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The first thing I noticed was the pain.
Not the dull, forgettable ache you get from sleeping wrong. This was sharp. Insistent. Like someone had taken a hammer to my skull and forgotten to stop swinging.
The second thing I noticed was that I wasn't dead.
Which was strange, because I distinctly remembered dying.
The truck had come out of nowhere—cliché, I know, but that's how these things go. One moment I was crossing the street in downtown Seoul, the next I was airborne, my body ragdolling across asphalt while my brain tried to process what the hell just happened. There'd been a moment of crystalline clarity where I'd thought, *Oh. This is it.*
And then... nothing.
Except now there was something. Pain. Sensation. The scratch of sheets against skin that felt simultaneously familiar and foreign. The taste of copper in my mouth. The smell of antiseptic and something floral—lavender, maybe?
I forced my eyes open.
Wrong ceiling.
That was my first coherent thought. The ceiling above me wasn't the water-stained plaster of my studio apartment in Seoul. It was smooth. Pale cream with intricate molding along the edges—the kind of expensive craftsmanship you only saw in old manor houses or period dramas.
I tried to sit up. My body protested with a wave of dizziness that nearly sent me back down, but I gritted my teeth and pushed through it. The room swam into focus piece by piece.
Definitely not my apartment.
The bedroom was spacious—too spacious for someone like me. A single window filtered in pale morning light through gauzy curtains. The furniture was minimal but elegant: a wooden desk cluttered with papers, a wardrobe that looked hand-carved, a bookshelf crammed with leather-bound tomes. Everything had that worn, lived-in quality of a space occupied by someone who didn't give a damn about interior design.
A mirror hung on the far wall.
I staggered toward it, my legs unsteady, like a newborn foal learning to walk. Each step sent pins and needles shooting up my calves. When I finally reached the mirror, I froze.
That wasn't my face.
Jin Haru—that was me, or had been me—was unremarkable. Average height, average build, average face. The kind of guy who could disappear in a crowd without trying. Brown eyes, black hair that never quite cooperated, a jawline that was decent but nothing special.
The face staring back at me now was... not that.
Sharp cheekbones. A jawline that could cut glass. Eyes the color of storm clouds—pale gray with flecks of silver that caught the light. Hair so dark it seemed to drink in the shadows, falling just past my ears in an artfully messy style that probably looked good without trying. The kind of face you'd see on a magazine cover or in a high-budget TV drama.
Model-pretty. That was the term. Not handsome in a rugged way, but beautiful in a way that made people do double-takes.
I touched my face—his face—my face now, apparently—and watched the reflection mirror the movement. The skin was smooth, almost porcelain. There was a faint scar along the left temple, barely visible unless you were looking for it.
"What the hell..."
My voice came out hoarse, raw, like I'd been screaming. It didn't sound like mine. Deeper. Richer.
Before I could spiral further into confusion, something flickered in my peripheral vision.
Text.
Glowing. Floating in mid-air like some kind of AR overlay.
**[NEXUS SKILL ANALYSIS SYSTEM ONLINE]**
**[Initialization Complete]**
**[Host Integration: 100%]**
**[Welcome, Lucian Ashcroft]**
I blinked. The text remained, hovering at eye level with clinical precision. No hologram projector. No screen. Just... there. Like my brain was hallucinating, except it felt too crisp, too deliberate to be a hallucination.
"Okay," I muttered. "I've officially lost my mind."
**[Mental State: Stable. Cognitive Function: Normal.]**
**[You have not lost your mind.]**
I stared at the floating text. It stared back, if text could stare.
"Right. Of course. Because talking AR interfaces are totally normal."
**[This is not augmented reality. This is the Nexus Skill Analysis System—an integrated cognitive enhancement framework designed to optimize Host performance through skill analysis and proficiency improvement.]**
I ran a hand through my hair—his hair—trying to ground myself. "So... you're what? A System?"
**[Correct. I am a System.]**
"Like in a video game."
**[Affirmative. Though the mechanics are derived from real-world principles of skill acquisition and mastery.]**
I laughed. It came out sharp and brittle. "Sure. Why not. I die, wake up in someone else's body with a pretty face and a System that talks like a textbook. This is either the weirdest afterlife ever or the world's most vivid coma dream."
