The Threshold Before Nascent Soul

"Status Window!"

I dumped every last remaining stat point into Mind, pushing it all the way to the cap, then topped off Resistance before shutting the Status Window for good.

There wasn't going to be much reason to open it again until I formed my Nascent Soul anyway. Once I stacked about a hundred more points into Resistance, every single stat would be sitting at its hard limit.

And once I hit those caps, all I'd need were the consumables and materials for a true breakthrough!

It would've been nice if the quest log just listed that stuff for me. The convenience on this thing was seriously lacking.

Then again, if it had, I probably would've ground myself into the dirt hunting materials and consumables — and Elder Togo's method of brewing special pills tailored for the giant race might never have been an option.

For the record, he'd told me earlier that most of the ingredients didn't exist in the lower realm, so crafting them would be impossible. But after I cleaned out a hidden dungeon, nearly every key material turned up.

Elder Togo had said it was fortunate that so many substitutes were available. Me? I'd just been grabbing every material item too high-grade to throw away, sorted by rarity. I hadn't given it a second thought!

And I hadn't even been the one sorting them — that was all the Humanity Clones.

"Alright. I'll run the map a bit, finish maxing my stats, then head back to base."

I still needed roughly 156 points to push Resistance to the ceiling. But with the other two stats already capped, every random permanent stat-boost event would dump straight into remaining points. Two or three months, tops, and I'd be done.

"I already got hit with ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a triple-stack eok-kka event. No way another unfair event drops for a while!"

Of course that was pure wishful thinking on Yu Hee's part. Nothing more.

Even so, saying it out loud was the only way to keep the anxiety from crushing her.

Ordinarily she would've just bantered with the Humanity Clones in her head and brushed the unease off without a second thought. Not this time.

If I'd known it would be like this, I should've brought Cheon Nan-cho along.

What the hell was that girl even doing inside the Golden Core?

I pulled the scanner from my heart and tried calling, but got nothing but silence.

Still, the fact that Yu I-seong's exclusive weapon existed and could still activate was proof enough that the Humanity Clones were safe. Yu Hee forced her restless feet to keep moving.

Of course, by the time Yu Hee had clawed her way through every unfair event the system threw at her, maxed every last stat to the hard cap, and finally made it back to base — a full four months had passed.

And in all that time, she hadn't spoken a single word with the Humanity Clones.

The moment she returned to base, she bolted straight to San Gi-yeon and threw herself into her arms.

"Is something the matter, Senior?"

"No. Nothing happened."

I just wanted to talk to someone.

I'd gotten so desperate I'd even tried initiating a conversation interaction with a gray-dot NPC. They'd screamed and fled — probably because of my reputation.

Well, more accurately, I'd been walking around blasting murderous aura and Slaughter Tribulation in every direction, so of course that was the reaction. But without any Humanity Clones around to call her out on it, Yu Hee had no way of knowing.

"Have you already finished preparing to form your Nascent Soul, little newborn?"

"Everything except the enlightenment!"

Yeah. Enlightenment was the problem.

Forming a Nascent Soul meant a spiritual infant — a child's soul — would be born from the Golden Core. It also meant that I, currently an incomplete Transcendent, would be reborn as a complete one.

But enlightenment wasn't going to just drop out of the sky because I wanted it. Which meant I was stuck at base, grinding away in the training grounds until it came.

"Call me the second those pills are ready, Elder Togo!"

I wriggled free of Elder Togo's embrace as he smiled and nodded, then headed for the training grounds.

The preparations were almost complete.

Once the breakthrough consumables were finished, it would be time to cross the wall.

I looked up at the sky above the base.

When I ascended to Nascent Soul, a Heavenly Tribulation would come crashing down.

Whether I used that to become a complete Transcendent or climbed to the Upper Realm was entirely my choice.

But that decision could wait until after ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I found enlightenment. I stepped into the training grounds, settled into a cross-legged seat, and deployed my skills.

The Erosion Skill activated, synchronizing the training grounds with my Mental World. A tower forged from the Spoon rose as the axis of that inner world and completed itself, while the Slaughter Tribulation regenerating through the Mental World circulated along the pathways inside my body.

I dove into skill-grinding mode — simultaneously leveling Erosion, Transformation, and Spoon — and surrendered my entire mind to the flow of Slaughter Tribulation.

