I staggered a few steps away from the collapsed commander's body, my breath still caught as if I had just run through a storm. The room trembled faintly—not because of an earthquake, but because something inside me had shifted. There was a light sensation, like tiny cables being reconnected along my spine; a warm current crawled from my dantian to the tips of my fingers, then circled back again, flowing like soft electricity.
Suddenly the bluish screen in my head flickered, brighter than usual. Notifications appeared one by one, calm yet meaningful.
[Congratulations. Your rank has increased.]
My heart pounded not just from surprise—more from the strange feeling that something fundamental within me had just changed.
[Fooder → Fighter]
'Fooder to Fighter? Seriously? From "food" to "fighter" just because I kicked a hobgoblin until it flew?' I thought, half wanting to laugh, half unable to believe it.
But there was no time to joke. Along with that message, something flowed: new energy, dense yet gentle, like a current clearing out old wires. My body trembled softly, my dantian felt more "filled," and my perception seemed slightly wider—not visually, but in the sense of awareness.
[Akashic System: Access expanded. Access grade increased; data availability rises proportionally.]
I had no idea what exactly changed behind the scenes—perhaps the system could now parse more specific information from the Akashic Records for a host of Fighter grade. Maybe there were features previously sealed. What was clear: a sense of "space" opened in my mind. Technical information that had been vague now felt sharper; technique diagrams in my head more structured; training cues came with more precise rhythm.
'Good. More data to read, more techniques to unlock, and—hopefully—fewer resonance traps that turn me into entertainment for the entities,' I muttered, pressing my palm against my stomach to feel the pulse of newly stirred Qi.
The system continued with its cold administrative tone.
[You receive experience and rewards for completing the quest: "Reach Floor 5".]
[Quest Completed – You have successfully reached Floor 5]
[Reward: +2 Universal Item Gacha Tickets]
'Okay. Two more tickets. Could be used for something useful—or, more likely, something strange and dangerous. But that's a problem for later,' I thought, trying to suppress a small smile.
I took a deep breath, feeling my body now slightly more compact, more prepared—like a bag reorganized from the inside; empty spaces suddenly cleared to be filled with new things. This rank-up wasn't just a line of text I could laugh off; it seeped into the way the system treated me. Knowledge access widened a little, feature options popped up faster, and—most importantly—my tolerance for cross-dimensional techniques increased. In other words: I was now slightly safer if I wanted to tinker with dangerous arts, and slightly deadlier when enemies slipped.
'Good. Slightly safer, slightly deadlier. Just the way I like it.'
I looked at the two tickets in my inventory, then tapped the use option without much ceremony. The blue screen shimmered, the gacha animation rolled—the familiar capybara chest spinning, bluish-purple light flickering like cheap fireworks. There was a soft chime, then a plop as the chest's contents revealed themselves.
[Gacha Result…]
They appeared one by one before me, not just as text—but as sensations, descriptions, and subtle auras I could feel at my fingertips.
[Lunar Necklace — Rank B]
A thin metal necklace with a crescent-moon pendant; its surface glimmered faintly as though swallowing light and returning it as whispers. I could feel its gentle coldness when I touched it—a sensation not merely aesthetic. A passive effect lingered in its description: increases night sensitivity and minor reflex, stabilizes Qi fluctuations during dim moonlight. Useful for night operations and maintaining technique stability when the energetic environment is chaotic.
'A necklace? Not a sword? But… not a dumb drop either.' I imagined wearing it while sneaking through a forest—more aware, slightly faster reactions, less chance of getting ambushed.
[Basic Magic Book — Rank C]
A small book with a worn brown cover, its pages yellowed but tightly bound. Its contents weren't murim, nor Heavenly Demon—more like simple magika structures: basic elemental binding principles, small rituals to ignite minor flames, and introductory techniques to focus mental energy into light projections. Rank C—not something that would instantly raise combat prowess, but as a supplementary tool, it offered options: non-physical methods to navigate fights or expand survival capabilities.
'Hm. Basic magic. Could be an interesting combination: murim for the body, magic for tricks.' The idea made a small chuckle tickle my throat. If I could merge some cultivation tactics with simple magical threads, my defensive–offensive combo could become slipperier than before.
The system laid out the details with that laboratory-manual tone that always made me feel like I was reading an instruction sheet instead of an epic manuscript.
[Answering… Lunar Necklace — Passive: +12% Reflex (night), Qi Stability +8%. Does not stack with similar effects.]
[Answering… Basic Magic Book — Contains 12 basic techniques; can be learned gradually. Initial usage does not trigger significant resonance.]
I fastened the Lunar Necklace around my neck with fingers still trembling—its cold pendant seeped into my skin like a gentle warning that something had shifted. The touch of the metal wasn't just an accessory; it synced with my pulse, giving my breath a slight quickness in darkness, smoothing my reactions to faint sounds that previously startled me. After that, I closed the magic book into the system panel—not storing it physically, but letting it dissolve into a stream of information slowly absorbed into my mind. The sensation was like pouring ink into a clear glass: first cold, then swirling until evenly spread.
'Doesn't trigger significant resonance?' I thought, relieved, feeling the leftover tension gradually dissolving. That meant I could experiment without immediately lighting up a spotlight for beings from other dimensions. That meant the first test wouldn't have to be the last. The necklace soothed. The book opened a door—not wide, just a crack—to peek at minor techniques; small tricks that could mean the difference between surviving and dying when I was still alone.
Qi flowed smoother since the Elixir, since training, since the rank-up. There was a new rhythm I hadn't realized before: when I closed my eyes, murim's basic movements met simple magical ritual patterns, and between the two lines appeared a small space for improvisation. Small ideas gathered—a murim strike accelerated by a tiny magic spark, or using the necklace while sneaking to let reflexes act as automatic safeguards. Everything felt… possible. Experiments, not execution.
'This necklace is useful for the night. This book is useful for tricks.' I muttered inwardly. Half joking, half comforting myself, the rest a reminder that I didn't have the luxury of missteps. Yeah, let's just say I'm assembling a toolkit for survival. Or for surviving myself.
It felt strange, calming, and made me want to hurry deeper.
Next: floor ten.
Come on, conquer it.
I want to know what kind of reward is waiting for me up there.