What the hell was this?
I woke up to the irritating buzz of my smartwatch, still strapped to my wrist. I had been too anxious last night to even think about changing out of my cadet uniform, let alone fix the disaster that was my room. Pictures of Kim Chundong—no, Kim Hajin—were scattered across the floor like confetti after a bad party. And don't get me started on the boxes. Both my stuff and Hyon Hyung’s stuff were still piled up against the walls. Yeah, I had forgotten to unpack. Oops.
But honestly? That wasn’t even my biggest problem.
My place was a mess, sure, but my mind? My mind was in full-on chaos mode. I closed my eyes, trying to steady my racing heart, but I couldn’t shake the weirdness that had just unfolded in front of me. Synchronization with Hyon Hyung? What the hell did that even mean?
Intricate lines of text, glowing with an almost ominous energy, filled my vision. They looked like something straight out of a sci-fi movie, or worse, a bad knockoff of Kim Hajin's system interface. This couldn’t be happening. The last thing I needed was to be dragged into some cosmic joke involving weird status screens and cryptic messages. Yet there it was, clear as day:
[Error-error-erro-r, synchronization with Hyon Hyung complete.]
[All Status reset.]
[Unique Authority, none acquired.]
Error? Status reset? Unique authority? What kind of low-budget RPG nonsense was this?
I felt my head throb, like my brain was trying to escape from this madness. I took a few deep breaths, reminding myself that panic never helped anyone. Still, a small, deeply irresponsible part of me couldn’t help but wonder... Did I get 'cheats' too? Was this some sort of blessing in disguise?
I focused back on the floating text, narrowing my eyes with cautious optimism. Then I noticed something—a tiny tab, barely noticeable, like it was waiting for me to click on it.
With a thought, I dismissed the Synchronization Notification. No need to keep staring at that cryptic nonsense. Instead, I focused on summoning what I assumed was my Setting Chart—the very thing that would determine my fate in this bizarre world.
And then, it appeared.
2. Hyon Hyung
Variable Stats
[Strength 2]
[Stamina 2]
[Speed 2]
[Perception 2]
[Vitality 2]
[Magic Power 1]
Invariable Stats
[Intelligence— 4/10]
[Perseverance— 4/10]
[Luck— 4/10]
[Charm— 4/10]
Gift (1/1)
Arts (0/3)
Physique (0/3)
I was speechless. For a brief, shining moment, I had this strong hope in my heart, imagining myself swimming in SP, transcending all limitations, and flipping the proverbial script on this whole situation. But no, no such luck. I took a series of short, controlled breaths to calm my nerves. Stay rational. Stay sane.
There were no SP points to be found. No Setting Intervention. No magical laptop with admin privileges over reality.
I couldn’t do what the MC, Kim Hajin, could. Because, let’s face it, I wasn’t even the Creator of this world.
And then there was this mysterious Gift (1/1). One Gift. Only one. Why? I distinctly remembered the system granting Hajin more than just a single Gift. Was there a discount going on? Maybe I should’ve checked the fine print.
Still, I decided to count my blessings—at least I had something. This little Setting Chart of mine, even with its depressingly low stats, offered a small sense of comfort. I had a Gift, and that was more than I could’ve hoped for a few minutes ago. The Variable Stats weren’t completely abysmal (okay, they were, but still, let’s be optimistic), and the Invariable Stats—well, they were fine, I guess. Acceptable. Better than average, if "average" meant "not entirely useless."
Then my eyes landed on the Gift.
Gift (1/1) [Nobody Knows]
[Low-Intermediate Rank] [Null Attribute] [Evolving— Grade 10] [Exp 0%]
Always Here—
Blend with the background and be unnoticeable.
Not Here—
Become invisible. The more Magic Power, the longer the duration, and stealthier the effects. Instant activation.
The explanations were… well, succinct. To be honest, I was expecting something more elaborate—maybe a grand backstory or some epic description of cosmic-level power. But no, I got a stealth ability. Still, I couldn’t be greedy. After all, I was just a regular mortal before this whole mess, with no knowledge of magic or power beyond basic cadet training.
But now? I had Nobody Knows. A low-intermediate, evolving Gift. I couldn’t help but feel invincible, even if that confidence was, you know, wildly inaccurate. Just thinking about the possibilities sent a grin stretching across my face.
The sheer absurdity of my thoughts wasn’t lost on me. I mean, I wasn’t exactly thinking heroic plans here. The first few ideas that popped into my head? Let’s just say they were either perverted or straight-up criminal. Invisible? Yeah, I could think of a few scenarios where that would come in handy—though probably not ones I should act on if I wanted to avoid jail time.
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
The good news, though, was that my Gift could evolve. It could grow. With some effort, I might even turn it into something truly powerful.
***
Last night had been nothing short of a whirlwind for Kim Hajin. The process of finding the right Gift for himself had been taxing enough, but nothing compared to the exhausting effort of forcing his Luck Stat all the way to [10/10]. He’d had to degrade his prized Gift—[Master Sharpshooter]—to a semi-sealed state, just to scrounge up enough SP to max out his luck.
“This better be worth it…” Hajin muttered as he powered on his laptop, sipping from a cup of freshly brewed coffee. He faintly remembered the events of the previous night—his body giving out from exhaustion as the [Overwriting Process] started running in the background. He still didn’t know what that was supposed to mean.
"Let’s see what I’ve got."
The familiar interface lit up, and Hajin reviewed his stats.
