Dark Moon
"What are you doing? Focus. Mana reverse flow requires careful aftercare. If you don't clean it up properly, residual damage will linger in your mana roads."
A man who appeared to be a doctor said irritably.
I pushed my muddled thoughts aside. There was nothing wrong with what he'd said. It was a setting that appeared in the game as well.
Mana reverse flow has to be treated in time or you'll suffer for it later. What's urgent isn't my memories — it's this body of mine right now.
A mana breathing technique I'd learned years ago came to mind.
That breathing technique won't work. I'd lose more than seventy percent of the mana in my body.
This was also a small stroke of fortune. Giving up seventy percent was far too wasteful. An opportunity like this might never come again.
Then my mind flashed. Knowledge of mana breathing techniques surfaced as if scattered pieces were assembling themselves of their own accord.
If I modify the breathing technique slightly, I should be able to cut the loss rate down to thirty percent…
The Raytal-style mana breathing technique was complete in itself. Even though it was only a 2-Class technique, carelessly tampering with it could lead to irreversible consequences. Ironically, I could die the moment I entered the game.
…But it's hard to ignore what's rising in my head. It's handing me the answer — am I supposed to just look away?
The more I deliberated, the more certain I became of the knowledge. I decided to accept it.
I opened my Astral — what mages call the mind. The mana roads inside my body became clear. Mana flowed through them like a train racing along its rails. There were three mana roads connected to my Astral. Average for a 1-Class mage.
Not enough. There's too much mana for three mana roads to handle.
After some thought, I attempted to expand my Astral. I was ready to stop the instant something went wrong, but strangely, I could instinctively sense the limits of my Astral.
Expanding my Astral enough to reach 2-Class is impossible right now.
My Astral was currently empty. In game terms, that meant no experience. Whether magic formulas or combat experience, I needed something to fill it. Of course, my body wasn't prepared either.
Two more mana roads extended from my Astral. All five obeyed my will. The mana that had filled my abdomen began to settle and circulate. I watched the circulation path carefully. Since I'd altered it slightly from the original, I was ready to intervene the moment a problem arose. But there was no problem. The five mana roads were stable.
I opened my eyes.
The doctor looked at me with emotionless eyes.
"Your mana has stabilized. You look fine, so go back."
"Yes. Thank you."
I offered a greeting that held not a shred of sincerity. I instinctively knew that riling up the doctor would do me no good.
The doctor waved his hand as if I were a nuisance. I got down from the bed, put on my shoes, and left the infirmary.
Outside the door was a corridor.
Gray concrete walls and floors stretched on endlessly. Memories surfaced. I headed right, organizing my thoughts as I walked.
I am Seong Yujin. An F-Class hunter from South Korea. Age twenty-one. No girlfriend. As a hunter, I have no abilities — a special case who only awakened physical capabilities without any powers.
As I traced my memories, I frowned. I remembered the names of my university and high school, but nothing that had happened there. I didn't even know my parents' faces. My memories were like a net full of holes.
In contrast, No. 211's memories and my knowledge of the Dark Moon game were crystal clear.
I was born to parents who were slaves. Naturally, I became a slave too. After my parents died, my master sold me to the Freesel Kingdom. Until I was ten, I grew up without want. Food, clothes, a place to sleep — all provided by the kingdom. The problem was that the purpose was the Battle Mage Project.
The Battle Mage Project.
A plan by the Freesel Kingdom to secretly gather children with 1-Class mana affinity and raise them as battle mages.
They called it training, but in reality it was closer to an experiment. Becoming a battle mage required talent of 3-Class mana affinity or higher.
The true nature of the project was an experiment to forcibly raise 1-Class mana affinity to 3-Class.
And this experiment has already succeeded. The problem is that the success rate is only about five percent.
The Freesel Kingdom was satisfied with the results and continued the project. If five out of a hundred children with 1-Class mana affinity talent became battle mages, that alone was profitable.
No. 211. That's the name they gave me, but… do you think I'd accept a name like that? My name is Yujin.
The sorting of my memories was nearly complete. There was nothing particularly remarkable in No. 211's life.
My sense of self is Seong Yujin. No. 211's memories feel like something I'm reading.
I saw a glass window hanging in the corridor. Beyond the iron bars, Seong Yujin's face was reflected in the glass. Black hair, black eyes. Aside from looking a bit younger, it was definitely me — Seong Yujin.
I left the window behind and headed for the barracks from my memories.
Barracks No. 11.
When I opened the heavy-looking door, a place resembling the old military barracks of South Korea appeared. It wasn't strange. The Battle Mage Project was being run by the Freesel Kingdom's military, after all.
Inside the barracks were seventeen children around my age. Eighteen including me. Mixed gender — eight girls, ten boys. This world was a mess when it came to human rights, but surprisingly egalitarian when it came to gender.
