Set Items (4)
The set effect activated. Transparent luminous figures materialized around the weapons.
Weapon clones have been summoned.
Clones exhibit 70% of original capabilities.
A new message appeared as the skill took effect. It wasn't 100% of the original power—limited to 70%.
But that didn't matter. What mattered was what skills these bastards used.
'I have a rough idea which bastards wielded which weapons.'
Most daggers showed the forms of street thugs. Two-handed swords bore hulking bruisers. Some weapons had no form at all.
'So it summons the wielder's clone.'
"Wielder Clone Summoned."
Clones of those who had wielded the weapons materialized.
But that wasn't the key part. What came next was far more crucial.
"Summoned clones use the original wielder's skills."
Use the original wielder's skills. That meant deploying skills.
So which weapon's clone would shine brightest? One pair stood out: [Blood Twin Scimitars] and [Piercing Heavy Bowgun].
Their wielders had been Jeanne and the production intern.
Whoosh. Whoosh.
The Jeanne-like figure spun the twin scimitars in a dazzling blur, while the intern clone knelt halfway, aiming at some point.
Just watching made it clear they were a cut above the rest.
"I-I've never seen anything like this…"
No wonder he was stunned. This technique didn't even exist in the game.
If he had any sense, he'd notice the gear I was wearing.
"No way… right now…?!"
Yeah, exactly. Good instincts. You pass.
The bastard glanced back and forth between the ring on my finger and my armor.
"You're wearing a set? So this is Damian's set effect?!"
"You catch on quick."
He'd figured out the situation. Time to show him what it could do—and test it myself while I was at it.
Whoosh!
I issued the attack command. The transparent clones charged like disciplined soldiers.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Jeanne with the twin scimitars struck first, pressuring him relentlessly. She swung the pair like a dancer, matching his speed perfectly.
Jeanne and the bastard traded blows and parries.
'The summoned weapons' movements have changed.'
It was night and day compared to when the weapons moved on their own.
Before, without my direct control, they'd seemed sluggish. That's why I'd handled most of them myself.
But with clones, everything changed. Now the true potential of those scimitars was on display.
"Sh-Shitttt!"
He countered Jeanne's assault with everything he had—deflecting with mana-clad fists, dodging for dear life.
But he wasn't just facing the scimitar Jeanne.
Thud! Boom!
The intern was even more impressive. He unleashed his signature Multi-Shot and Explosive Arrow nonstop.
The bastard brushed off the Multi-Shot bolts easily, but the Explosive Arrow was different—it detonated on impact.
Out of habit, he swung his fist to block the bolt. Big mistake. It exploded right there.
He was hurled back by the blast.
"Guh… guh…"
He was clearly on the intern's level. But look at the situation now—unlike before when the intern got wrecked, this time the clone was dominating.
I'd gotten stronger, no doubt.
"Th-This can't be happening!"
Like a cornered animal's last gasp, he activated another skill. Following his awakening, another buff—one that tanked his defense for a massive attack boost.
That was poison to him right now.
Vmmm!
I sent the two-handed sword at him. It had changed too. Apparently, its wielders were two-handed sword experts—not just wild swings, but full spinning slashes.
In game terms, it'd be labeled Spinning Slash.
"Ugh… urk!"
Instinctively, he raised both arms to block.
But with his defense nerfed, could he handle it?
Slash!
Splurt!
"G-Gaaahhh!"
His fist was sliced clean off in a straight line. Blood sprayed from the stump like a fountain as he writhed on the ground in agony.
"G-Guhhh… D-Damian's power… already this strong…? N-No way…"
The fallen bastard muttered to himself.
"C-Can't… can't win… I can't win…"
Something was off with this guy. Unlike the others I'd fought, he was already trembling all over.
Had he never taken a wound this bad before? Losing his wrist sent him into full panic.
"I-I… d-don't wanna fight. I-I won't touch you anymore… p-please… spare me…"
Too late for that. Anyone who messes with me gets it back tenfold.
You touched me. But first, let's use your state to my advantage.
"What were you after through the scavengers?"
