it easier to hate him and forget him. That was the easy part; the hard part would be when his mother found out. Jisoo turned away. He wouldn''t tell his mother. He wouldn''t say a word. At least for now. She still had today. She still had this last, peaceful moment of normalcy. He wouldn¡¯t take that from her. The Awakening would strip away enough from their lives soon enough. And when that happened¡ª When his father inevitably fled, abandoning them in a world turned upside down¡ª Jisoo would be ready. Jisoo stepped onto the familiar streets of his neighborhood, his mind still preoccupied with the scene he had just witnessed. His father, laughing, carefree, wrapped up in a life he had chosen over them. The bitterness sat in the back of his throat, but he swallowed it down. It didn¡¯t matter anymore. The past had already shaped him. The future was where his focus lay. As he neared his house, his steps slowed. A man stood by the door, leaning against the frame with an air of easy confidence, like he belonged there. He hadn¡¯t knocked yet, just waiting, as if he already knew someone would answer. The sight of him sent a ripple of unease through Jisoo¡¯s gut¡ªnot fear, not quite, but the sharp awareness of a problem standing in front of him. Iron Hand. The man finally raised his hand and knocked¡ªthree slow, deliberate raps against the wood. Not rushed, not impatient. Purposeful. Jisoo exhaled through his nose, his fingers curling slightly before he forced them to relax. He stepped forward, closing the remaining distance between them just as the man shifted his weight, turning his gaze lazily toward him. ¡°Ah,¡± the man said, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. ¡°Perfect timing.¡± Jisoo didn¡¯t respond, simply stopping a foot away, his expression blank. The man looked him over, amused by something only he understood. ¡°You live here, right?¡± he continued, voice casual, almost friendly. ¡°Figured I¡¯d drop by for a little chat. You see, your old man¡¯s a little late on his payment this time.¡± Jisoo¡¯s eyes remained steady, but inside, pieces were already falling into place. Late? That wasn¡¯t right. His mother had always ensured the payments were made on time. It had been their lifeline¡ªensuring Iron Hand never had a reason to cause problems. But now¡­ Now, Jisoo knew exactly where that money had gone. The realization settled like a stone in his chest. His father had taken it. The last payment. And instead of keeping his family safe, he had spent it on her. The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. The man clicked his tongue, breaking the silence. ¡°You folks have been pretty reliable, so this is just a courtesy visit. A little reminder. Wouldn¡¯t want this to become a habit, you understand?¡± His smile didn¡¯t quite reach his eyes. Jisoo didn¡¯t need to be told twice¡ªthis was a warning. A peaceful one, for now. But the unspoken weight behind the words was clear. Jisoo forced a neutral expression, his voice even. "I¡¯ll take care of it. Wait here." The man quirked an eyebrow but said nothing as Jisoo turned, stepping inside without another word. He moved quickly, retrieving the necessary amount from his personal savings¡ªmoney he had intended to use sparingly, stretching it out to cover any emergencies before the Awakening. But this? This needed to be handled now. Returning to the door, Jisoo held out the cash, his expression unreadable. The man took it, counting it briefly before slipping it into his pocket. ¡°That¡¯s what I like to hear,¡± he said with a satisfied nod. He pushed off the doorframe, stretching his arms out with an exaggerated sigh before stepping away. ¡°Hopefully, this is the first and last time, yeah? We wouldn¡¯t want my boss getting too interested in your family¡¯s situation.¡± With that, he turned, walking off down the street as if they had simply exchanged pleasantries. Jisoo stayed rooted in place, watching him go, his mind already calculating his next move. There was no need to tell his mother. He had enough saved to cover this payment, and soon, money wouldn¡¯t be an issue at all. He just had to wait a little longer. Just until tomorrow. He inhaled deeply, shaking off the lingering weight of the encounter, and stepped inside. His mother was in the kitchen, humming softly to herself as she prepared dinner. The scent of home-cooked food filled the air, warm and familiar. For a moment, Jisoo just stood there, taking it all in. This was the last normal evening they would ever have together. The warmth of home wrapped around Jisoo the moment he stepped inside, a stark contrast to the cold weight lingering in his chest. The scent of simmering broth and freshly cooked rice filled the small space, blending with the soft hum of a familiar tune. His mother stood at the stove, her movements fluid and practiced as she ladled soup into bowls, her expression calm, content. For a moment, he just watched. This was home. The same as it had always been. The same as it would not be for much longer. His mother turned at the sound of his footsteps, a gentle smile spreading across her face. ¡°You¡¯re back early today.¡± Jisoo nodded, stepping further inside. ¡°I don''t have work today.¡± She gestured toward the table, already set with dishes. ¡°Oh, I see. Go sit, I was just about to call for Nari.¡± He hesitated for a split second before complying, moving toward his usual seat. It was so normal. The easy rhythm of their lives, the unspoken comfort in the way his mother moved around the kitchen. It felt like any other night. But it wasn¡¯t. His gaze flickered to his mother¡¯s hands as she set down a bowl in front of him. There was a faint tremor in her fingers, barely noticeable. Something he wouldn¡¯t have caught before. Something he never did catch before. Guilt curled in his gut, but he forced it down. Not yet. Nari entered the room, stretching her arms as she plopped down in the seat across from him. ¡°You could¡¯ve at least called me out earlier,¡± she muttered, grabbing her chopsticks. ¡°I was trying to study, not fall asleep.¡± Their mother chuckled. ¡°You needed the rest more than you think. Burning yourself out won¡¯t help you learn any faster.¡± Jisoo remained silent, watching them, committing every detail to memory. The soft clink of chopsticks against bowls. The distant hum of the refrigerator. The warmth of the light overhead, casting a gentle glow on their mother¡¯s face. He had to remember this. Because soon, there would be no more peaceful dinners. Soon, his mother¡¯s hands would weaken, her body betraying her. Soon, Nari¡¯s laughter would be laced with worry, with desperation. Soon¡ª Jisoo clenched his fists beneath the table. He wouldn¡¯t let it happen. He didn¡¯t care if the past had no record of a cure. Didn¡¯t care if every doctor, every report, every desperate attempt in his past life had ended in failure. He would search the ends of the world if he had to. If there was even one possibility, one hint of an answer, he would find it. Even if it meant breaking every unspoken rule of his regression, bending fate itself to his will. ¡°Jisoo?¡± His mother¡¯s voice pulled him back. He blinked, realizing she was looking at him with quiet concern. ¡°You¡¯re zoning out again.¡± Nari snorted, shaking her head. ¡°He¡¯s been like that a lot lately. It¡¯s weird.¡± Jisoo exhaled softly, schooling his features into something lighter. ¡°Just thinking about work.¡± His mother¡¯s eyes lingered on him for a moment longer before she smiled gently. ¡°Don¡¯t overwork yourself, sweetheart. No matter how important it is, don¡¯t forget to take care of yourself too.¡± The words settled over him like a quiet ache. She had always been like this¡ªworried about them, never herself. ¡°I know.¡± His voice was steady. ¡°I will.¡± A lie. But one she needed to hear. Dinner passed in a blur of simple conversation. Nari complaining about school, their mother gently scolding her for skipping breakfast, Jisoo offering the occasional comment. It was normal. Painfully normal. And he held onto it for as long as he could. Later that night, after Nari had gone back to her room and their mother was finishing up in the kitchen, Jisoo lingered near the doorway. He should have gone to his room. Should have let the night end like any other. But something kept him there. His mother noticed. She glanced up from where she was drying her hands, tilting her head slightly. ¡°What is it?¡± Jisoo hesitated, his throat tightening. There was so much he wanted to say. So much he couldn¡¯t say. Instead, he stepped forward, gently reaching out. Before she could react, he wrapped his arms around her, holding on just long enough to feel her warmth, to memorize the feeling of her presence. She stiffened in surprise before laughing softly, patting his back. ¡°What¡¯s this? You¡¯re not usually one for hugs.¡± Jisoo forced out a small chuckle, pulling away before he lost his resolve. ¡°Just felt like it.¡± She smiled, a little amused, a little touched. ¡°Well, don¡¯t make it such a rare thing.¡± He nodded, stepping back toward the hallway. ¡°Goodnight, Mom.¡± ¡°Goodnight, sweetheart.