It's All in How You Use It

I took my time looking over the status window.

Set beside what I'd had a moment before regressing, it was a hollow, shabby little sheet with nothing worth showing off. Even so, the simple fact that my Mana wasn't zero put real strength back into both fists.

"Heh... heheheh!"

How else to explain the smile that kept slipping out between my lips? I pinched my cheek, half sure this had to be a dream, but instead of waking I only felt my head grow clearer. One question came with that clarity.

"A real regression? I actually went back?"

Nowhere in the dimensional realms was there an ability, or an item, that could turn time around. For a miracle like this to be possible at all, you'd have to be talking about something on the order of a Division 1 Dimension Cup championship reward before the odds were even worth discussing.

"Now that I think about it... after I blew that tentacle thing apart, I could've sworn I heard something like a voice."

I tried to drag the memory back into focus, and failed. I'd been certain I was about to die. Consciousness, all of it — I'd already let go.

The only thing that stayed sharp was the last instant. That I had become, across every dimension there was, the first Challenger.

"After Grand Master, no promotion trial ever came up, so I'd half given up. Who would've thought the condition was landing a hit on that tentacle bastard."

It made sense, then, why a Challenger had never appeared before.

So is my regression tied to becoming a Challenger?

That was about as far as I could reason it now. No one had ever set foot at that height. A regression offered up as the reward didn't sound like nonsense.

"Well. I'll know once I wear Challenger again."

Wear it again, and I'd know. If the people from before my regression had heard that, they wouldn't even have bothered to snort. But I already had the experience of reaching Challenger.

"And this life... it'll be easier."

My mana circuit was still intact. Of course, that was still a story from a long way off.

Right now I wasn't anywhere near Challenger. I hadn't even sat the placement matches. I was still Under.

"...Tsk."

Thinking about it, I was glad Suhyeok wasn't here. If an unranked nobody announced he was going to hit Challenger, Suhyeok would be doubled over laughing by now.

Smack!

I struck both cheeks hard and made myself look at what was real. Before the regression, maybe. As I stood now, I was nothing but a Level 5 former trainee the team had all but cut loose.

If I'm going to be ready for the Dimension Cup, I need the skill and the record to be chosen as a dimension representative. Nothing less.

Fortunately, there was still a good stretch of time before the Cup opened. Enough time for a mere released trainee to climb past the national team and stand as a representative of the whole dimension.

"So what I have to do right now comes down to two things?"

One was sitting the placement matches.

"Haa... my level's still too low to unlock ranked."

Ranked matches opened at Level 10. Placements, unfortunately, would have to wait.

And the rest...

Evolving my constitution. As it stood, there wasn't much to it.

All it did was give me a body a little harder and a little tougher than other people's. Looking at that alone, Warrior would have suited me — but Sky Epic had jammed me into Supporter for a reason. My skill.

A skill that raised a gravity zone with me at its center. The stat it demanded was Mana — the core ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠stat of a Mage, or a Supporter. The coach hadn't been talking nonsense when he said my constitution and my skill were pulling in different directions.

"I thought the same thing at first. That the constitution and the skill had nothing to do with each other."

Skills weren't easy to come by. That was why most people set their position by whatever they'd awakened with the first time. In my case the two pointed in completely different directions, so even the team had agonized over how to use me.

And the result of that was the illegal mana-circuit expansion surgery.

Thinking about it again made my blood rise. Anyway. I had stood at a fork. Follow the constitution into Warrior, or follow the skill into Mage or Supporter. My choice, then and now, was the same.

Warrior.

"Once the constitution evolves, it pairs with this skill like a dream."

In truth, what had lifted me onto the Grand Master line — the strongest tier in the dimensional realms — was that combination of an evolved constitution and this skill. Right now it was only D-grade, but a skill evolved with the person using it. This life, my mana circuit was still whole. Aiming past where I'd stood before the regression didn't seem like a bad idea.

"To even pick up the constitution-evolution quest, Stamina and Strength both need to be at least 10... I might as well raise my level in a normal match while I'm at it."

The Channel split into two broad kinds of match. Normal, and ranked. A normal match was exactly what it sounded like — an ordinary game with nothing on the line. Ranked was the real game, the one that decided your personal rank.

"Since it's come to this, I might as well farm a spread of stats."

I smacked my lips and activated the Channel, selecting a solo match. Just as I was about to start in earnest, I stopped short.

"Ah. Right."

I'd nearly gone in with no weapon at all. I currently held 3,000 credits.

"Not much..."

Credits were the currency you earned through the Channel. You could buy all kinds of items and resources with them, and in a world where players sat at the center they were worth more than cash or any jewel. Even so, three thousand wasn't a large sum. Pocket change — barely enough to scrape together one decent weapon.

"Well. It's an unranked normal match. I don't need anything grand."

I dug through the shop until something serviceable caught my eye.