Everyone's here.
Two had died two months ago, unable to defeat goblins in one-on-one combat.
The children were each doing their own thing — chatting with friends, sleeping, reading books.
"No. 211. I heard you fainted from mana reverse flow during mana breathing practice? How's your body?"
A thin-bodied boy said with a smile. No. 205. The barracks leader of No. 11 and the squad leader. He had a strong sense of responsibility as squad leader. In my memories, his meddlesome nature was a bit of a flaw, but he was a good guy.
"Yeah, I'm fine."
"If you weren't fine, you'd have been disposed of."
A snide voice cut in.
A solidly built boy leaning against a locker spoke. No. 202. His left eye was crossed. Unlike No. 205, his personality was rotten.
"Well, if it were you, you'd have been disposed of from mana reverse flow. You can't handle mana for shit."
"…You looking for a fight?"
"Bring it on."
I sneered at No. 202. He couldn't do anything anyway. Cause a scene here and only annoying torture awaited.
Knowing that, No. 205 didn't bother stopping us either.
"Tch. Just you wait."
No. 202 clicked his tongue, then lay down on the floor and closed his eyes.
I shrugged once and went to my spot. It was against the wall, which I rather liked.
"What happened?"
The girl sitting next to me spoke. Short brown hair. No. 212. An ordinary girl. I reflexively scanned her body before fixing my gaze on her eyes.
"What?"
"The mana reverse flow. No. 177's guts burst and he died from it."
I remembered. About three weeks ago, a guy who couldn't endure the Mana Essence injected into his body and died from mana reverse flow.
"No. 177 and I are different cases. I just had a mana reverse flow while practicing the mana breathing technique."
"The fact that mana reversed is the same, isn't it?"
"The situation is different. As you know, I'm lagging behind. I only just became a 1-Class mage. There wasn't that much reversed mana. You could say I got lucky."
I really had gotten lucky.
The mana that filled my body through the reverse flow was at a level I could handle, and the doctor did nothing. If that quack had carelessly touched me, the situation could have gotten worse.
"Was it really just luck? No… special secret technique or anything?"
No. 212's eyes sparkled. So this was her real purpose. I let out a hollow laugh.
"A slave having something like that? No way."
"I heard No. 31 has secret magic?"
"…That's just her being special. There's a rumor she's of noble birth."
No. 31.
There was a rumor she was a noble's bastard. Even the Battle Project administrators showed difficulty when dealing with her. She was receiving special treatment in many ways.
"So you really just got lucky? I'm glad you're okay. Congratulations."
No. 212 said with a smile. Her mouth was smiling, but the corners of her eyes trembled. Her voice was quite artificial too.
I wouldn't have acted like that.
I decided to ignore her and focus on the chaos in my head. I needed to organize the information about the game Dark Moon.
After ten minutes, a heavy male voice came from the speaker on the ceiling.
"Evening roll call begins in five minutes."
Roused from my thoughts, I gave a bitter smile. I was a slave, a soldier, and a test subject. Being adorned with three similar words made me feel oddly melancholy.
After the familiar evening roll call ended, I lay down on my bunk. I closed my eyes, but sleep wouldn't come. With the surroundings quiet, I realized the reality of my situation.
……What do I do from here? If I open my eyes, will I go back to reality?
No chance of that.
I'd confirmed several times that this place wasn't a dream.
I didn't know why I'd entered the game, but I had to live in this world. As shitty as this world was, it wasn't unlivable.
Whatever else, my information about Dark Moon is crystal clear. I can tell there's no player in my memories.
In Dark Moon, the player can choose their starting point. The fact that there's no one here means either the player doesn't exist, or they're somewhere else. I think it's the former — because I might be the player.
The Dark Moon player could freely develop by allocating stats and skill trees. So maybe…
I muttered inwardly.
Status window.
Nothing happened.
"……Status window."
Maybe I had to say it out loud. I muttered in a very quiet voice.
Nothing happened.
Swallowing the sigh that tried to escape, I discarded useless thoughts and considered what came next.
I have zero intention of making a career out of the military. When the opportunity comes later, I'll escape. I want freedom. I don't want to live as a slave for the rest of my life.
I touched my right forearm.
A strange seal of seven triangles joined together was drawn there.
It was the Freesel Kingdom's high-grade slave brand.
Through this brand, a slave could be easily killed, and runaway slaves could be tracked.
My life is in someone else's hands…. How dreadful.
To escape this place, I had to eliminate this brand first.
Several methods surfaced in my mind. Not even three minutes had passed and five methods had come to me.
Was my memory always this good?
Even now, a sixth method was occurring to me. Weighing success rates came later. First I'd think of methods, then eliminate the ones with low success probability and form a plan.
I fell asleep only after midnight.