I had acquired another new skill.
This time, it was a sub-skill, an offshoot of my unique ability. As I checked the information, a wave of relief washed over me. It was the power I’d desperately wanted.
The avatar was, for all intents and purposes, a second body. While having two of them had its perks, it also came with significant downsides. The doubled food expenses were a trivial concern. The real problem, the fatal flaw, was that I was forced to accept all of the avatar’s senses and emotions, unfiltered and raw.
I could force the avatar into a dormant state to dull the input, but that was hardly a perfect solution. It only worked in situations with minimal external stimuli. If it suffered a mortal wound, for instance, the intense pain and shock would be impossible to ignore. Of course, the plan was always to swap the avatar into dangerous situations, not myself. I’d clung to that belief when I first decided to send it to the other world in my place.
But a crisis can strike at any time, in any form. A single moment of carelessness could lead to death. An unexpected accident could leave me with a fatal injury, and even if I wasn't the one physically experiencing it, the mental shock would be devastating. I knew my own mind; it was far more fragile than the average person’s. Witnessing a violent death up close, even through a proxy, would break me.
In that context, the skill I had just gained was nothing short of a miracle. It was called Mind Hub, and it allowed me to filter and selectively process all stimuli and emotions channeled through the avatar. Overcoming dimensional nausea was just the beginning; this meant I was now immune to all forms of mental contamination, including the trauma of death. I could go anywhere, do anything, all while controlling the avatar as if I were playing a video game.
All from the comfort of a warm, cozy corner of my room.
[Avatar's potential is increasing. Growth is accelerating.]
A new line of text appeared, suggesting this was far from the end of it. It seemed my avatar’s growth rate had been given an additional boost.
But wait. The avatar’s base condition was meant to be identical to my own. If its growth was accelerating beyond mine… wouldn’t that mean it would eventually become more talented, more superior, than the original?
"Well, the avatar will be handling all the dangerous stuff anyway, so it’s good that it's getting stronger," I murmured. "It's good, but…"
A troubled expression flickered across my face, a subtle conflict brewing within.
Still, the main body is the brain. It's fine. A commander doesn't need to be stronger than his subordinates. With that settled, I turned my attention to my remaining Karma.
[Unique Skill Enhancement (500,000)]
[Available Karma - 900,213]
My once-abundant Karma had been cut by more than half. Given how fast the cost was rising, this next enhancement would likely be my last for a long time. It was a worthwhile trade, but I couldn't help a small, foolish pang of regret at the dwindling number.
After a moment’s thought, I selected ‘Unique Skill Enhancement’ one final time. It was far more efficient than raising individual attributes; there was no reason to hesitate.
[Unique Skill Enhancement (600,000)]
[Available Karma - 400,213]
[Unique Skill has grown, expanding possibilities. All avatars acquire a random skill.]
The final enhancement did not disappoint. Avatar skill awakening. For a being with practically zero combat ability, this was a godsend. Of course, it probably wouldn't be as powerful as the unique skill I received during my own first awakening, but right now, I would welcome even the most trivial new ability.
And that wasn’t the only change.
Suddenly, there were three of me.
We looked at each other in turn. Thanks to the multiple enhancements, my multitasking and mental fortitude had been steadily strengthening. With the new Mind Hub skill supporting me, there was no confusion, no sense of being overwhelmed.
Still, with more avatars potentially on the way, things could get confusing. I needed a way to tell them apart. It all came down to a name.
"I can't just keep calling you Avatar 1 and Avatar 2."
"I've never been good at naming things."
"A name… what kind of name…"
The three of us mulled it over, but three heads sharing the same mind offered little creative advantage. I sighed and shook my head.
"Let's go with 'Vanguard.' It's easy to say. It sounds fine. Yeah."
I pointed to the first avatar I had ever summoned and gave him the name that popped into my head. I had not anticipated what would happen next.
"Huh? What was that…?"
A faint ripple coursed through my mind. There was no pain or discomfort, but I instinctively knew something had changed.
-Common Traits: 'Mind Hub,' 'Rapid Recovery'
-Individual Trait: 'Magic Affinity'
-Special Note: First avatar of Pathfinder.
