The world Soobin found himself in was ruled by two opposing forces: Spirit Energy and Shadow Energy.
Spirit energy was life, vitality—the very essence of living beings. It fueled everything from everyday tools to the powerful artifacts wielded by elite warriors. It was the energy of growth, strength, and power, drawn from the living and utilized to enhance weapons, defenses, and the world's sweeping technology.
But shadow energy was something else entirely.
Born from decay and death, it was the absolute antithesis of spirit energy. Where spirit energy thrived on life, shadow energy pooled in areas where tragedy and destruction had occurred. Every time a living thing died, its remaining life force would slowly convert into shadow energy. While it naturally coexisted with spirit energy, it was far less common in civilized areas.
Monsters were once normal creatures that had become corrupted by an overflow of this shadow energy. Drawn to places rich in death and decay, the creatures would mutate. Their nuclei cores—once pure spirit energy—would twist and darken, making them stronger, rabid, and far more dangerous. Yet, despite the danger they posed, these corrupted cores were highly prized. When processed by refining guilds, they yielded purified spirit energy or were forged into powerful artifacts, though the process was inherently unstable.
Directly opposite to them were Spirit Beasts. Not all creatures were corrupted. Spirit Beasts lived in perfect harmony with the world's natural energy. Unlike monsters, they weren't twisted or hostile by nature; they thrived in sanctuaries abundant with life. People hunted them, not out of survival, but because their cores were incredibly valuable. Filled with uncontaminated, stable spirit energy, they didn't require the dangerous purification process of monster cores, making them essential for creating high-tier, precise artifacts.
As these mechanics swirled in Soobin's mind, he made his way toward the metro station, glancing down at the holographic map on his wrist-device.
'Damn, I still can't get over how crazy this place is,' he thought.
The metro station itself was a marvel. It was pristine and modern, with polished marble floors and bright digital screens displaying arrival times. Luxury food stalls lined the massive terminal. He looked around, taking it all in. In his old world, metro stations were noisy, overcrowded concrete boxes that smelled of sweat and exhaust fumes. Here, everything was orderly, efficient, and smelled faintly of ozone and clean air.
Soobin checked the time. His train was still a while away. With some time to kill, he decided to take care of something crucial that had been on his mind.
Scanning the area, his eyes landed on a luxurious food stall—though calling it a "stall" felt like an insult. It was more like a high-end restaurant disguised as a pit stop. The exterior was sleek, with polished glass doors and a glowing neon sign that gave it an elegant, futuristic vibe. Hesitating for a second, Soobin walked in, feeling entirely out of place in his casual clothes.
As he stepped inside, the interior took his breath away. Crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, casting a soft, warm light over modern tables neatly arranged with fine silverware. The walls were decorated with holographic displays shifting between calm nature scenes and moving artwork. People sat around, enjoying their meals quietly, the air filled with the gentle hum of low conversation.
A waiter soon approached, dressed sharply in a pressed coat. His movements were precise, his demeanor perfectly professional.
"Good evening, sir," he said, giving Soobin a courteous nod. "What would you like to order?"
Soobin glanced at the digital menu, his eyes scanning the various dishes. Many were far too expensive for his liking. His heart raced a little, feeling the imposter syndrome creeping in, but he managed to keep his composure.
"Uh... can I get some chicken soup to go?" he asked.
The waiter didn't miss a beat. "Of course, sir. I'll have that prepared right away." He bowed slightly before heading off to relay the order.
As Soobin waited, he took a moment to appreciate the sheer scale of the place. Spirit energy must have been powering everything—the ambient music, the subtle glow of the lights, and even the food preparation itself. It was a world beyond what his old life had ever offered, and yet here he was, caught somewhere between feeling like an absolute outsider and desperately wanting to belong.
Before long, the waiter returned with a sleek, high-tech metallic package.
"Here's your order, sir," he said, handing over the soup. The package was warm to the touch. As Soobin held it, he noticed it wasn't just a regular plastic takeout container.
"Does this thing just... stay hot forever?" Soobin muttered, turning the container over in his hands.
"Yes, sir," the waiter explained with a practiced smile. "This packaging utilizes integrated spirit energy to maintain the food at an optimal temperature indefinitely. It's quite efficient for long trips."
