Episode 16. I Picked C. (7)

On this night when the number of accepted Players had increased, to put it in Player terms, the game's difficulty was ramping up—and five hours later, the place Aiden returned to wasn't some typical inn that came to mind, but Sephirah's Ajiit.

She had permitted him free access precisely because it was no longer solely her private space.

'Fast Travel.'

However, as the sun set and the air grew chilly, Aiden stepped out alone to begin his patrol.

It wasn't a seriously planned endeavor. This reconnaissance had no set destination or route.

Just block anything that cropped up, and if nothing did, then nothing.

That was the extent of it.

The Snowfield, the default starting point for Players. Nothing there.

The paths he'd traversed so far. He could only give them a quick glance, but nothing suspicious appeared.

Uwa's Cabin, the village where the strange golem was buried, the Abandoned Residence, and even the city of Koun.

Aiden retraced the places he'd visited due to Players, checking various spots, but in the end, nothing happened.

'Nothing's happening yet... or so it seems.'

For someone who'd braced himself for a major incident at any moment, it was anticlimactic—yet immensely reassuring.

'Quiet here too.'

Aiden circled the city once and returned, inwardly relieved. As expected, nothing.

The most populous area nearby would naturally be the city center, so he'd checked around there, but nothing differed from the norm.

He knew that if something huge really hit, Sephirah or anyone else would notice and come running, but the uncertainty of when and where kept Aiden moving.

Suddenly, the UI appeared before his eyes. A day had passed unnoticed, replenishing the Genre change uses that refilled at midnight.

Ever since unlocking the new Genre STEALTH on Sephirah's advice, it had refilled daily. He'd been saving them up on the thought that hoarding was wise, so now it was just an alarm signaling the day's end.

'Not that there are many Genres yet anyway.'

He'd unlocked only two so far. Even that, ROGUE-LIKE, had volatile performance—"maximizes experience efficiency gained in a day"—so it didn't perform fully without deliberate preparation.

To maximize Genre power, he'd need to unlock them indiscriminately first...

He activated the UI to browse ununlocked Genres. Familiar words or acronyms to Players, but their precise meanings eluded him—like staring at a tool with an instruction manual in an unknown language.

'It's not just Genres that need unlocking.'

Systems like Focus or UI required points too. Spending recklessly led to shortages, forcing him to raise "difficulty" himself to replenish.

That's why he'd held back on easy gains from gestures.

But.

"Unlock a new Genre."

Before heading back, Aiden decided ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to tinker with this tool alone. Relying solely on Player advice to unlock powers against Players made no sense.

A faint card shape hovered over his open palm. The ability he'd unlock now would be chosen by gut alone—no advice. It might prove useless or a burden, but it'd become one anomaly in the end.

Points spent: 1. Choice: pure random. No knowing what power it'd yield made the name irrelevant. Familiar word? Utterly alien term? Even gut appeal didn't matter. Just close eyes, pick one.

FPS

An enigmatic acronym incomprehensible to an NPC. Its meaning and the Genre's effect etched into his mind. For now, this unlock would be Aiden's secret alone.

First Person Shooter.

Aiden opened his eyes, grasping a card that solidified with a blue glow. A weapon materialized in his hand.

In Aiden's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠hand was a pitch-black cube, fitting perfectly in his grip—a tiny, nearly invisible hexahedron when clenched.

Did this represent the FPS Genre?

A twitch. Then, an unseen inventory stirred. Against his will, it activated, ejecting a weapon into the air: the javelin from the description.

It hovered briefly before being sucked into the cube on his palm, as if merged.

'So that's what "javelin as default" means.'

With the Genre's power fully in hand, Aiden grasped the situation easily. FPS: summon and reshape ranged weapons freely. His existing summonable ranged weapon, the javelin, merged since duplicates were redundant.

'Switching Genres would revert it.'

After rereading the description several times, Aiden dismissed the UI. Core usage knowledge was imprinted, easing comprehension.

His verdict on this Genre?

"Can't call it lucky."

Ambiguous. Untested, he couldn't vouch for combat utility, but it clearly wasn't suited as a hidden ace.

One UI line caught his eye. Unlike the rambling prior text, it openly advised cooperating with Players.

Flipped: without Player help, it might underperform.

'Picked the wrong one.'

For a fresh unlock, anyway.

"...Change to crossbow."

Regretfully, he named the first ranged weapon that came to mind. The cube stretched like pulled rubber, gradually forming shape.

Matte black intact, body emerged, then string and trigger. From command to completion: an instant.

'Nothing special.'

The crossbow matched expectations: typical look, wooden feel, weight, size. Precisely what a "crossbow" should be—no unknown info fabricated.

"Damn."

Openly disappointed, Aiden hefted it one-handed and fired at a roadside tree. The thin bolt tore bark, gouged deep—damage belying the arrow's trace.

Yet it didn't seem to outshine other Genres.

'...Still, worth testing.'

He'd gauge it once, via scarecrow or imminent combat. Plenty opportunities. But unproven, he couldn't call it reliably useful.

"One more."

Aiden summoned the UI, eyeing new powers.

Unlocks weren't Genre-exclusive. 'Genres' offered situational strategies; 'Systems' were versatile tools, lesser but always handy.

Regret flickered—maybe start with Systems ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠for utility? But...

Aiden scanned System names.

Time, disconnection, heart, pacifism, cryptic acronyms. Players might guess, but meaningless to Aiden. Names unrelated to effects, guesses often wrong—no guarantee "BULLET TIME" involved time.

'First time seeing "Rushed".'

Instead of names, a novel word drew him. Rushed: hastily made, newly distinguishing it. Not planned, added urgently...? What necessitated it?

Intentional or not, it felt like "you need this."

"...Fine. Whatever you want from me, you wouldn't waste my points tricking me."

He'd trust it. The dubious voice and messages always aided Player adaptation anyway.

"System, unlock PACIFIST RUN."

Aiden held his breath reading the description. No drama here—no worldview shift like UI or Focus, no supernatural add like Fast Travel.

Instead, it guaranteed growth.

The "someone" providing Systems and voice seemed to want him stronger.

'Better results without killing...'

Past talk resurfaced. Asked if Players always grew via murder, Sephirah said "slightly different." Was this the difference? Why she praised such "proper endings"?

"...Hm."

Aiden looked skyward. Players resembled sky-dwellers in his mind: from an unseen world, imaginable only.

Their outer forms, lives, communications driving them here—all speculative. But guessing:

"What are they doing now, I wonder."

Beings whose power he now wielded—surely not ordinary folk.