"…I didn't expect this."
As my 'Avatar' skill grew, Vanguard's information was etched directly into my consciousness. If buying an upgrade with Karma was a leap of one full step, this felt like an organic growth of a tenth of a step. It was a minimal gain compared to the Karma shop, but it felt more natural. This, I realized, was probably how abilities were meant to evolve—in the direction the user willed them. Naming the avatar must have been the trigger.
But the avatar got a status display, and I don't even have one. An external viewer skill was needed to see one’s own information, so my own status remained hidden. This new information panel seemed to be a function of the 'Avatar' skill itself, a way to manage the entities that belonged to me.
I should have given him a cooler name if I knew it would be displayed like this. I’ll have to think harder for the next one. But 'Magic Affinity,' huh. A skill that made it easier to sense and handle magic. It would be helpful for his long-term growth, but it offered no immediate combat prowess. The second avatar’s skill was ‘Sturdiness,’ which only increased the body’s endurance.
It feels like I drew the short straw… Well, can’t be helped. So now, finally…
There was something I had to do. Something I had to confirm for myself.
I stood before the front door, a garbage bag clutched in one hand, taking deep, measured breaths. Until now, even this simple chore had been a monumental struggle. I’d have to wait for the dead of night or the earliest hours of the morning when no one was around, then scurry out with my head down. I would make it back with my legs trembling, on the verge of collapse, and spend the next hour suffering from cold sweats and a pounding heart.
Now, it was time to test 'Mind Hub.' I had reviewed the ability’s description countless times, assuring myself that it would work, but the thought of stepping out in broad daylight still made me profoundly nervous.
"Alright, let's do this."
I took one last breath, gripped the doorknob, and swung the door wide open.
The moment I stepped outside, the reflexive trembling in my limbs began, then slowly subsided. I breathed in the outside air as I walked down the hall and descended the stairs. The overwhelming urge to flee that always clawed at me was absent.
I walked casually under the afternoon sun to the garbage collection point and began sorting the waste. Once finished, I looked around, taking in the scene. Cigarette butts littered the ground, a group of grandmothers chattered on a nearby bench, and the faint laughter of children drifted over from a distant playground. I closed my eyes, and the sharp, unpleasant smell of garbage stung my nostrils.
"Hey, kid, what are you spacing out for? If you're done, move aside so others can throw their trash away."
I ducked my head in embarrassment, then walked slowly back toward my building, my gaze sweeping across the neighborhood. My heart swelled. It was a view I hadn't truly seen in a very long time.
And I was watching it all as if it were a movie, from the safety of my room. The person outside was undoubtedly me. I was the one moving his body, forming his thoughts, speaking his words. But the usual dread was gone. No trembling, no cold sweat. I could even hold a normal conversation. All the debilitating emotions—the fear, the confusion—were being filtered out, leaving no impact on my core consciousness.
The front door opened, and Vanguard walked in, heading to the bathroom to wash his hands. The test was over. 'Mind Hub' had performed even better than I’d hoped. Now, I could do anything.
Now, I can go to the other world.
And as I grew more accustomed to the outside world through my avatars, perhaps one day I could even step out with my real body.
For the next several days, I prepared for the journey. With my safety guaranteed, there was no longer any reason to hesitate. Setting aside my own curiosity about other worlds, the potential for faster growth was too great to ignore. Beyond the time-dilation advantage, the other world offered a natural growth catalyst for the awakened. Combined with my avatar’s accelerated potential, I could become stronger at an incredible rate.
In this tumultuous world, power is everything. I clenched my fists, the memory of ‘that day’ threatening to surface. I would never feel that powerless, that full of despair, ever again.
The preparations made me appreciate the true value of 'Rapid Recovery.' I could push a body to its absolute limit, and a moment's rest was all it took for a perfect recovery. The training was relentless and nonstop. It was a little disappointing that the rigorous conditioning only applied to the specific avatar and not to my main body, but they were separate entities. It couldn’t be helped.
Well, it's just the avatar going to the other world, so it doesn't matter. Plus, it has accelerated growth. And it seems like status enhancements from the Karma store are shared whenever I resummon it.