**[You are not dreaming. You are not in a coma. You are alive in the body of Lucian Ashcroft, age seventeen, student at Azure Sky Academy. The previous consciousness ceased function approximately twelve hours ago due to severe astral core damage sustained during a failed dungeon raid.]**
That made me pause. "The previous consciousness... ceased function?"
**[Deceased. The original Lucian Ashcroft died. You now inhabit his body.]**
The room felt colder suddenly. I looked back at the mirror, at the face that wasn't mine, and felt something twist in my chest. Guilt? Horror? I wasn't sure.
"So I'm... what? Stealing a dead guy's life?"
**[You are not stealing. You are continuing. The body would have perished without intervention. Your consciousness was transferred as a stabilization measure.]**
"By who?"
**[Unknown. That information is not available within my operational parameters.]**
Great. Mysterious cosmic forces playing god with people's lives. That was comforting.
I turned away from the mirror and sank onto the edge of the bed, my head in my hands. This was insane. All of it. And yet... it felt real. The ache in my muscles. The dryness in my throat. The way the morning light slanted through the window and painted golden rectangles on the wooden floor.
If this was a dream, it was the most detailed dream I'd ever had.
"Okay," I said finally, lifting my head. "If I'm really Lucian Ashcroft now, then I need information. Who was he? Where am I? What's Azure Sky Academy?"
The text shifted, reorganizing itself into something resembling a status screen.
**[NEXUS SKILL ANALYSIS SYSTEM v2.7]**
**Host: Lucian Ashcroft**
**Age: 17**
**Core Rank: D-Rank (Mid-Stage)**
**Skill Points (SP): 0**
**CORE ATTRIBUTES:**
- Strength: 34/100 (Below Academy Average)
- Agility: 42/100 (Average)
- Astral Power: 38/100 (Below Academy Average)
- Mana Control: 29/100 (Poor)
- Endurance: 36/100 (Below Average)
- Combat Instinct: 51/100 (Average)
**AFFINITIES:**
- Spatial Magic: 41% Proficiency
- No Secondary Affinity
**CURRENT EVALUATION: Mediocre. Requires significant skill optimization to remain competitive.**
I stared at the numbers. They painted a pretty damning picture. Below average in almost everything except combat instinct, which was barely scraping by at average. Spatial magic sounded cool, but 41% proficiency was... what? Mediocre?
"So Lucian was weak."
**[Lucian Ashcroft was average for a D-Rank Hunter. However, within the context of Azure Sky Academy—an elite institution—average is synonymous with inadequate.]**
"And what about his background? Family? Friends?"
**[Lucian Ashcroft: Orphan. Parents deceased eight years ago during a gate break in Silverfall. Raised in imperial orphanage until age fifteen, when he awakened his Astral Core and was admitted to Azure Sky Academy on academic merit. No living relatives. Minimal social connections. Reputation: quiet, unremarkable, easily overlooked.]**
I let out a slow breath. An orphan. That explained the sparse room, the lack of personal touches. Lucian had been alone.
Just like me.
The parallel wasn't lost on me. Jin Haru had been an orphan too—parents dead in a car accident when I was twelve, raised by an aunt who tolerated me more than loved me. I'd spent my twenties working dead-end jobs, living paycheck to paycheck, existing more than living.
And now I was here. In another orphan's body. In another world, apparently.
"Azure Sky Academy," I said, testing the name. "That's a school?"
**[Affirmative. Azure Sky Academy is the premier Hunter training institution in the Aetheria Empire. It educates elite students in combat, magic, dungeon tactics, and gate management. Graduation guarantees a B-Rank Hunter license and access to high-tier guilds.]**
Hunters. Gates. Dungeons.
The words conjured images of fantasy novels and RPGs. The kind of stuff I used to read during lunch breaks to escape the monotony of real life.
"So this world has... what? Monsters? Magic?"
**[Correct. This world—designated Aetheria—is a post-Awakening civilization. Seventy-three years ago, dimensional gates began appearing globally, connecting Aetheria to pocket dimensions filled with hostile entities and valuable resources. Humanity adapted through the development of Astral Cores—internal energy sources that grant supernatural abilities. Hunters are individuals who use their cores to combat gate threats and harvest dungeon resources.]**
I processed that. Dimensional gates. Monsters. Superpowers. It sounded like every isekai anime I'd ever watched, except I wasn't some overpowered protagonist with cheat abilities. I was Lucian Ashcroft—mediocre D-Rank Hunter with below-average stats and no friends.