In the end I took the cheapest bat of a reasonable size. The moment the purchase went through, a large bat materialized in front of me. I gripped it, swung a few times, and the feel of it settled in quickly enough.

"Hah. Three hundred credits for this."

Whoever had priced it was nothing short of a thieving bastard. Not that I could do anything about it. Being broke was the crime.

The last setting before the game truly began.

"Synchronization rate."

In plain terms, once you connected to the Channel, it asked how close the sensations there should sit to reality. Even if dying in the Channel didn't mean you stayed dead, ordinary people of this age couldn't easily keep fighting while a monster carved pieces off them.

Around this period, forty percent was about average.

At that level, even a crushed arm dropped to a pain you could grit through with a single grunt. You wouldn't freeze in front of a vicious monster, and death left no particular aftereffects. The catch was that lowering the sync dulled your senses by the same measure.

"For me, obviously—"

I crooked a smile and dragged the value all the way to one end.

I shoved the frantically blinking warnings off into a corner.

And so my first game began in earnest.

My vision flashed, and something yanked hard below my navel. When I lifted my eyelids, the room was gone. In its place stretched a vast plain and a forest. No matter how many times I connected to the Channel, I could never quite hide how uncanny it felt. The match hadn't officially started, so translucent walls still sealed the space around me.

Pop! Flash!

While I glanced around, other players began to be summoned into the walled-off space.

"Whoa!"

"Th-that startled me...!"

A few of them were clearly here for the first time, staring around at everything in wonder.

"Yaaawn~."

"......"

Others looked like they'd logged into a normal match only to loosen up before ranked.

"Oh?"

A handful of them, in particular, were wearing gear that was anything but ordinary. A male swordsman carried a keen-edged blade and pauldrons that looked like C-grade at the very least. Beside him stood a woman mage plastered head to toe in artifacts.

Are they insane? Between the two of them, that's a few hundred thousand dollars in gear, easy.

Being able to wear equipment of that level in a normal match like this meant one thing.

Trainees. And prospects, at that.

Sure enough, both of them had a team logo planted proudly on the chest. A mark shaped like a lightning bolt, wrapped in the great wings of a thunderbird. The emblem of MK Thunders, a mid-table side in the Division 1 league.

"Look at them..."

"Whoa, they must be pro-team trainees! That gear is insane."

"I'm a Thunders fan... should I go get an autograph now, before it starts?"

They must have felt the eyes. I could see the man's shoulders, and the woman's, creeping up little by little.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Spoiling them rotten isn't doing them any favors."

For the record, eyes were pouring onto me as well.

"That guy... is he homeless?"

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

"Not even a single piece of armor."

"That counts as a weapon, right? There's a log in the empty lot in front of my house that looks exactly like it."

The louder the murmuring grew, the harder I clenched my teeth. Why did I have to listen to talk like that? Even if all I had on me was a hoodie, a pair of jeans, and one oversized wooden club.

Hm.

Thinking about it, maybe I had it coming.

"Look at that guy... pfft!"

"Oh my... hehe!"

A moment later the MK Thunders duo got a look at me too, and they practically fell over laughing. If this match had been Survival instead of Hunting, I would have crushed those brats first.

"...Hoo."

I was drawing a long breath and settling my head when the notice came.

A signal flare burst, and the translucent walls vanished. Small goblin heads showed through the grass.

"Let's go!"

"Aaaah!"

The other players sprayed mana and skills and charged into the grass where the goblins were hiding. Out in front, of course, were the two from MK Thunders.

"So it begins."

I didn't take off right away. If anything, I let my shoulders go slack.

Vmmm...!

I focused on the mana writhing inside me. Still only a handful. A small amount.

Anyone else would say you can't do a thing with a pittance of mana like this.

I knew better. I knew how to spend mana at maximum efficiency. I had spent nearly my whole life operating only external mana, the kind that evaporated the moment you touched it. Wielding mana that was mine — mana that didn't burn off so easily — was almost too simple.

"Mana's all in how you use it."

I sent the mana gathered around my solar plexus flowing down through my lower body. Knees, calves, the ankles at the bone, then the soles and the toes. I made the current fluid. Then—

Detonate!

I kicked off the ground. Both legs sprang like coils, and a speed that shouldn't have been possible took shape. An output hard to believe from a mere 6 Mana.

"?!"

Startled by the sudden roar, the Thunders swordsman looked back, saw me, and his eyes went wide as saucers.

"Coming through~."

I tossed him the line in passing, put more strength into the hand on the bat, and used speed and muscle together.

Crack!

I caved in a goblin's head. It died without even a sound. A sensation like crushing a walnut shell between my fingertips traveled up my hand.

The system bloomed in a noisy flare of windows. Only one name sat on the ranking.

Grin.

A satisfied smile hooked itself at the corner of my mouth all on its own. I turned my gaze to the green runts packed through the grass.

"Shall we hunt for real?"

I licked my lips and swallowed, already tasting it.