Unlike my main body, whose training was limited to my apartment, the avatars could go outside and exercise far more efficiently. Thanks to their transcendent recuperative power, I had them work out to the point of collapse in an empty gym, away from prying eyes. Whenever that started to attract attention, I’d send them on long-distance runs to build stamina. The extreme pain of the training was filtered through 'Mind Hub,' reducing the grueling regimen to a mundane, repetitive task. It wasn’t boring, either, since my main body was comfortably browsing the internet back home.
Having two avatars with the same face felt strange, though. So, I focused on training Vanguard, the one designated for the other world, while the other avatar joined me for home workouts and leisure.
"Yes! Stage boss cleared!"
My other self and I celebrated in perfect sync as we defeated a boss in two-player mode. Just then, Vanguard, drenched in sweat from his latest superhuman feat, walked through the front door and headed for the bathroom. Seeing him, I felt a strange pang of guilt.
It's a bit uncomfortable, but it's not like I'm feeling sorry for one of my arms because I'm focused on training the other. They’re all me.
Before Vanguard was even out of the shower, I set the table. It was a trivial problem in the grand scheme of things, but our food costs were skyrocketing. Three bodies, all exercising more than the average person—one of them to the point of self-torture—burned an unimaginable number of calories. The thought of my grocery bill brought a tear to my eye, but I decided to think of it as an investment. If I could bring back useful items from the other world, I could make a fortune.
Selling them discreetly will be a challenge, but I'll figure it out. Besides, the avatar is perfectly optimized for clandestine activities. Of course, I had no intention of harming innocent people for profit. I, of all people, knew what it was like to be a victim. I would act in a way that would bring no shame to my family.
And that was another reason I had to go to the other world. I wasn't particularly strong compared to other returnees. On Earth, there was no obvious way for me to make money beyond simple physical labor.
"Still no information on the Ashen Realm Dimension, huh?"
"Either no one's been there, or no one's come back. It's a shame, either way."
I had fallen into the habit of organizing my thoughts by having conversations with my avatar. It had been a long time since I’d had anyone to talk to. That would gradually improve, I hoped, as I started interacting with people again.
I checked over Vanguard's equipment one last time. He was heavily armored, just like on my first attempt, but this was all newly acquired gear. I couldn't send him into an unpredictable world with the items my parents had given me. They were for a true emergency, precious things I couldn't bear to lose.
"Phew… I think that’s everything."
I really didn't need to check so many times, since I could theoretically return at any moment, but the ritual helped calm my nerves. I knew it was safe, but the thought of stepping into another dimension still sent a tremor of anxiety through me.
"Alright then. Let's do this for real. 'Dimensional Transfer Gate Summon.'"
The portal shimmered into existence before me, the same swirling vortex I’d seen before.
[The transfer to the Ashen Realm Dimension is complete.]
The process was remarkably simple. I summoned the gate, had Vanguard step onto it, and activated the transfer. It was so straightforward that all the tension I’d built up felt completely pointless.
When the transfer was complete, Vanguard opened his eyes to the same forest landscape from before. Or rather, it wasn’t quite the same. The towering trees were familiar, but they were now just dark silhouettes against a black sky. I was alone, stranded in the middle of a forest at night.
With the ten-to-one time difference, this was bound to happen eventually, but it was still frustrating. I had tried to match the time of the initial transfer, but a miscalculation must have occurred. Now I had to start my expedition with a survival scenario in a dark forest. Even in broad daylight, I wouldn't have felt confident.
I hesitated for a moment, then decided to start moving.
"Normally, moving recklessly in a forest at night is a terrible idea, but…"
My initial hesitation gave way to a surge of confidence. My physical abilities were enhanced, and I had 'Rapid Recovery.' But the biggest factor was the complete lack of any sense of crisis. 'Mind Hub' had perfectly nullified the dimensional nausea, and now it was insulating me from fear itself. I found myself treating this risky night hike as an exciting adventure.
Buoyed by this lighthearted feeling, I immersed myself in the romance of exploring another world and glanced up at the night sky.
The first thing I saw was not the stars, but a pair of glowing yellow eyes, staring back at me from the darkness.