¡± As he turned away, his face fell back into unreadable neutrality. The warmth of her touch lingered, but so did the bitter weight in his chest. Tomorrow, the world would change. And he would never let her go. Jisoo pushed open the door to his room, stepping inside with slow, deliberate movements. The moment he shut it behind him, the outside world faded. The quiet hum of the apartment still lingered beyond the walls, but here, in this small, dimly lit space, everything felt distant. His room was as it had always been¡ªsimple, sparse, functional. A neatly made bed. A small desk cluttered with books and loose sheets of paper. A single lamp casting a muted glow over the wooden floor. Nothing about it had changed in the past months, and yet, tonight, it felt different. Because after tonight, nothing would ever be the same again. Jisoo exhaled softly, rolling his shoulders before dropping onto the bed. He stared at the ceiling, arms resting behind his head. His body ached in the familiar way that came after a long day¡ªhis limbs heavy from the weight of training, his muscles fatigued yet alive with the progress he had made. He had pushed himself beyond what he thought possible. His endurance, his stamina¡ªit had all improved beyond his original expectations. Six months of relentless effort. No system assistance. No enhancements. Just pure, raw determination. And now, the moment was almost here. He glanced toward the small clock on his desk. Less than an hour remained. Jisoo¡¯s thoughts drifted, running over every detail he had planned, every scenario he had prepared for. He had accounted for as much as possible. The Awakening would come, and he would not be caught off guard this time. He would seize every advantage, every opportunity, without hesitation. His fingers curled slightly at his sides. I¡¯m ready. And yet¡­ there was still the matter of the unknown. The things beyond his control. The things even his regression couldn¡¯t account for. His mind wandered to his mother. To Nari. To the impending storm that would consume everything around them. He had no doubt in his ability to survive, to grow stronger¡ªbut his strength alone wasn¡¯t enough. He needed to be faster. Smarter. He needed to ensure they stayed safe, no matter what it took. Jisoo let out a slow breath, closing his eyes for a moment. The weight of it all pressed against him, but he didn¡¯t let it overwhelm him. He had come too far for doubts. Then, for the first time in months¡ª A voice spoke. [¡°Your effort has been noticed.¡±] Jisoo¡¯s eyes snapped open. The voice was familiar. Warm, almost reassuring. It wasn¡¯t the cold, mechanical tone of a rigid AI. No, his system had always spoken like someone¡ªsomething¡ªaware. [¡°Rewards are being calculated."] His breath stilled for half a second. He sat up slowly, staring at the empty space before him. The words hadn¡¯t appeared as text. There was no glowing interface, no projection. Just the voice. Speaking as if it had been there all along, waiting for the right moment. Jisoo¡¯s mind worked quickly, piecing together the implications. The system had been dormant for months, completely silent. It hadn¡¯t acknowledged anything¡ªhis training, his progress, his attempts at interaction. And now, just as the Awakening was about to begin, it suddenly responded. He narrowed his eyes slightly. ¡°What kind of rewards?¡± There was a pause, almost thoughtful. [¡°Please wait until the Awakening is complete.¡±] Jisoo exhaled through his nose, leaning back slightly. ¡°So you¡¯re back, huh?¡± A small beat of silence. Then¡ª [¡°I never left. I was simply waiting.¡±] Jisoo¡¯s lips curled into the faintest smirk. ¡°Waiting for what?¡± [¡°For you.¡±] Something in his chest tightened at that. But he didn¡¯t let it linger. The countdown ticked lower. The final minute stretched into mere seconds. Outside, the city was quiet, unaware of the change that was about to wash over it. The air felt heavier, charged with something unseen. Jisoo didn¡¯t need to check the clock anymore. He could feel it coming. A single breath. [¡°The Awakening begins now.¡±] Then¡ª The world changed. The sky outside his window darkened unnaturally, the city lights flickering erratically. A deep, pulsating hum filled the air, vibrating through the very fabric of existence. Jisoo sat still, unmoving, his heart steady even as he watched the transformation unfold. The time had come once more. But this time, the outcome would not follow the same path. The countdown had reached zero. Then, as if the very fabric of reality trembled, a voice echoed through the night¡ªvast, all-encompassing, laced with something both ancient and undeniable. ["Hello, humans."] Chapter 6: When the Sky Shattered Chapter 6: When the Sky Shattered The world held its breath. The silence that followed those first two words was suffocating, unnatural, as if existence itself had momentarily frozen in anticipation. Then, without warning, the voice returned¡ªcalm, steady, inhumanly vast. It was neither a whisper nor a shout, but it resonated everywhere at once, seeping into the very fabric of reality. ["Do not be afraid. This is a necessary step."] A beat passed before it continued, carrying the weight of inevitability. ["You have been chosen. Your world is changing. And to survive, you must change with it."] The words held no malice, yet an undeniable finality settled over everything they touched. There was no choice, no negotiation¡ªthis was simply the way things would be. ["New forces beyond your comprehension will soon emerge. Some will be hostile, others will be opportunities. To ensure your survival, I have granted you a system¡ªa means to evolve, to fight back, to carve your place in what comes next."] ["Every human will awaken. Each of you has been given a unique ability, suited to your potential."] Then, for the first time, the voice shifted¡ªits tone turning strangely contemplative, as if observing a long-unfolding experiment. ["Some of you will rise to greatness. Others will fall, consumed by their own weakness. Such is the nature of trials. And this¡­ is my gift to you."] The sky fractured. A deep crimson glow split through the heavens, cracks expanding outward like shattered glass, revealing something beyond¡ªa void of writhing, shifting darkness, swirling with symbols that pulsed like dying stars. The weight of something unseen pressed down upon the world, a force so immense it made the very air feel heavier. Every living creature felt it. Animals reacted first. Dogs whimpered and collapsed, their bodies curling in submission. Birds, mid-flight, dropped from the sky as if their very instincts had betrayed them. In the far distance, something howled¡ªa sound primal and filled with an understanding that humans had yet to grasp. And then, the true chaos began. Cities erupted in panic. Car horns blared as drivers lost control. Screams filled the streets, a mixture of confusion and terror. People clutched their heads as translucent interfaces materialized before their eyes, words forming in a language they understood instinctively, even if they had never seen it before. But Jisoo¡­ He remained still. He had expected this. He had lived this before. And yet¡ª His interface was different. The standard awakening message should have appeared, the same notification that every other person in the world was seeing. But instead, his interface did something no one else¡¯s did. It spoke. ["Congratulations, Jisoo. You chose well."] The text flickered, shifting before his eyes, until it took shape¡ªnot static words on a translucent screen, but a voice within his mind. A voice that sounded aware. ["System integration in progress. Calculating rewards."] A pulse rushed through his body. Jisoo staggered, gripping his chest as something awakened within him. Strength. Power. A sensation like fire crawling through his veins¡ªnot painful, but overwhelming. His heart pounded, muscles tensed, as his very biology restructured itself. The world around him seemed sharper, clearer. The distant city lights burned brighter, the hum of electricity in the wires above suddenly audible. The cold night air no longer stung¡ªhis body regulated itself instantly, adapting faster than any normal human should be able to. ["Fusion Awakening complete. Initial rewards granted."] His vision adjusted to the glowing status screen before him, listing out his rewards in crisp, structured text:
[Awakening Rewards Granted] ? Enhanced Physical Capabilities ¨C Your strength, agility, and reflexes have been significantly enhanced due to your training. ? Regressor¡¯s Momentum (Passive Skill Unlocked) ¨C Grants increased XP gain, quest rewards, and skill progression. ? Notebook Fusion System Activated ¨C Partial access granted. Some entries remain locked. ? Stat Boost Applied ¨C You have been granted an initial advantage over standard awakeners.
A sharp breath left Jisoo as his body tensed involuntarily. His muscles burned¡ªnot in pain, but in overwhelming activation. His heartbeat slammed against his ribs, his lungs expanding as if they had never taken a full breath before. His senses twisted, the world sharpening too fast, too vividly. He stumbled, gripping his arm, trying to steady himself as his body adjusted. He had expected to be stronger than a normal Awakener, but this? This was a cut above. His eyes flickered back to the interface, where one final notification appeared¡ªa small glitch in the text, warping and distorting for a brief moment before settling into two words: [Locked.] A shiver crawled down his spine. Jisoo had seen this before. The Awakening had always ended with a final message from the voice. A farewell. But this time, something was different. ["Humanity¡­ will¡­ e?r?r?o?r?¡­ be strong. Good¡ª"] The words glitched, distorted, like a corrupt audio file skipping at the final syllable. Then, silence. The red sky faded, the fractures sealing themselves as if they had never existed. The voice was gone. But its final, broken words lingered in Jisoo¡¯s mind. Was that a mistake? A transmission error? Or¡­ was it something more? His thoughts were interrupted by the distant sound of screaming. The world had changed. Once again. Jisoo exhaled, his mind still processing the final glitch in the voice¡¯s message. His gaze remained fixed on the [Locked.] notification in his interface, an unsettling reminder that there was something more¡ªsomething hidden beyond his reach. Frowning, he turned his attention inward, focusing on the presence within his system. ¡°Why does that say ¡®Locked¡¯? What exactly is hidden?¡± For a brief moment, there was silence. Then, the system responded in its usual composed tone, clear and direct. Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. [¡°Certain knowledge is restricted until specific conditions are met. You must progress further.¡±] Jisoo narrowed his eyes. ¡°And those conditions?¡± [¡°Unknown. Some information requires direct experience to unlock.¡±] It was an answer, but not one he particularly liked. Still, it confirmed what he suspected¡ªthe system itself had limitations. There were things it either couldn¡¯t reveal or wasn¡¯t allowed to. Shaking off his unease, he moved to his next question. ¡°Why was I granted all these rewards?