Soobin nodded, deeply impressed. This was exactly what he needed. He remembered it being casually mentioned in the novel when the original protagonist bought food to take home.
"Thanks," Soobin said, paying with a tap of his watch before heading out. He carefully placed the hot container into his bag alongside the heavy training sword.
As he descended the escalator to the platform, he marveled at the sight of the train itself. There were no tracks. The sleek, silver carriages hovered just above the ground, their undersides glowing faintly with a steady blue light. The entire massive machine was suspended in the air, defying gravity. It looked twice as sleek as the bullet trains back on Earth.
'Floating trains, huh,' he thought, shaking his head in disbelief. 'This place just keeps showing off.'
He reached for his metro card, but as he approached the ticket gate, a guard in a sharp blue uniform stepped forward.
"Excuse me, young man. Would you mind showing your ticket or watch for verification?"
Soobin blinked. "Uh, yeah, sure," he muttered, lifting his wrist.
The guard scanned it with a small device, nodding as it chimed green. "All good! First time on the metro?"
Soobin hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah... It's a bit different from what I'm used to."
The guard chuckled warmly. "You get used to it. They've been upgrading the system to run entirely on pure spirit energy. Smooth ride, no more loud noises or vibrations. You'll enjoy it."
"Right... Thanks," Soobin replied, offering a small smile as he passed through the gate.
When the train arrived, he stepped inside. The carriages were incredibly spacious, with plush seats and massive panoramic windows. He found a seat by the glass, resting his head against the cool pane as the train silently accelerated.
The cityscape outside was staggering. Pure glass skyscrapers pierced the clouds, hovering billboards projected vibrant advertisements into the sky, and flying cars moved gracefully along invisible traffic currents.
'It's like someone mashed up futuristic sci-fi with old-world fantasy,' Soobin thought, captivated by the blurring lights. 'This is exactly what people in the 1950s imagined the future would look like.' He let out a quiet, genuine laugh.
The train made a few stops, passengers silently boarding and disembarking, until Soobin's stop finally arrived. He stepped off the train, headed up to the street level, and immediately hailed a hovering cab.
The cab driver, an older man with a weathered face, greeted him with a smile. "Where to, kid?"
"Take me to the outskirts. Near the Dreadwood Expanse," Soobin said, recalling the exact location from the novel's early chapters.
The driver raised a gray eyebrow in the rearview mirror but didn't ask questions. "Alright. Buckle up."
As they drove, the towering glass city slowly gave way to a rougher, more overgrown landscape. The buildings shrank, the roads emptied, and soon, Soobin found himself staring at the jagged edge of civilization. The cab glided to a halt in front of a dense, oppressive forest. The trees loomed like silent, twisted sentinels against the dimming sky.
Above the entrance hung a massive, rusted sign:
DREADWOOD EXPANSE — DANGER: HIGH SHADOW ENERGY ZONE. DO NOT ENTER.
Soobin stepped out, paying the driver with a tap of his wrist. The cab immediately sped off, clearly eager to leave the area, leaving Soobin completely alone at the edge of the tree line.
He took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. The air here felt thick, heavy with an unnatural pressure. Even without a spirit core, he could feel the shadow energy physically pressing against his skin. It was deeply unsettling.
'This place… It's definitely where the original protagonist found that ring.'
Without letting himself hesitate, Soobin stepped past the warning signs and into the gloom.
The deeper he walked, the darker and more twisted the surroundings became. The ancient trees had gnarled branches that reached out like skeletal claws. The air was damp, and the thick stench of wet earth and decay filled his lungs. While most forests in this world were beautiful, glowing with spirit orbs and luminescent flora, this place was the exact opposite. It was a graveyard of nature.
Soobin's mind raced, trying to match his surroundings to the descriptions he had read. Somewhere in this rotting woods was the artifact. If he could just find it—
A low, guttural growl echoed through the trees.
Soobin's heart skipped a violent beat. He turned slowly, his hand instinctively dropping to the hilt of his borrowed sword.
Emerging from the shadows was a Shadowfang Wolf. It was massive, its fur dark and matted with grime. Its eyes glowed a sickly, unnatural red, and thick, black veins pulsed visibly across its muscular body—the undeniable mark of shadow corruption.
'Of course… It's exactly like the novel,' he thought grimly.