Perfect.
"And you?" I asked, gesturing at the floating text. "What's your deal? Why do I have you?"
**[I am the Nexus Skill Analysis System. My function is to analyze your skills, identify inefficiencies, and provide optimization pathways. Unlike typical Astral Cores, which grant raw power, I specialize in refinement. Quality over quantity. Precision over force.]**
"So you make me better at what I already do."
**[Correct. I do not grant new abilities. I perfect existing ones. A D-Grade skill in your hands can become B-Grade. A mediocre technique can become masterful. This is your advantage.]**
I leaned back, letting that sink in. It wasn't a cheat-level ability. I wouldn't suddenly become S-Rank overnight. But if I could take Lucian's mediocre skills and polish them into something exceptional...
That was workable.
"Alright," I said, standing up. My legs felt steadier now, the dizziness fading. "Show me what I'm working with. What skills did Lucian have?"
The screen shifted again.
**[CURRENT SKILL INVENTORY]**
**Active Skills:**
- **[Spatial Blink]** (F-Grade) - Novice 18%
Short-range teleportation. Max distance: 5 meters. Cooldown: 15 seconds. Mana Cost: High.
- **[Astral Blade]** (F-Grade) - Beginner 22%
Manifests a blade of condensed astral energy. Duration: 30 seconds. Sharpness: Low. Mana Cost: Moderate.
**Passive Skills:**
- **[Spatial Awareness]** (F-Grade) - Beginner 31%
Enhanced perception of surroundings. Range: 10 meters. Accuracy: Poor.
- **[Basic Combat Form]** (F-Grade) - Beginner 27%
Foundational martial techniques. Efficiency: Standard.
**ANALYSIS: All skills rated F-Grade. Proficiency levels indicate minimal training and poor execution. Recommend immediate optimization protocol.**
I grimaced. Four skills. All F-Grade. All barely trained.
No wonder Lucian had died in a dungeon.
"Can you upgrade these?" I asked.
**[Affirmative. Skill upgrades require Skill Points (SP). SP is earned through combat, skill usage, dungeon clearing, and strategic victories. Current SP balance: 0.]**
Of course. Nothing was free.
"So I need to fight to get stronger."
**[Correct.]**
I walked over to the window and pulled the curtain aside. The view outside made me suck in a breath.
The city sprawled below like something out of a sci-fi movie. Skyscrapers made of glass and steel jutted toward the sky, but they were interwoven with structures that looked ripped from a fantasy epic—spires with glowing runes, bridges that floated without visible support, gardens that defied gravity by growing sideways along vertical walls.
People moved through the streets far below, tiny as ants. Some walked normally. Others... flew. Or teleported in flashes of light. One figure zipped past on what looked like a surfboard made of crackling lightning.
And in the distance, past the city limits, I could see them.
Gates.
Massive, shimmering portals that hung in the air like wounds in reality. They pulsed with eerie light—blues, purples, reds—each one a doorway to somewhere else. Somewhere dangerous.
"Welcome to Aetheria," I muttered.
A knock at the door made me turn.
"Lucian? You awake?"
The voice was male, young, tinged with concern. I didn't recognize it, but whoever it was clearly knew Lucian.
I cleared my throat. "Yeah. I'm up."
"Thank the gods. You've been out for half a day. The healers said you'd pull through, but..." The door cracked open, and a face peered in. "You look like hell, man."
The guy was my age—seventeen, maybe eighteen. Lean build, messy brown hair, friendly eyes. He wore the same uniform I saw hanging in Lucian's wardrobe: a dark blue blazer with silver trim, the Azure Sky Academy crest embroidered on the breast pocket.
"I feel like hell," I admitted, which wasn't a lie.
He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. "I'm not surprised. You took a nasty hit from that Razor Hound. If Magnus hadn't pulled you out when he did..." He shook his head. "Anyway. I'm Kael. We're in the same year. Same combat class."
Kael. The name didn't ring any bells, but the System helpfully provided a small text box:
**[Kael Renner - Classmate. Fire affinity. C-Rank (Early-Stage). Known for friendly demeanor but lacks close bonds with Lucian. Relationship: Acquaintance.]**
"Right," I said slowly. "Thanks for checking in."