¡± [¡°Your actions prior to The Awakening were considered exceptional. Your consistent training, preparation, and strategic planning placed you significantly above the average human. The rewards you received are a reflection of that effort.¡±] That made sense. It wasn¡¯t an arbitrary gift¡ªit was something he had earned. Even if this wasn¡¯t what he originally expected, it was an undeniable advantage. Jisoo let out a slow breath before asking what he truly needed to know. ¡°What about the Notebook Fusion System? How much of it is accessible?¡± [¡°Full access to all information you personally recorded has been granted.¡±] His fingers twitched at his side. That was huge. If everything he had written about stocks, business strategies, and market manipulations was available¡ªthen financial security was guaranteed. However, before he could even ask, the system continued. [¡°Additionally, the system contains supplementary information beyond what you recorded. Some of this data remains locked until you meet specific conditions.¡±] Jisoo frowned. ¡°What do you mean by additional information?¡± [¡°For example¡ªhidden rooms, undiscovered items, rare event triggers, and crucial details that were unknown to you in your past life. As you progress, these will gradually be revealed.¡±] That changed everything. He had assumed he was only working with what he had written before regression, but if the system itself had more information¡ªthen there were secrets even he didn¡¯t know yet. ¡°Understood,¡± he muttered. ¡°Let¡¯s put it to the test.¡± The world outside had already begun its descent into disorder. Shouts echoed through the streets. Some people stood frozen, staring at the glowing screens before them. Others were panicking¡ªsome from fear, others from reckless excitement. It didn¡¯t take long for the first crimes to occur. A man suddenly lashed out at another, his newly awakened strength sending the victim crashing into a storefront window. A few blocks away, a teenager set a car on fire with nothing but his bare hands, laughing in exhilaration as flames danced up his arms¡ªhis new ability seemingly protecting him from the heat. It was the same as last time. The government was scrambling to establish order. Police sirens blared, but they wouldn¡¯t be able to control what was happening. Social media was already flooded with videos of people testing their abilities, some showcasing bizarre powers, others making outrageous claims about their newfound strength. And amidst all the confusion, fractures were forming. Jisoo could already see the faint distortions in the air¡ªunstable dimensional rifts, barely visible. No one understood what they were yet, but he knew better. They were the true test of The Awakening. Not yet, he reminded himself. I have more pressing matters first. While others were still trying to comprehend what was happening, Jisoo had no time to waste. The first step was securing his financial stability. Opening his interface, he navigated to his notebook archives, where everything was meticulously categorized by dates and subjects, making it effortless to navigate. He searched for the lottery numbers he had written down before his regression. His past self had methodically recorded winning sequences for several weeks in a row¡ªhis way of ensuring he¡¯d never have to struggle for money after returning. A set of numbers appeared on the screen, perfectly intact. Jisoo smirked. ¡°Let¡¯s see if things are still the same.¡± Without hesitation, he grabbed his phone, using an online service to purchase a digital lottery ticket. It was a simple transaction¡ªone that would ensure he had access to a fortune by the end of the week. Of course, he had no intention of claiming the winnings directly. He would use proxies, create a paper trail that led nowhere near him. His name would never be attached to the money. ¡°Step one, done.¡± Next, he needed to pay off the pre-existing debt to Iron Hand. His father hadn¡¯t taken out the big loan yet¡ªthat would happen later, after his mother fell sick. But the smaller, recurring debt his family had been forced to pay off over the years? That needed to be dealt with immediately. Jisoo had already anticipated this moment. He didn¡¯t have enough saved to cover it yet, but with his lottery winnings secured, it was only a matter of time before he could clear the debt completely. For now, he needed to ensure everything was in place for the transaction. Jisoo sat in his dimly lit room, his mind still processing everything that had happened. His conversation with the system had left him with more answers than he expected, yet it had also opened doors to countless new questions. The knowledge that additional information existed, locked behind conditions he had yet to fulfill, made him wonder just how much was hidden beyond his reach. But for now, there was nothing more he could do about it. His financial security was partially handled¡ªfor now. The lottery numbers were recorded, and all that remained was to wait. Within a few days, he would have enough money to erase his family''s debt. Until then, there was nothing else he could do regarding Iron Hand. He exhaled sharply, his gaze shifting toward the faint glow of the city outside his window. Chaos had begun brewing in the streets, but there was little he could do about that either. For now, his best course of action was to focus on himself. He pulled up his status window. With his financial plan set in motion, Jisoo turned his attention to something far more critical¡ªhis own power. His stats were already leagues above the average Awakened from what he remembered, but numbers alone weren¡¯t enough. Knowledge without practical experience meant nothing in real combat. He started small, testing his reflexes, movement, and stamina. The physical enhancements granted by the Awakening were evident. His body felt lighter, stronger, more responsive¡ªbut there was still a noticeable disconnect between his mind and his muscle memory. His brain knew what to do, but his body wasn¡¯t trained to act on instinct. He moved through a set of quick exercises, testing the limits of his agility and endurance. A few sprints around the apartment, shadowboxing to gauge his hand-eye coordination, and adjusting to the heightened sense of awareness that came with his improved perception. His balance was off. His speed outpaced his control, and his reactions, though sharp, lacked refinement. His strikes were faster, stronger than before, but they lacked the precise control that could make them lethal in a real fight. ¡°Tch.¡± He clicked his tongue in annoyance. This wasn¡¯t enough. Frustration built inside him. He had the knowledge. He had the stats. But there was still a gap between what he knew and what he could do. His past self had struggled endlessly, wishing for an edge like this. Now, he had it, and it still wasn¡¯t enough. That realization only made his resolve stronger. If he wanted to truly test himself, he needed to face something real. And there was one place to do that. Jisoo didn¡¯t hesitate any longer. If there was one place designed to push people to their limits, it was the Tower. Unlike fractures, which appeared randomly in the world, the Tower was a controlled environment¡ªa systematic test of strength and adaptability. It was also the fastest way to grow stronger and earn rewards early on. Without wasting another second, he navigated his system interface, his eyes landing on the new option now available to all Awakened: [Tower of Trials ¨C Enter?] A deep breath. Then, he accepted. The moment he did, the world shifted. His surroundings melted away as if reality itself had unraveled. A weightless sensation took over, and for a brief moment, he felt as though he was floating in an empty void. Then¡ª The Tower welcomed him. His feet landed on solid ground, but the air felt different¡ªheavier, charged with an unfamiliar energy. A vast, enclosed space stretched out before him, bathed in eerie blue light. The floor beneath him was smooth, pristine stone, and ahead, a series of tall, vacant buildings lined the area, resembling a city frozen in time. Despite their grand architecture, every structure was sealed shut, lifeless and untouched. Jisoo walked forward cautiously, his gaze sweeping across the space. The Tower Hub. This was the entrance¡ªa transition zone for all challengers. Despite the grandeur of the buildings, they served no purpose yet. Every door was locked, the interiors shrouded in darkness. The Tower would eventually reveal its hidden mechanics, but not yet. Right now, the only active point of interest was at the very center. At the heart of the hub, a massive, shimmering fracture hovered in place¡ªthe gateway to the Tower¡¯s trials. The moment his gaze landed on it, his system flickered. [Welcome, Challenger. You have entered the Tower of Trials.] A low hum filled the air as the fracture pulsed, its distorted surface reflecting countless possibilities. Unlike normal fractures, which led to unpredictable rifts, the Tower was designed to test and reward. Jisoo clenched his fists, anticipation thrumming through him. This was it. His first real challenge. He approached the fracture, his footsteps steady. The moment he pressed his palm against its swirling surface, it responded¡ªa ripple of light spreading outward. The distortion expanded rapidly, swallowing him whole. The air tightened around him. The first trial had begun. Chapter 7: The First Step Toward Mastery Chapter 7: The First Step Toward Mastery A fracture. The massive, swirling distortion of space hovered a few meters ahead, pulsing softly, its surface rippling like disturbed water. Unlike the fractures appearing in the real world, this one was stable, controlled. It wasn¡¯t a chaotic tear in reality¡ªit was a gateway, a deliberate challenge meant to test and mold those who dared to step forward. Jisoo exhaled, rolling his shoulders as he mentally prepared himself. This wasn¡¯t just about gaining power¡ªit was about proving something to