The Ant Cave and the Flash of Life

The academy entrance preparations were in full swing, but all I could see were cascading rocks and a collapsed escape route. The odds of getting out were exactly zero. I was barely holding back the falling boulders using Velvat's corpse and the spiderwebs I'd prepared in advance, but it was only a matter of time before everything gave way.

Please... please...! I prayed the kids would get as far away from the Ant Cave as possible while I focused entirely on dodging the falling debris. With a corpse balanced on my head, I darted left and right, but the safe space was shrinking fast. Finally, a massive rock smashed straight through Velvat's body and slammed into my skull.

It worked!

A single bed, a vanity, and a full-length mirror. The moment I saw the exact room I'd expected, my legs gave out. I collapsed onto the floor, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠rubbed my dry face a few times, and let out a long, shaky breath of relief.

"I'm alive..."

Everything had gone exactly according to plan. Thank god. Doing it in real life was completely different from playing it in the game.

"Whew... it actually worked."

In Final Destiny, every character gets sent to the character customization screen for a short time after finishing the prologue. The reason is the massive time gap between the prologue and the main story. The prologue usually takes place when the character is seven to ten years old, while the main story—entering the academy—happens at seventeen. That leaves at least ten years of empty time.

Final Destiny solved this gap by letting players customize their character right after clearing the prologue.

"Good thing it's exactly like the game."

The system worked like this: pick your character, clear the tutorial, then customize. It was one of Final Destiny's unique mechanics. I'd used that very system to blow up the Ant Cave.

If I destroyed the cave and helped the kids escape, the prologue would clear. Naturally, that meant I'd be transported here.

It's a shame I lost the Lizard Tail, though.

If that huge boulder hadn't crushed my head at the end, I would've started with an extra life. Still, I was grateful to be alive. I calmly reviewed my rewards once more.

The development ticket is great... the sub-skill ticket is good too, and Flash of Life is a solid hidden skill.

The real prizes weren't the hidden skill, but the [One-time Character Development Ticket] and the [Beginner Sub-Skill Selection Ticket]. These two were the only way to turn the trash character Lee Seokhyun into something remotely usable.

Let's do this right away.

Strike while the iron is hot. I decided to move straight into the main story. It was the only way I could keep ignoring the guilt of having killed people. Just like how staying busy stops you from thinking about anything, I couldn't handle the memories of murder right now.

"Use One-time Character Development Ticket."

The development ticket literally meant developing the character. In this case, it referred to how I'd spend the ten-year gap between the prologue and the main story.

Without this, the character would follow the original story path.

Final Destiny had fixed storylines that every character had to follow. For Lee Seokhyun, that meant wandering the streets after escaping the Ant Cave before eventually enrolling in the academy. It might sound ordinary at first, but it was anything but.

Damn that random element.

Having just escaped the orphanage, wandering the streets would only make his body weaker and more damaged. If I followed the original story, Lee Seokhyun would enter the academy in the absolute worst possible state.

But now...

It's going to be fine.

With the development ticket, I could perfectly set what actions Lee Seokhyun would take and how he'd survive. For example, instead of wandering the streets, I could change his route to training deep in the mountains.

A calendar and a sheet that looked like an elementary school summer vacation timetable appeared. The calendar was for the big picture, while the timetable handled the detailed planning.

Focus entirely on physical training.

A crazy schedule that devoted every second not spent sleeping, eating, or resting to physical conditioning. Food could be handled by foraging for herbs, eating larvae, or hunting animals in the mountains. The reason I could set such a brutal schedule was simple.

During the gap between prologue and main story, the character absolutely cannot die.

I'd confirmed this after testing it with countless characters, not just Lee Seokhyun. Of course, it only prevented sudden accidents or natural death. It didn't mean you could jump into lava and walk out alive. It simply guaranteed a safe daily life.

Next up is the Sub-Skill Selection Ticket.

Sub-skills. In some ways, they were even more important than the main skill.

You can have up to seven sub-skills.

