Chapter 20. Traits

A system message chimed brightly into being.

To check it out, I pulled up my status window.

"It went up again."

My potential was displayed, unmistakably, as C-rank. The ceiling had shot up once more, and a thrill was rising from somewhere deep in my body.

"...Though the experience tank needed ten times as much now."

I was grateful it hadn't jumped by a hundred, but a faint dread crept in all the same — at this rate, would leveling up one day demand a hundred thousand experience points?

"Maybe it's time I started paying attention to achievements, too."

Relying on quests alone to accumulate experience was far too unstable. Rather than waiting around for quests that might appear anywhere, at any time, in any form, it would be more reliable to draw a steady supply from achievements.

"But that's neither here nor there."

What truly deserved my attention was this.

"Traits."

A brand-new element that had been added to my status window along with the level-up — and, just as I'd expected, something I'd never once heard of. Even before my regression, no awakened person had ever possessed a trait slot on their status window.

"Traits, huh..."

Piecing together my limited knowledge, I could make a reasonable guess: unlike skills, which the user had to actively invoke, traits were inherent qualities whose effects were always in play. In other words, the difference between an Active Skill and a Passive Skill. A structure that made the user stronger simply by possessing it. For a hunter, there couldn't be a better system.

"Hm. If I had even one trait, I could extrapolate more."

Presumably because I'd only just acquired the trait slot, there was nothing in it yet. I didn't even know how one went about obtaining a trait.

"Trait... training ground?"

I glanced around warily. Fortunately, no one nearby was watching me.

"...Teleporting."

The moment I accepted the message's invitation, my vision flooded with darkness and my body grew weightless.

When I arrived —

"What is this place?"

It was a space where a vast galaxy sprawled overhead. For something called a training ground, it carried a decidedly mystical atmosphere.

With those words, a row of doors in all manner of shapes sprang into existence before me.

Above each door hung a keyword in elegant script — a sight that put me in mind of the entrance to some martial sect in a wuxia tale.

"So I can train for traits inside these?"

As a test, I approached the nearest door — one half-consumed by flame, its surface charred black.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained. I gripped the handle and flung the door wide open.

With a long creak, the door swung open onto yet another world. A horizon in the far distance, and an endless stretch of land beneath it — a view that would have drawn a gasp of admiration from anyone who simply stood and looked...

"Gyaaah! It's hot!!"

...a burning hellscape.

The entire ground was ablaze. Burning embers pattered down from the sky, and pillars of fire erupted at intervals. Everywhere I looked, flames raged.

"How the hell am I supposed to endure this insane place?!"

Really — the moment anyone could survive twenty-four hours here, wouldn't a trait like Fire Resistance be utterly redundant?

Whoosh!

"Aaagh!"

The soles of my feet sizzled like meat on a grill. A searing agony pierced straight through to my skull, and scorching air cycled through my lungs as if intent on cooking my innards.

I'm going to die like this!

Not a moment too soon, I fumbled the door open and stumbled back out.

"Haaah...!"

I flopped down where I stood, gulping down ragged breaths. Really? A minimum of one hour in a place like that?

"Thirty minutes in there and even my bones would be charred. What the hell..."

Grumbling, I checked the feet that had been standing on open fire seconds ago. With that kind of heat, it should have ended in far worse than an ordinary burn.

"...Huh?"

Something strange had happened. There wasn't a single burn on my feet — not even a scorch mark.

"So injuries sustained during training don't carry over to the outside?"

It was a small mercy. At least I wouldn't burn to death or end up crippled in there.

So what?

I'd still have to burn in that hell to earn the trait.

"Phew..."

After a long, deep sigh, I sprang up and went to inspect the other doors. Traits and trials stretching on without end. It would be a shame, truly, to walk away without all of them —

But even snagging just a handful of these would be an absolute jackpot, wouldn't it?

Some of them looked genuinely broken. Heavenly Martial Body, which vastly elevated one's comprehension of every martial art, or Poison Immunity, which granted resistance to all ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠toxins. Maybe not right this moment, but given time, plenty of them would pay dividends down the road.

"If I can survive the training, that is..."

It went without saying: the stronger the trait, the more brutal the trial. Fire Resistance alone demanded enduring ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a full hour in a burning hellscape as its bare minimum condition.

"This one, maybe I can manage."

After surveying the area, I came to a stop before a door of dark, richly grained wood.

Inside was an empty chamber with nothing but a lone scarecrow standing in it.

The condition was the simplest of any trial I'd seen so far. No enduring burning agony, no swallowing poison.

"They're giving away a trait just for smashing a scarecrow?"

Compared to the others, it seemed practically free.

"...There's no way it's that easy."