himself. He had knowledge. He had preparation. But none of that mattered if he couldn¡¯t execute. His system chimed softly. [Tower of Trials: Floor 1 Available] A confirmation panel materialized before him. [Would you like to begin?] [Yes] [No] There was no hesitation. He pressed [Yes]. The moment he did, the fracture surged open, expanding outward like an unfurling portal. An unseen force pulled at his body, and the world around him blurred into streaks of blue and silver. A brief weightlessness overtook him before everything snapped back into focus. The shift in atmosphere was immediate. The sterile stillness of the Tower Hub was replaced by an ancient ruin, the air thick with the scent of moss and damp stone. Jisoo found himself in a dimly lit corridor, towering pillars stretching toward the unseen ceiling above, their surfaces engraved with faded markings. The walls bore the scars of age, cracked and worn, yet the place still radiated an undeniable presence¡ªas if it were watching. A notification appeared in his interface. [First Combat Trial: Eliminate all enemies and find the exit.] Beneath it, an additional line flickered into existence, separate from the standard Tower instructions. [Your past knowledge is useful, but real combat is different. Adapt.] Jisoo smirked. His system was direct, if nothing else. He adjusted his grip on his weapon¡ªa basic yet sturdy sword, summoned by the system for the trial. It felt natural in his hands, his grip firm, but there was still an underlying stiffness to his movements. He needed to shake off the hesitation. He inhaled deeply, steadying his pulse. It¡¯s just goblins. Weak enemies. I¡¯ve got this. Or so he thought. The first sign of movement came from the shadows ahead. Two goblins emerged, their eyes gleaming with predatory hunger. They were smaller than a grown man, but their movements were unnervingly quick¡ªfar faster than he expected. Their snarls echoed against the stone walls, the sound primal, unrestrained. Jisoo moved. He lunged forward, executing a perfect textbook strike¡ªhis blade cutting through the air with trained precision. He had studied their attack patterns, their weaknesses. This should have been an instant kill. But the goblin dodged. Jisoo¡¯s sword barely grazed its side, the momentum throwing off his balance. His mind knew what to do, but his body lagged behind, reacting just a fraction too slow. The second goblin seized the opening, its crude dagger flashing toward his ribs. Jisoo twisted instinctively, the blade narrowly missing his side, but the sudden dodge cost him his footing. He stumbled, his knee hitting the ground hard. His system reacted instantly. [Your mind knows what to do, but your body hesitated. Move faster.] Jisoo gritted his teeth, frustration flashing through him. So that¡¯s how it is. This wasn¡¯t a game. His knowledge meant nothing if his body couldn¡¯t execute it. He forced himself back up, his grip tightening on the hilt of his sword. The first goblin lunged again, its jagged teeth bared. This time, he was ready. Jisoo sidestepped smoothly, adjusting mid-motion, and brought his blade down in a precise arc. The goblin¡¯s snarl cut off abruptly as the steel sliced cleanly through its throat. It fell. Jisoo¡¯s breathing was steady, but his chest felt oddly heavy. He had seen countless deaths in his past life¡ªon the news, in stories, even firsthand. But he had never caused one himself. For a moment, he just stared at the body. The stillness of it. The way the light dimmed in its lifeless eyes. He had read about this feeling¡ªthe first kill was always the hardest. His fingers flexed, and his grip on the sword tightened. His heart thudded in his chest, not from fear, but from realization. The system didn¡¯t pressure him, didn¡¯t dismiss the moment. Instead, a simple notification appeared before him. [First Kill Achieved.] And then, a soft, almost understanding message. ¡°It¡¯s normal to feel this way. But you have no time to dwell on it.¡± Jisoo exhaled sharply. The second goblin charged. This time, there was no hesitation. His blade moved smoother. The goblin swiped at him, but he redirected his stance effortlessly, weaving past its attack before plunging his sword straight into its chest. The creature gurgled once before collapsing. Jisoo pulled back, his breathing evening out. His second kill. And this time, it felt different. His hesitation hadn¡¯t vanished completely, but it was fading. A message appeared. [Better. Now refine it.] Jisoo smirked. His system was encouraging him. It wasn¡¯t just about survival anymore. This was a process. A refinement. And he was only getting started. Jisoo exhaled sharply, steadying his breath as the second goblin collapsed before him. The battle had been short, yet in those moments, his mind had raced through every possible outcome. Victory felt different when it was earned with his own hands. As the goblin''s body began to dissolve, a faint glow pulsed where it had fallen. A notification flickered across his vision. [Mana Core Acquired.] Jisoo¡¯s gaze snapped to the small, hovering sphere of light that replaced the goblin¡¯s corpse. The core was dull gray, no larger than a marble, but its significance was far greater than its unassuming appearance suggested. He crouched, plucking the core from the air. The moment his fingers closed around it, a familiar sensation coursed through him¡ªraw energy, condensed into a tangible form. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. His system chimed in. [Core Grade: Lowest Tier ¨C Gray.] Jisoo¡¯s eyes narrowed. Mana Cores. He had expected them, yet now that he was holding one again, it reminded him of just how valuable they were. In his past life, Mana Cores had quickly become the foundation of the new economy. They served three primary purposes: Jisoo rotated the core in his palm, watching its faint glow flicker. ¡°Gray, huh¡­¡± He muttered, eyes flicking to his interface. There were six known tiers of Mana Cores, ranked by color: This gray core was essentially worthless in the grand scheme of things. But even so, every step counted. He stored the core into his system inventory, a personal space accessible only within the Tower. There was no time to dwell on minor rewards. Jisoo¡¯s boots echoed lightly against the stone floor as he approached the exit of the trial. The archway ahead shimmered, signaling the end of the first combat test. A new prompt appeared before him. [Register Floor Completion?] [YES] ¨C Move forward. [NO] ¨C Reset the floor. Jisoo¡¯s steps slowed. His fingers hovered over the confirmation option. 27 minutes. In his past life, the fastest record for the first floor had been just over 30 minutes. He had cleared it faster than anyone had before. Yet¡­ His grip tightened. It wasn¡¯t enough. This was his second chance. If he wanted to stand above everyone else, if he wanted to ensure that no one could catch up to him, then he couldn¡¯t settle for being slightly ahead¡ªhe had to be untouchable. Jisoo let out a quiet breath, then pressed [NO]. Instantly, the world rippled around him. The Tower¡¯s system adjusted without delay, the dungeon resetting to its original state. The enemies, the ruins, even the air¡ªit was as if nothing had happened. His system let out a soft, amused chuckle. ¡°I didn¡¯t expect less from you. Again.¡± Jisoo smirked. "Then, let¡¯s do this properly." The second run was different. Where before he had moved with careful caution, this time he moved with purpose. His footwork adjusted instinctively, weaving between the goblins with sharper precision. His blade carved through their defenses in fluid arcs, no longer stiff or uncertain. There was no hesitation, no wasted movement. He wasn¡¯t just reacting¡ªhe was controlling the fight. The second goblin barely had time to react before his sword cleaved through its shoulder, severing its momentum before it could even attempt to counter. The creatures were weak, but now he treated them as obstacles to be eliminated, not threats to be respected. Every strike was cleaner, faster. His mind and body were finally in sync. Minutes ticked by, and before he knew it, he was at the exit again. A new time flashed in his interface. [Final Clear Time: 12 minutes.] Jisoo exhaled, a slow grin spreading across his lips. Much better. His system let out a satisfied hum. ¡°Now this¡­ this is the standard you should set.¡± A moment later, he felt it. Not physically, not through sound or sight¡ªbut something unseen was watching him. For a fraction of a second, the Tower¡¯s system hesitated. As if¡­ It hadn¡¯t expected this. Jisoo¡¯s gaze flickered upward toward the vast unseen presence lingering beyond the Tower¡¯s mechanisms. Was it truly just a system? Or was there something more? Whatever it was, he would find out. For now, he had more floors to climb. Jisoo stood at the exit of the first floor, his breathing steady, heart rate barely elevated. Twelve minutes. He had shattered the previous record, but he wasn¡¯t done. The moment he confirmed his completion, the shimmering gateway ahead expanded, allowing him passage to the next floor. However, before stepping forward, he selected the option to hide his identity. He had no intention of letting the world know who he was just yet. With his anonymity secured, he moved ahead without hesitation. The transition was seamless. As the next floor materialized around him, Jisoo found himself in a dimly lit corridor, the walls lined with aged stone and the scent of damp air lingering. This was where his true progression would begin. The second floor¡¯s enemies were slightly stronger¡ªskeletal warriors, their hollow eye sockets flickering with eerie blue light. They wielded rusted weapons, yet moved with surprising precision. Jisoo¡¯s mind immediately filled with details. **[Enemy Identified: Skeletal Warrior] The notes from his past life appeared as a system pop-up, reaffirming what he already knew. This was his advantage. He moved in, weapon gripped firmly. His first strike connected¡ªtoo shallow. The skeleton barely staggered. The lack of flesh made cutting ineffective, just as he had noted. But he