"S-Some key equipment… w-we were trying to track it down."
Terror had stripped away his earlier arrogance.
"Key equipment? What is it?"
"…Th-That's…"
Swish.
Words weren't getting through. Time for actions.
I aimed the two-handed sword's blade at his leg.
"Th-There are these guys we call users! You probably don't know about 'em… anyway, we're hunting gear for them."
He still hadn't realized I was possessed.
"Why?"
"T-To control them! Without their key gear, they can't use their full power… then they'll have to obey the company…"
"Control. And what do you want with that control?"
"Th-That's… you wouldn't get it even if I told you, but we're trying to see the e-end of the story we know."
It lined up with what I'd gleaned from the weapons' memories. For some reason, these guys wanted to witness the game's ending.
The ending reward…
'No way.'
It clicked. The game's endgame reward: the Otherworld Connection Key.
In reality, rumors swirled about the next expansion pack changing the entire world. Top players who beat the final boss got a special perk—the key to an otherworld.
'From this world's perspective, otherworld means…'
Reality?
"Do you know why you're chasing the story's end?"
"N-No! I swear! I'm not lying—I really don't know that far! They didn't tell us grunts! Guh…"
The staffer pleaded desperately. Seemed truthful. The emotions I saw through the weapons matched.
"Fine…"
With his wrist gone, he'd die anyway. And I'm not the type to spare someone who crossed me.
If he's dying, make it quick.
Slash!
Acquired 1,540 EXP.
I never planned to let him live anyway. He knew too much about me.
'At least I get why the devs came here.'
Initially baffling—why enter the game? Now it made sense. Level up here, then return to reality powered up.
'Why are there so many lunatics?'
What did they want in the real world? I just wanted payback on my captors, then escape.
'And this is my chance too.'
Maybe I could hijack their plan to get out.
'Otherworld Key'. My only shot.
So I had to survive until the final expansion hit.
'Grab the spanner and bounce.'
With the staffer dealt with, the incident wrapped up. Now for the objective: snag the spanner.
Clank.
Heavy, as expected for its size. Class-locked options made it unusable, of course. Player-character exclusive—even a Class Lock Release Scroll wouldn't help. All tailored to Mechanical Engineer skills.
Couldn't use it myself, but I registered it as a summon. No need to carry it around.
Hand it off to an engineer later.
* * *
A dark room. Dim lanterns swayed on the ceiling, illuminating then shadowing a man's face in flickers.
Click.
Another man steadied the swinging light, shining it on the bound captive.
A toned upper body gleamed with balanced muscle. Gold and black tattoos intertwined mysteriously across it—the tattoo master Kethar, whom Damian sought.
"Stubborn bastard. Still not talking?"
The torturer spoke. His mission from Descartes: extract maximum intel from the tattoo master.
But it wasn't easy.
"…"
Kethar lifted his head, arms bound behind him. Blood streamed from his forehead. His face was so battered it was barely recognizable, his body a mass of bruises.
Yet he stayed silent.
"You're tougher than that other user. The one we nabbed spilled everything before we even pulled his nails."
"…So there are other users besides me?"
"Kekeke! Curious now, eh? First words outta you. Yeah, there were more. Wanna hear details?"
Kethar nodded quietly.
The torturer cackled mockingly.
"Kekekeke, gone soft, have ya? Fine—one answer from you, and I'll spill. What's the source of your power?"
"…"
Kethar didn't reply. He was a player too—knew exactly what these people were.
'Talk, and they'll experiment on me nonstop. Can't die here. Gotta hold out for Chaeyeon.'
His desperate will to survive stemmed from his seven-year-old sister, alone in the real world. Too young to fend for herself.
That's why he had to escape, no matter what.
Rattle.
He tested a skill. No response, as expected.
"Tryna use your power? Save it. The drugs we pumped you with sealed it. Effect wears off eventually… but see those?"
The torturer pointed to syringes on the table.
"No worries if it fades. Kekeke, so give up and talk. What's your power?"
"…"
That day, Kethar never opened his mouth. To survive. To see his sister. To escape this place.