The Age of Adaptation

Back in the Enter Room at last.

He’d rested enough, and he’d safely completed his first objective—the transfer of the Invitation.

Now came the season of growth, of taking safer missions and building up points.

Yoo Sung-jun stepped up to the modification capsule.

He read down the list displayed on the transparent glass.

Physical enhancement was basically built around multiplication.

Once the modification was complete, his physical abilities would effectively double.

But the points it demanded were another matter entirely.

"It jumps hard starting at Level 4 too, huh."

"I still have no idea what basis they’re using."

So this was one of those things that human minds simply weren’t meant to understand.

He shook his head at Loki’s adamant answer.

Still, it was just like the game.

He was talking about the points needed for physical enhancement.

That made it feel a little less alien.

But there was still a faint trace of fear.

"About physical enhancement. It was fine in the game, but are there any side effects if I take it on with my real body?"

The synchronization rate had once been close to 100. His ability to accept and act on his current situation without hesitation, his flexibility, his decisiveness.

Loki was saying all of that meant he shouldn’t worry.

"Yeah. I can’t exactly give up on physical enhancement just because I’m scared I won’t adapt. Let’s do it."

He tapped the capsule.

The front glass opened, and he lay down inside the soft interior.

While he waited, the point total displayed on the glass began to drop.

The reassuring first digit of his point total vanished.

He’d still be dropping all the way down into the hundreds from here, but right now he had to focus on the enhancement.

Fwoosh. White smoke burst from the holes spread across the capsule.

Yoo Sung-jun inhaled it naturally.

His mind began to drift away. Loki’s voice sounded distant.

Yoo Sung-jun sank into a deep sleep.

At the same time, the capsule filled with blue liquid.

The change began immediately.

Crack! Crack-crack!

His muscles swelled, then shrank.

His skeleton and bones twisted and were rebuilt.

The quiet Enter Room was filled with the sound of growth.

◇◇◇◆◇◇◇

When he woke again, he was still in the Enter Room.

So even during the time spent on physical enhancement, the room’s stay timer didn’t change. Just like before.

"How long was I out?"

He’d slept a long time.

He wasn’t hungry, and his body felt so light it was almost like he could fly.

His senses were sharper than before, but there was nothing in the Enter Room to help him distinguish just how much he’d changed.

I’ll have to run a mission or stop by the gym and check it for myself.

That wasn’t the priority right now.

There was something more important he had to do first.

Yoo Sung-jun requested the Primordial Talent Awakening Pill.

Seeing his points reduced to a number in the hundreds made his chest ache.

These were points he’d sweated blood to gather.

I have to think of it as an investment.

Before he knew it, a single pill with a faint violet sheen was resting in his palm.

It looked, by appearance alone, like a piece of candy or maybe poison.

But he knew exactly what kind of power it could grant.

Without hesitation, Yoo Sung-jun tossed it into his mouth.

Gulp.

His Adam’s apple bobbed once.

Then the pill’s effect appeared immediately.

Several talents displayed themselves before his eyes.

It wasn’t a pop-up from Loki’s support.

It was the effect of the pill.

These are my talents.

With a careful expression, he examined them one by one.

[Analysis]

: Discern the target through sight.

[Acceleration]

: Once a day. Speed yourself up through bloodstream manipulation.

[Focus]

: Think faster. The world you perceive slows down.

[Reversal]

: Carry out intended actions in the opposite manner.

[Breathing]

: Accept oxygen beyond the limit and temporarily heighten all physical abilities.

[Understanding]

: Increase a target’s comprehension through contact.

A total of six talents.

This was the product of the development potential that existed within the being called Yoo Sung-jun after physical enhancement.

He stroked his chin and imagined each one in turn.

There were two things he had to focus on: usability and growth potential.

The first that had appeared was [Analysis]. He’d developed that all the way to master level through Meteor.

By looking at something, the target’s information poured in in full detail, and that was how he’d been able to exploit the weakness of Kallakwa, one of the Five Evils.

The problem is that I can’t afford to gamble my life on Analysis alone.

The activation condition was the issue.

That simple word—sight—had gotten him killed more times than he could count.

Most of those deaths had come from trying to read high-level Infector targets he had no business facing.

The same went for Infector opponents of his own level.

Some of them possessed keen senses of their own.

Too bad. I’ll have to pass on Analysis.

If he had several lives to burn, maybe he’d have kept it.

Yoo Sung-jun roughly sorted out the ones he’d exclude.

Analysis, Acceleration, Understanding.

[Understanding] was the same as Analysis in principle. Too dangerous to use.

Acceleration, meanwhile, was dangerous because of what it did to the body.

It temporarily increases the speed of the blood flowing through your body. There’s no way that doesn’t strain the heart. And the heart’s an involuntary muscle—I don’t want any power I can’t fully control.

That left [Focus], [Reversal], and [Breathing].

Focus has great utility. It’ll widen the range of ways I can respond to danger. And as the level goes up, the duration and the slowdown multiplier should improve too.

But he couldn’t ignore the fatigue it placed on the brain.

Overuse would bring on a pounding ache. He might even black out.

No good. In the worst case, he could collapse right in the middle of enemy territory.

Next, he examined [Reversal].

It’s great for feints. I can let the enemy see only the habits I want them to perceive, then profit by making the opposite move in an instant. It doesn’t seem to have any downside, and it’s useful enough, but…

He didn’t see much room for growth.

At most, it seemed to be something like, “break the enemy’s prediction and attack.” But would that really make it better than the other talents?

No.