had planned for this. Adjusting, he aimed lower. A sharp kick to the knee joint. The skeleton crumbled instantly. Tch. Much better. The battles progressed smoothly, but he was keenly aware of his own flaws. Despite knowing every detail about the Tower¡¯s early floors, executing it perfectly was another challenge entirely. His footwork was still adjusting, his timing not yet instinctive. But he adapted quickly. Faster than anyone else would. Each fight refined his movements. Each opponent further aligned his mind and body, bridging the gap between knowledge and execution. And with Regressor¡¯s Momentum in effect, his XP gains were massive. His first level-up came before he even left the second floor. [Level Up!] A surge of energy pulsed through him, and immediately, he felt the difference. His muscles responded faster, his movements sharper. His reflexes, just slightly, were a step ahead of where they had been minutes ago. This is what power feels like. By the time he reached the third floor, Jisoo¡¯s execution was nearly flawless. The monsters were barely obstacles¡ªhe was cutting through them faster, stronger, more efficiently. Each enemy he faced triggered another system pop-up: [Enemy Identified: Cave Wolf] His past notes served as a guide, ensuring he never made the same mistakes as before. And yet, he wasn¡¯t satisfied. Each floor, each enemy, was another opportunity to refine himself further. His system took note of his relentless drive. ¡°You push beyond expectation. Others would celebrate¡ªyou''re already looking ahead.¡± He wasn¡¯t here to celebrate. He was here to dominate. By the time he reached floor four, his progress had become frighteningly efficient. Every encounter ended in moments. His levels continued rising, his stats reflecting the exponential growth only possible through regression. His agility was sharper, his endurance lasting longer, his perception sharpening every second. Jisoo exhaled as he reached the final staircase leading to the next challenge. His blade was steady, his breath controlled. The next floor would be different. He knew what was coming. A grin ghosted across his lips. It was time for his first real test. Jisoo ascended to the fifth floor, his body vibrating with a mixture of adrenaline and anticipation. Each cleared floor had honed his instincts, refining his combat ability beyond what he had expected in such a short time. The time-based rewards and first-clear bonuses had been at the forefront of his mind since stepping into the Tower. He knew that clearing floors at a record pace would grant him superior rewards, and if there was one thing he refused to do, it was settle for mediocrity. His breath steadied as he stepped forward, the entrance sealing behind him. [Welcome to Floor 5 ¨C Escape Trial Initiated] A rush of wind swept through the dimly lit corridor ahead. Unlike the previous floors, which had followed a standard clear-and-advance format, this one was different. Jisoo¡¯s eyes flickered toward the objective displayed before him. [Objective: Reach the exit before the Guardian catches you.] He exhaled sharply. He remembered this floor well. One of the most deceptively difficult early trials in the Tower. Most players in his past life had assumed it was a simple endurance run. The idea was straightforward: a monstrous beast would awaken the moment challengers stepped forward, and they had to reach the other side of the floor before it caught them. But that was the problem. People underestimated just how fast the Guardian was. It wasn¡¯t some slow-moving brute that bellowed and stomped around mindlessly. It was a hunter. It was built for the chase. Many had died here. Even seasoned players had fallen victim to its deceptive speed, dragged screaming into the darkness before they ever reached the exit. Jisoo tightened his grip on his weapon. He knew the safest route. If he followed his past knowledge, he could weave through the broken corridors, keep his stamina balanced, and push forward in bursts at just the right moments to avoid its pursuit. His legs tensed, ready to spring the moment the trial started. He knew what was coming. Then¡ªhesitation. A memory surfaced. Something only uncovered much later in his past life. The hidden objective. Very few had discovered it, and even fewer had ever claimed the reward. Most who attempted it had died. [Hidden Objective: Eliminate the Guardian before reaching the exit.] It was absurd. No one at this stage was supposed to be strong enough to do it. This wasn¡¯t just a chase; it was a fight against a monster that even veteran Awakened had struggled to face. His instincts screamed at him to run, to clear the trial the way everyone else had, to take the safe path. But Jisoo had never intended to follow the path of the weak. He exhaled, his fingers loosening, then tightening around his weapon. His heart pounded¡ªnot from fear, but from anticipation. The Guardian would chase him the moment he moved. That much was inevitable. But instead of running, he would turn and face it. A smirk ghosted across his lips. ¡°Let¡¯s see if I¡¯m really not supposed to win this fight.¡± The moment his foot moved, the world reacted. The ground trembled¡ªnot a distant quake, but something alive, responding to his presence. From the abyss, a guttural growl reverberated through the air. Heavy, unhurried footsteps followed. A presence too big for the darkness it hid within. Then, it moved. The chase had begun. Chapter 8: Hunted, Yet Hunter Chapter 8: Hunted, Yet Hunter The moment Jisoo moved, the Guardian reacted. A guttural growl reverberated through the air, deep and primal. It was the kind of sound that didn¡¯t just echo¡ªit crawled beneath the skin, triggering instincts long buried by civilization. The sheer weight of its presence sent a shiver down Jisoo¡¯s spine, and for the first time in this new life, he felt it. The raw, crushing intent of a predator. From the abyss beyond the corridor, something unfathomably large stirred. It was not a simple emergence, but a shifting of the entire atmosphere¡ªas if the very space around it resisted its presence. A towering, hulking form materialized, its movements slow, deliberate. Not out of hesitation, but out of confidence¡ªlike a predator that had cornered its prey and was savoring the inevitable. Then, in a heartbeat, it moved. Not stomped. Not lumbered. Moved. Jisoo barely had time to process it before the Guardian closed half the distance in an instant. Its massive, clawed feet crashed against the stone floor, sending cracks through the ancient structure. It wasn¡¯t just fast¡ªit was unnervingly precise, its predatory gaze locked onto him like a beast that had hunted thousands before. His system chimed in. [Hunt Initiated ¨C The Guardian has locked onto you.] But unlike other systems that would warn him to flee, his system adjusted to his intent. ¡°Ah, so we¡¯re fighting instead? Very well. Let¡¯s see if you can keep up.¡± Jisoo gritted his teeth. No hesitation. This was what he wanted. He dashed sideways, using the scattered ruins as cover. The Guardian¡¯s pursuit didn¡¯t slow in the slightest. It was testing him¡ªnot charging recklessly, but adapting, cutting off his angles, forcing him into an inevitable confrontation. Jisoo kicked off the ground, flipping over a broken pillar just as a massive clawed hand tore through the air where he¡¯d been moments ago. The sheer force alone sent a violent gust forward, toppling loose rubble. That¡¯s way faster than I remember. He had known this trial was deceptive. He had known that most players had underestimated the Guardian¡¯s speed and paid the price. But knowing wasn¡¯t the same as experiencing it firsthand. His feet barely touched the ground before the Guardian was already moving again. The next attack wasn¡¯t a wild swipe¡ªit was a calculated maneuver. It learned. Jisoo barely twisted his body in time as a massive, clawed arm swept across the battlefield, aiming to slam him into the corridor wall. He ducked, the wind pressure nearly sending him off balance. No wasted movements. It¡¯s optimizing its approach. His system reacted with amusement. ¡°You do realize you¡¯re the prey here, right?¡± Jisoo ignored it, mind racing. He couldn¡¯t afford to play by the Guardian¡¯s rules. If he kept reacting, if he stayed on the defensive, he would be cornered. And cornered prey never survived. He pivoted sharply, his body twisting mid-motion. With a precise grip, he slashed his blade upward¡ª The first attack. His weapon connected. The blade bit into the Guardian¡¯s thick, sinewy hide¡ª And barely left a scratch. Jisoo¡¯s stomach twisted. The Guardian didn¡¯t even flinch. Then, it retaliated. A backhanded strike, almost casual. But Jisoo was too close, too exposed. Too slow. Pain erupted across his ribs as he was sent flying. The impact rattled his bones, the air in his lungs forced out as he crashed into a crumbling stone column. The world spun violently as debris rained around him. His vision flickered. Shit¡ª Before he could even process the damage, the system¡¯s voice cut through his disoriented thoughts. ¡°Seems like someone¡¯s getting too cocky.¡± For a brief second, something cold curled in his chest¡ªdoubt. Not the calculated fear of battle, but the deeper, more instinctive kind. The kind that whispered, What if I can¡¯t win this? He had never considered failure before. Now, with his ribs aching and the Guardian looming over him, the thought clawed at the edges of his mind. His breath came ragged, his mind sharpening past the pain. This wasn¡¯t just a challenge¡ªit was a brutal reminder. Just because he knew what to do didn¡¯t mean it would be easy. The Guardian gave him no time to recover. It lunged again, its massive form blurring with unnatural speed. Jisoo forced his body to move. He rolled just in time to avoid being flattened under its weight, the ground shattering upon impact. He needed a new strategy. He needed something. His system, ever the opportunist, chimed in again. ¡°What¡¯s wrong? I thought you wanted a fight?¡± Jisoo wiped the blood from his mouth, grinning despite himself. ¡°I do.