Final Destiny is played with one main skill, seven sub-skills, and one hidden skill—for a total of nine. How you choose and combine your sub-skills completely changes your character's playstyle. You could take a healing main skill and stack all sub-skills on attack to become a damage-tank, or you could pick sub-skills that synergize with your main skill to amplify its power.

But that kind of approach will destroy Lee Seokhyun.

As someone who knew this character inside and out, there was only one viable early-game skill path for this trash random character.

"I choose it."

There was no other option but to focus entirely on strengthening the body. The extreme difficulty of early-game development meant the character died more easily than anyone else. A healthy body was absolutely necessary. Ideally, he'd be the healthiest student upon entering the academy.

That will also raise the chances of passing the entrance exam.

Out of hundreds of characters in Final Destiny, only Lee Seokhyun had a chance of failing the Mirinae Academy entrance test. To explosively increase those paper-thin odds of acceptance, Mind and Body Training was the only way.

I can change the others later, but Mind and Body Training has to stay until the end.

As a growth-type skill, the earlier you acquired Mind and Body Training, the higher its late-game potential became. Training relentlessly in the mountains while holding this skill was the absolute best early-game development route for Lee Seokhyun.

It's impossible to get the hidden skill at this point anyway... so this is all I can do right now.

Building relationships with others? Useless if you die anyway. Working hard to earn money? Pointless if you're dead before you can spend it. The only path that raised the survival rate was training—purely tempering the body.

When I consider the possibility of being sacrificed in the protagonist's place, this is definitely the right choice.

Lee Seokhyun, the character who suffered every misfortune imaginable. I would face all that misfortune head-on and make sure he survived.

I stood in front of the mirror, looked at the message, and nodded.

Once I lay down, time would pass quickly and I'd arrive straight at the academy entrance ceremony. It really was just like the game. I pushed aside my brief thoughts and immediately lay on the bed.

Work hard, Lee Seokhyun.

Make me strong.

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

The entrance plaza was packed with noise.

"Hey, move! Get out of the way!"

"What? Do you even know who I am, talking to me like that?"

"Can't even afford a carriage but acting all high and mighty like a noble. Looks like total trash to me."

"What? Trash? You got a death wish?"

Every year, countless applicants flooded Mirinae Academy in hopes of enrolling. With that many people, friction and fights were inevitable.

"Yeah, trash. If you're gonna act like a noble, at least come in a magic carriage. All you've got is some fake luxury clothes... Pathetic."

"...Take that back right now!"

"Take it back? You're really asking for it... You wanna die?"

The ones fighting were a large commoner and a scrawny-looking noble. The commoner didn't care since social status became equal the moment you entered Mirinae Academy. The noble, knowing this, couldn't assert his authority and could only glare at the commoner.

"Oh? You glaring at me? Want me to smack you?"

"G-go ahead! I dare you!"

Clink. Clang.

They might think they were all grown up, but they were still only seventeen. Ignoring everyone around them, they drew their weapons and threatened each other.

W-what should I do?

Yu Sohyun, who was watching the fight from right beside it, wondered whether she should intervene. Getting involved might get her hurt, but standing by and doing nothing might let someone else get injured.

No, I shouldn't hesitate. I have to stop this.

If other people get dragged in, it'll get worse. And if I run away from something like this, I'll never become a good person.

Repeating that to herself, Sohyun ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠gathered her courage and was about to speak when—

"Fighting. Not good."

A man pushed through the dense crowd and appeared.

What is that smell?

Even though he was ten steps away, the stench was overwhelming. His entire body was covered in thick, unkempt hair that clearly hadn't been cut in years. On top of that, his bulging muscles made him look less like a person and more like a gorilla. His clothes were nothing but tree bark, as if he'd been living deep in the mountains.

"By the way, is this the Mirinae Academy entrance area?"

"U-urghhh—!"

"Y-yeah—bleeeghhh—!"

The moment he spoke, the rotten smell hit them and both fighters started dry-heaving. The man, having received a satisfactory answer amid the chaos, opened his mouth again.

"Does anyone know where the bathhouse is?"

"I-I know!"

Sohyun had been staring at the bizarre scene and unconsciously raised her hand. This was the first meeting between Lee Seokhyun and Yu Sohyun.