Kael waved it off. "No problem. Just wanted to make sure you're okay before classes start tomorrow. You're planning to attend, right? Professor Kael will rip you a new one if you miss the practical exam."
Practical exam. Great.
"I'll be there," I said.
"Good. Oh, and..." Kael hesitated, scratching the back of his neck. "Look, I know we're not close or anything, but if you need help catching up, let me know. That dungeon raid was brutal for everyone, but you got the worst of it."
I nodded, keeping my expression neutral. Inside, my mind was racing. Dungeon raid. Lucian had nearly died. The body I was in now had been through hell.
And I had no idea how to survive in this world.
After Kael left, I sat back down on the bed and stared at the System screen still hovering in my vision.
"Okay," I said quietly. "I'm Lucian Ashcroft now. D-Rank Hunter with mediocre skills and a System that promises I can get better. I'm at an elite academy full of people stronger than me. There are monsters, dungeons, and gates out there that can kill me."
**[Accurate assessment.]**
"So what's my move? How do I survive?"
**[Recommendation: Begin skill training immediately. Optimize existing abilities. Earn SP through combat and practice. Upgrade skills to higher grades. Establish competitive edge through superior execution rather than raw power.]**
I looked down at my hands—Lucian's hands. They were slender, elegant. The hands of someone who hadn't done hard labor. But they were mine now.
Everything was mine now.
The body. The name. The life.
And if I wanted to keep living it, I needed to get stronger.
"Alright," I said, standing up. "Let's do this."
**[Acknowledged. Displaying first training objective.]**
**[OBJECTIVE: Master the basics. Bring [Spatial Blink] to Intermediate proficiency (41%). Estimated time: 7 days of focused practice. Reward: 100 SP + Unlock upgrade path to E-Grade.]**
Seven days.
I could do that.
I walked over to the center of the room, rolled my shoulders, and focused inward. The Astral Core—I could feel it now, a faint pulse of energy in my chest, like a second heartbeat. It was weak, barely there, but it was mine.
Lucian's memories were fuzzy, fragmented, like trying to recall a dream after waking. But some things came through: the sensation of channeling mana, the mental trigger for activating skills.
I reached for that sensation now.
"Spatial Blink," I whispered.
The world lurched.
One moment I was standing in the center of the room. The next, I was stumbling against the wall three meters away, my stomach churning from the sudden displacement. Nausea hit me like a freight train, and I barely kept myself from throwing up.
**[Spatial Blink executed. Distance: 3.2 meters. Mana efficiency: 68%. Form: Poor. Side effects: Moderate nausea, disorientation.]**
**[ANALYSIS: Insufficient mana control. Improper spatial anchoring. Recommend repeated practice to build muscle memory and reduce side effects.]**
I wiped the sweat from my forehead, breathing hard.
"This is going to suck, isn't it?"
**[Affirmative. Progress requires effort. Pain is a natural byproduct.]**
I laughed despite myself. "Great. A System with a sense of humor."
**[I do not possess humor. I am stating facts.]**
"Sure you are."
I pushed off the wall and returned to the center of the room. My body ached. My head throbbed. But I didn't stop.
"Spatial Blink."
Lurch. Stumble. Nausea.
Again.
"Spatial Blink."
Again.
"Spatial Blink."
Again.
By the time the sun set outside my window, I'd activated the skill forty-three times. My mana reserves were bone-dry. My legs felt like jelly. And I was pretty sure I'd bruised my shoulder from colliding with the wardrobe on my fifteenth attempt.
But when I checked the System screen, there it was:
**[Spatial Blink] - Novice 23% (+5%)**
Five percent progress in one day.
It wasn't much. But it was something.
I collapsed onto the bed, every muscle screaming in protest. The ceiling stared back at me, blank and indifferent.
"Lucian Ashcroft," I muttered, testing the name again. It still felt foreign on my tongue. "Guess that's me now."
**[You will adapt. Humans are remarkably resilient.]**
"Yeah," I said softly. "I guess we are."
Outside, the city glowed with light and magic. Gates pulsed in the distance. And somewhere out there, in the dungeons and the darkness, monsters waited.
But for now, I was alive.
And I was going to stay that way.
No matter what it took.
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