¡± He pushed forward. This wasn¡¯t just about strength. He had known that before, but now he felt it. This wasn¡¯t about overpowering the Guardian¡ªit was about outlasting it. His body was struggling. His stats were good, but not invincible. But his mind? His experience? That was the only real weapon he had. He adjusted his stance, gripping his weapon tighter. If brute force wouldn¡¯t work, then he¡¯d have to find another way. The Guardian roared, charging again. Jisoo exhaled. And this time¡ª He didn¡¯t dodge. He moved with it. Jisoo staggered, his breath ragged as he pressed a hand against the fresh wound on his side. His fingers came away slick with blood. Not deep enough to be fatal, but enough to send a sharp warning through his nerves. The Guardian loomed before him, its towering frame casting a monstrous shadow under the dim glow of the Tower¡¯s ambient light. The system¡¯s voice chimed in, far too amused for his liking. ["Seems like someone is getting too cocky."] Jisoo clenched his jaw, forcing himself to straighten. "Not now," he muttered, gripping his weapon tighter. His body ached, muscles burning from the relentless onslaught. He had expected this to be difficult, but expectation and experience were entirely different beasts. The Guardian wasted no time. Its massive clawed hand slammed into the ground where he had just stood, sending cracks through the stone. The impact alone would have pulped an unprepared opponent. Jisoo barely managed to evade, rolling to the side, but the sudden movement made his vision blur for a second. His stamina was depleting fast. He had been fighting for what felt like an eternity, but the boss was still as relentless as ever. The system, ever the commentator, piped up again. ["Just because you know how to kill something doesn¡¯t mean you¡¯re strong enough to do it easily."] Jisoo let out a rough exhale. "Yeah, I¡¯m getting that now." This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. His mind raced, calculating his next move. Running was still an option. He had already overperformed by surviving this long. But that hidden achievement dangled in his mind, an irresistible challenge. He wasn¡¯t about to walk away empty-handed. The Guardian lunged again. Jisoo twisted his body, ducking under its wild swipe, but his footing slipped on the uneven stone. His body reacted on instinct, twisting mid-air to avoid a direct impact. Still, the Guardian¡¯s tail clipped him, sending him skidding across the ground. His back hit a broken pillar with a force that rattled his bones. A groan escaped his lips, but he forced himself up. If he stayed down, he was dead. The system remained eerily silent now, as if waiting to see what he¡¯d do next. Jisoo inhaled sharply, steadying his shaking limbs. His earlier strategy of outpacing the beast wasn¡¯t working. He needed a new plan, one that involved more than just dodging and hoping to land a lucky strike. He eyed the environment. The ruins provided some cover, but not much. The Guardian was massive, but not slow. He needed a way to turn its strength against it. His grip on his weapon tightened. If he couldn¡¯t overpower it, he would have to outthink it. As the Guardian prepared for another charge, Jisoo darted toward one of the larger fallen structures, positioning himself so that the beast would have to maneuver awkwardly to reach him. The moment it lunged, he shifted to the side at the last second. The Guardian crashed into the stone, momentarily stunned by the impact. Jisoo didn¡¯t waste a second. He surged forward, blade flashing as he drove it into the exposed gap between its plated ribs. The creature howled, a deep, guttural sound that vibrated through the air. ["Finally thinking, are we?"] Jisoo ignored the system, pressing his advantage. He twisted the blade before yanking it free, dark ichor spraying across his arm. But before he could pull back, the Guardian retaliated, its massive arm slamming into him with enough force to send him flying once again. He hit the ground hard, coughing violently as pain flared through his ribs. His vision blurred for a moment, but he forced himself to move, rolling to his feet just as the beast advanced again. His stamina was running low. He couldn¡¯t keep up this pace for much longer. If he wanted to finish this, he needed to act now. He took a deep breath, eyes locking onto the Guardian¡¯s movements. He had one shot at this. Waiting for the perfect moment, Jisoo stood his ground, feigning exhaustion. The Guardian, sensing weakness, lunged at full force. At the last possible second, Jisoo sidestepped, spinning his body and driving his blade straight into the creature¡¯s exposed neck. The Guardian choked¡ªa wet, guttural sound as its own weight betrayed it. Its claws scraped desperately against the stone, carving deep trenches in the ground as it lurched forward. But there was no stopping the inevitable. The moment Jisoo twisted his blade, a shudder rippled through the beast¡¯s frame. A final, deafening roar shattered the silence before it collapsed, sending a plume of dust spiraling into the air. And then¡ªstillness. Silence. Then, the system¡¯s voice broke it. ["Huh. You actually pulled it off. Color me surprised."] Jisoo let out a shaky breath, barely believing it himself. His body screamed in protest, but he remained standing, watching as the Guardian¡¯s body dissolved into glowing particles, leaving behind a shimmering reward. He had done it. But as he stood there, catching his breath, he couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning. Jisoo¡¯s breath came in ragged, uneven bursts as he stood over the remains of the Guardian. The metallic tang of blood mixed with the damp, stale air, the ground beneath him littered with fragments of stone and flesh. His arms felt like lead, his muscles screaming with exhaustion. Yet, beneath all the fatigue, all the pain¡ªthere was exhilaration. The system chimed¡ªits presence always unnervingly calm, as if it had expected this outcome all along. [Congratulations. You have cleared Floor 5 under impossible conditions.] [Hidden Objective Completed ¨C The Hunter Becomes the Hunted.] Jisoo¡¯s legs wobbled before he forced himself upright. He didn¡¯t need the system to tell him how absurd this was. No one was supposed to kill the Guardian at this stage. No one in his past life had done it. The sheer idea of fighting instead of running was so counterintuitive that challengers simply never considered it. But he had. And he had won. Despite himself, he chuckled breathlessly. Fighting the boss was actually faster than escaping. That was the most ridiculous part of it all. Normally, weaving through the labyrinthine corridors and avoiding the Guardian took an average of thirty to forty minutes, depending on how well someone managed their stamina. The Guardian¡¯s speed forced people into detours, backtracking, moments of hiding in the shadows to avoid detection. Jisoo had cleared it in six minutes. By killing it outright. [New Record: Fastest Completion of Floor 5.] He would register this clear. That wasn¡¯t necessarily a problem¡ªmany climbers had beaten challenges faster than others. But no one would expect a first-time Awakener to accomplish such a fast time this early on. A dull ache throbbed through his limbs as he registered the clear. His hands trembled slightly, muscles burning from the relentless exertion. Every deep breath came with a slight sting¡ªa reminder that no matter how much knowledge he had, his body wasn¡¯t invincible. Not yet. He forced himself upright, rolling his shoulders as if shaking off the weight of the battle. No time to show weakness. Not even to himself. The system, seemingly unimpressed by his accomplishment, gave an almost casual remark. [¡°Not bad. Risky, reckless, and entirely unnecessary¡ªbut not bad.¡±] Jisoo wiped the sweat off his forehead, grinning despite himself. ¡°You almost sound worried.¡± [¡°Just amused. You¡¯re speeding ahead, but let¡¯s see how long you can keep it up.¡±] A faint pulse of light caught his attention¡ªhis rewards. The Guardian¡¯s body, now dissolving into shimmering embers, left behind a collection of glowing items hovering in midair. He reached out, fingers brushing against the floating orbs. A golden shimmer flickered before him, the air vibrating as rewards materialized one by one. First, the notification appeared: [Rewards Acquired:] ? Crimson-Tier Mana Core ¨C A rare and powerful energy source. Unheard of at this stage. ? Passive Skill: Predator¡¯s Tenacity ¨C Increases stamina recovery and pain resistance in prolonged combat. ? ??? (Unidentified Item) ¨C A sealed object that requires further analysis. Jisoo¡¯s eyes widened slightly. Crimson-tier. Not Green. Not Purple. Not even Gold. Crimson. Something so rare that veterans killed for a single one¡ªand he had it on Floor 5. His fingers hovered over the glowing core for a second longer than necessary, a cold realization settling in. He wasn¡¯t just ahead. He was breaking the very balance of progression. As he pocketed the core into his Tower inventory, he rolled his shoulders, trying to gauge the extent of his injuries. His ribs ached, his left arm was sluggish, and his stamina was dangerously low. The Predator¡¯s Tenacity skill was a welcome reward¡ªit would help shave down recovery times and allow him to keep pushing forward. The mystery item, however, was another story. It was small, wrapped in a translucent veil of shifting light. Unlike other loot, the system provided no immediate description. That in itself was rare. Jisoo frowned but knew better than to dwell on it now. He secured it within his inventory, deciding he¡¯d inspect it later. The exit portal materialized before him, shimmering with that familiar golden hue. Once he stepped through, he¡¯d be back at the Tower Hub. His system chimed one last time before he left. [¡°Try not to bleed all over the place when you collapse.