Isaac woke to the sound of bells.
Not real bells. A notification from the blue window flickering in the corner of his vision:
[12:00 PM]
[Day 2 - Preparation Week]
He opened his eyes slowly. His body still ached—muscles throbbing with deep, persistent pain, as if they had been crushed under a heavy grinding wheel. Every small movement reminded him of yesterday's insane training session.
But he could move.
He could stand.
That's... progress.
He rose from the bed carefully, joints cracking softly. Drank the remaining water from the old plastic cup on the desk—warm, but better than nothing.
Looked into the cracked mirror.
Blue eyes. Messy black hair that needed cutting. A face slightly pale from exhaustion.
Today... the city.
---
He left Stone Hall.
The narrow stone corridors were empty at this hour—most students were in classes, the library, or training. His footsteps echoed on the cold floor.
He descended the stone stairs—narrow, without railings, slightly dangerous if you weren't careful.
Passed by Amber Hall—the corridor there was wider, cleaner, lit with warm yellow mana lamps instead of cold blue ones.
Then Opal Hall—double doors made of dark mahogany wood, carved with golden patterns. Two golem guards stood on either side, their blue eyes glowing softly.
He didn't stop.
---
He reached the main academy gate.
A long corridor of white stone, arched ceiling, opening suddenly onto—
New Eden.
---
He paused at the end of the corridor.
The city stretched before him, massive.
Technically, the entire island was part of the academy—but the real "city," the market, residential districts, the pulsing life, was all in the south.
He began descending the wide stone steps that connected the elevated academy to the lower city.
With each step, his view expanded.
Towering structures of stone, glass, and metal pierced the sky. Suspended bridges connected buildings at different heights, people crossing them like ants. Blue mana lamps glowed even in broad daylight, mounted on tall posts along the streets.
Shops lined the main streets—colorful wooden storefronts, hanging signs swaying in the wind. Weapons, armor, potions, books, food, clothing.
This...
This is larger than any screenshot.
Larger than any description I've read.
He walked slowly through the main street. Observing. Watching. Memorizing every detail.
The people here—not all students. Some were merchants, wearing ordinary clothes, carrying crates of goods. Some were adventurers, wearing worn armor, real weapons on their backs.
Others... mysterious. Long cloaks, hidden faces, walking silently.
A living world.
Not just a game.
---
He reached the Grand Market.
A massive open square, the size of a football field—maybe larger. Hundreds of stalls spread in every direction—some simple wood, some sturdy metal, some mobile on wheels.
Vendors' voices overlapped in endless noise:
"Dragon-forged sword! Rare! Rare!"
"Pure mana potions! Competitive prices! Competitive!"
"Palm reading! Palm reading on your hand! One silver coin!"
"Enchanted armor! Fire-resistant! Lightning-resistant! Poison-resistant!"
Isaac entered slowly. His eyes moved left and right, capturing everything.
---
Weapons section.
A huge stall—swords hung on tall wooden racks like metallic fruit. Spears lined vertically like steel trees. Curved bows hung on ropes, swaying slightly in the wind.
He stopped before a small stall. Wooden training swords.
The vendor—a man in his forties, thick mustache, scar on his cheek—looked at him.
"Student?"
"Yes."
"Training sword?"
"How much?"
"Five coppers for basic wood. Ten coppers for reinforced with light protection layer."
Isaac nodded. Didn't buy. Just memorized the price.
Moved to the next stall.
---
Potions section.
Long rows of colored vials—red, blue, green, gold, purple.
Each color had meaning:
- Red: Health restoration
- Blue: Mana restoration
- Green: Poison antidote
- Gold: Temporary strength boost
- Purple: Temporary speed boost
The vendor—a young woman with short red hair, round glasses—smiled at him.
"First time visiting the market?"
"Yes."
"Small mana potion, twenty coppers. Medium, eighty coppers. Large, three gold pieces."
Expensive.
But logical.
He nodded. Continued walking.
---
Armor section.
Leather armor hung on wooden dummies. Heavy metal armor lined on the ground. Gauntlets, helmets, armored boots.
He stopped before a simple leather chest piece—dark brown, covering torso and shoulders.
"Fifteen coppers," the vendor said without being asked.
Isaac touched the leather. Thick. Sturdy. But slightly heavy.
Not now.
---
Books section.
A quiet stall compared to the surrounding noise. Books carefully arranged on wooden shelves. Some old, covers faded. Some new, shiny.
Novels.
History of New Eden.
Combat techniques—Basic Level.
Mana fundamentals.
The vendor—an old man with thick glasses, reading a book—didn't even look up.
Isaac browsed some titles. Reasonable prices—five coppers for common books, twenty coppers for technical ones.
