Minh Truong noticed the change before the System acknowledged it.
The world hesitated.
It was subtle—too subtle for anyone living inside it to realize. A half-second delay in ambient sound. A flicker in background movement. A crowd that should have flowed naturally instead paused, then resumed as if nothing had happened.
But Minh Trường saw it clearly.
This world… was adjusting.
He didn't act.
He didn't think.
He only watched.
And that was enough.
A translucent layer appeared in his vision—no sound, no dramatic alert.
Just text.
[Environmental Stability: Recalculating]
[External Variable Detected]
[Correction Protocol: Passive Phase]
His breathing slowed.
So this was how it responded.
Not by attacking him.
Not by rejecting him.
But by correcting itself.
In the Astral Express, conversations repeated—almost perfectly, but not quite.
A sentence was spoken twice, with slightly different wording.
A laugh ended a fraction earlier than it should have.
Someone reached for a cup, missed it by centimeters, then tried again.
March 7th frowned.
"Did we… already talk about this?"
Dan Heng glanced up. "About what?"
She hesitated. "I don't know. It just feels like déjà vu. Stronger than usual."
Kafka, standing near the window, didn't turn around.
Her reflection in the glass moved a heartbeat slower than her body.
Interesting, she thought.
Minh Trường felt pressure.
Not physical.
Not mental.
Conceptual.
As if the world itself was gently pushing back—not to expel him, but to redefine the rules around him.
Another system line surfaced.
[Observer Status: Active]
[Synchronization Rate: 2.1%]
[Warning: Excessive Observation increases World Load]
World Load.
So the cost wasn't action.
It was awareness.
He understood instantly.
If he interfered, the world would react.
If he acted, the story would branch.
But if he kept watching, the world would slowly bend itself to account for his existence.
A silent tax.
Paid by reality.
Somewhere far from the Express, an NPC—someone who should never have mattered—stopped mid-step.
He looked up.
Not at the sky.
Not at anything visible.
Just… up.
For a brief moment, his eyes aligned with Minh Trường's viewpoint.
The connection lasted less than a second.
But it was enough.
The System reacted immediately.
[Correction Complete]
[Memory Rewritten]
[Anomaly Neutralized]
The NPC blinked, confused, then continued walking.
The moment never existed.
But Minh Trường felt it.
A faint chill ran through him.
So that's how they fix it, he thought.
They don't erase me.
They erase around me.
Kafka finally turned.
Her eyes met empty space—yet her smile sharpened.
"Interesting," she whispered. "The world is getting nervous."
No one asked what she meant.
Minh Trường didn't smile.
Because now he knew the truth.
He wasn't hidden.
He was being managed.
And the more he watched—
the more expensive his existence became.
[Observer Lock: Stable]
[Next Threshold: Unknown]
The world moved on.
But it would never be the same again.