¡±] Jisoo snorted. ¡°You¡¯re acting like I¡ª¡± The moment he stepped into the light, his body gave out. The scent of aged stone and cold, recycled air filled his senses as he reappeared at the Hub. The Tower¡¯s central space was eerily quiet, its structures looming in shadow, waiting for climbers to push further into its depths. Most Awakeners hadn¡¯t even attempted their first trials yet¡ªJisoo was already breaking records. His legs nearly buckled the moment he fully materialized. He leaned against a pillar, sucking in a slow breath. He wasn¡¯t in immediate danger anymore, but his body was still struggling to keep up with the demands he had placed on it. His system flickered to life. [¡°You finally noticing the consequences of your pace?¡±] Jisoo exhaled sharply. ¡°Tch. I¡¯ll live.¡± [¡°For now.¡±] With effort, he opened his status window, scanning over the rapid progression he had made. His levels had surged, and his stat distribution was far beyond what was normal for a first-time Awakener. But that only made one thing clear¡ªhis body was barely keeping up. I¡¯m improving faster than my foundation can support. Pushing forward recklessly was unsustainable. Even with skills that boosted recovery, his body needed time to adjust. His eyes flicked toward the stairway leading to the next floor. For the first time since entering the Tower, he didn¡¯t move toward it immediately. His system didn¡¯t taunt him for hesitating. Instead, it simply hummed in satisfaction. [¡°Smart. Even a monster needs rest.¡±] Jisoo closed the interface with a sigh, forcing himself to move. The smart choice was obvious. For now¡ªhe needed to get back. The air shifted. The weight of the Tower lifted, and the silence of reality pressed in. The difference was stark. Inside the Tower, he had fought for his life. Outside, the world was still catching up. People were celebrating their first kills, struggling to understand their powers, while he had already stepped past what most wouldn¡¯t even consider possible for weeks¡ªif ever. He exhaled as he reached his room, feeling the adrenaline drain from his system. His body ached, exhaustion gnawing at the edges of his mind, but his thoughts raced. He was ahead. But was it enough? His fingers curled into a fist as he settled onto the bed, his mind already planning the next step. Jisoo collapsed onto his bed, exhaling deeply. The familiar scent of his room¡ªthe faint musk of books, the lingering trace of old incense¡ªfelt grounding. For hours, he had existed only in the Tower. Now, reality was creeping back in. His body was still wrecked. The battle had left him sore to the bone, his muscles screaming for rest. But his mind was racing. The Crimson Mana Core, the hidden achievement, the strange system prompt¡­ The Tower had noticed him. No one was supposed to do what he had just done. No one was supposed to be this ahead of the curve. His instincts told him this wasn¡¯t just about beating the Tower quickly. There was something more at play¡ªsomething the system hadn¡¯t accounted for. His very existence in this timeline was an anomaly. His system spoke, quieter this time. [¡°You¡¯re making waves.¡±] Jisoo ran a hand over his face, his fingers tracing the edges of a bruise that was already fading. The battle, the blood, the impossibility of what he had done¡ªit all felt distant now, slipping away as exhaustion took hold. He had done it. He had survived. And yet, as he lay in his room, staring at the ceiling, a strange thought crept into his mind. There was no one else ahead of him. No footsteps to follow. No guides. No rivals. Just him and the quiet hum of a system that seemed far too aware. A system that was changing alongside him. He exhaled slowly. Being first... meant being alone. For now, he would sleep. But tomorrow¡ªhe would push even further. Chapter 9: Unshaken Resolve Chapter 9: Unshaken Resolve The city felt different. Not just changed¡ªbut warped. Jisoo stepped outside, hands in his pockets, eyes sweeping across the morning streets. It had been two days since the Awakening, and already, the cracks were forming. Trash lined the sidewalks. More than usual. Abandoned cars clogged intersections, some with shattered windows, their alarms long since silenced. Some storefronts had been broken into, metal shutters pried open, shelves ransacked. It wasn¡¯t every store, nor was the city completely lawless, but the shift was undeniable. The crime rate had spiked overnight. It had been the same in his past life. In the immediate aftermath of the Awakening, law enforcement had struggled to keep order. Some people had woken up with power and thought that meant they could do whatever they wanted. Robberies, assaults¡ªeven makeshift cults had begun forming in the chaos. However, countermeasures had been developed quickly, and within weeks, stability had returned. This level of lawlessness wouldn¡¯t last long. And the sirens. They had barely stopped since last night. Law enforcement was scrambling to keep control, but their authority was already slipping. The police and government were still trying to figure out what Awakening meant, how to classify abilities, how to enforce laws when some people had powers that could tear through metal or vanish into thin air. Jisoo had expected this. It was inevitable. Give people power without rules, and they¡¯d make their own. But he knew the chaos wouldn¡¯t last. The world was still adjusting. The strong would rise, and the weak would be swallowed whole. Systems would be put in place, factions would form, and order would return¡ªbut right now? Right now, everything was raw, unshaped. The perfect time to move. Jisoo stretched his shoulders, rolling out the stiffness in his muscles. His body still ached from the relentless pace he had set over the past two days. In two days, he had cleared nine floors. Floor 6 had been easy. Floor 7 had been¡­ manageable. Floor 8 had pushed him. Floor 9 had been a lesson in endurance. Each floor had forced him to adapt. His movements were sharper, his stamina more refined, his instincts honed. He had faced new enemies, learned their patterns, and exploited their weaknesses. His notebook had saved him more times than he could count¡ªallowing him to predict attacks, adjust strategies, and maneuver with precision. But Floor 10 was different. It was the first true wall. For most climbers, Floor 10 was where reality set in. The first boss fight. The first time challengers realized that the Tower wasn¡¯t just a trial¡ªit was a battlefield. Weakness wasn¡¯t an option. If you weren¡¯t prepared, you died. Jisoo wouldn¡¯t hesitate. Not after everything he had already been through. Before anything else, there was one final thing to confirm. Jisoo made his way toward a convenience store, his pace unhurried despite the tension in the air. He walked past a man arguing with a shopkeeper, demanding something for free. "Can you keep it down?" Jisoo said, his voice calm but firm. The man turned, irritation flashing across his face. "What did you just say to me?" He took a step forward, clearly ready to escalate. But then, Jisoo met his gaze¡ªcold, sharp, utterly devoid of fear. For a split second, the air between them grew heavy. The man hesitated, his throat bobbing as if he suddenly realized he was standing in front of something he didn¡¯t quite understand. His bravado wavered. "Tch." He clicked his tongue, stepping back. "I won¡¯t forget this," he muttered before slinking away. Jisoo watched him go before stepping inside the small, dimly lit store. The stale scent of instant noodles and cheap cigarettes clung to the air, mixing with the hum of an overhead television mounted in the corner. The screen flickered, displaying today¡¯s lottery results. He already knew the numbers. But seeing them displayed made it real. ¡°The grand prize, totaling over 6.3 billion KRW, remains unclaimed as of this morning¡ª¡± Jisoo exhaled slowly. It worked. It actually worked. A surge of relief settled in his chest, tempered only by the reality of what this meant. Financial security. That was the first step toward stability. Toward ensuring his mother and Nari would be safe, no matter what came next. The weight that had lingered on his shoulders for so long finally felt¡­ lighter. But there was one rule. No one could know. Not his mother. Not Nari. And especially not his father. If that bastard caught wind of this¡­ he would never let go. Jisoo clenched his jaw, slipping his hands into his pockets before leaving the store. He needed to claim the prize immediately¡ªbefore anything unexpected happened. The walk to the lottery headquarters was uneventful, but his mind was running through contingencies. He couldn¡¯t just walk in and claim the prize like a fool. Walking out with billions of won in his name was a death sentence. Before stepping inside, he stopped at a small, run-down shop and bought a plain cap, a mask, and a cheap jacket. Not enough to stand out¡ªjust enough to blend in. He pulled the cap low over his eyes, ensuring his face was as unremarkable as possible. When he finally entered the lottery building, he kept his head down, his movements calm but purposeful. The receptionist barely glanced at him as he approached the counter, sliding the ticket forward. A soft beep. A flicker of recognition on the clerk¡¯s face. Then¡ª A pause. A sharp inhale. The clerk¡¯s eyes flickered toward him, then back to the screen. ¡°¡­I assume you wish to claim this anonymously?¡± Jisoo nodded. ¡°Yes.