Useful. But later.
---
Elite section.
In the distant corner of the market, separate from the rest.
A fancy stall—transparent glass walls, shiny metal frame. A vendor wearing a pristine white outfit, as if he'd never touched dust in his life.
The merchandise behind glass:
- A sword glowing pale blue
- A golden potion shining with inner light
- A book locked with complex mana seals
No prices displayed.
He turned and left.
---
He exited the market after three hours of continuous wandering.
His feet ached. His head spun with information overload—prices, places, names, faces.
But he memorized everything.
He now knew:
- Where to buy cheap weapons
- Where to buy potions at best price
- Where not to go if he had no money
Knowledge is a weapon.
---
He returned to the Training Hall.
But this time, the public arena.
No private rooms. No blessing. No autopilot.
Just him and his body.
---
First training day (Day 2 of Preparation Week).
He started with stretching.
Arms—raised them, extended them, rotated them slowly.
Legs—bent them, extended them, lifted them sideways.
Back—bent forward, backward, twisted right and left.
Neck—slow rotation, side stretches.
Every movement painful. But he continued.
---
Running around the arena.
One lap. Two. Three. Four. Five.
His body protested violently. His lungs burned. His legs trembled.
But he continued.
I must build a body that endures.
The blessing drains energy.
But the foundation is the body.
If the body is weak, the blessing isn't enough.
---
Trained on Dummy F.
This time, without activating the blessing.
Just his own strength. His own skills. His own mistakes.
Strike—wrong. Bad angle.
Defense—late. The dummy hit his shoulder.
Dodge—slow. The dummy chased him.
He learned.
Tried again.
Strike—better. Angle improved.
Defense—faster. Blocked the attack in time.
Dodge—smoother. Clean sidestep.
Two hours of continuous training.
Sweat dripped from his forehead. His black shirt stuck to his back. His body trembled from exhaustion.
But he felt it.
Improvement.
Noticeable, slow, but real.
---
Second training day (Day 3).
He woke with less pain. His body was adapting.
Running—ten laps without stopping. Heavy breathing, but he continued without collapsing.
Dummy F—defeated without blessing in five minutes. Fewer mistakes. Smoother movements. Better timing.
---
Third training day (Day 4).
Running—fifteen laps. His body no longer shook as violently as before.
Dummy E—challenged for the first time without blessing.
Lost.
But lasted ten full minutes. Dodged most attacks. Landed several hits. Made the dummy actually work for it.
Progress.
---
Fourth training day (Day 5).
He woke before dawn.
His body was different. Lighter. Faster. Stronger.
Not dramatically—he was still Rank F. But the difference was real.
Running—twenty laps without severe exhaustion. Breathing steady. Legs strong.
Dummy E—defeated without blessing in eight minutes. Clean strikes. Good defense. Fewer wasted movements.
---
In the evening, he returned to Stone Hall.
The cold stone corridors. The narrow stairs. Room 49.
Opened the door. Entered. Closed it behind him.
Sat on the bed—the thin, lumpy mattress.
His body throbbed with productive pain—pain that meant growth.
Today was good.
He closed his eyes, preparing to sleep—
---
Ding.
A new notification.
Different.
Not from the usual status window.
He opened his eyes quickly.
A different blue window appeared—darker, more glowing, with thin golden edges:
---
[System]
[Maintenance Complete]
[Shop Open]
---
His heartbeat quickened.
The shop.
Finally.
---
He opened the window with focus.
---
[System Shop]
[Available to Transferred Players Only]
---
[Inventory: 847 items]
[Available Points: 0]
[Available Missions: 1]
---
The shop.
The inventory.
Everything I collected in the game... exists here?
He pressed "Inventory".
A long list appeared—pages and pages of items:
- Legendary weapons (locked—grayed out)
- Rare armor (locked)
- Special skills (locked)
- Secret books (locked)
- Rare resources (locked)
All locked.
All needed points.
---
He pressed "Available Missions".
One mission appeared:
---
[First Mission: The Dungeon]
[Rank: F]
[Deadline: Tomorrow (Before Entrance Ceremony)]
[Reward:]
- 100 Points
- Choose 3 free items from Inventory (regardless of lock status)
[Description:]
Complete any F-Rank dungeon alone. No help. No team.
[Accept?]
[Yes] [No]
---
He stared at the screen.
100 points.
And three free items.
Even the locked ones.
This... this changes everything.
He looked at his hands—stronger than before.
His legs—steadier.
His chest—rising and falling evenly.
Four days of training.
My body is ready.
He selected [Yes].
---
[Mission Accepted]
[Good luck, Player]
---
He lay on the bed.
Closed his eyes.
Slept.
Tomorrow.
The dungeon.