He knew from memory that these creatures were low-ranking monsters, technically considered "weak" by Awakener standards. But for a sixteen-year-old kid with zero combat experience and no spirit core? It was a lethal threat.
But Soobin had come prepared.
As the wolf began to slowly circle him, baring razor-sharp teeth, Soobin reached into his bag and pulled out the sleek, spirit-tech soup container.
"Grrrrrr..."
The wolf snarled, crouching low, its muscles coiling like a spring before launching itself directly at his throat.
Soobin didn't hesitate. He ripped the lid off and flung the scalding, boiling-hot contents directly into the beast's face.
The wolf yelped in sheer agony, its momentum completely broken as it crashed into the dirt, clawing blindly at its burned eyes. The creatures were highly sensitive to extreme heat—a minor detail he had memorized from the story.
'Now!'
Seizing the opening, Soobin drew the heavy training sword and rushed forward. His form was terrible—the sword was too heavy, and he had no technique—but adrenaline guided his hands. He swung with all his might, burying the steel blade deep into the wolf's side.
The creature howled, a terrifying, echoing sound.
But it wasn't dead. Thrashing wildly, the wolf lashed out with a desperate, dying swipe. Its claws raked violently across Soobin's forearm.
"Ughh!" Soobin stumbled back, hissing as warm blood instantly soaked his sleeve. But he gritted his teeth, gripping the hilt tighter, and swung the sword down again, putting his entire body weight behind it.
THUD.
The blade struck true. The wolf collapsed into the dirt, its massive body twitching once before going entirely still.
Panting heavily, Soobin dropped to his knees beside the carcass. His hands were shaking violently. He felt a wave of intense nausea wash over him. He was a normal college student; he had never killed anything in his life, let alone butchered a monster.
Suppressing the urge to vomit, he used the tip of the sword to carefully cut into the beast's chest. He dug through the gore until he extracted the nuclei core—a small, dark orb pulsing faintly with shadow energy. He wiped it off, tucked it safely into his pocket, and forced himself to stand up. He couldn't stop now.
After navigating deeper into the Expanse for a few more minutes, the dense trees suddenly gave way to a small clearing.
At the center stood an ancient, towering tree, its bark blackened and dead, radiating a palpable aura of shadow energy. Half-hidden by overgrown, thorny roots at the base of the tree was a small stone statue. At first glance, it looked unremarkable—just a weathered, forgotten relic entirely consumed by the forest.
But Soobin's heart leaped into his throat.
'This is it,' he thought. 'The statue from the novel.'
It stood about waist-high, carved into the shape of a robed figure. Near its base was a small, circular opening. It was a detail easily missed by anyone passing by, but Soobin knew it was the lock to the cheat code.
Kneeling in the dirt before the statue, Soobin couldn't help but whisper, "So this is where it all started." He glanced up at the looming, dead tree. "It looks just as eerie as I imagined."
His trembling fingers brushed over the opening in the stone.
"Just a little more," he muttered, the tension evident in his voice. He pulled the corrupted wolf core from his pocket. It felt cold and heavy in his palm. Taking a deep breath, he held the dark orb over the opening.
'Here goes nothing.'
He pushed the core inside.
For a long, agonizing second, nothing happened.
Then, a low, mechanical rumble vibrated through the earth beneath his feet. A heavy thud echoed deep within the clearing, and before Soobin could even flinch, the solid ground beneath him simply vanished.
"Shit!" Soobin yelled, flailing his arms as the earth swallowed him whole.
He tumbled blindly into the darkness, slamming into a steep, rocky chute before hitting the floor with a bone-rattling thump.
He groaned, rolling onto his back and coughing up dust. His entire body ached, and his bleeding arm throbbed violently, but miraculously, nothing felt broken. As he lay there, staring up at the tiny, faint circle of twilight high above him, a breathless, incredulous laugh escaped his lips.
"Well... that was one hell of a trap door."
He slowly sat up, rubbing his bruised shoulder. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, confusion washed over him.
'Wait... a trap door? A hidden cave?' he thought, his brow furrowing. 'This wasn't written in the novel at all.'
The air down here was cool and damp, carrying the faint sound of dripping water. He pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the pain. He was officially off the script, but a strange, thrilling sense of anticipation welled up inside him.
He was exactly where the original protagonist had been—standing at the edge of something extraordinary.