Yu Hee, her sense of time completely fried, had no idea. But as if it were the most natural thing in the world, the surplus Slaughter Tribulation auto-triggered Double Speed Mod, accelerating time inside the training grounds around her yet again.

The time ratio between the base and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the map was already being sped up by Double Speed Mod — and now it accelerated a second time, centered solely on Yu Hee.

The reason Heaven had sent an official notice to the Underworld declaring that this cultivator's lifespan was exhausted was, for all practical purposes, one hundred percent Double Speed Mod's fault.

From Heaven's perspective, Double Speed Mod or not, burned lifespan was burned lifespan.

The Underworld — the actual subcontractors handling the paperwork — held a rather different opinion, of course.

That said, calling Double Speed Mod a troll would be unfair. The fact that Yu Hee had reached Nascent Soul-ready growth in a mere century owed roughly half of that monstrous progress curve to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the mod.

And now that Yeomra, a True Immortal of the Underworld, had personally torn up Heaven's notice — even at the cost of shaving down his own karma — Heaven could no longer send another dispatch to the Underworld.

Nothing could stop Double Speed Mod.

Clink.

With the rattle of iron, gray shackles stretched out from a crimson star like a mirage, reaching toward Yu Hee as she poured herself into skill training in the grounds.

While the friendly NPCs Cheon Nan-cho and Togo were hard at work crafting the consumables for Yu Hee's breakthrough, the chains — having punched through the time dilation of Double Speed Mod — closed in. The moment they tried to sink into her—

From near the heart of the still-eyed, meditating Yu Hee, a golden barcode scanner peeked out.

The chains jerked desperately, but the shackles attached to them shattered at the mere brush of aurora light. Only less than half the original chain remained, flickering as if it might vanish at any second.

Yet the chain that had seemed ready to disappear mustered one final surge of strength, binding the empty air itself — then spent the last of its power and faded away.

The time ratio, which had been warping endlessly under the continuous activation of Double Speed Mod, was forcibly halted at roughly half its growth by those chains.

If Yu Hee had opened her mod window right then, she would have seen chains wrapped tight around Double Speed Mod — but lost in a trance of skill training, she had no way of knowing.

Not that she would have looked. Reality Denial had already blocked nearly every suspicion or thought about the realistic parts of the world that couldn't be processed through game logic.

Still, deep within the Mental World still unfurled for skill training — in the vast ocean of Slaughter Tribulation — a round little octopus sensed a familiar presence, briefly surfaced, then slipped back into the abyssal depths of slaughter.

"You still haven't found the Demon Immortal?!"

"No need to get so worked up. Watching the places she's likely to appear is better than chasing her location."

"Didn't they say they found the Uuje Islands after months of hard work?"

"However much that bastard U Yukgyeong claims it, he wouldn't lie — but there's always the chance he simply misidentified her, isn't there?"

"Hrm… possible, I suppose. If a giant descended from the Upper Realm clouded his eyes."

"A giant. Fine material to take with us when we ascend, wouldn't you say?"

They were Nascent Soul cultivators remaining in Gi-gye — specifically, two mid-stage Nascent Soul cultivators whose lifespans were nearly spent. Rather than pushing for higher realms, they occupied themselves with crafting techniques and Dharma treasures, or expanding their sects and growing the realm itself. If Yu Hee had seen them, she would've gone, Whoa — endgame content!

And their reasons for targeting the giant were perfectly clear.

The cultivator who crafted techniques and Dharma treasures wanted the giant's flesh and the arts of the Upper Realm. The cultivator who sought to prosper Gi-gye wanted to kill the Demon Immortal who had either annihilated the sect he had raised or obliterated the fortress he had built.

Of course, as early-stage Nascent Soul cultivator U Yukgyeong had said, a late-stage Nascent Soul giant was clearly lurking behind the Demon Immortal. But if that were true, the fact that the giant had let U Yukgyeong — who had tried to kill the Demon Immortal — walk away unharmed made no sense at all, did it?

If the Demon Immortal appeared, they would simply kill the late-stage Nascent Soul giant behind her in secret and harvest the materials. With that thought, the two mid-stage Nascent Soul cultivators endured their open-ended wait for word that the Demon Immortal had been sighted.