He cut the thought off sharply and fixed his gaze on the last talent.

It probably increases the amount of oxygen I can take in by improving lung function.

It was useful enough.

Unlike the heart or the brain, it wasn’t an involuntary muscle.

If he could simply control his breathing, he’d be able to accelerate the growth of his body even further.

Of course, if his oxygen intake kept rising constantly, side effects would appear.

His lungs might no longer be able to keep up, or his vision and recovery speed might drop. In severe cases, he could lose consciousness.

But I have the Enter Room.

He had alien medical technology.

As long as he was alive, and as long as he had enough points, treatment was possible.

If he paid attention to the warning signs before those side effects set in, there was no talent better than this.

And in battle, I can push it harder than usual to amplify its effect.

As the level rose, the margin would only increase.

It satisfied both usability and growth potential nicely.

Yoo Sung-jun smiled faintly.

"Alright, I’ve decided."

"Yeah. It’s the best one out of the bunch."

The choice was made by focusing his consciousness.

The moment he decided on Breathing, the window before his eyes scattered apart.

Then a headache struck.

"Tch!"

"You don’t need to tell me… ngh! I was planning to."

He’d made up his mind, but he hadn’t expected it to be this bad.

It felt like needles were being shoved into the innermost parts of his brain—places even his hands couldn’t reach.

The pain was severe. Not mild at all.

He clenched his fist hard enough to try to split it apart, hoping to distract himself even a little.

His nails dug into his palm. Blood seeped from his bitten lip.

Within minutes, Yoo Sung-jun’s body was covered in self-inflicted scars.

Fortunately, by then the headache vanished as suddenly as melting snow.

"Mm…"

What replaced the pain was an unfamiliar yet strangely familiar sensation.

As he focused on it, words surfaced.

It was a talent he would have to train and raise for the rest of his life.

But it had already settled into him as though he’d always been familiar with it, making it easy to use.

"Sss… hoo…"

Humans breathe about 23,000 times a day.

From the moment they are born until the moment they die.

Breathing, the act performed in order to live, was something nearly everyone possessed.

I can feel it.

A body rising and sharpening with each breath.

The pain faded beneath a sense of mental fulfillment and quiet joy.

Crack. He clenched his fist again, and a feeling of brute force coiled through it.

He needed to check this transformed body at once.

He had to measure it objectively and learn how to control it smoothly.

That was how he prevented problems when the next mission came.

◇◇◇◆◇◇◇

"Huh!"

Clang!

With a metallic crash, the bar settled back onto the rack.

A new record.

He could now hit a 400-kilo squat.

And yet he didn’t feel especially pleased. It was because of the news he’d watched earlier that day.

Gun terror attacks, knife rampages… ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Korea’s ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠gone to hell too.

These days, you couldn’t even walk the streets at night without concern.

The reputation of one of the world’s safest countries had fallen apart.

Well, the situation was probably similar everywhere else too.

At least I’m glad I’ve been working out hard. If some bastard attacks me, I should at least be able to fight back or run.

He was wiping the sweat from his face when—

"Hyung, do you see that guy?"

It was his younger gym buddy, the one who helped spot and support him while they trained together, speaking with a half-brotherly familiarity.

He followed the direction of the finger.

And the moment he saw it, a helpless laugh escaped him.

Not because it was funny—because it was absurd.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"I get that he’s trying to squat, but what’s the total load on that thing?"

"Feels like 200 kilos? Wow, he’s going for a weight I still haven’t hit. Anyway, that’s impressive."

"Let’s just watch for now. He looks about 180 centimeters tall, and maybe over 80 kilos, but, huh?"

The man had no choice but to be surprised.

It already looked excessive, but then he added more plates.

Instead, the younger one mumbled in a trembling voice.

"3, 330… Is that even possible for a build like that?"

"No way. He might just be putting on a show. Let’s keep watching, and if it looks dangerous, we’ll help him."

That was the duty of a true gym rat.

The words had barely left the man’s mouth before the stranger settled into his squat stance.

And not everyone reacted with that same gentlemanly patience.

There were plenty who smirked or simply ignored him.

But the man carried on as if he couldn’t hear any of it.

He drew in a deep breath and began the squat.

"Oh."

"Whoa… he actually did it."

Just once, but that was enough to mean success.

The people who had mocked and dismissed him because of his apparently impossible build widened their eyes in surprise.

That alone was impressive enough.

But—

"Huh?"

"Again? He’s doing it again?"

The man, Yoo Sung-jun, didn’t stop at one squat.

As if mocking the people who had looked down on him in return, he repeated it twice, then three times.

And in the end, he completed five and stopped.

One breath each time.

The awakened talent Breathing had pushed him beyond what even Level 1 physical enhancement should have allowed.

Smiling at that quiet satisfaction, he noticed several presences through his sharpened senses.

It was the same guy who’d been mocking him nearby.

The one who had assumed he wouldn’t hear, and had just been calling him a weight junkie, saying he’d only learn his lesson once his knees were ruined.

"Um… how do you lift that much weight so well?"

At that polite question, uttered with a face that might as well have been wearing a mask, Yoo Sung-jun gave a faint snort.

"Even if I told you how, you couldn’t do it."

He had nothing else to say to the guy.

He’d learned that his body control worked smoothly, and that his talent could be adjusted with ease.

Time was too precious to waste here any longer.

Since he’d slept deeply during the physical enhancement, his body was still in perfect condition.

Ignoring the gazes that had started to gather around him, Yoo Sung-jun headed home.

He felt like he could handle missions up to E+ rank without any trouble.