2. Kim Hajin
[Current SP: 0]
Variable Stats
[Strength 2.4]
[Stamina 2.6]
[Speed 3]
[Perception 4]
[Vitality 2.6]
[Magic Power 2]
Invariable Stats
[Intelligence— 4.1/10]
[Perseverance— 7/10]
[Luck— 10/10]
[Charm— 4.1/10]
Gift (2/3)
Arts (0/3)
Physique (0/3)
Kim Hajin grinned from ear to ear. Thanks to his newly maxed-out [10/10] Luck Stat, his otherwise lackluster Variable Stats had shot up dramatically. As if on cue, a notification had popped up on his screen earlier: [An incredible luck applies!]
His hard work from last night had paid off, big time.
The insanity of it all hadn’t escaped him. The debate had been fierce—should he settle for [9.1/10] Luck and keep his Gift intact, or go all-in? In the end, a coin toss had sealed his fate. He’d maxed out his luck and passed out right after, utterly spent.
Now fully awake, eager to test his upgraded [Master Sharpshooter], Hajin scarfed down the rest of his breakfast. The shooting range was calling his name, and he didn’t want to waste any time. With a quick glance at his smartwatch, he calculated that he still had time for a solid practice session before class.
He quickened his pace, his mind already buzzing with excitement about testing his new abilities.
Suddenly, a notification pinged on his smartwatch: [An incredible luck applies!]
Distracted by the message, Hajin rounded a corner and collided with someone at full speed. The momentum knocked him off balance, and before he could react, he stumbled forward, his hands outstretched.
A soft, buoyant sensation met his face as he fell. Confusion swirled in his mind. "It’s... squishy?"
In that moment of impact, Hajin found himself lying flat on the ground, unable to see anything, his hand still resting on something—or rather, someone. As the realization sank in, a wave of dread began to rise.
“Motherfu—” intoned the other person, muffling her voice at the last second.
As Kim Hajin lay there, face pressed against something soft and unmistakably squishy, his brain short-circuited for a second. He caught the faint whiff of a sweet fragrance in the air, but he couldn’t quite process what was happening just yet. Then, the person in front of him stirred, lifting herself up on all fours.
Hajin’s eyes widened in slow-motion horror as the familiar figure of Chae Nayun came into view. Her face was flushed a deep shade of red, and her lips were slightly parted, likely in shock. She stared down at him, her expression a mixture of confusion, embarrassment, and something resembling mild disbelief.
The sweet smell he’d caught earlier? That was her.
It was the damn heroine of his own novel.
For a moment, neither of them moved, as if the universe had pressed pause on the awkwardness. But then, reality hit Hajin like a freight train.
His hand was still resting on—oh no.
His face flushed instantly, a wave of heat rushing to his cheeks and ears. Unbeknownst to him, he was matching Chae Nayun’s deep red complexion, turning the whole situation into a crimson-tinged disaster.
"Uh…" He tried to speak but the words were stuck somewhere in the back of his throat. Panicking, he attempted to push her away with his right hand—except his strength was pitifully lacking. Instead of creating space, all it did was… well, squish her chest even more.
Oh no no no no.
He could practically feel the collective judgment of every fictional character ever, weighing down on him. This wasn’t happening.
Desperate to salvage what little dignity he had left, Hajin tried to push harder, using both hands this time. But again, his feeble strength only made things worse. What was meant to be a proper push looked more like—oh god, why did this look like he was groping her?
Chae Nayun didn't budge as her face grew redder if that was even possible. Her eyes widened, her mouth opened as if to say something, but no words came out—just a silent scream of embarrassment.
Hajin, for his part, could feel his own face practically burning off from the sheer intensity of his mortification. Both of them were now sporting the same deep shade of crimson, like two tomatoes thrown into the world’s most awkward and horribly timed spectacle.
The whole scene was a bloody spectacle in the truest sense of the word—just without the actual blood. All the redness? Yeah, that was embarrassment working overtime. Hajin’s mind raced for a way out of this mess, but it was too late. Whatever shred of dignity he thought he had left was long gone.
Kim Hajin’s nerves were practically shot as he stared up at Chae Nayun, who still hadn’t said a single word. The silence between them stretched on, and with each passing second, his anxiety skyrocketed. His mind scrambled for something to say, anything to break the tension, but all that came out was:
“Why are you not saying anything?” The words tumbled out, his voice cracking just a little.
Oh no. Hajin winced internally. That wasn’t supposed to be voiced aloud. His thoughts were supposed to stay thoughts, not become awkward, verbal disasters. Panic set in as more words spilled from his mouth without permission.
“I’m a grown man!” he yelped, his voice rising higher than he’d intended. He immediately cringed, his embarrassment hitting new heights. What did that even mean? Why did he say that? And why the hell was he sweating so much?
“Fuck!” he blurted again, feeling the heat creeping up his back and threatening to drench his entire body in sweat. He needed to stop. Just stop talking!
“It’s a monologue, I’m sorry!” he apologized quickly, desperately hoping to undo the damage, though it was far too late for that. It was bad enough that his face was still beet-red, but now he was verbally imploding in front of Chae Nayun, who still hadn’t said a word.
“I’m a grown man…” Hajin repeated to himself in a whisper, but it wasn’t doing much to calm him down. A grown man shouldn’t be acting like this! He was practically melting from shame, his mind a tangled mess of panic and over-analysis. What the hell is wrong with me!?
Unable to bear the embarrassment any longer, Hajin scrambled backward on all fours, clumsily pushing himself up to his feet. He stood for a split second, his mind blank, before he bolted—ran, actually—away from Chae Nayun as fast as his legs could carry him. His destination? The shooting range. His safe haven. Somewhere, anywhere far from this catastrophe.
His heart pounded in his chest as he fled, but worse than that, he still felt the phantom sensation in his hands, lingering like a ghost of his humiliation.
It… felt good.
Hajin cursed under his breath as he sprinted, his face somehow growing even redder at the thought.