Put the other way around, it meant destroying this scarecrow was as grueling as any of the other trials.

Still!

It beat being set on fire by a hundredfold, a thousandfold. I loosened up lightly and walked up to the scarecrow's front. It was featureless, roughly my own size.

"No weapons provided, huh?"

Mulling over the inconvenience —

Thud!

I slammed my fist into the scarecrow. A heavy shock traveled up through my knuckles. It looked like something stitched together from hide and straw, but it was harder than steel.

...They wanted me to break this with my bare hands?

"Insane."

Without pausing, I drove my right fist out in a straight.

Thwack!

The thing didn't budge an inch. Instead, a sharp, stinging pain bloomed across my fist.

"Kgh..."

It hurt. It felt like my knuckles were being filed down. The difficulty of this trial bordered on the absurd. An ordinary person would have backed off right here.

"You picked the wrong guy to mess with."

I pulled off my shirt and tore it into a long strip, wound it around my hand like a bandage, and knocked my two fists together.

"Brute-force training like this is my specialty."

If it doesn't work, keep going until it does. Doubt nothing, attempt and repeat, over and over. That was what I'd done countless times before.

"Let's do this."

Without hesitation, I threw the next punch.

How much time had passed?

"Haaah...! Hnngh..."

My entire body was soaked through with sweat. My fists, thrust out without pause, had long since gone numb; merely standing had reached its limit, and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠my legs shook uncontrollably.

Thwack! Thud!

Dark drops of blood dripped through the makeshift bandage. The scarecrow's white hide had been stained red ages ago.

Crack!

"Ugh!"

A dull ache shot out from the joints of my fingers. I bit down on my lip and forced out the next punch.

Smash!

I used the pain to rouse my fading consciousness, dragged up the will that wanted to weaken, and kept hammering at the scarecrow with my eyes stretched wide.

Thud!

Little by little — just a tiny sliver at a time — I could see the scarecrow wearing away. Like water droplets falling onto stone. Faint, but real.

If I can see myself moving forward, that's enough.

Growth like this was old territory for me. Straining until I burst, yet growing at less than half the pace of everyone else. Spending a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠lifetime chasing merely average. That was my foundation.

"...I got intoxicated by my post-regression growth rate and forgot it for a moment there."

I must not forget. The moment you forget the desperation, the emotions of that day go numb as well.

Crash!

Struggle.

Slam!

Move.

...Crunch!

Remember.

Crunch, crunch!

Why I regressed at all. The version of me who was weaker than anyone alive.

"Diiiiiie!"

Bang!

My fist — black with caked, dried blood — smashed into the scarecrow's chest.

Crrrack!

With a sharp, splintering cry, the scarecrow's support broke apart, and its once wall-firm body collapsed to the floor.

When I opened my eyes, the scenery of the sword sect had settled back into view. Everything around me was so tranquil that the time I'd spent in the training ground felt like a dream.

But.

What floated up before me now proved that time had been anything but wasted.

The Steel Bones trait had truly been added. Wearing a satisfied smile, I checked the details.

No convoluted explanation — just a clean, concise description.

"Honestly, that's better."

The messier an ability's description, the more conditions and restrictions you had to worry about.

"Let's see... yes, this will do nicely."

I picked up a decent-sized stone lying nearby. One with its end sharpened to a point — perfect for testing my freshly acquired Steel Bones.

"Hup!"

With a short intake of breath, I slammed the stone straight down onto the back of my opposite hand.

"...Haha!"

The moment it touched my skin, the rock crumbled away into nothing. The trait was applying itself, solid and true.

"Excuse me — could I borrow a sword?"

"Of course. Anything is fine, so take your pick. Not a wooden one, though — a real blade, please."

I hurried straight over to Seong Gyu-ho and borrowed a sword from him.

"Here you are... but may I ask what you need it for?"

"Nothing much."

Turning the edge toward myself, I flashed an easy smile.

"Wh-what are you doing right now—!"

"Yap."

Thrust!

Putting my weight behind it, I drove the tip of the blade into my own abdomen.

"AAAAAH! Why would you suddenly do that?!"

Seong Gyu-ho, his face draining an alarming shade of blue as he flailed in panic, gradually recovered his senses.

"Huh... huhh? Why isn't there any...?"

Not only was there no blood — the blade hadn't sunk into my stomach at all. My hardened skin had simply stopped the sword dead.

"Kkk...!"

And this was only a B-rank trait. Just how broken would an S-rank trait be?

Trait training, huh.

This, I decided, had a very promising future indeed. I barely managed to swallow the laughter that kept leaking out.

"Ah — thank you for the sword. I'll return it now."

"What kind of monster are you..."

Seong Gyu-ho sank to the ground in a heap.