¡± The clerk hesitated, then motioned for someone in the back. A security officer emerged, leading him through a separate entrance. A private room. No cameras. Just a desk, a few forms, and a contract. Jisoo read everything carefully before signing. Less than an hour later¡ª The money was his. But no one would know his name. The funds would be dispersed gradually, avoiding suspicion. A secondary account had been created, separate from his usual one. The prize had been claimed under a shell identity. Layers of protection. It wasn¡¯t perfect, but it was the best he could do without drawing attention. This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. He stepped out of the building, the morning sun casting long shadows against the pavement. Now, he was no longer just surviving. Now, he had power. By the time he left the lottery office, a system notification appeared. [Auction Listings ¨C Your items have sold!] Jisoo checked the numbers. Ridiculous. The items he had dumped onto the Tower¡¯s Auction Board had been bought up almost immediately. A few pieces of basic gear from Floors 6-9, some mana potions, a handful of crafting materials¡ªtrash to him, gold to everyone else, at least at the early stages. His system displayed the earnings. [Total Profit: 21,300,000 KRW] For a normal person, that was an absurd amount. For Jisoo? Pocket change. But this was just the beginning. The real market manipulation would come later. For now, he let the numbers settle in. With both his real-world and Tower finances secured, there was only one thing left. Jisoo stepped back into his room, locking the door behind him. [Tower of Trials ¨C Floor 10 Available.] Time to prove it. Jisoo sat on the edge of his bed, rolling his shoulders as he exhaled deeply. The weight of the day ahead loomed over him, but his mind was sharp, focused. It had been an exhausting morning already¡ªclaiming his lottery prize while keeping a low profile, ensuring no loose ends remained. Now, with that matter settled, he could finally turn his attention to what truly mattered: Floor 10. "Mom!" His blood ran cold. Instinct kicked in before thought, his body moving on its own as he bolted from his room, barely registering the sound of his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. He found them in the kitchen. His mother lay slumped against the counter, her body limp, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps. Nari was at her side, hands gripping her shoulders, trying to keep her steady. "Mom! Wake up!" Nari pleaded, voice trembling. "Jisoo, help me!" Jisoo was already there, kneeling beside their mother, carefully supporting her weight. She was burning up. He could feel the heat radiating off her skin, the sweat beading along her forehead. She stirred slightly, blinking sluggishly up at them. "I''m... okay," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "Just a little dizzy." "This isn¡¯t normal!" Nari snapped, panic flashing in her eyes. "We need to call a doctor¡ª" "No," Jisoo said firmly. Nari whipped her head toward him, disbelief written all over her face. "Are you serious? Jisoo, she nearly collapsed! She needs help!" Jisoo met her gaze, steady and unwavering. He had known this was coming, but seeing it unfold again still made his stomach churn. He had spent his past life watching helplessly as their mother¡¯s condition worsened. No doctor had ever found an explanation. No medicine had ever worked. The Awakening had triggered something in people. Some grew stronger. Some developed abilities. And some¡ªlike their mother¡ªgrew weaker, as if something unseen was draining the life from them. "Nari," he said, his voice calm but firm. "I know this looks bad, but listen to me. This isn¡¯t something a doctor can fix." "How the hell would you know that?" Nari snapped, her voice cracking. "She nearly collapsed, Jisoo! We can¡¯t just do nothing¡ª" "I¡¯m not doing nothing," he cut in, his gaze steady. "I¡¯ll take care of it. But you need to trust me." "I¡¯ll try my best to take care of it. Trust me," Jisoo cut in, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Can you do me a favor and stay by Mom¡¯s side as much as you can this week?" Nari hesitated, her frustration warring with uncertainty. His certainty should have reassured her, but instead, it just confused her more. "I don¡¯t get you sometimes," she muttered. "But fine. If you¡¯re wrong, I won¡¯t forgive you." Jisoo exhaled softly. "Deal." Their mother stirred slightly, giving them a tired but warm smile. "You two always bicker like this," she murmured. "I¡¯ll be fine, don¡¯t worry so much." Jisoo knew she was just trying to reassure them, but that only strengthened his resolve. If the Tower held even the smallest clue to a cure, he would find it. He had another task to take care of before that. Jisoo left the apartment and made his way toward Iron Hand¡¯s hideout. It was a small, rundown building, the kind that blended into the decaying outskirts of the city. The kind of place most people would rather avoid. The moment he stepped inside, he felt the shift in atmosphere. A couple of men sat around, playing cards, smoking, chatting in low voices. The scent of cheap alcohol and cigarettes lingered in the air. One of them, a man with a thick scar down his cheek, glanced up. "You¡¯re early. The next payment ain''t due yet." Jisoo reached into his jacket and pulled out an envelope, dropping it onto the counter. "Full payment. Plus interest." Hyeonjoon raised an eyebrow before flipping through the bills, whistling low. "Didn¡¯t expect you to actually pay it all off. Your old man sure as hell never did." Jisoo didn¡¯t react. He turned to leave, but another voice stopped him. "Hold up." One of the lower-ranked members¡ªsomeone Jisoo recognized from past encounters¡ªwas eyeing him with suspicion. "Where''d you get the money?" Jisoo paused, turning his gaze toward the man. "Not your business." The man smirked, but his eyes were sharp. "Come on, kid. You don¡¯t just pull that kind of cash out of nowhere. Unless you¡¯re sitting on a jackpot?" He leaned forward slightly. "Could be useful knowing where you got lucky." Jisoo took a slow step toward him. He didn¡¯t speak, didn¡¯t need to. Instead, his gaze darkened, a silent weight pressing into the air between them. It was subtle, but the shift in his presence was undeniable. Not a glare, not even a threat¡ªa promise. The man¡¯s smirk faltered. He stiffened slightly, as if something deep in his instincts screamed at him to stop talking. Jisoo held the stare for a moment longer before turning away. "We''re done here." The man swallowed, his bravado shaken. As Jisoo stepped out into the morning air, he could still hear the man muttering under his breath. "I won¡¯t forget this." Jisoo didn¡¯t care. One less problem to deal with. Returning home, Jisoo stepped inside quietly, checking on his mother. She was resting, Nari sitting by her side, watching her carefully. When Nari noticed him, she only gave a small nod. She was still wary, but at least she wasn¡¯t arguing anymore. "She¡¯s asleep," Nari murmured. "You sure you know what you¡¯re doing?" Jisoo met her gaze, unshaken. "Yeah." She studied him for a moment before sighing. "Just... don¡¯t do anything stupid." Jisoo smirked slightly. "No promises." With that, he turned toward his room, his mind already shifting gears. Floor 10. He sat on the edge of his bed, opening his system interface. He had already cleared Floors 6 through 9, but this was where the real challenge began. Most challengers formed parties for this floor. The boss wasn¡¯t just strong¡ªit had a summoning ability. Even the best solo climbers struggled against it. Going in alone was considered suicide. Jisoo wasn¡¯t concerned. He had already mapped out its weaknesses. He knew what mistakes other players had made before¡ªand how to exploit the gaps they missed. His fingers hovered over the Tower interface. Jisoo wasn¡¯t just anyone. He had studied this boss, analyzed its weaknesses, found the one way to counter it without relying on numbers. If he could execute his strategy perfectly, he wouldn¡¯t just clear the floor¡ªhe would dominate it. His fingers hovered over the Tower interface. [Floor 10] The system chimed in. [¡°Nervous? This is barely the start.¡±] Jisoo smirked. He wasn¡¯t nervous. He was ready. "Let¡¯s find out." With a final breath, he stepped in. The world around Jisoo twisted as the familiar weightlessness of the Tower¡¯s transition wrapped around him. The air shifted, the dim glow of the teleportation fading, and when his feet touched solid ground once more, the silence was deafening. Floor 10. The first true wall for most Awakeners. Jisoo exhaled slowly, his gaze adjusting to the dimly lit expanse before him. The chamber was massive¡ªfar larger than the previous floors. Jagged pillars of black stone jutted from the ground like the ribs of some long-dead beast, stretching toward the cavernous ceiling. The walls pulsed faintly with an eerie, greenish glow, cracks in the ancient stone breathing with an unnatural energy. And at the center of it all¡ªthe Warlord of the Forgotten Legion. Jisoo¡¯s grip on his weapon tightened as the figure stirred. A towering figure of iron and decay, the boss sat upon a throne of bones, its skeletal frame wrapped in layers of rusted armor, battle-worn and fractured from wars long past. The helm it wore was cracked, a single, hollow eye socket gleaming with spectral fire. Despite its stillness, the sheer pressure it exuded was suffocating. Then, it moved. A deep, rattling breath escaped from within its broken chest plate. The bones of its fingers curled around the hilt of a massive, jagged greatsword embedded into the ground before it. With deliberate, unhurried ease, the Warlord rose to its feet, the sound of grinding metal and shifting bones echoing through the vast chamber. Jisoo¡¯s heartbeat remained steady. He had been waiting for this. The Warlord stood motionless for a moment, then¡ªits hollow gaze locked onto him. The ghostly embers in its sockets flared, and then, slowly, it raised its free hand. Jisoo knew what was coming. The moment the Warlord''s bony fingers curled into a fist, the ground trembled. Cracks split the stone beneath them, jagged fractures spreading outward in an intricate, almost deliberate pattern. From those cracks, they came. A deep, guttural groan rippled through the chamber as the first of them crawled forth from the abyss. Skeletal warriors, wrapped in decayed remnants of armor, their empty sockets glowing with the same spectral fire as their master. One became two. Two became ten. And it didn¡¯t stop. An army of the dead. Jisoo exhaled, rolling his shoulders as the system chimed softly in his mind. *[Boss Battle Initiated ¨C The Warlord of the Forgotten Legion.] [Survive. Overcome. Conquer.] The Warlord¡¯s hollow sockets burned brighter. Its skeletal jaw unhinged, and from within its decayed throat¡ª A warhorn¡¯s roar erupted. The dead answered. Jisoo smirked. "Let¡¯s dance."*