As the steel of my crowbar drove toward the Abomination's exposed neck core, time seemed to dilate around the trembling wreck that was Yoon Sul. Even as he wallowed in the dirt, urinating on his pristine athletic gear in absolute terror, the system's hidden clockwork was spinning a completely different thread for him.
In the original timeline, Yoon Sul wasn't supposed to be a victim. He was a professional esports champion—the undisputed apex predator of the virtual arenas. He spent his entire youth treating life like a series of complex data streams, frames, and hitboxes. His hyper-fixation on gaming hadn't just won him trophies; it had perfectly synchronized his mind with the logic of the system apocalypse the exact microsecond the world fractured.
Because of his background, the system had granted him a legendary, highly coveted starting profession: [Class: Gamer].
It was a broken, rule-bending class that allowed him to view the real world through a literal video game interface. Armed with that class, his initial plan had been to smoothly navigate the chaos, calculating spawn timers, managing aggro, and tracking hidden mechanics. It was supposed to be his ultimate playground. His innate understanding of game theory had even led him to decode a series of cryptic, hidden celestial riddles scattered across the early system announcements—earning him a massive hidden item bonus and a series of powerful starter skills that made him deeply favored by the Constellations watching from above.
The cosmic entities loved a good show, and a high-APM pro-gamer turning a real-world apocalypse into a flawless speedrun was the ultimate entertainment. They were ready to rain down sponsorships on him.
But his flawless calculus had left out one critical variable.
Real pain.
A virtual health bar going down didn't come with the hot, iron stench of spilled blood, the ear-splitting screams of thousands dying in the streets, or the suffocating pressure of a C-Rank boss monster's actual presence. The moment the regional barrier solidified, Yoon Sul's legendary gaming instincts completely shattered under the weight of primal human panic. The pro-gamer who was supposed to effortlessly sequence-break the tutorial was now just a pathetic, hyperventilating child face-planted in the dirt.
His hidden items, his broken class, and his celestial favoritism meant absolutely nothing if he was too paralyzed with fear to hit the buttons.
Thwack!
My crowbar struck true, shattering the crystalline outer shell of the Abomination's neck core. Ethereal, blindingly bright purple mana exploded from the wound, washing over my face and spraying across Yoon Sul's trembling shoulders.
The monster gave one final, gurgling wheeze before its massive eight-foot frame collapsed sideways, crashing onto the concrete inches away from the sobbing esports champion.
A sharp, demanding thrum vibrated directly behind my eyelids. The dormant S-Rank trait didn't care about Yoon Sul's stolen potential or his shattered psyche. It only cared about the meal pulsing right in front of us.
[A higher-tier Boss Monster Core has been exposed.]
[The sealed ego of 'Dragon's Eyes' demands sustenance.]
[Will you absorb the core?]
"Absorb," I commanded coldly.
The moment the command left my lips, the Dragon's Eyes didn't just drink the mana—they violently ripped it from the monster's chest. A vortex of dense, violet energy swirled into my irises, and instantly, my entire world view fractured and rebuilt itself.
The white-hot agony from before returned, but this time, it came with a terrifying expansion of consciousness. My vision stretched, tearing away the physical illusions of flesh, concrete, and smoke. The plaza vanished. In its place, everything became a canvas of perfectly mapped vector lines, numerical velocity values, and pulsing networks of pure, raw energy. I could see the exact friction coefficient of the ground beneath my boots; I could see the decaying mana latency dripping from the dead boss; I could even see the precise, flickering stat-weights fluctuating inside a terrified Yoon Sul.
Ah, I thought, a breathless gasp escaping my throat as my mind strained to process the sheer volume of data. So this... this is how he saw the world.
This was the ultimate cheat Yoon Sul had used to ascend the ranks in my past life. To his 'Gamer' class, the apocalypse wasn't a tragedy; it was a highly predictable, numerical simulation. With a view like this, dodging a fatal strike wasn't about reflexes—it was just about stepping outside of a highlighted red zone. Finding hidden items wasn't luck—it was just reading the rendering errors in the code.
A manic, dark sense of clarity washed over me as the burning in my eyes solidified, sealing the core's power into my system. I had just taken his perspective, his evolution, and his future, but unlike him, I possessed the one trait a cozy esports cage could never provide.
I had the cold, unyielding malice of someone who had already died once.
[Absorption complete.]
[The Sealed Ego has consumed a C-Rank Core.]
[Dragon's Eyes Evolution Progress: 12.5%]
[Your baseline comprehension has increased. All attributes permanently increased by +2.]
I stood up straight, the agonizing friction of the world fading into a smooth, effortless stream of raw data. I felt lighter, sharper, and fundamentally heavier to the world around me. I turned my crimson-tinted gaze down toward Yoon Sul, who was looking up at me in absolute, breathless awe.
He didn't realize it, but the monster he was so afraid of wasn't the one lying dead in the dirt. It was the one standing right over him.