Darkness pressed in from all sides.
Seo-joon's consciousness drifted in and out, like he was sinking beneath deep water. His body felt heavy—too heavy—like it didn't belong to him.
Cold seeped into his bones.
Then—
A faint sensation.
Something hard beneath his fingers.
"…Mm…"
A weak groan escaped his lips as his eyes slowly opened.
Pitch black.
For a moment, panic gripped him.
Am I dead…?
No.
The smell hit him again—damp earth, stale air.
The cave.
"…Right…"
Memories rushed back in fragments.
The accident.The slums.Joseon.
"…I didn't die…"
His voice was barely a whisper.
But he wasn't relieved.
If anything, it made things worse.
Because now—
He still had to survive.
His stomach twisted violently, pulling a pained groan from his throat.
"Haa… damn…"
Hunger burned through him, sharper than before. His body was screaming for food, for anything.
If he stayed here, he'd die.
If he went back out… he might still die.
"…Great options."
He let out a weak laugh that quickly turned into a cough.
Dust filled his lungs.
He forced himself to move.
His fingers dug into the dirt as he dragged his body forward inch by inch.
Every movement felt like torture.
But he kept going.
Because stopping meant death.
Tap.
His hand brushed against something.
Cold.
Solid.
"…?"
Seo-joon froze.
That wasn't dirt.
Slowly, he shifted his hand, feeling around in the darkness.
Smooth surface.
Curved.
Like…
"…A bowl?"
No.
Too big.
His brows furrowed as he pushed himself up slightly, squinting into the darkness. There was barely any light, but enough to make out a faint silhouette.
A shape half-buried in the ground.
Round.
Wide.
A container.
"…What is this doing here…?"
His voice echoed faintly against the cave walls.
For a moment, he hesitated.
In his old world, this would've meant nothing.
Just junk.
But here… in a hidden cave?
It felt… off.
Like it didn't belong.
"…Tch."
He didn't have the luxury to overthink.
Food. Water. Survival.
If it was useless, he'd leave it.
If it wasn't—
Then maybe… just maybe…
He wiped his hand against his clothes and reached down, digging into the dirt around it.
The soil was loose, like it had been disturbed before.
"…Someone buried this?"
The thought sent a strange chill down his spine.
Who would hide something like this?
And why here?
His fingers moved faster despite his weak body, scraping away dirt, revealing more of the object.
A pot.
Old.
Dark.
Its surface was smooth, almost unnaturally so, with faint markings etched into it—patterns he couldn't quite make out.
"…Weird…"
It didn't look like something from this time.
Not entirely.
"…Come on…"
With one last push, he pulled it free from the dirt.
The pot came loose with a dull thud.
He almost lost his balance from the sudden shift, barely catching himself.
"…Got it…"
He sat there, breathing heavily, staring down at it.
Up close, it felt… strange.
Not warm. Not cold.
Just… there.
Like it existed outside of everything else.
"…And what am I supposed to do with this?"
His stomach growled again, louder this time.
Seo-joon clenched his jaw.
"Yeah… yeah, I get it."
Food.
That was all that mattered.
He looked around blindly, his hand brushing against the ground.
Dirt. Small stones.
Nothing useful.
Then—
His fingers stopped.
Something small.
Rough.
He picked it up and brought it closer.
A piece of dry root.
Probably something edible… if he wasn't picky.
"…Jackpot."
He let out a weak, sarcastic laugh.
This was what his life had come to.
Fighting over scraps.
Without thinking much, he tossed the root into the pot.
Thunk.
The sound echoed softly.
He stared at it for a second.
Nothing happened.
"…Of course nothing happens."
He sighed, leaning back slightly.
"Why would anything good happen to me anyway…"
His head tilted back as exhaustion crept in again.
Maybe he should just—
Clink.
Seo-joon's eyes snapped open.
"…?"
That sound—
It came from the pot.
He froze, every muscle tensing.
"…No way…"
Slowly, he leaned forward, his breathing shallow.
"…Did something just—"
He reached into the pot.
His fingers touched something.
Not one.
Two.
His body went completely still.
"…Wait…"
He pulled his hand out.
In his palm—
Two identical dry roots.
Silence filled the cave.
Seo-joon stared at them.
Then at the pot.
Then back at the roots.
"…What?"
His voice cracked.
"No… no, that's—"
His heart started pounding violently.
"…That's not possible."
He looked back into the pot.
Empty.
Completely empty.
"…I only put one in…"
His mind raced, trying to find a logical explanation.
A trick. A mistake. A hallucination.
But—
His grip tightened around the two roots.
They were real.
Solid.
Identical.
"…Do it again."
His voice was low. Controlled.
But his hands were shaking.
He took one of the roots and dropped it back into the pot.
Thunk.
He leaned closer, eyes locked onto it.
Seconds passed.
Nothing.
"…Was it just—"
Clink.
His breath hitched.
Slowly… slowly…
He reached inside again.
And pulled out—
Two.
Again.
"…No way…"
His entire body trembled.
"This… this thing…"
His eyes widened as realization hit him like a wave.
Duplication.
It duplicated the object.
Anything he put inside—
It became two.
"…Except…"
His mind sharpened instantly.
"…There has to be a limit."
His breathing quickened, but this time—it wasn't from fear.
It was excitement.
For the first time since waking up in this world—
He saw something else.
Not despair.
Not survival.
But…
Opportunity.
"…Hah…"
A laugh escaped him.
Then another.
Soon, he was laughing—quiet at first, then louder, echoing through the cave.
Not the laugh of a broken man.
But the laugh of someone who had just been handed the impossible.
"…Leverage…"
The word slipped out slowly.
That's what he never had before.
Not knowledge.
Not skill.
But leverage.
He looked down at the pot again, eyes burning with something new.
Something dangerous.
"…With this…"
His voice dropped.
"I can win."
Outside, the wind howled softly.
The world of Joseon remained unchanged.
Cruel. Unforgiving.
But inside the cave—
Everything had just shifted.
Seo-joon tightened his grip on the duplicated roots.
His hunger was still there.
His body was still weak.
But his eyes—
Were no longer empty.
"…Let's test it."